#el diablo smut

[julia4today]

W-O-W

MORE MORE MORE PRETTY PLS

El Diablo Wears Prada (Pt.3)

Mafia boss! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Smut, Fingering, non-con oral (M! receiving), masturbation, power play, sexual tension, mild angst, Dom! Miguel.

Summary: Another toll is put on your shoulders.

Previous

A/N: Centuries later, here's part 3! Hope you like <3. Feedback much appreciated. Cooper Coen belongs to Marvel ✨

As much as you wanted to remain in Morpheus' arms and let your body rest until it reached a hundred percent, the constant buzzing of the tracking device against your ankle kept alerting you. 

The last vibration had bolted you awake with a startle. Body whined in protest at the sudden movement that took such a strong hold on your hips, the juncture of your arms and thighs. 

It took you a couple of seconds to get your bearings and see the little and borderline fancy tracking device on your ankle. It was as if a digital watch had been locked up around your smooth skin. 

A little jolt of electricity ran through your nerves in a clear sign to not mess with the device, since you had tried to remove it. If you looked closer, it had a little password lock behind, a four-digit code. 

You gotta be kidding me

How dared he putting such a thing on you? When did he put this thing on you?, but more important, was he still around? Cause if he was, he'd have a piece of your mind. 

His sweater on your skin felt a too stuffy, and you needed a bath. A couple of bruises begun appearing in your ankles and the fatty part of your thighs cause obviously he needed to make sure you understood the magnitude of your current situation and how Massimo had willingly put a target ring on your back.

The buzz however snapped you out of the spiralling trance of thoughts that assaulted your mind. Brows puckered as you made your way towards his room but as soon as you entered, anger sapped away for a moment from your head. 

The curtains were drawn shut, their dark colors provided enough darkness to isolate the brightest sunshines that tried with all their might to seep past them and take a hold of whatever thing they could reach. 

With careful steps and a petty heart you sauntered over the windows and one by one removed the curtains, letting all the sun's ablaze glory to illuminate the darkened room in a go, even if it meant for you to be blindsided for a second before you turned your back on the light and saw the results of your anger display before you. 

El Diablo, laid sprawled in his ever big and cozy bed, his right and sharp cheek smooshed against the soft and silky burgundy sheets that wrapped like a second skin on his torso and legs. One of his feet poked out from underneath, letting itself to hang outside the smooth prison. 

His gorgeous mouth laid slightly ajar, letting a little drool streak to escape him and get long dry over the sheets. The smooth locks with the little silver strands in it were also sprawled all over his forehead and the mattress. Your eyes shamelessly raked his back. Big, well worked, perfect for leaving scratches and marks. He had none of those, but a different one. 

A red lips silhouette located a few inches from his ear, half of it smeared, as if wrongly or quickly wiped, trying to cover up a trail. 

The fact he had someone before giving you a rough fuck, not only put a little familiar yet painful stab in your heart, but returned the angry thoughts that initially gave you enough courage to foray into the devil's personal hellhole.

The pain felt like an old friend now that you had seen and heard the type of man Massimo really was. You didn't want to admit that there were times you could still feel a woman's perfume on his clothes while busying yourself in the confinement of your manor, trying to distract yourself from the emerging distraught of knowing your husband was possibly cheating. 

Men

With a scowl, you took one of the many pillows and threw it at his beautiful sleeping face. 

"Wake up!" 

That quickly contorted into several emotions upon suddenly awakening. Surprise cause you had dared startle him, anger because you had the guts to interrupt his slumber and throw a pillow and finally, annoyance at your yapping. 

Your arms crossed against your chest as he placed the pillow you threw his direction on t of his head with a bored grunt. 

The smell of his perfume wafted through the air, hand in hand with a light natural musk and a dash of air freshener coming from the bathroom. 

"What the fuck is this on my ankle and why did you put that thing on me?" 

"Can you shut up?" His slouching form only turned enough to take a proper look your way once his irises had adjusted at the room's brightness. 

Wearing his oversized sweater that covered those perfect mounds of yours he didn't have enough time to squeeze properly. Face twisted in a scowl, that although he rather your scared and demure look, he had to admit this angry you made his lips smirk and a spark of excitement to run through his body. 

Your hair spooked and tussled even if you were now trying to contain it in a messy bun while ignoring the rebellious baby hairs, revealing more of your upset features.

Beautiful and angry. 

