#Selling Assets Before Finalization
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#Understanding Filing Status#Marital Status and Tax Implications#Joint vs. Separate Filing#Selling Assets Before Finalization#Capital Gains Tax Strategies#Child Tax Credits and Deductions
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You want it?
It's yours my friend!
https://moctor.gumroad.com/l/smugjug
FINALLY
I did NOT mean for this to take so long! - I've had an incredibly busy year. Apparently pursuing a new career makes whole chunks of time just vanish >_>
Admittedly there's also the fact that I'm a forgetful perfectionist who feels immense shame when anyone sees my DISGUSTING topology, and my plans to make a full remesh/cleanup were constantly delayed... by shiny new fun ideas that don't require hours of tedious retopo and weight painting
But now I've kinda just accepted the fact that people aren't really gonna care about non-symmetrical geo or barely noticeable clipping... right?
And also you'll need to accept the fact that if you wanna use this for anything more complex than a discord sticker (or 3d print) it's gonna take a bit of work, but I know you'll do a great job because you're so epic!!1
I'd previously mentioned my worries about asset scrapers/resellers/AI trainers, and I was thinking of selling it for a couple quid as a deterrent, but that didn't feel right to me since I'd used someone else's sculpt as a reference. So I just decided to say fuck it and just share it in its current state before I get distracted or forget.
!! Absolutely no reselling or commercial use whatsoever okay? !!
(if you wanna put the model in your game or use it in a video or something like that it's probably fine, feel free to get in touch if you have any questions)
Oh yeah and thanks for all the lovely messages! And thanks for being patient :]
also PLEASE tag me if you make anything stoopid I really gotta see
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Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader
tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping
synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more
author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)
𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮
Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.
You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.
You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.
For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.
But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.
Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.
Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.
Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.
He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.
When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.
He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.
Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.
The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.
He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.
"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.
You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.
You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.
Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.
Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?
Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.
You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.
But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.
Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.
He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."
#hybrid reader#yandere miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara#yandere mafia#mafia fanfic#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara fanfiction#yandere#yandere miguel x reader
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Monster!141 with a fox!reader that thinks she's so smart and strong before meeting 141 of course!! All she wanted was to hunt in new land but now she's been captured by some monsters:(((
Awwww! She is such a smart cookie, she knows how to use all of her assets - from her pretty appearance to her enhanced athletics and ability to squeeze into the tightest spots so she could steal precious supplies from some group of dumb, burly hybrids who think they can pick on someone smaller...fox hybrids are in better position than the most - they are not used as a breeding stock, at least, being predators that are known for their cunning strategies and ability to steal everything both from each other and other hybrids. This is exactly what doomed you in the end. You see, when you're dealing with dumb, burly male monster hybrids and constantly steal their supplies - mostly food, but also clothes and some weapons to sell - they get to track your scent better and better each time, especially when you deal with other canine hybrids...and Soap would be the one to catch you first. It's either him or Ghost - and trust me, you don't want the undead guy to be the one to catch you. At least Soap would be so excited that he finally catches pretty little thief, that you could kinda convince him to go easy on you - that you could pretend to be sorry for stealing from them, and he'd just fuck you, a fat knot in your pussy and you squirm and try to convince him not to breed you. He would drag you to the base after this, of course - or share you with his lieutenant immediately, forcing the shadow tendrils to squeeze your warm body, playing with it no matter how much you resist. You hate them both so much, especially since Ghost is so insisting on calling you a dumb girl who is getting her holes pounded because a stupid fox thought she could deal with the real hybrids... Price would drag you over his knee and make you yelp and cry as he spanks you for each item you stole from them. No matter how much you scratch and yell, no matter how you try to scramble off him, he would not let you go - poor, pathetic, dumb girl, you really thought they will let you to in peace? He will have Kyle stroke your clit and pinch your tits in the middle of spanking session, making this dumb fox hybrid so confused and teary from them...you will yell at him, of course, you have a wile mouth that you use to curse them - but in the end of the day, you're the one who is getting her butt spanked and her holes used by four hybrids who you thought to be too stupid to notice your antics anyway. Well...who is laughing now, right?
#cod#cod x reader#yandere cod#tw: monster fucking#monster!gaz#monster!ghost#monster!soap#monster!price#price x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#yandere ghost#yandere price#yandere gaz#yandere soap#soap#soap mw2#price cod#john price#ghost#simon ghost riley#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick
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Hi Chea!!! First of all, I read some of ur fics, and I absolutely loved it. You did such a great job :D
Second, I wanna make a fic request because why not lol. It's my first time doing this, so I'm a lil nervous ishdudjudos
Can I pls get a fic where reader gets ill (like probably a cold or whatever) because of them constantly entering bodies of water and by the time they reach Sebastian, they're wet and miserable as hell so Sebastian just decides to keep them in his shop to rest and recover lmao
(Sorry if this ask is a mouth full aishdidhhd)
Tags: GN!Reader, Can be read as Established Relationship, Reader has a cold probably, comfort, slight fluff.
Words: 1,1k
Authors Note: Sorry for the wait! ÓwÒ It took me a while to gather my creative brain cells. I actually edited this story twice, so if there are any weird words or logic mistakes then I overlooked something!
It had started as a small, nagging tickle in your throat—a little cough here, a sniffle there. Nothing serious, you told yourself. But days passed, and that tickle had grown into something worse. Yet, despite it, you kept going, pushing through the feverish haze that had begun to creep in. After all, the job wasn’t going to finish itself. Each day, you found yourself wading through rooms, water, and debris, trudging through wet halls to retrieve all assets and the crystal that were needed, drenched to the bone in cold, murky water.
You told yourself that once you were done, you’d rest. But for now, you have to keep moving. And so you did. Rest means death and death isn't something you aimed at for now. So it either meant pushing through or giving up.
By the time you reached Sebastian’s shop, the combination of the relentless water and your refusal to take care of yourself had finally caught up with you. The cold had settled deep into your bones, and your wet diving suit clung to your skin, sticking uncomfortably as you stumbled inside his little store. The warmth of the room hit you like a wave, making your head swim, and you stopped just inside the door, breathing heavily.
Sebastian, stood in front of a table and sorted through papers, glanced up the moment you entered. His usual sarcastic smile froze as his gaze took in your appearance.
You looked a mess—soaked, shivering, and pale, with dark circles under your eyes and a slight flush on your cheeks from the fever you were clearly running. Water dripped from your hair, forming a small puddle on the floor beneath you. For a moment, he just stared at you, incredulous.
“Are you serious?” Sebastian’s voice broke the silence, his usual dry tone tinged with something close to concern. “You look like death warmed up in a microwave. I don't sell coffins here yet.
You tried to muster a reply, maybe something sarcastic, but all that came out was a hoarse cough. The effort left you feeling even more drained than before. Sebastian’s expression softened as he sighed, slithering over to you with a quick glance at the water-soaked floor.
“Come on,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You're staying here. There’s no way I’m letting you go back out like this.”
You didn’t have the energy to argue—not that you would, honestly. The idea of staying in Sebastian’s warm, quiet shop was far more appealing than going back out into the cold, miserable hallways. You let him guide you through the cluttered aisles, past shelves filled with oddities and relics, to a back room that you had only seen in passing.
It was cozy, with a pile of blankets by the barely functioning heater and a couple of scattered books on a nearby table. Sebastian, ever practical despite his tendency to tease, pointed to the pile of blankets. “Sit. Don’t move.”
You collapsed into the pile, grateful for the soft fabrics that seemed to envelop you. The warmth of the heater seeped into your cold, aching limbs, and you closed your eyes for a moment, just trying to shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones.
Sebastian disappeared for a moment, only to return with a towel, some dry clothes, and a steaming cup of whatever liquid he had in the cup. He tossed the towel onto your lap and then held out the cup, raising an eyebrow when you blinked up at him, surprised.
“I’m not going to sit here and watch you shiver to death,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. “Drink up, and then get changed. I’ll turn around if you’re shy.”
You snorted at that, though it turned into another cough. “I think I’m too tired to care.”
Still, his comment brought a bit of warmth to your chest. Sebastian wasn’t always the most outwardly affectionate person, but he had his moments. You took the cup from his hands, wrapping your fingers around it and letting the heat sink into your cold palms.
The tea-like liquid was soothing as it slid down your throat, easing some of the tightness that had built up. Meanwhile, Sebastian busied himself by pulling a blanket from a nearby chest and draping it over your shoulders, creating a little nest of warmth around you.
“Why didn’t you say something?” he asked quietly as he settled onto the edge of a nearby table, watching you closely. “You’re not exactly subtle when you're sick.”
“I thought I could handle it,” you mumbled, tugging the blanket closer. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
Sebastian gave you a look that clearly said, *Are you kidding me?*
“You’re soaked and half-dead, and you thought that wasn’t worth mentioning?” he asked, crossing his arms. “I think that qualifies as a situation where bothering me is okay.”
You sighed, leaning back into the blankets. The heater running softly in the background, the sound oddly comforting as the warmth of the tea and the room finally started to loosen the tightness in your chest.
“Sorry,” you muttered. “I’m just… tired.”
“I’d imagine so,” Sebastian replied, his voice softer now, less teasing. “But next time, just tell me. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
You met his eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and exhaustion wash over you. “Thanks.”
He nodded, brushing it off with a wave of his hand, though you could tell he was relieved that you were finally letting him help. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me. Just rest, alright?”
You smiled faintly, shifting in the pile to get more comfortable. The heater, the warmth, the steady presence of Sebastian nearby—it all worked to lull you into a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in days.
As you started to drift off, you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” Sebastian murmured. “Just sleep.”
For once, you didn’t fight it. You let yourself relax, your body finally giving in to the exhaustion that had been gnawing at you for so long. And as you fell into a much-needed sleep, you knew you were safe. You were warm, you were cared for—and for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel so alone.
When you woke up later, the room was dim, and the heater had cooled down a bit. Sebastian was still there, sitting in a nearby corner, flipping through a file. He glanced up when he noticed you stirring.
“Feeling better?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was an underlying note of concern.
You nodded, your throat still a little sore, but the rest of you felt… better. Lighter, maybe. “Yeah. A bit.”
“Good.” He closed the book and stood up, stretching. “You’re staying here until you’re completely better. I’m not letting you back out there until I’m sure you won’t collapse in a puddle somewhere.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had felt oddly comforting. “Deal.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you truly meant it.
#sebastian solace#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace x you#roblox pressure#sebastian solace fanfic#pressure#pressure x reader
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‘Trick Show’
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x female soldier reader
Little description of reader- She was part of the team ‘Ghosts’. She goes by ‘Red’.
Red has been recruited into the 141 Task Force after they needed her special tactics to catch a certain asset.
Summary; Ghost knew about the Team ‘Ghosts’ but what he didn’t know was that there was a woman in it. He thought only men like him could be Ghosts, so to test your loyalty and worth of being known as one of them- he put you through a test.
Warnings: smut 18! NSFW! Kidnapping, strapping down, oral (m receiving) rough Simon, some degrading and praise. Freakin’ 4k!!
“Boys, Laswell has brought in a temporary recruit. A Lieutenant they are, they go by Red, and are part of the lethal group we know as ‘Ghosts’.”
The ears of the 141 Task Force perked up at Captain Price’s news of them being in the presence of their idols. They admired these people- no, killing machines that wore a heart just like them, but were the coldest, deadliest beings on earth, it was a surprise that they hadn’t become the Grim Reaper if not Death themselves after so much blood shed with no consequences for it.
The one that was the most ecstatic about meeting such Gods to him, was none other than the one named ‘Ghost’.
Simon Riley would probably be qualified to be part of the Ghosts’ Team, but he was satisfied with being the best in his team, no one better than him.
Physically he didn’t show he was excited or anxious to finally see them, he wasn’t one to expose his emotions, and what helped was that mask he wore 24/7 to conceal what he felt.
So with his bulky arms crossed and his brown orbs holding a deadly glare, he questioned,
“Which Ghost is it? One of the Walker’s?”
His thick British accent hid the amusement he held, he sounded rather unimpressed or unbothered instead. Price looked up from his file as he pointed to the door with a steady tone,
“One’s here, Logan Walker- but to leave behind the one that’s actually staying. What Elias noted about Red is exactly what we need, someone stealthy, sultry and deadly…”
Ghost ignored what was spoken about Red, as he eye twitched at the mention of a Walker in the same atmosphere as him, oddly enough he was a secret admirer of the Walker brothers, and couldn’t wait to be around one of them. Maybe not talk- Simon knew deep down he wasn’t much of a talker anyways, but it’d mean the world to him to be able to see a Ghost in the flesh.
“So when will they arrive?”
Soap’s Scottish accent broke through the thin silence, but also the sound of the door creaking open, and two soldiers rustling in.
“-cut it out Logan- oh! Lieutenant Red, Captain Price. Apologies.”
Red had almost tumbled in at Logan playfully shoving her, but Price kept a steady hand in front of her as if to catch her, as he replied with a calm smile, eyeing Logan.
“No apologies Red, I saw him.”
Red then poked Logan’s chest with a tease,
“See? Now everyone’s knows your a bully-“
“That I’m ‘your’ bully- Logan Waker, Captain Price.”
He then with a proud smile shook Price’s hand in front of Red, further teasing as he was practically on top of her. Now with an elbow on her shoulder he informed Price,
“She’s yours now, do as you please. I’ll take my pack of- oof!”
Red scoffed as her elbow met his side,
“You’re not selling or trading me Logan- I’m sorry Price he’s food and sleep deprived at the moment.”
Price nodded it off as he then pulled Red away from Logan,
“It’s alright Red, c’mere kid.. let’s introduce you to my team, the 141.”
Simon never clearly heard what Price said of you, for he was angry- if not furious, livid. He had never heard of you, a woman, being a lethal Ghost, in the position of a man. It made him feel diminutive, and he hated that.
What about you was so good or special, that you had made it in, and wore the title- the damned mask? He didn’t know.. but he as hell was sure he was going to. Simon would find it out himself before anything happened, before you took place in your mission.
——————
“Wakey wakey… Red.”
Your eyes shot opened at your code name being muttered out, and you immediately jerked forward, only to be pulled back by the chains that were bound around you, giving you no space to move.
Only in your t-shirt and small shorts. Arms, wrists, legs- even ankles… were chained on you to the metal chair you sat on. You were quite incredulous as you gasped out,
“Where am I?!”
A deep growl escaped your throat as you tried to pull on the chains, but no avail was on your side unfortunately, you were tied up as if you were a monster. In confusion you took a split second to think-
‘How’d I get here?’
As everything around you didn’t look familiar- and you couldn’t recall getting kidnapped or taken away at all. Although it wouldn’t be your first time kidnapped, but c’mon.. this time you didn’t remember shit.
Last thing you ever remember doing, was drinking a warm tea offered to you by one of the team members before going to sleep.
A low tsk’ was heard, echoing off the corners of the metals walls, and soon footsteps followed, sounding slow and coming one after another like rain, although it sounded like the thunder but from a far distance. Soon a large shadow came into sight, tall in stature and muscular built, you had yet to see his face, but his presence alone made you gulp.
Nonetheless to hold a strong appearance or impression, you demanded,
“Who are you!?”
A gruff voice followed, one you thought you’ve never heard of, making your skin crawl and heart jump,
“Reaper... call me-“
Then his face came into your full view,
“Reaper... Red.”
Your jaw dropped in question.
‘Who the hell is this?’
His face was unlike one you’ve ever seen, beautifully terrifying. His eyes held a snakes gaze but were doe-like, the small light illuminating above him shadowed what appears to be brown eyes.
His nose was probably sculpted very nicely before it got broken, for now it holds a little twist, either way it fit him oddly well.
His lips, chapped and busted in the middle- looked endearing and kissable. The top lip was a bit small, but the bottom one? Carried out how plumpy his lips looked.
Although over all... it was scarred. An old one laid from the top of his eyebrow to the cheek, and the other went from under the nose to his bottom lip. Little ones were also here and there, like minor scratches- but it was sure that they came from big nightmares.
You’ve never heard or seen this man before, as far as you knew about (for you’ve seen countless of people in your lifetime as a Ghost- you pretty much see everything)
But this one, ‘Reaper’... you’ve never seen such before. Heaven and Hell at once. Light and Darkness. The mystery behind who he could be, triggered you to take all of him, so you could learn every bit of his story and take it.
Before you could ask any other question or further analyze Reaper, his voice came out like a command,
“Give me the intel and names of the Ghost Team, if not I won’t make your death easy.”
‘What?!’
That’s what this evil Reaper wanted? The names and info of the greatest team out there- to what? Kill them. That’s all everyone wanted to do to you guys, because you were good, and scary.
The chances of getting out of this situation alive was probably doubtful, as you were not with your team at the moment, and who knows if the 141 knows your missing! You have a mission to carry out soon for them- yet here you are... in chains at the mercy of this beast of a man.
But you were smart right? The best of the best in your team... you could get your way anyways. You looked up to him as if this was a joke, or showing he didn’t scare you, so you proposed,
“Can I cut you a deal?”
Reaper scoffed lightly as he crossed his arms, thinking for a moment,
‘A deal? You’ve got to be out of your mind..’
He grunted,
“What deal?”
You looked down and around for a bit, before blurting out,
“You’re killing me right?”
Appearing terrifying Reaper specified,
“You’ll be dismembered by the time I’m through with you… God wouldn’t recognize you.”
Biting your lip nervously at how you vividly imagined it, you sighed with distress as you spoke,
“If you’re killing me anyways.. might as well make it count for me- I’ve done too much to be left without a last wish completed. It’d bruise my ego.”
A huff left Reaper’s lips, it dripped out like disbelief as he heard your pride while at the supposed brink of death,
“Oh yeah? Then what’s the wish? Both of us must gain from it before I tear you apart-“
“Fuck me, I give you answers, then you kill me.”
Shock was written all over Reaper’s expression, he never would’ve seen that coming, although your wish was very engrossing to him anyways. Though to keep himself in check to make sure you weren’t being crazy or what not, he straightened his broad shoulders and pried,
“You fucking with me?”
You smirked a bit and almost groaned out,
“It’s that or nothing- you’d kill me for your pride and that’s it… no answers or clues if you-“
Then with gritted teeth to show your desperation or seriousness, along with nodded eyes on him, you added,
“Don’t. Fuck. Me.”
He internally scolded himself when his cock twitched at your words. Blood heading straight towards his cock as you then tilted your head back, licking your lips as you went on,
“Come on… grant me my wish. I’d love to fuck that cock of yours. Taste it, ride it, be railed like an animal with it…”
Slowly you began to move your hips on the chair, being a damned menace as your eyes rolled back. Your breath hitched a bit when you happened to hit a certain spot, and you moaned out,
“Pleasssse… I’ll give it to you Reaper. Fuck me to the point I’m dying, and on my last breaths I’ll give it to you.”
Sex rolled off your tongue, and it dripped like honey and sounded sweet, although the words in between were bitter and sinful. The throbbing in Reaper’s tactical pants were beginning to take over his mind piece by piece, his cock jumping every time you spoke, his breath catching in his throat when you made the smallest yet most wicked sounds.
What was the craziest part about this, was that he was supposed to unfold the truth about his trick before it got serious, or before you released the truth. But with those promises dripping out of your moaning lips, he had to take what he could get out of it as it was part of the deal till the end, so… he was definitely going to go on with it.
But he wanted to tease you a bit more first…
The turmoil he caused you as he made you think he was killing you in the end, excited him on a whole other level. Tears streaming down your eyes, pouty red lips, you spilling your darkest desires, surrendering everything to him because he had the upper hand, it had him palming his painfully hardened dick through his pants, it was naughty all right- but damn it was tempting.
He let a low growl release from his throat as he heard another low whine escape your lips, and the pathetic cries while you clenched your thighs together,
“Reaper…. Please, just do this for me… and I’ll give you everything.”
You had your head tilted back the entire time, giving Reaper the whole view of your neck, the perfect canvas so he could mark you up and paint his teeth on you.
“Reaperrr- wha the deal-“
The last working cell in his brain spoke out, trying to hold him down and back as if he was a rabid dog,
“Shut up! Fucking hellll.”
Reaper lowered his gaze to the ground, not wanting to be spurred on more by your hips grinding onto the chair, although he still subtly rubbed his hardened length.
Simon thought he’d might make it through it- his little façade of being Reaper, and might just let you go instead and humiliate you for your naughtiness and unfaithfulness to the Ghosts. But you were sultry one, mumbling out loud enough for his ears to hear,
“Make. Me.”
Reaper came back and practically gulped at your daring words, and that’s when the thread of his patience and tolerance- snapped.
Head tilted back not by your choice anymore, but by the force of his large hand squeezing your throat and holding it in that position.
“Want me to shut you the fuck up?”
You were able to pull up one side of your lip, putting up a smirk as the words came out,
“Did I stutter... Reaper?”
“Fuck it-“
The zipper of his pants went down and in seconds his leaking tip came into your view as he had lowered your head by gripping your hair.
“See this? This is what your naughtiness does.”
Sucking your bottom lip then releasing it you questioned,
“What does it taste like?”
Reaper only smirked and muttered,
“Taste the fruit of your affliction, Red.”
No more smiles or words came you of your dirty mount, as it was stuffed to the brim by his fat cock.. shutting you up. He gave you no time to think or breathe as he fucked your mouth roughly, his hips hitting against your lips as he didn’t relent for one second.
“Fuck- suck on this fat- c-cock! Maybe that’ll shut you u-up! Oh Fuc-“
Groaning out in ecstasy as he held a full hand of your hair, guiding you back and forth, making sure your tongue got every bit of him, your nose touched his pelvis, and his cock touched the back of your sore throat.
“Such a good mouth you fucking slut- ohh fuck!!”
He’s had blowjobs before- but this? Ohh he could’ve sworn he was in heaven at how pleasurable it was. The way your tongue grazed over him and how you applied the right pressure, it got him on every nerve- the right way. To the point his eyes were rolling back and he was panting in desperation, his peak skyrocketing to incoming release.
“Fuck it I’m s-so close!! Ah!!”
But now as he loved the way you felt, he didn’t want to cum in your mouth anymore.. he wanted to cum on all of you.
“Fuck you-“
He left you gasping for air as he had suddenly pulled out, whimpering at the lost of your warm tongue on him, but he then growled as he searched like a mad man through his pockets for the key to the chains.
He had gotten most of them off of you in lightning speed, but the frustration of his high pending had him ripping off the rest of the chains from the chair, sending the pieces flying.
You were shocked at his desperation, and at his strength, trying to collect the thought of who he was as he was controlling, weak, desperate, and a good fucker-
“AH!”
Breath escaping your lungs as Reaper had grabbed you by the waist roughly and placed you face-down on the ground, hips pulled up to meet his crotch.
But what confused you was when he hesitantly asked, still using his firm tone,
“You sure are you want this?”
Your head was pressed to the cold ground by his hand, but you lifted it slightly as he had let you do so, wondering what you were going to say. Eyes meeting his you replied nonchalantly,
“It’s part of the deal isn’t it?”
His stern look turned unexpressive,
“That doesn’t answer it-“
“Fuck me Reaper, please.”
Fine, that’s what you wanted that’s what you’d get.
“As you wish.”
Cold air met your ass as he had pulled down your shorts, lifting your knees so he could slide them off completely.
‘Smack!!’
You let out a sharp squeal as his warm, large palm had met your ass, before his cock was pressed up to your clit, rubbing your wet slick all over it. You had grown soaking wet at gagging on his cock, and now your wetting him again as he’s pressing his tip into you.
He watched you for your reactions to his thick cock entering your tight pussy, but like that damned trained Ghost you were, you were expressionless, holding all the emotions in you in a cage, even when the craziest of things were happening to you.
But that made him almost angry, hating that you were the Ghost and hiding the emotions, while he gave up everything of himself to break you.
So he’d then break you- with his cock.
The rest of his length he slammed into you, and the only reaction you showed was with a groan,
“oh fuck”
He had started pounding into that pussy of yours, harder than ever, his hands gripping your ass tightly or your hips, wanting to leave marks and maybe cause a fraction a pain to you- just to hear your cry or break- but instead you moaned out like a bitch in heat. Although tears had started to fall- not cause your soul broke, but your body responded to him breaking it.
“Fuck!! Ugh- harder Reaper pl-please!!”
A sob escaped your wet lips as Reaper grasped onto your hip painfully hard, and his other hand found your throat, bringing your back against his chest with a hard smack, earning a delicious gasp from you.
He relentlessly began to rut into your throbbing pussy. Punctuating his words with every thrust.
“Fuckin’ helll... What. A. Good. Fucking. Pussy. Yesss Ohhhh fuck!!”
Squelching, wet sounds could be heard from your pussy as you were dripping from his precum and yours, skin slapping repeatedly followed as he went on and on, following your command to the perfect ‘T’.
His hard thrusts met your cervix every time, hitting that gummy part in you that had your toes curling and eyes rolling back, your breath was even knocked out of you as he pounded you like an animal.
Soon his hand left your hip, and traveled down your navel, straight to your clit, his two fingers pressed down on it and made you squeal,
“Oh!! Reaper- please touch my pussy! Ah- Yes!!! Like that!!!”
Small but hard circles were pressed onto your clit, further stimulating your climaxing high as your body was experiencing euphoria on a whole other level. He could feel how dangerously close you were to the edge, as your pussy clamped down hard on his cock, swallowing his length like a tight vice.
So to put an end to the chase, he purposely found your clit once again and rubbed tight circles, while railing into you faster than ever as he felt his high coming too.
“Cum f’me. C’mon Red- oh fuck-“
You got a hand full of his hair from behind you and pulled it as you began to see stars and your legs even started shaking.
“Oh fuck I’m cumming- please don’t st-stop!! Oh fuck Reaper!!”
Toes curling as you let out a long moan, finally feeling the band snap, and stars escaping every where. Reaper rode out your high as he rutted his hips into you, dragging the pleasure out for you as he drive himself closer, wanting to feel your warm cunt a little longer.
He was going to come any second now, his thrusts were harsh, quick, and the rhythm wasn’t consistent anymore, he had lost his streak a long while ago as he was going crazy rutting into your pussy.
All this while you were of breath, as you felt it all dissipate, but it was cut short when Reaper suddenly held a firm grip on your waist and flipped you over.
“Oh-“
When you fell on your back you saw the man hover over you. He was covered in sweat and his cheeks held a bright pink color, his eyes- all of him screamed sex and highs as he looked down at you hungrily.
When he had discarded all of his clothes- you’d never know, but he was bare before you, his tits- chest.. his chest glistening in the light covered in different tattoos which held different stories.. scars were part of the design on his canvased body.
Wet sounds could still be heard and that’s when your eyes and head tracked down to seeing him milk his cock, girthy it was and long in length too, red at the tip.
Your hands grabbed onto his that held your throat tight, as he began to let low moans and small whimpers escape.
Wanting to spur the moment, you began to coo,
“Come on Reaper... reward me.. give it to me.”
Your voice got him high and in seconds you were hearing a deep growl escaping his parted lips, and soon felt the warmth of his thick white cum painting your tummy to your breasts.
For being called Reaper he looked like a angel to you. He was quite the sight to behold... but now.. it was your time to shine like the Ghost your were after all.
As he tired to soak in is post-sex moment, you caught him by the waist with your legs, and flipped him around, where you ended up above him- hovering over him this time.
Simon’s brown eyes didn’t catch yours as your face was over his, but it was a glistening shine, a dagger shining in threat as it was pressed against his throat.
Words couldn’t collect in his mind which meant his tongue was speechless.
‘What the fuck-‘
“Did I pass the test Lieutenant.. Ghost?”
That sultry voice of yours came out from the bottom of your cold heart.
Simon let out a choked sound as he couldn’t quite grasp what the heck had just happened and what the hell he was looking at.
He was still coming down from his high and now feeling confusion if not panic arise in him at this, and it wasn’t a good combination if you wanted a clear head. But his fuck up kinda dawned on him as you added,
“I knew it was you Simon Riley…”
Oh fuck he shamelessly could’ve cum again at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, how wicked of you, but weak of him.
Although his eyes did widen and still showed that he didn’t necessarily believe you, so you went on with a sweet chuckle,
“what? You though that only you did your homework on people? Ha.. think again ‘Ghost’.. no matter how much ‘you’ think so little of me, I’ll always be a Ghost.. and of course.. I did my homework on you too. I know ALL about you.”
You then planted your hand on his neck, where a large scar laid, and you calmly yet firmly stated, eyes filled with honesty,
“I wrote the file on when you got buried alive, and crawled your way out. And this scar, I wrapped it up for you while you were unconscious on the heli when we finally found and picked your ass up.”
A breath of relief was then released from your lips, as you had finally got this confession off your chest, with exhaustion you plopped down onto Simon’s chest, resting your palms on your thighs. Simon didn’t realize how effective you were as a Ghost, and how much you knew about him now more than ever… he couldn’t risk letting you go now.
His hands snaked around you and rested on your hips, giving a gentle squeeze as he declared,
“You can’t tell a soul about this.”
With that seductive way of yours, you leaned over Simon and traced his jaw with the dagger, looking straight into his soul as you suggested.
“Then you better ask ‘How hard?’ every time I tell you to fuck me- understood?”
The authority in your voice had him reply with a shuddered breath, not being able to take his ego off its knees. And of course, he was going to comply, he was just as addicted now.
“Affirmative ma’am.”
You smirked in triumph at his response, bringing his pink lips to yours, pressing a messy kiss to his lips and tasting the roof of his mouth. He let a sigh escape his throat in pleasure, but it didn’t last long when you bit down hard on his bottom lip, causing him to hiss. Blood trickled down his plumpy lip to his chin, but before it could touch the ground, you slowly- while keeping eye contact with Simon, you licked it up and cooed,
“Good boy…”
Like a shy school boy Simon’s cheeks were dusted with pink, his eyes not meeting yours anymore as he was filled with shame for his foolishness, and for how weak he was- falling into a Ghost’s trap so easily.
You then gripped his chin and gave him a last lecture, just for him to carry on.
“Next time you pull a gun on me to question my ability.. just remember I’m always two steps ahead of you- although fucking your gun was damn pleasurable. Oh and one last thing.. I specialize in seductiveness as a Ghost… this pussy gets answers every time. But no one has lived ‘till the end of it- but you..”
-I need help y’all-
#call of duty#call of duty smut#cod smut#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley smut#ghost smut#cod ghost#simon riley#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley cod#ghost cod#simon riley fanfic#simon ghost riley
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𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙞 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩. - kento n.
content warning !! - enemies to lovers w nanami (i caved), blackfem!reader, ngh modelceo!reader, ceo!nanami, me putting my business and entrepreneurship knowledge to use, light intoxication, suggestiveness at the end
a/n - IM BACK YALL WOOOOOO, sorry for making u wait @jellicatty 🙁
For years, Nanami has held himself to competition with you and your company. If he had a tier-list of all the people he hated, you were a close second to Gojo. To say he hated your guts was an understatement, some thought he just had some sort of lingering grudge, others assumed you two just got off the wrong foot but they couldn't be far from wrong. That man practically wanted you dead, and that's a hard call to make from someone who was raised well.
His mother was nothing short of a good woman, she taught his son to do great things—respect elders, women, and children alike, offer up his seat to those who needed it more than him, never pray upon someone's downfall no matter how hard they made his life. Each and every time he comes across your presence, he closes his eyes and mentally apologizes to his mother.
Your being insinuates such hatred within him. The way you arose to popularity out of nowhere due to what? Daddy's money? Your looks that earned you sexiest woman alive four years in a row? He wasn't accepting that 'model starting their own company' bullshit, not that he didn't believe one couldn't, just not you.
He recalls the very first moment he met you, three years ago when you made his life hell. 'Japan's Top Model, L/n Y/n, announces her official clothing line.' Who knew a simple headline could turn his future upside down? At the time, he'd only heard of you once or twice over a news article or a random scandal that just so happened to sneak into his algorithm. But this was different, it effected him in every way possible.
Suddenly, he has competition. 'LVS' stocks had reached a pinnacle point within just a few weeks of launching, he'd never seen those abbreviations before, the next, his own business was constantly being compared to by this new threatening company. All things after that basically consisted of Nanami fighting for his top spot. You can't even describe how upset he was when he first met you. A beautiful woman, buttering up the chairman into letting you attend the business meetings that he [Nanami] went to, pretty tits bouncing when introducing yourself to the other members of the council, and that gleam of something in your eye when you finally met with Nanami.
"So you're the one hogging No. 1?"
He doesn't give a damn how many of the other pervs fell for your charm, to him, you were the devil in disguise.
Nanami Kento despised you with every fibre of his person. Even at this formal event.
"Sexiest woman alive"? Damn right you were. He can see how easily the others fell for you, if he didn't have his head screwed on tight, he would've been the next one to take you in the office.
That black sleeveless maxi dress kept him on his toes the entire night, curves and assets prominent. The way you held your glass of sparkling rosé, chatting it up with whoever that unfortunate soul was that thought they would get you in their bed after this was all over. Nanami held his own drink, a good amount of scotch that'd get him through the remainder of the event without bashing someone's head in. He's trying to listen to his colleague brag about his latest product of his work that's been selling well, but you being in his line of sight smiling and giggling seemed way more appealing.
In no way is Nanami a man who occupied himself with women, until he found a good place to settle and retire, a relationship didn't have any room in his life. To the best of his abilities, he ignores the now reciprocated exchange of stares, only sipping from the modern glass whenever he felt he needed the extra loosening.
And loose he was.
You look good. Too good. He turned his head to avoid indulging, not with the woman who's downfall he's prayed upon. Though it's far too late because that scotch is getting it's moneys worth having already downed three glasses and bringing him closer and closer to the woman he claimed he loathed.
His compliments were unlike anything he's ever thought of you. "You look stunning tonight." "Your stylist did an amazing job." "The pictures do you no justice." Drunk words are sober thoughts as they say. His eyes were telling more than his words, he wanted you bad.
Compared to any other elderly male he knew what to say to have you feel won over, even if you were well aware of his hatred towards you. So.. though it was just for a night, you returned the favor. Addressing his compliments with your own, insisting that the media makes such false claims about his person, feeling him up, and eventually dragging him to the bathroom to show him exactly how you shot to the top.
"You minx." He hisses as your kisses trail lower from his jaw. "Oh? What happened to all that talk you were doing?" You effortlessly tug his tie off, allowing it to hang from his neck. "Do you do this with every man you want to surpass?" He grits, fighting his natural urges to give in. "Very few, only the ones that act uppity and look good in a suit."
"Fuck... I hate you so much."
©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)
#anime#anime and manga#animanga#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#guess who#nanami kento#kento nanami#nanami x reader#enemies to lovers#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#ceo nanami#grgrgrrg i wanna bite him#i hate school
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Everything Great About a Match: Troy Baker v Shane McCall (bgeast.com)
Everything Great About a Match: +9
Troy Baker v Shane McCall (bgeast.com)
SPOILER ALERT: I highly recommend viewing this match in its entirety before reading this post.
So let's begin: +1: For Troy... very few wrestlers have reached Troy's shredded abs level of perfection. Now for all those pretty guys out there who are squeamish or can't get into wrestling. Troy has no such problem - the guy handles his face/jobber role like a man.
There are no words needed to explain the perfection that is Troy's body.
Troy baiting his heel to get him to wrestle.
+1: For Shane at the height of his heel prowess. No wrestler was more experienced, more intimidating, more domineering, than Shane at the height of his heel perfection. The guy has paid his dues as a jobber and is finally coming into his own at this point. +A for Shane if the A stands for Asserting his will on a jobber.
+1: The chemistry between a forcible heel and a tough as nails jobber selling this match to perfection. What do you get when you combine a rugged, top notch heel with a pliable, take anything you can throw his way jobber - you get this masterpiece, that's what. It's not so much a 'fight' as a testosterone fueled dance with each man knowing their roles to perfection.
+1: Along those lines, these two pros truly know how to turn a muscled brawl into a narrative between men. All those hard bodies are one thing but to take all that and add in the competition, the twists and turns, the adrenaline - all work to make this match legendary.
Troy's thighs are strong enough to take down anyone ... but sometimes it's skill not strength that is king.
Troy is not going to just take it.
+1: For this seamless Ab stretch to an over-the-knee backbreaker. Shane absolutely is the man for pulling this off and his ability to unleash this on poor Troy is a triumph.
Shane: What do you say? Huh?
Troy: [Groan]
Shane: Give it up! Give it up man! Troy: I ... I...
+1: Shane knows how to humiliate his jobber. Short of begging, Troy is made to show how useless those show muscles are against the shear tenacity of Shane.
Something about making that cocky muscle hunk climb up your burly body to prove you're the man!
Or teaching him a lesson and making him arch his back in pain.
+1: For that Heel-turn. Troy was simply never destined to win. While Troy may be gifted by genetics one hundred times over, gay wrestling has a way of making things right in the world by turning those ripped golden muscles a bright shade of red, I think the exact color is punishment red to be exact.
In a shock to the system, the unconquerable has been conquered.
First the celebration ... More celebration with those sweaty shiny abs...
Then to add glistening muscly insult to jobber victory - Troy pours water on himself.
Just one step too far. You've poked the bear and will regret this Troy!
Yup celebration hangover.
+1: For that Ending. To further lay claim of the jobber, Shane pours more cold water on the jobber and makes the man submit over and over again until he's satisfied. Soaking wet muscles glisten with water and Shane shows him off for all to see. I mean what good is a victory if not to put that shiny, bronze, strong body on display like your own personal trophy. Hell, making a Trophy jobber out of Troy is worth a bonus point there [+1].
Soak your muscle boy until he's good and shiny
Then unleash all hell on his best assets.
A win isn't really a victory unless your opponent is so destroyed he regrets ever agreeing to the match.
------- Everything Great About this Match: +9
So there you have it. It's really not an exaggeration when they say they don't make em like this anymore. Where else can you see two wrestling titans in their respective levels of, overpower you heel-ness, and give you everything I got jobber-ness. The biggest mistake of all time was when Troy seductively poured water on himself. The man might as well shine a searchlight on that sculpted ripped body of his and announce he was ready for some heel punishment. In the end, it's no surprise that Troy was destroyed, put on humiliating display, and claimed as Shane's personal trophy to add to his collection.
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That's A Wrap!
The 2024 Clint Barton Celebration Bang has officially come to a close!
We have collectively created 10 fics, 10 pieces of artwork, and 2 podfics, all celebrating the greatest archer in the world!! There's something for everyone - whether you're a long time Clint Barton fan or just starting out; whether you like friendships, relationships, or fully-focused character studies; whether you like shorter snapshots or longer epics. Check out the full list below and send these amazing creators some love!
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Anchor Points
Fic by @widowsresolve | Art by @betrayedbycinnamon 37,935 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton & Barney Barton, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Clint Barton &/ Natasha Romanov
Summary: For one glorious, gravity-defying moment, Clint felt like he was flying as he jumped from the swing.
It made him feel like he could do anything. It made him feel fearless and untouchable.
He needed more of that in his life.
--
The journey of Clint's life from a boy wishing for a better life in Waverly, Iowa to the man who becomes an Avenger and the relationships that helped to make him who he is.
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(hands) touching hands
Fic by @safelycapricious | Art by @auripigmentum 2,384 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen and Up Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Summary: “And what name was on your wrist?” Coulson asks.
“Uh, none?” Clint says, scratching at his eyebrow.
“You have a burn scar,” Coulson says, carefully, like he’s talking to a bomber off of a ledge, “where your soulmate name was.”
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The Healing Properties of Air Vents and Hot Chocolate
Fic by @sishal01 | Podfic by @flowerparrish 4,002 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton &/ Bucky Barnes
Summary: Clint gets de aged and little Clint is who finally pulls Bucky out of the asset
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Once in a Lifetime
Fic by @betrayedbycinnamon | Art by @carcrash429 12,088 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton & Laura Barton
Summary: Nobody knows exactly which Clint triggered the inter-dimensional dominoes, but it doesn't really matter in the end, because this one just needs to focus on his new reality. He discovers some things about himself along the way.
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the road not taken looks real good now
Fic by @sup3rbloom | Art by @rufferto9 5,660 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen and Up Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes
Summary: Clint is going on a road trip after the events of End Game. He needs some time to clear his head before getting back into the thick of it. While on the road, Clint runs into someone unexpected, and finds himself taking care of none other than Bucky Barnes himself, which eventually leads to Clint falling in love a little along the way.
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some of us are just born with tragedy
Fic by @graffiti-bi | Art by @auripigmentum 14,424 Words, 4/4 Chapters, Not Rated
Summary: After the events of Freefall, Clint and Lucky flee to Waverly. No one's going to look for him in a town he hasn't thought of setting foot in for the better part of two decades. Plus when it's safe to head back to New York he can just sell the farm and be done with the place for good. There's nothing left for him or Barney there anyways. Right?
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Summer Seasons
Fic by @teeelsie-posts | Art by @nolanfa | Art by @carcrash429 23,285 Words, 5/? Chapters, Explicit Clint Barton/Dick Grayson
Summary: The autumn that Clint is 12 years old, for the first time that he can remember, something really good happens.
The autumn that Clint is 12 years old, he meets Dick Grayson.
OR A Clint Barton POV companion piece to Winter Quarters.
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Support You All The Way
Fic and Podfic by @42donotpanic | Link to Art @wyxan 10,012 Words, 6/6 Chapters, Explicit Clint Barton/Matt Murdock
Summary: Matt notices his Partner changes over time.
OR:
5 times Natalie struggled with gender and 1 time Clint realised who he really was
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That's So Fletch
Fic by @artaxlivs | Art by @rufferto9 10,115 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Explicit Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes
Summary: Stop trying to make fletch a thing.
(I will not, nor will I stop shamelessly plugging 80s and 90s cult classics.)
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wrap your roots all around my bones
Fic by @carcrash429 | Art by @noxnthea 30,212 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton & Steve Rogers
Summary: “What exactly do you think it is we’ve found?”
“Pieces of yourself that you thought were lost.”
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Clint and Steve thought they knew each other pretty well after six months of working and living together. Turns out, they each have a lot of ghosts buried in their past, waiting to be uncovered.
💜💜💜💜
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How You Get the Girl - Final
Supergirl. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers, Barry Allen.
Word Count: 3335.
Part 1 / Part 2
Lena holds your face firmly, planting kisses all over it, making it impossible for you to move. Not that you would—there's nowhere else you'd rather be. You wouldn't move even if the room was on fire.
"I can't believe this is real." she whispers between kisses. Your cheeks flush, not because of her words, but the raw, desperate sincerity in her voice. It makes you feel like the most amazing person in the entire multiverse.
"Mhm, you know," you say, pausing between her soft pecks on your lips, "I love all this, but maybe we shouldn't be at CatCO anymore."
Lena pulls back slightly, her face betraying a flash of insecurity. Kissing someone that looks exactly like her employee at the workplace, one in a committed relationship even, clearly unsettles her.
"Okay, you're right." She slips into CEO mode so quickly it startles you. Pacing the room, she starts brainstorming. "Should I sell CatCO? Or find someone to run it for me and come back to this Earth on sporadically occasions? But what’s the point? Should we be worrying about which universe we're going to and—"
You get up from the couch, silencing her with a kiss. She's left breathless, lips shiny and red, staring at you as if you've taken all the words from her. "You were asking a lot of important questions, honey, but I was thinking of something else. I meant we should go to your place. I'm pretty sure there's a bed there, and we'd be much more comfortable."
"You know what? You do have good ideas!" She grins, and you can't help but mirror her smile. This smile. This one is new. Something your Earth's Lena never did.
"Look at that, I found a difference," you say, kissing the corner of her mouth. "That smile, I've never seen it before."
"I've never given it before."
You raise your eyebrows, surprised. "It's mine?"
"All yours." Lena says with such depth it knocks the air out of your lungs. And you realize she’s not just talking about the smile.
Lena looks at the ring on your finger, and you give her a nod. There's a lot to be scared of while facing this new reality you both wished into existence, but figuring out where to go next shouldn't be one of them. Yet, Lena's sweaty hands gripping yours tell you she didn't get the memo.
By now, you have traveled to so many Earths that they all look different and somewhat the same. It's hard to explain. The novelty of new worlds has started to wear off.
"Hey Barry!"
"Y/N!" Barry exclaims, his voice filled with surprise. "And Lena?" His eyes drop to your intertwined hands. "Wait, which Earth are you guys from?"
"Earth-99," you say, pointing to yourself. He nods, recognizing you. Then you point to Lena. "Earth-242."
Barry's eyes widen, and he stays silent for a moment. You don't rush him, knowing he needs time to process. "Okay, wait a minute. Kara told you about the Earth I visited?" You nod. "So you went to a different Earth and found a Lena that loves you?" You nod again. After a pause, he adds, "Please don't tell me you're here because—"
"You guys could use my powers," you interrupt, raising your eyebrows suggestively. "And you could use her brains."
Barry looks like he wants to argue, but he can't. Not when he’s the guy who makes some of the most questionable decisions across many worlds. "I guess this is kind of my fault, isn't it?"
"One hundred percent started with you, yeah."
"Well—" He still seems like he wants to argue, but then something clicks. He realizes you and Lena could be valuable assets to the team. Soon, he smiles like a child. "Fine, you guys can stay. Welcome to Earth-1! Oh, and the S.T.A.R. Labs. The team will love having you here."
Lena looks around with a huge smile on her face. "Oh, I'm going to like this place."
You can't help but mirror her smile, seeing how excited she is. "If you're happy, I'm home."
Barry gestures for you both to follow him. "Let's go tell the others."
Earth-242 loses its Lena. She sells CatCo, donates some of her money, and invests the rest in her friends. Initially, they seem upset, but when they see her smiling at you, their anger softens. They want her to be happy, and she is happy. If they find it awkward that she is dating you, they don't mention it, and you’re grateful for that.
Assuming it would have been the same on your Earth, however, was a clear misjudgment of your friends' characters.
"So," Lena is helping you pack. She carefully folds your clothes while you toss them haphazardly into a box. "When are you going to tell your friends?"
"Well, I sent my resignation letter from CatCo a few minutes ago, which pretty much means Kara will be barging in through the window anytime now."
Lena comes closer, "And you're sure, right?" Her hands make way to your face and her touch is so good you lean into it without a second thought. "Darling?"
"Hm?" Lena has her eyebrows raised in question while waiting for your answer. "I've never been more sure about anything else in my life, ok?" You hold her waist and smile at her insecure expression. "You and I working in S.T.A.R labs sounds like a dream."
"There's no Kara in his universe." Lena makes sure you remember that.
"Yeah I know." You kiss her forehead and smile. "We'll be fine, honey." She still looks uncertain. "Come on, Lena. I can live without Kara just fine."
"Oh really?" Kara barges in through the window that very second and you roll your eyes at the situation. Great, here she comes right on time. "You can live without me, huh?"
You've never seen Kara this upset before, not while looking at you anyway. Perhaps at one super villain that got her really mad. But not you, never you.
"Kar," Your heart beats faster while you approach her. "I can explain. That was completely out of context."
"Well then, please." Kara points at you, then glances at Lena behind you. "What is Lena doing here? I thought she was at headquarters."
"Right." You gesture for Lena to come closer. "Kara, this is Lena from Earth-242."
"Hi!" Lena smiles kindly. "I know this is confusing, you look exactly like the Kara from my universe too."
Kara's mouth opens and closes, unable to form a sentence.
"Well, Lena and I are together!" You smile brightly, throwing your arm around her. "And we're moving to Earth-1. Barry got us a job at S.T.A.R. labs and so we're packing my things."
One of Kara's eyes blinks, just one, while she tries to comprehend all that you're saying. She stumbles back into the bed, and lets herself fall into it with a murmured, "What?"
"I emailed in my resignation letter to Ms. Grant today, I was terrified to face her."
Kara clutches her chest. "What?"
"Darling," Lena calls your attention and you look at her. "Maybe go slower." She points to the door. "I'll be packing your kitchen stuff. You two can take your time."
Kara isn't listening to you. She fires off question after question, without giving you time to answer. So, you stay silent, watching her process everything.
"You're leaving? With a Lena? You're dating Lena? Oh my Gosh, you did love Lena. And I said it was crazy. But it is crazy. It's so crazy you're dating a different Lena from another universe and you're moving to Barry's universe? Is that even legal?" Kara reaches for her comm. "Emergency meeting in the headquarters, something insane is about to happen."
You sigh, looking at her, about to argue, but Kara points a firm finger at you. "Get your Lena there. Now."
"You know you're not my boss, right?" One hard look later, you call out, "Honey, we're going to the headquarters!"
You and Lena make it to the headquarters with Kara on your tow, so she is sure you two won't vanish into another universe (her words, not yours). The whole team is there already and Lena squeezes your hand a little stronger when she senses your anxiety.
"Hey," She whispers close to your ear. "They love you, they'll be happy that you're happy." You look at her, swallowing hard as she assures you with her eyes. "And if not –" She taps on your ring lightly.
"Is that…" Lena narrows her eyes at her counterpart waltzing in the headquarters hand-in-hand with you. "Me?"
"Hi everyone. This is Lena, from Earth-242." You decide to tell them all at once, so they can't argue. “She’s my girlfriend. We’re very happy, and we’re moving to Earth-1 together and working at S.T.A.R labs.”
Kara points at you, “See! Something crazy!”
“It’s not crazy.” You huff annoyed, even though all of your friends are looking at you like you just grew a second head. “It’s love!”
Earth-99 Lena, it’s the first one to say, “well, this is awkward.”
“No, no. There’s nothing awkward about this.” But they are all looking at each other trying to understand how to best react to this.
J'onn clears his throat. "Well, I wish you both good luck on your journey." He says getting opposite reactions from everyone else. He ignores them, and comes closer, shaking both yours and your girlfriend's hands. "I hope you two find happiness on Earth-1, and visit us anytime you have a chance."
"What the fuck!" Alex exclaims from behind him.
"You'll be missed, Y/N, but I understand your decision." J'onn looks back at the others. "I'll patrol the city while you continue this conversation."
For a moment, the room is silent, but then Kara takes a deep breath, and everyone starts talking at once.
"You're crazy!"
"This is insane!"
"Are you shitting me?"
When they finally stop, they all look at each other, seemingly agreeing on a plan.
"Earth-242 Lena, can we talk to you?" Kara starts.
And at the same time, this Earth Lena looks at you, “Can we talk in private?”
You agree with your head and follow her into a private room in the headquarters. Only Kara would be able to listen to your conversation, but you don’t think she is dying to know what’s happening inside this room when she is quizzing your girlfriend to death in another one.
“So, you’re dating… me.”
You bite your tongue. How will you get yourself out of this one? “Well, you said that we’re all different people, remember?”
She doesn’t, by the way she is looking at you completely lost. You’re not surprised she doesn't recall the moment when everything changed in your life, she was, as always, barely aware of your presence.
"I asked about it and you said there wouldn't be a paradox. We're different individuals."
"Well, yes, but she's still me somehow." She seems to be carefully choosing her words, but when she speaks again, you don't think she chose the right ones. "Isn't that the reason you're with her? I mean, you barely know her. What you know is because she reminds you of me."
"That's not true. You two are different."
She doesn't believe that, but for the sake of winning this argument she lets it slide. "Then how do you know that you're in love with her?"
"Sometimes there's no proof. Sometimes you just know."
She stares at you in disbelief and repeats, "Darling, she is me."
"No, she isn't. And you wanna know why?" Lena raises her eyebrows, encouraging you to speak. "Because she loves me. Because, God, Lena, she can give me everything you never could. Love and smiles and—" You turn around, you can't look at her face while you say that. "We've been falling into beds together, and in each other's arms. Just loving each other so hard, I can't even remember what it's like to be a mess over someone who never gave a damn about me." You breathe out. "So, do I still need to tell you how she brought me back to life?"
She doesn't talk for what it feels like an eternity. You never once thought this was how you were going to confess your feelings for her. But now, it doesn't matter anymore. It might never have mattered in the first place.
You turn around slowly, Lena's eyes are filled with unshed tears. "Smiles?"
"What?"
"She can give you smiles?" She repeats. You're sure you've said many, many words after that one, but 'smiles' is the word she decides to focus on. You nod slightly and Lena lets out an incredulous laughter. "Like I never smiled at you?"
"Different smiles."
"Different smiles, okay." Lena parrots, wiping her eyes even though no tears have fallen yet. "So, what? You jumped into different universes to find a version of me that would give you different smiles?"
"Shut up." You try to push past her, but she blocks you. "You don't get it. You'll never get it."
"Why?" Lena's voice is small, despite her standing tall in front of you, blocking your escape.
"Because!" You try to move past her, but she holds your wrists, pinning you against the wall.
"Because what? Say it!" Lena growls with such intensity, a hard gaze flickering between your mouth and your eyes.
"Because you wouldn't love me!" You yell.
Lena blinks at you. The splash of blue in her eye takes you off guard, you've never noticed it before. You knew that about your Lena, but you hadn't realized all of them had just a tiny bit of heterochromia.
Then she finally blinks away a tear. You hold your breath to the small tear rolling down her cheek and time just stops between you. You both get so caught up in the moment, she lets go of your wrists, hands dropping to her sides. You swallow deep while raising your hand to her face. Your thumb brushes softly against her skin to clean a single tear she shed for you.
You smile. "Different smiles, different tears." You explain. "I know you're confused, and I was confused too. For so long I was confused about this. But then I kissed her, and now I know."
"Well, maybe you need to be confused again." Lena pushes you further into the wall, no space for you to even breathe without having your body fully pressed against hers.
You know what's coming next, and here's the thing, you could fight it but it doesn't even seem worth it.
So when Lena kisses you, you think back of the many Lenas you've kissed in different universes. The sweet familiar pecks; The passionate disgraceful kisses; The 'you're mine' kisses; The 'I wish you were mine' ones; The many lips and tongues and hands; And then this one.
When she breaks the kiss for air, you have a dopey smile on your face and a light behind your eyes, you don't think it was there before.
Lena smiles too, satisfied with herself. And if you're being fair, you don't think you've ever seen this smile on her face.
"Ok. So now that I have you confused again," She starts and you think she keeps talking, something about how to keep you on this Earth and get the other Lena back home or whatever. You're not even sure, you're not listening. Body buzzing so loud, you're shaking.
"Sorry, I've got to —" You run to the door, since now she's given you enough space to do so.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"Oh." You offer her a smile, the first one since this whole conversation started. You see, the other ones, they weren't for her. "I'm going home."
She looks puzzled, so you give her more information.
"You know, Lena, when you have perfect, 'almost' is never enough." You run back into the main space, you think Lena is right behind you but you're not sure, can't see her. You're not even aware if there's anyone in this place except for her. Your Lena, the Lena.
She's caught by surprise when you hold her hand, but is quick to get up and ignore the last question fired at her by the three musketeers. "She's done explaining herself to you. We're going home."
"Wait —" Kara tries.
"No." You keep making your way out.
"Y/N, please." You think you hear Lena's voice, but it could've been Kara, or maybe even Alex, you don't care. But your escape is put to a halt, and you turn around with a frown on your face.
"No, you guys don't get it. And we don't have to explain ourselves. I love her. This one." You raise your intertwined fingers so they all can see it. "This Lena is the one for me. And you can accept that and be happy that I'm finally happy, or not. But what you can't do is try to mess up with this. Do you all get me? Me and my girlfriend are moving to Earth-1, we're starting a life together. Because she is the one I want. And no other Lena will ever do. No other person will ever do."
You look back at her and see the smile. Different, unabashed, yours. Earth-99 Lena might have a thousand different smiles you've never seen, but you don't care about them. You like this one. This one is yours.
You look at her, doe-eyed. "You're with me?"
"I'll die." She whispers. "I'll die a sure death if I can't be with you."
Epilogue.
"Honey, do you know if Barry is bringing Iris?" You ask, going to the kitchen. Lena is organizing the many dips she bought so they look nice. She has her hair down in messy little waves, a large t-shirt and comfortable sweatpants. Barefoot on the kitchen floor, and not even an ounce of make up on her face. You smile at the perfect sight. "Why are you making all of that? It's just a game night with our friends."
"You know your friends from Earth-99 are coming too. And yes, Iris is coming too." She accepts the kiss you plant on her cheek with a bright smile.
You peek inside one box. "You bought potstickers just for Kara, didn't you?"
"And the special beer Alex likes, and I snuck the new prototype out of the lab so I can show Winn." Lena says, sounding more excited to see your friends than you.
"That's why they love you a lot more than they love me." You joke and she chuckles, holding you from behind.
"I'm just happy they came around."
You turn around so you can face her, but her arms never leave your waist. You kiss her forehead and peck her lips.
"They would be crazy not to. You're the best Lena in the multiverse, even they can't deny that."
"How about Earth-17 Lena who helps every other Earth when they are in crisis? You know, the one responsible for this." She raises her eyebrows and you know what she means.
"No one's responsible for this, but us. If we hadn't kissed, we would never know." Your finger goes to her chin and you tilt it the slightest so you can kiss her better. And God, how is it possible that every kiss you share with her, feels the exact same as that first one. Explosive, urgent and in perfect harmony. "Just don't tell Barry that, or he might kick us out of S.T.A.R. labs."
"We're indispensable at the labs, darling."
"No. You are indispensable. I'm just the comic relief." You joke and Lena laughs as bright and easy as the sun. And shit, this Lena is so much better than any other Lena. Not only because she is yours, but like, damn, look at her. You're sure, you'd have died many deaths if it wasn't for her.
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Ok so I know it’s really easy to think, “oh yeah the trump org conviction is just a million dollar fine, they didn’t even charge trump, it’s nothing but a slap on the wrist”. I understand why it seems that way. Not just because of the pitiful sentence they’re about to receive, but because it still seems as if Trump and his cronies will escape Justice.
But hear me out.
This is just the beginning.
This is absolutely just the beginning of the end of the trump organization.
The trump org has a lot of debt. Like. A shit ton. Donald trump has called himself “the king of debt”, because he built his empire off nothing but loans and over-inflated property as collateral for those loans. Most of the trump org’s wealth is is tied into those properties. Most of the property is tied into the loans. And most of Donald Trump’s wealth is tied into the trump org and it’s properties.
With their still hot and fresh convictions, the trump org’s biggest issue is it’s bank problem. Using fraudulent business records on a bank loan will invalidate the loan. A jury just found that the trump org filed fraudulent business records. It’s a safe bet that right now, banks are auditing their loans with them, to find out if the documents submitted on their applications were fraudulent.
Banks don’t take too kindly to their borrowers lying to them or using fraudulent records to secure a loan. If the banks find out the trump org lied on their loan applications, they’re gonna start calling in these loans. Loans the Trump Org doesn’t have the cash on hand to cover, because their wealth is tied into their assets.
Of course, he could always go out and ask for another loan from a different bank. But since the trump org was just found guilty of falsifying their business records, no bank is ever going to go near them again. Let alone loan them ANOTHER 1 billion dollars. Their credibility as a company who can be trusted with big money loans is dead and gone. They’ve been blacklisted.
Which leaves the trump org and it’s owners in a very precarious situation. They need cash to pay off these loans, but they don’t have it. So they can steal top secret documents and sell them, or they will have to liquidate their assets to garner the cash to pay the loans.
Small problem, though. The Trump Org used their property as collateral, meaning they can’t sell their properties without notifying the banks, getting their approval, and giving the banks their fair share of the final sale. And if they were to try to sell their properties, they wouldn’t be allowed to. Because the trump org overinflated the value of it’s assets to secure the loans in the first place. So the real value of its assets is *much* lower than what the banks were told it was worth, and what they were given in loans. The bank is never going to let them sell their assets for pennies on the dollar. Instead, they’re going to invalidate the loan and make them pay it in full. And if they can’t pay, they will keep the collateral.
Knowing they have shit tons of debt that is likely to be called in, AND that they can’t liquidate their assets to pay it, this leaves the trump org with only one viable option: declaring bankruptcy. A last ditch effort.
Bankruptcy could be an out for them. We’v seen it before. A company declares bankruptcy, moves their assets around, and then reforms under the guise of a different company that has, effectively, a clean slate.
Enter: the state of New York. Also the trump orgs biggest problem.
New York District Attorney Letita James has been investigating the trump org’s finances for years now, uncovering a litany of fraud and tax evasion in the process. She worked in conjunction with the Manhattan DA to bring the charges the trump org was just convicted of. She has filed a civil lawsuit against the trump org, accusing them of a years-long practice of, you guessed it: tax fraud and filing fraudulent business records.
Her lawsuit is now a complete slam dunk. She is arguing that the trump org committed tax fraud and defrauded the state by falsifying it’s business records. Not only does she have all of the trump orgs financial records and bank statements, which in itself is enough to win the lawsuit, but the trump org was just criminally charged with 17 counts of tax fraud and falsifying business records. Pretty strong and convincing evidence the company committed the crime, if you were a person sitting on that jury.
The lawsuit seeks to revoke the business license of the owners of the trump org in the state of New York, forcing them to relocate the business and apply for a business license in a different state. This would require submitting the company’s business records and getting approval for a business license. And since the trump orgs business records have been proven to be fraudulent, there’s a next to 0 chance they get approval for a license outside of NY. Leaving the trump org stuck in NY and at the mercy of the NYAG.
On top of that, the lawsuit also seeks $250 million in damages, which the trump org doesn’t have the cash to cover. Because their wealth is tied into assets they have used as collateral for loans. If they lose the lawsuit, which is a guarantee, and they don’t have the cash to cover the fine, they are subject to having their assets seized by the state of New York.
So unable to pay off the loans, unable to sell their assets, unable to pay the fine from the lawsuit, and unable to relocate their business to a different state, that brings us back to bankruptcy. The trump orgs last and only option to avoid all of this.
Letita James knows bankruptcy is in the future of the trump org. She knows they would attempt to avoid accountability by declaring bankruptcy and starting a new company to transfer their assets (fun fact, trump started a second company in NY called “Trump Org 2”. It was *that* obvious). So just within the past couple of months, she asked the court to appoint a monitor to oversee the trump org’s finances. And that request was granted.
The trump org now has a court ordered monitor overseeing their finances, effectively freezing them and preventing them from wiggling away. They cannot move around their assets and restructure them under the guise of a different company without the knowledge, and approval, of the court. They also cannot sell any of their assets without the knowledge and approval of both the court, and the banks. And every financial statement or transaction from here on out must be approved by the court, meaning they can no longer file false business records to secure massive loans.
(TL;DR) The trump org has been effectively backed into a corner from all sides. If the banks don’t invalidate their loans, they will default on them because the trump org doesn’t have the cash to pay them. If they do invalidate their loans, they trump org will not be able to pay them, and their assets will be seized by the banks. They cannot sell their assets, because their overinflated value was used as collateral. And they risk having their assets seized by the state of NY, which has also appointed a court ordered monitor that prevents them from declaring bankruptcy to avoid accountability.
Oh, and did I mention that Allen Weisselburg, the trump orgs chief financial officer who was given a plea deal after agreeing to testify against the trump org, testified at trial that Donald trump was personally involved in the crimes he, and the trump org, committed. So the owners of the trump org, trump, ivanka, jr, risk potential criminal prosecution and could face the same felonies as their CFO. Because they were directly implicated in the crimes the trump org was convicted of.
So yeah. On its face, the trump org convictions seem inconsequential. But if you were Donald trump, or any of the owners of the trump org, you would be pissing yourself in fear, backed into a corner from all sides awaiting the first of many death blows to land.
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May Prompts 2024
May 10: "Choice"
What had that busybody old neighbor of hers called this? May December romance; that was it – with Martha decidedly in the winter category, grey tips and all. Oh, it certainly wasn’t anything actually romantic. At her age! And not with one, who’d scarcely looked out of short pants, the first time Martha had spotted him outside the club with that awful Jefferies person. She’d seen far too many, like him, given her husband’s line of business. She had nearly sighed and looked past this one, as well, except...
It was those eyes that had done it. Not stirring her to passion, goodness no. But that way he'd looked through her skin, all young and ancient, and saw the self she'd hidden under bright scarves and foundation; thick enough to hide the darkest bruise.
William, he'd called himself. Too skinny. That had been her first thought followed by “too young”... to be on his own and sleeping rough and buying drugs from those terrible dealers, who hadn't even the decency to offer clean needles, much less clean product. She'd, quite quickly, made the choice that he couldn't stay there and had arranged to provide a room above the club. It wasn't very quiet, sadly, but it was clean, off the street, and relatively safe. Little chance of harassment, from dangerous types, with David and Brass standing watch outside the doors below.
And maybe... maybe it was that posh voice... reminding her so much of the home that she hadn't seen in sixteen years.
The first time Martha had seen William cast aside that child-like aura had been after another one of Frank’s rages. He’d held a tissue against her split cheek and told her not to worry – that he’d take care of things. Far from soothing her his statement had frightened her. She knew Frank was involved in a good deal of terrible business. She also knew that he’d been married once before and that his previous spouse had died. Martha was a smart woman and hadn’t needed to be led to water to know there were bodies beneath the surface.
So, when Sherlock had gone out that evening – and remained out all night – Martha had been terrified.
However, when he’d returned, the following morning, several Miami police had been with him. It would be weeks before she’d gotten the entire story from him – enough time for the investigation to complete and to assure that she truly hadn’t known anything.
By the end of the trial, Frank had been extradited to Texas, where he would face the death penalty. Martha had divorced him and she had sold off the business and all of Frank’s assets.
It was William's testimony which had ensured the death penalty at the trial held months later – a period of time in which Martha had gone though tremendous life changes. In addition to selling the club, she she had also sold their massive home, and had purchased a smaller beach house in Ponte Vedra. William had gone with her to assist her in her move. She had invited him to stay on for a while, as her first boarder. Well, she hadn't felt right about leaving him on his own. He'd seemed the type to get into trouble without someone to look out for him.
The day they’d moved in, William had given her a small wrapped package. “A housewarming gift”, he’d said. Inside had been a necklace. It was gold, with a delicate, fleur de le pendant, and tiny amethyst stones.
“Oh, William, it’s lovely!”
“I nicked it from Frank’s safe the night they arrested him.” he’d said – then chuckled when she’d scoffed and slapped his arm.
When had things changed between them? Martha supposed the better question would be if they had ever changed – truly – or had always been that way from the start. First impressions aside there had been no great sea change; no sudden transition from barely acquaintances to motherly guardian. Her life with Frank had never allowed for even the concept of children. The conversation, in their early days of marriage, had been clipped short and final. But now, with William... It should have felt odd – thinking of him like a child when he was, at least technically, a grown man. But there was no shaking the affection she felt for the boy. They would sit for hours, at the beach, as the waves rolled up the sand and the sky went deep blue to hazy pink and orange. His long, skinny, fingers would gather beneath his chin and he would seem to be seeing nothing at all while she would page though a book or simply watch the people go by.
In the evenings she often enjoyed cooking – though she wasn’t his maid and insisted on his participation if he wanted to eat. And, oh, what a precious, awkward creature, he’d been. Once, she'd been preparing dinner, spaghetti, when he'd leaned over her shoulder with that endless, cat-like, curiosity of his. She'd batted him away with her fingers and he'd dodged backward – only to trip over one of the kitchen chairs and land on the linoleum in a tangle. He’d spent the rest of the evening locked away in the spare bedroom; obviously embarrassed. It hadn’t been until the following morning when, sheepishly, he’d emerged in time to help with breakfast.
Ah, but it couldn't have gone on forever and, far too soon, it was time for him to move on.
One evening, some months on, she'd been washing their few dishes from dinner. While rinsing soap suds from the plates, William had glided, silently, into the room. Without a word, he’d taken up station at her side to dry. It had only required minutes to wash up; after which they had simply remained there, watching the neighbor’s children playing outside her kitchen window. Finally he'd said, in a voice so small and sad, “I don’t want to go home.”
Martha had hugged him and he had clung to her, tightly, without saying anything more.
A week later he had been gone. She'd insisted he keep her contact information. He'd assured her it wouldn't be “deleted” though she'd stopped trying to understand his odd word choices long ago.
She'd watched him board his plane; bag filled with his favorite pastries, she'd insisted on preparing for him, while feeling so much like a mum sending her only child off to college.
She would not see him again for nearly a decade.
One morning, out of the blue, she'd received a call from a man introducing himself as “Sherlock Holmes' brother”. The reason behind her silence had been quickly deduced by him (as if she'd need anything more than that little eccentricity to confirm this man as family). In a stiff voice, he'd followed with, “you know him as William.”
He was needing a place to stay. This “Mycroft” would, of course, cover the majority of the cost.
Martha had told him he could very well keep his money. She would not allow another man to have a single quid to hold over her head.
And, of course, he could rent from her.
Of course he could.
She couldn't wait to see him.
When the movers had brought Will- Sherlock’s things to the flat, she had been delighted to discover he wouldn’t be moving in alone.
She had a good feeling about it. A very good feeling indeed.
She knew – had known from the first, really – that the best choice she had ever made was to take in that young, frightened boy, all those years ago.
With fresh excitement, that had not caught her so keenly in a decade, Martha grabbed her hoover and headed up the seventeen steps to the flat above. It was time to get ready, after all.
William was coming home.
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Prompt: Hisoka is reminded of his mother. Rating: 15+ Words: 600 Note: A drabble I should have posted on Mother's Day!
**Warnings for mentions of child neglect and allusions of human trafficking 💀
--
Hisoka's eyes are staring at something. It is a sliced baguette resting in a basket, cradled in white cloth. His stare is intense.
In his memories, he can see a woman’s hand gripping onto a loaf of bread desperately. He remembers being hungry, but knowing that not a bit of that bread would be for him.
Hisoka is sitting at a table with Illumi in a very expensive restaurant. The restaurant is at the top level of a skyscraper, and has a sweeping city view.
Illumi is talking about nothing in particular, and hasn’t noticed Hisoka’s lack of engagement. Hisoka realizes that he zoned out, lost in a very old memory. It is such a disgusting feeling to him.
“Illumi.”
Illumi pops another bite of his dinner into his mouth.
“Hm?”
“...♠”
Hisoka glances at the bread again before looking back to his date.
“How much are you worth to your parents, do you think?”
Illumi tilts his head at the odd question, but gives it some genuine thought. He rests a knuckle to his chin while he chews. After a moment of contemplating, he finally answers.
“I can’t give any exact amount, but by quick estimate, my services to the family can range from anywhere to the hundreds of billions to tens of trillions of jenny annually.”
Despite his curtled mood, Hisoka’s nose still crinkles to crush a smile off his lips. Illumi was always so literate.
“That’s not exactly what I meant. ♠” “I mean…” “When you were born, what was your value to your parents? ♣” “How much would someone have had to offer in exchange for you?”
Illumi is confused by the string of questions, but is intrigued nonetheless.
“What reason would they have to sell their child?”
Hisoka can feel his chest chill, as if icy tar is dripping inside him.
“What if your mother was hungry? If she had no money?” “You don’t think under dire circumstances, that she would trade you for a fortune?”
“Hmm…” “My mother?”
Illumi thinks specifically about her.
“No. I don’t believe that she would need to in order to afford food or anything else.”
“Why’s that? ♠”
“Well…” “She is an assassin too, of course.” “If in a situation where she had no assets or resources, and I was an infant, she would easily be able to work a job in order to afford what she needed.”
“Ah, I see.”
Hisoka takes a sip from his drink. He can see her dirty nails clutching the small stack of jenny tight with joy. There is a feeling on his arm; the tight grip of someone’s hand, much larger than his. Tugging him. Tugging him away from her.
There was so much distress, trying to free himself and return to her. Did she even look up at him again after they gave her the money?
“So, your mother would rather murder someone else than lose her child?”
“Of course.”
Illumi answers like it is so trivial. Hisoka should have expected that of someone with an assassin’s mindset, but still…
“...”
He takes another drink, then picks up a slice of the baguette to butter. He casually takes a bite and drops the memory back into the well it came from.
“You have a good mother. ♠”
Illumi smiles slightly at the comment.
“Yes.”
Illumi continues to talk, this time about random insights regarding his family.
(“My mother worked as an assassin even before she met my father. She is just as skilled as he is, but prefers to watch over my younger brothers now…”)
#hisoillu#hisoka#illumi#mine#this FELL out of my hands a few weeks ago and then i promptly forgot about it whwhwh#HISOKA DOESNT HAVE A HAPPY LIFE ILL TELL YA#this is kikyo propaganda btw /j#the zoldyck family#fanfic
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the darkest little paradise
Series Warnings: Mafia!AU. Language, drugs, alcohol, death, violence, smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Banner Credit @thedroneranger
Masterlist Next Part
...........................................
Prologue: The Auction
It had been sixteen years since you'd been home. Sixteen years since you made the biggest mistake of your life and your father shipped you off to boarding school in Italy.
You'd learned a lot in those sixteen years. You redeemed yourself in your father's eyes and helped grow the family business. You were certain that he was going to give you back your birthright and make you his successor once again. Something you had lost that faithful night.
But before he could, he died, tragically, suddenly—suspiciously.
You were sure it was at the hands of your younger brother. He'd always been jealous of you. You were positive that he set you up all those years ago and convinced your father that he would be a better heir to the empire.
You knew that he killed your father to keep him from handing you the business.
You just had to prove it.
You hated being back in the States. But your brother forced you to come back by having your assets frozen. It was wither come home, sell your body, or starve. Honestly, the last two options don't seem so bad now.
Thankfully, you wouldn't have to face him today. Instead, you were making an appearance in his honor at a charity auction at your country club. It was a masked bachelor's auction. Feral men and women with more money than they had sense would bid on attractive men from the community like they were prized cattle. To make it more anonymous, everyone masks. It added to the appeal.
You knew that these auction weren't supposed to end in an R-rated way, but you knew more often than not, they did. That's exactly what you were hoping for.
Your brother was supposed to be one of the bachelors tonight, but he was called away on "business." His right hand and second in command would be stepping in for him. You planned on spending whatever amount it took to take him home with you tonight.
Your brother would kill you if he knew what you were planning, but you didn't care. This was all a part of the long game that you were playing.
You reached into your clutch purse and took our mirror, and checked your reflection. Your red lipstick was still perfect. The silvery- grey mask your wore looked flawless and complimented your outfit well.
You were dressed in your signature color— sapphire blue. The liquid silk gown you had chosen flowed over your body and hugged your neck with a beautiful halter neckline. You had platinum and pearl and sapphire earrings dangling from your lobes.
Your mother's well loved sapphire and diamond ring was snug on your right hand, where it had lived ever since she passed.
Your driver turned into the country club and made his way up the long driveway before pulling up to the front doors where an actual red carpet had been rolled out. You rolled tour eyes at the spectacle that was being made. Sure, the theme of the evening was "Hollywood Glamour," but this felt like a bit much.
Nevertheless, you put your mirror away and grabbed the snow-white fur stole from the seat beside you and draped it between your elbows. It was the same color as the fine powder that you finally was infamous for.
Your father always told people he made his money through a hedge fund, but really, your family fortunate came from the drug trade, cocaine to be specific.
While you personally didn't participate in the use of your family product, you could sell the hell out of it. You introduced it to the upper crust circle of Europe and expanded business ten-fold for your father.
And as much as you wish you could say your family's real business was a secret, you knew it wasn't. Your father had every politician and lawman in his back pocket. You could get away with anything because of who you were.
You sat patiently as you waited for your car door to be opened. Soon, Raphael, your driver opened the door and extended his hand for you. "Remember, pick me up at seven tomorrow morning." You reminded him.
Raphael nodded his head before a tuxedo clad man escorted you to your seat. "Can I get you a drink, ma'am?" He asked you as you settled into your table at the back of the room, away from everyone else.
"Gin martini, chilled glass, lemon twist." You told him without looking up. He quickly scurried away as one of the organizers from the club brought you your auction paddle.
"Good evening, Miss Sapphire." A voice call to you. "Donny." You said as your personal security guard came and took a seat beside you. A black leather breif case tucked under his arm.
"Do you have it?" You asked him as your martini was set down in front of you. "Yes, ma'am." Donny replied. "Good." You said as you took a sip of your drink.
...............
The auction was just as you had predicted. Women and their perfectly manicured nails and men with their expensive cufflinks zealously bidded, all in the name of charity of course.
You bided your time, sipping your martini, waiting for him to come up.
Finally, the emcee announced him. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've saved the best for last, so get your paddles and your checkbooks ready for bachelor lucky number thirteen, or as we like to call him, Rooster!"
A roar of applause went up as he took the stage. And why wouldn't it? Rooster was handsome in his blue suit that he had paired with a red and blue statement dress shirt. The first few buttons were undone, giving the people a peak and the tone, tanned skin underneath. He had a matching blue mask across his eyes, and a pair of Italian leather loafers on his feet. You could see the glint of the Montblanc watch sticking out from under the sleeve of suit, and the thick gold ring he wore on his pinky.
You had to admit, he looked good. Gone was the scrawny half grown kid you remembered your father taking all those years ago. Just be he shipped you off.
He had been replaced by a man, tall, handsome, and brawny with years of heartache behind his eyes.
"Let's start the bidding for a date with the handsome Rooster at twenty-five thousand dollars." The emcee said.
Paddles immediately went up. You signaled for Donny to raise yours. The bidding climbed higher and higher, passing one hundred thousand. "Jump the bid to a quarter of a million." You told Donny. It was a strategy you had learned from your father, jumping the bid normally deterred the competition.
"Are you sure?" Donny asked you. "Yes." You told him.
"Two-hundred fifty thousand." Donny said as he raised your paddled. There was a gasp followed by murrmers from the crowd. The emcee continued with fewer participants. You growled in frustration as the amount climbed higher you continued to bid, having Donny jump it again to half a million. You thought for sure that would win, but a brunette at the front of the room countered your bid.
You were locked in a bidding war with her. It was a battle to see who would give first. Finally, you told Donny, "One million. Bid it. Now."
"Ma'am, I—" Donny stuttered. You shot him a deadly glare. He swallowed before lifting your paddled and loudly proclaiming your bid. The room went silent. "Wow, one million dollars. Do I hear one point one million?" The emcee asked. The brunette shook her head.
"Okay, one million going once, twice. Sold to bidder number six one six." The emcee said as he announced the end of the auction and next steps. You quickly took the brief case from Donny before giving him a hotel key card and a set of instructions to give to Rooster.
You then went to pay your debt. The country club treasurer was quite shocked when you presented her with the million dollars in cash, but was thankful for your "donation." Once your debt was clear, Donny drove you to the Four Seasons. He has an idea of what you had planned, but he knew better than to say anything.
Once there, you made your way in the back entrance and up to your penthouse suite and waited for Rooster.
Room service already had champagne, caviar, and a full bar cart stocked for you.
Thirty minutes after your arrival, Rooster entered the living area of the suite.
"Hello there, Rooster. Can I get you a drink?" You asked him as he made his way into the room. His eyes flitted about, taking in every detail.
"Cognac. If you have it." He said hesitantly. You poured a glass for the both of you before gesturing for him to sit. You stood across from him, watching as he took the drink from you and took a long sip.
You couldn't get a full read on him, but the way his eyes were roaming over your body, you knew you'd be able to seduce him.
You took a seat across from him. Neither of you spoke.
"So— what did you have in mind for the evening?" He asked you. You knew that Bradley was smart enough to know what you had planned.
You didn't answer him. Instead, you stood up and unhooked the top of your dress and pulled the side zipper down. The garment pooled at your feet, revealing the lingerie you had on underneath.
You then sat back down in your chair and kicked your shoes up on the table. The red soles matched your lipstick.
You took another sip of your drink as Rooster sighed and raked his hands through his sandy blonde curls.
"This isn't that kind of date, ma'am." Rooster protested.
You leaned back into the chair and brought the crystal glass of cognac to your lips. He watched you, tentatively as you sipped the rich liquid.
"Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I paid a million dollars for a small slice of your time, sir. That's quite a bit of money. More than you're worth. So, this evening is what I say it is, Mr. Bradshaw." You smirk back at him. You tilt your head to the side as if to dare him to challenge you.
"How do you know my name?" He asks you.
"I'm a very powerful woman, Bradley. I belong to a very powerful family. It's my business to know everyone I associate myself with." You tell him.
He stands up and moves closer to you. You give him a wink.
His feet stay rooted in place as he looks you over. He devoured every inch of the sapphire blue lingerie that you were clad in. You could tell he appreciated the way the bustier hugged your breasts and how he was enticed by the bows tied atop the garters you wore.
"Well, Miss—" He trailed off, still not knowing your name.
"Sapphire. You can call me Sapphire." You filled in the blank for him.
"Well, Sapphire, what exactly did you have in mind?" Bradley asked you with a teasing smirk.
"I want you to take off that Armani suit and show me why they call you Rooster." You replied with no hesitation in your voice.
Bradley chuckled as he reached for his cufflinks. He dropped them, and his watch unceremoniously onto the table before sliding off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. He twisted his pinky ring a few times before giving you a devilish grin.
Your lips curled as you sat up straighter.
He stalked over to you before planting a hand on each arm of your chair. That's when you knew you had him.
Perfect.
Everything was going according to plan.
Taglist: @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @lillyrosenight @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @princess76179 @schoollover @cheyrenee @angelbabyyy99
#cherrycola27#top gun maverick#top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#rooster top gun#tgm#lt. bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw smut#rooster smut#top gun rooster#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#top gun smut#top gun 2#the darkest little paradise
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18+ Only
Summary: Bucky hates you. Until he doesn't.
Warnings: enemies to lovers, mommy kink, sub Bucky, dom reader, oral sex (m and f), teasing, begging not cum, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, leather cuffs, color system
AN: My Valentine's Day fic this year also serves as my entry for @the-slumberparty week one I Spy challenge! I used the diamond necklace and leather cuffs. Also, this fic fills the enemies to lovers space (G3) on my @allcapsbingo bingo card!
Bucky had always hated you. Ever since you walked into the compound, showing off and flaunting all your assets. You were a good fighter; you didn't need to shove it in everyone's faces all the time. Every time he walked past the gym and saw you sitting on Sam's chest, pinning him down again, an ugly emotion coursed through Bucky. Your triumphant smile made him want to rip you off of Sam and show you a taste of your own medicine. But he always kept walking, doing his best to ignore you.
He didn't think it was possible to hate you even more. But once again, you proved him wrong in that department. You were late. Very late. Bucky paced around the loft he had been living in undercover. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, his hair slicked back, perfectly in place. The mission called for him to pose as an art collector–with deep pockets and dark habits. He had been alone here for a month, slowly gaining the trust of the key players, and tonight was the night he was finally going to get the critical piece of information he needed. But there had been a hiccup. His mark, Zakaria Tate, had invited him to dinner. Not just any dinner, a Valentine's dinner. Date required. Bucky had begged Sam to send Yelena; her no-nonsense attitude would have made this super easy, but he declined. Bucky would have preferred that Sam himself joined him tonight over you. But Sam simply laughed and told him to suck it up. You were the only choice.
Bucky rechecked his watch just as you burst through his front door, again proving him wrong. Because he hated you even more in the crimson dress that hung to you like it was your skin.
"Don’t say it, Barnes. I know.” You pushed past him, heading toward the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of wine.
“You’re late,” Bucky said through grit teeth. He stalked over to you and ripped the glass from your hand.
You rolled your eyes, taking a long pull from the wine bottle instead. “It’s not my fault. This ridiculous lingerie took way too much work to get into.”
Bucky tensed, his eyes immediately moving from your face to scan your body. “Wh–why would you–”
You shrugged, picking up the gift box you had walked in with. “It helps sell the part. If we were really dating. And you were really taking me out for Valentine’s. And you were really giving me that gift over there.” You paused to point at the jewelry box Bucky had waiting by the front door. “Then I would really fuck you stupid at the end of the night.”
You smiled at him as you walked past, stroking his arm lightly with your hand.
Bucky swallowed thickly, turning to watch the sway of your ass. He hated how easily you made him feel like this. Like he would drop to his knees and do whatever you asked of him just for a taste.
**
To Bucky’s surprise, the dinner was going well. Zakaria loved you. That wasn’t surprising; everyone loved you except for him. But the character he was playing did–he needed to act the part. He swallowed his stubbornness and inched closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You smiled at him before placing a kiss on his cheek.
“Oh, there he is, my loving boyfriend. Thought you forgot you’re supposed to want to touch me.”
“Sorry, I’m not that good of an actor,” Bucky muttered.
You ignored him and turned back to the conversation at the table. Despite his snarky comeback, Bucky couldn’t help the shiver that went through him in response to your touch. Your voice low in his ear was something he could get used to.
Fuck.
No.
But his body was already reacting, squeezing your hip to pull you closer. You nuzzled into his side and placed your hand on his big thigh.
Bucky took a deep inhale; he could do this. He knew what you were doing and would not let you ruffle him.
But as soon as he relaxed, your thumb began slowly stroking his thigh. It was innocent–if he didn’t know you better. He gave you a sharp warning, but you wouldn’t look at him. Such a simple movement should not have had him turning to breathing exercises to keep himself from begging you to touch him more.
As if you could read his thoughts, your hand glided down to his knee and back, and again and again. It was becoming more challenging for Bucky to focus on what anyone at the table was saying and even harder to keep his eyes from stealing glances down your dress. He couldn’t help it, he had the perfect view, and he wanted to know what color your lingerie was–in the dark lighting, it looked red, and his cock swelled.
Shit.
“Baby–” you giggled when Bucky finally looked up from your tits. “Zakaria wants to see what you got me.”
“Oh–of course.” Bucky shook the lust off and handed you the jewelry box. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
God, his voice sounded like he had swallowed knives.
Get it together.
Genuine surprise flashed across your face as you picked up the glittering diamond necklace. Everyone at the table gasped in awe. That was the reaction Bucky had hoped for.
“Go on, put it on her.” Zakaria urged.
Bucky blushed as you turned your back to him and swept your hair out of the way. His hand was shaking as he drew the necklace around your neck; his fingers left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Once he got it clasped, you turned to him and stuck your chest out. “How does it look?”
Bucky’s mouth watered as he looked at the diamonds glittering against your skin. The necklace dipped into your cleavage, and Bucky could see your nipples pebbled through the thin fabric of your dress. He hated how hard you made his cock. Hated that you would never do anything about it. Hated that he was always destined to imagine you fucking him while he stroked his cock alone.
Zakaria laughed, “I think our friend may be ready to leave our company.”
Fuck, was he being that transparent?
“Not before dessert,” you said, smiling mischievously.
Bucky wasn’t prepared for your lips to collide with his. You did it so fast; he wasn’t sure what had happened. By the time his brain caught up and he registered the soft warmth of your lips, you were already pulling back to whisper in his ear.
“If I liked you, Barnes–” you sighed longingly, the heat of your breath tickling his ear.
Bucky stared at you wide-eyed and begged silently for you to finish your thought. He needed it–for later.
The entire time you ate your dessert, Bucky could only think about what you had left unsaid. What would you do if you liked him? What did you want to do to him?
You threw back the last of your drink and suddenly flopped into Bucky’s lap–pretending to be the love-drunk girlfriend you were playing. You giggled, and Bucky helped you sit up; you used his leverage to scoot yourself into his lap. Bucky froze as your eyes snapped to his when your ass felt his sizeable bulge.
“Oh, you fucking wish,” you whispered against his lips, that glint that Bucky hated so much in your eyes.
Your smile looked predatory, and as hard as Bucky tried to find the hate inside himself that would allow him to push you off or at least come back with a witty response, all he could do was swallow down a whimper.
Your smile grew, and you pushed your chest against him while your fingers ran through his hair. “Is this–” you circled your hips to emphasize what you were referencing, “why you hate me so much? You just wanna fuck me?”
“Stop,” Bucky begged quietly; his grip on your waist tightened, but you kept squirming.
“Be a good boy, and I’ll go easy on you the rest of the night.”
Bucky couldn’t help himself, his hips pushed up against you, and he cursed under his breath. Your eyes darkened, and Bucky knew he had indeed given himself away now. Usually, a comment like that would have gotten you a death glare and probably an ugly name thrown your way. But it had all been a mask, all of it. Because he wanted this. Too much.
Suddenly you stood up. “We’re leaving. Thank you so much, Zakaria. It was lovely.”
You hauled Bucky to his feet, and the protest Zakaria had started to give died on her tongue when she saw the obvious reason for his quick exit.
“Have fun, you two; don’t be strangers.”
Bucky didn’t even care that he had got nothing out of this dinner other than a raging hard-on. He couldn’t think past how your hips moved as you marched out of the restaurant. You didn’t stop once you were outside, and Bucky worried that he had completely fucked this up and made a jackass of himself.
“Wait! Where are you going?!” Bucky jogged to catch up to you.
“Back to the loft. Can’t talk here.”
Bucky kept his mouth shut and followed you. Maybe you had noticed something he didn’t–since you were actually working the mission instead of acting like a horny teenager. As he followed you, he replayed the night, searching for something he missed, but all he could remember was you. He didn’t even realize you were back in the loft until you slammed the door shut and pushed him up against it.
“What the fuck, Barnes?”
“Wh–what?” Bucky tried not to rut his hips against you but failed when your grip on his wrists tightened.
“This whole time? I thought you hated me–”
“I do,” Bucky groaned. “Hate that I can’t have you.”
Your brows furrowed. “So you just decided to be a dick?”
“Had to,” Bucky said breathlessly. “If I didn’t pretend that you make me so unbearably horny, I would have begged you to fuck me every goddamn mission.”
Bucky’s face fell into a pout when you let him go and took a few steps back. You were gonna leave. Probably laugh in his face first and then leave him like this, hard and desperate.
“So do it. Beg.” You stuck out your hip and crossed your arms to emphasize your breasts.
Bucky stood stunned for a moment, still not sure if you were being serious.
You sighed, irritated, and started to move toward the exit. Bucky immediately dropped to his knees. He wasn’t going to let you go that easily.
“Please.”
Bucky licked his lips nervously, not really sure what else to say. Your brow rose, unimpressed and expecting more.
“I’m sorry, please; I want you so bad.”
“What do you want from me, baby boy?”
Bucky finally looked up at you, and the view made him groan. This is how he wanted to be all the time, on his knees, looking up at you. He needed to answer you before you got mad, but he didn't know what to ask for first; he wanted everything.
“Want you to fuck me,” Bucky hated how needy he sounded, but he couldn’t help it.
You smiled and stepped forward, tipping his head back. “I’ll think about it.”
Panic was evident on Bucky’s face, he knew it, but all you did was laugh before lifting your leg and placing it over his shoulder.
“See if you can earn it.”
Oh god.
With a trembling hand, Bucky slid your short dress up your thighs slowly, mentally preparing himself for the sight of your coveted cunt. Nothing could have prepared him, and as soon as he saw your crotchless red panties, he whimpered and gripped your thigh harder.
“Can I use my mouth?” He asked, eyes wide with hope.
“Of course, you can, baby.”
“Thank you, mommy,” Bucky stuck his head under your dress before he could see the shock and pleasure on your face.
The sting in his scalp spurred him on as your grip tightened and you pressed him closer to your heat. His tongue moved urgently, and every time you made a pleasured noise, he moaned against your clit.
“I’m close, baby, don’t stop,” your breathy sigh spurred Bucky to slide his hands up your thighs and grip your hips. He pulled you even closer, sliding his warm tongue into you over and over.
“Fuck yes, baby boy, fuck me, fuck me.” Your hips moved frantically, using his nose to stimulate your clit.
Bucky could have cried; this was fucking bliss. He quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down, desperate to stroke himself in time with his tongue.
“I didn’t say you could touch your cock,” you said breathlessly, and Bucky whimpered. He was desperate for some kind of relief, but he was afraid to disobey you. Instead, he moved his hand out of his pants and gripped your ass hard, fucking you even deeper with his tongue. He didn’t stop until you came so hard he had to hold you up so you wouldn’t fall.
Bucky tried to remain patient while you lowered your leg and patted his head condescendingly. He was still afraid you would leave at any moment.
“That was good, baby.”
Bucky blushed, looking up at you hopefully. His hands were clenched at his sides to keep from touching himself.
“Go to the bedroom and take all your clothes off.”
Bucky scrambled to his feet, ignoring your chuckle as he raced to the bedroom, peeling his clothes off.
Thankfully, you didn’t make him wait long; you walked into the room and only paused momentarily to check him out.
“Help me out of this dress, baby.”
Bucky slid the zipper of your dress down quickly, almost breaking it. The silk puddled at your feet, and Bucky growled, low and deep, at the sight of you before him. You moved away too soon for his liking, directing him to lie on the bed.
“You never opened my gift.”
Bucky held his breath as you crawled over him. You sat on his chest and opened the gift for him. Bucky’s eyes went wide as he looked at the black leather cuffs inside.
“Originally, I bought them as a joke. But…”
“Yes. Please.” Bucky held his wrists out to you excitedly.
“You know the colors?”
When Bucky nodded, you kissed his wrists before placing the cuffs on him.
“This is gonna be fun,” you smiled wickedly at him before sitting back so you could unhook your bra. You removed it slowly, enjoying Bucky’s gaze and how he worried his lip every time you almost removed it completely.
“Mommy, please!” He finally whined, and you threw the bra to the floor.
Bucky reached his cuffed hands out, but you moved out of his reach. “Should have thought about that before you said yes, baby boy.”
You grabbed his joined wrists and lifted them over his head, putting your breasts in reach of his hungry mouth.
It was hard, but Bucky resisted, thrusting his hips in the air as he groaned. “Please, can I?”
God, his lips practically brushed against your nipple as he spoke.
“Can you what?” You teased.
Bucky squirmed, frustrated, and unable to think with all his blood now in his swollen, ignored cock. “Tits. Want–” Bucky groaned as you lowered yourself even more. “Wanna suck your tits,” he rushed out in one breath.
“Go ahead, baby.”
Bucky’s tongue flicked over your nipple quickly before he sucked it into his mouth. His hips pistoned into the air as he sucked. He moved to the next one, giving it the same treatment.
“Is there something else you need from me, baby?”
Bucky whined, your breast still in his mouth and his eyes watery.
You sat up and ran your finger over his pouting lips. “What else do you need, baby? Use your words.”
“Need–” Bucky’s breath caught as he looked at you, naked except for the diamond necklace around your neck and nuzzled between your breasts. “Need you to touch me.”
“Come on, you can do better than that.”
Bucky frowned, a confused look on his face.
“I know you’ve got filthy, dirty thoughts in that big cyborg brain of yours. Come on.”
“Oh god, I–” Bucky closed his eyes, trying to find some confidence. “I need you to touch my cock. Put it in your tight pussy and come all over me. Need you to make me come, mommy, wanna come inside you, fuck.”
“That’s better, baby.” You kissed his chest, slowly dragging your lips down until you reached his throbbing cock.
You didn’t show it, but you were just as wound up as he was. It would be so satisfying to slide him inside you now. Fuck him fast and frantic until you both came way too quickly. Maybe next time. For now, you needed to make him work for it. And maybe pay him back for being such a dick to you. You let your saliva dribble over the crown of his cock and stroked him lightly to spread it. He was already so wound up that simple action had him thrusting off the bed.
You couldn’t resist pushing him further, sucking on his tip while your hand moved faster, and you rolled his balls gently.
“Oh fuck! Yes! God, don’t stop!”
You didn’t, only removing your mouth long enough to ask him if he wanted to come. A resounding yes made you chuckle. Poor boy.
“Do you wanna come, or do you wanna stick your fat cock in my little pussy?”
You didn’t give him time to think as your mouth wrapped around his tip again, and his mind went blank.
“Bucky, I asked you a question.”
“Both?” He tried but knew it was pointless.
“Choose, or I’ll choose for you.”
Bucky hesitated, your mouth felt so fucking good, and he had imagined coming down your throat so many times. He was already so close it would only take a few more strokes, and he’d be there.
He groaned, sagging against the bed. “Want your pussy.”
But you didn’t stop; you took him deeper in your mouth and sucked hard.
“Want your pussy!” Bucky gasped as suddenly he was in your throat, and you were swallowing around him.
Was this a test? He didn’t think he was going to pass. His balls were heavy with need, and your tongue was coaxing him to the brink faster and faster.
“Please, mommy! I’m gonna come! Please stop,” Bucky gasped, hands clenched tightly as he fought the oncoming orgasm. “Oh,” he drew the word out long and needy. “Please, I’ll come; stop, please.” He was so close now he could almost taste the pleasure.
That was when you stopped, pulling your mouth off of him slowly and giving his crown one more good lick.
“You did so good, baby boy.” You straddled him, running your wet pussy over his dick before pushing his tip inside. “Let’s see how long you last inside me.”
Bucky’s mind went blank as you slid down his length. You looked so perfect, perched on his cock with nothing but diamonds on your sexy body. He couldn’t breathe.
Your ass met his thick thighs, and Bucky groaned. “So–good,” he sounded drunk.
“Don’t come.”
That was the only warning he got before your hands found his thighs, and you began fucking yourself on his throbbing cock.
“You’re so big, baby. I’m gonna come so hard.” You threw your head back, working your hips even faster.
Bucky tasted blood in his mouth; he was biting his tongue, trying his best to keep from filling you up.
Your hand drifted down your body, and Bucky had to close his eyes when you started rubbing your clit.
“Mommy, I–I’m gonna come, please.”
“You’re not allowed.”
“But–” Bucky groaned as you moved your hands to his chest and fucked him faster.
“This is what you asked for, baby boy. You wanted to be balls deep inside me. Wanted me to fuck you.”
Bucky couldn’t argue. So he squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to hold back. Even as you came, moaning his name and squeezing his cock like a vice, he didn’t come.
A tear ran down his cheek as you came down from your high.
“Look at me, pretty boy.” You leaned forward and wiped the tear from his cheek. “You were so good for me.”
Bucky sniffled as your lips brushed against his. “I’m sorry I was a jerk.”
“Oh, Bucky,” you cupped his cheek and looked him in the eye. “I always liked you too. Only you. I’m sorry I was a pain in the ass.”
You kissed him then, slow and deep. Bucky felt bad, but he broke out of the cuffs and gently moved you to lay on your back. He held your face as he kissed you back, stroking your tongue with his and holding you close. His cock throbbed angrily inside you, but you hadn’t given him permission to move.
Your hand moved from his hair to his ass, grabbing it tightly. “Fuck me, Bucky.”
Bucky’s hips punched forward. “I–I can’t. I’ll come.”
He looked so disappointed.
“I believe in you. Fuck me.” You spread your legs wide for him, and he dropped his forehead to rest on yours.
“I hate you.” But you both knew now that he didn’t mean it.
He kept you close while he moved his hips slowly, building up speed and keeping his thrusts as deep as he could.
“Don’t stop,” you groaned when he started to slow down.
“Gonna come,” he mumbled against your lips.
“Haven’t earned it,” you huffed back. “Fuck me. Hard.”
Gathering the little self-control Bucky had left, he lifted himself onto his knees and grabbed your hips, pistoning into you as hard as he could manage.
He shouldn’t have, but his hand reached out to squeeze one of your bouncing breasts.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, gotta stop.”
You ignored him, arching your back and pushing your chest out. Bucky growled, quickly descending on your breasts with his mouth. Sucking one while he squeezed the other. His hips moved frantically, losing his rhythm.
“Please, mommy, can I stop?” His voice was muffled against your chest.
Your response was to wrap your legs around his waist tightly. He groaned, trying to think about something other than how wet and warm you were around him. You didn’t make it easy.
“Fuck my little pussy, yeah, fuck, fuck, baby, mommy’s coming.”
Your walls spasmed around him, and Bucky’s hot tears fell onto your chest as he held on for dear life, silently begging to stop before he spilled his seed inside you.
“Come, baby,” you said through deep breaths as your high faded.
Bucky barely managed to ask where before he was pounding into you. When you said, “inside, come in my pussy.” Bucky’s hands moved to your ass, gripping it tight as he fucked into your warm, tight cunt frantically as if he was afraid you’d change your mind.
“Thank you, thank you, mommy, pussy feels so good,” he whined, grinding deeper as his orgasm overtook him. He froze for a moment, gasping and groaning against your neck as he came harder than he ever had before. But soon, he was slowly fucking his come deeper into you, whispering praises against the column of your throat.
Your hand ran through his hair, and he nuzzled deeper.
“If I had known the serum kept you hard after orgasm, I would have let you come sooner.”
“Fuck you,” Bucky groaned, punching his hips forward to make you gasp.
“You liked it,” you giggled.
“Fucking loved it, never wanna leave your pussy.”
“Keep fucking me like that and calling me your mommy, and I’ll let you fuck me as much as you want.”
“Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me,” Bucky whispered incredulously before moving you up the bed to start round two.
#navy and roo sleepover#allcapsbingo2023#bucky barnes smut#subby!bucky#enemies to lovers#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x poc!reader#the sleepover week one#bucky barnes#tfatws#sebastian stan#bucky smut
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Thomas King and Monty Finch (Actor/Accidental Pretty Woman AU: Chapter 5)
Thomas isn’t known for his impulse control- or at least that’s how he’s justifying it as he reaches out, because he can’t resist, and tucks a few strands Monty’s damp hair behind his ear. That finally gets him Monty’s attention, as Monty’s gaze jerks up to meet Thomas’.
“Sorry,” Monty says, and drops his phone back on the nightstand, his body already adjusting back to something more practiced, something more ready to get down to business again, and Thomas shouldn’t be feeling odd that the hooker he hired is actually moving to, you know, do his job. His expression shifts into something flirtatious as he reaches a hand to Thomas’ waist and says, “Let's get back to what we came here for.”
And sure, Monty is sexy when he’s trying to be. He knows his assets and he’s not even a little bit shy about exploiting them, which Thomas can appreciate. But god, there’s something irresistible about Monty when he’s not trying, when he’s sprawled out on Thomas’ bed like it’s his own, languid and unselfconscious. It’s jarring to see the transformation in real time, that lightning quick moment of tenderness, Monty’s hair soft and damp under Thomas’ fingers, wiped away as easily as hearts drawn in fogged-up car windows.
God, it’s a stupid, dangerous thing, caring this much about the guy you're literally paying to get off with you. There is something heavy pressing against the inside of Thomas’ ribs, a feeling he doesn’t like at all. He needs to do something to get rid of it, needs it gone, like, yesterday. And maybe that’s his excuse, for saying something as monumentally inappropriate as, “Your mother- does she, like, need money for her hospital bills?”
Monty's expression shutters and fuck, Thomas can't help but mourn the loss of Monty from a moment ago, loose and relaxed and at ease. “Not that it's any of your fucking business, Mr. Hollywood-Star-Up-Your-Fucking-Ass, but no, she has plenty of money to take care of herself.”
-aletterinthenameofsanity, anything_thats_rock_and_roll, people think i'm pretty (i'll sell my pride instead)
Bedsheets, no clothes
Touch me like nobody else does
Lovely to just lay here with you
You're kinda cute, and I would say all of this
But I don't wanna ruin the moment
Lovely to sit between comfort and chaos
But it's over
Then you're driving me home
And it feels like the start of a movie I've seen before
-Lizzy McAlpine, ceilings
And once again @anything-thats-rock-and-roll thank you for all of your help with this chapter- it would not exist without all of your help/writing/additions/edits/emotional support/etc.!
@nix-nihili @sapphic-corgi @ghostofthegallows
@icarus-n-flames @petvampire @sasakisyndrome
@idliketobeatree @cairngorm-ard @paradox-brody-chase
@saffirez @every-moment-a-different-sound
@e-payne @freudensteins-monster
#actor au#accidental pretty woman au#catcrow#crowcat#monty finch#monty the crow#thomas king#the cat king#the cat king x monty#fanfic#my fics#aletterinthenameofsanity#dead boy detectives#ao3#my edits#bird fic#BIRD KENNA COLLAB FIC Y'ALL#i'm so proud of this chapter lemme tell y'all#also lookie! my first thomas pov chapter!
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