Was this the sight you gifted Massimo every day?

"I'm talking to you!" 

"¡Ya pues! Cállate... fucking heard you already." He grumbled while laying down on his back. 

But in truth he hadn't heard a single word it came from your mouth. Too deep in suddenly remembering last night's events and what had transpired back in the club. 

"Take this thing off me." 

"No." 

Miguel stretched his spine with feline grace and a satisfied smirk, letting some joints pop back into place. His spine wasn't aching anymore, he didn't feel like dragging the past few weeks' tiring load, his shoulders felt rather light, he was even in good spirits. You had spent him real good last night. 

"What is this anyway?"

You remained on the window, letting the sun warm you up a bit. The whole floor was cold anyway. Your hands grope on either side of your waist and your frown deepened upon him turning his back on you. 

"Fucking men." 

He smirked as you went to his closet. He noted you only wore the thick sweaters. You didn't rummage through his clothes and personal items like he initially thought. 

"I need to get some things back from home."

With a groan he finally rose, and sat against the bed's oak frame, his hands reached for his phone, and scrolled through his messages as his other hand slicked the messy strands that partially obscured his sight. 

"Are you even listening?!" 

"I'd rather not to."

He grumbled while his eyes remained on the screen. 

"I need to get myself some clothes. I don't wanna keep using yours for you to have me naked later." 

"You're thinking way too high of yourself, Ratoncita." He removed the silky sheets and tossed his phone somewhere in the bed, revealing his bare physique to you as he prowled your way. 

Eyes boring on your tense form. Undoubtedly he was the cat and you his ever lovely and amusing little mouse. One of his hands landed a few inches on one side of your face, but as soon as you tried to remove yourself from the equation, his other hand and a step forward of his frame closed the space, sandwiching you loosely between him and the wall. 

Even if limp, his cock felt above the sweater's fabric, right above your lower belly, ever warm and hefty. He had to lean down enough to face you, then took a half firm half gentle hold in your chin.

"If you have the energies to be mewling this early in the morning, you can take your pretty ass to the shower, clean yourself and get changed. We'll leave soon. ¿Entendido? 

"I'm not coming-" 

He squeezed your chin, igniting that spark of fury within you as he growled between teeth, "Understood?" 

His tone left no space for replies. But you slapped his hand away and retreated away from his confinement, but the petty in him needed to have the final saying. Even though words were done, he took your actions as a defiance. So he returned it, on your butt as a firm slap that smacked deliciously in the air. 

You didn't even turned to face him. Anger was too much in your mind to let it have the whole control over your emotional panel, and part of you assumed that he'd settle the score to his favor with another rough fuck.

Men. 

Your hands clenched into tight fists to finally disappear into the bathroom with a loud slam on the door. 

As much as he wanted to yell for the poor treatment on his property, he couldn't help but smirk, satisfied at your reaction. 

Part of his brain was amused to no end to see this new emotion in you. Anger made his senses tingle. But the ever rational part of his gray mass, wondered what had taken over you to be this pissed. 

Hadn't he fucked you silly last night? Cause he refused to believe he had done a poor job. 

The sudden thought of him underperforming in bed made his bushy brows to pucker in annoying concern. He'd take many insults, name calling, but someone, a woman specially saying he was bad at in bed? No. He couldn't allow it. 

He heard the shower run, and it was his cue to get his clothes ready. 

He'd go for a pair of black pants, a burgundy Prada button shirt, socks, dress shoes, no tie neither a suit, Day was too humid to be overdressed. 

The shower stopped a couple of minutes later, and he put all the things on the bed. 

You had finished a hot shower, rinsing all trace of him, wrapped your hair in a towel and pat dried your body to then wear one of his many black sweaters and slippers, the only thing you truly possessed. 

Upon seeing nothing but his toothbrush and grooming devices, you rummaged through the marbled drawers to look for a new toothbrush. You'd eventually find them next to a neatly arranged box of condoms and some gun chargers. But to your surprise the box was intact, sealed even, waiting to be used. 

With a roll if your eyes and a huff, you got to brush your teeth, a little harder than intended. 

Miguel simply entered the bathroom and slowly squeezed his way into the same space as you before the mirror, pushing you softly as you brushed your hair with your fingers. 

He looked in the mirror, the grayish hue on his cheeks increased, but he kept it. Not really feeling like grooming himself. His happy trail was on full display to you. 

If honest, it was the first time you actually paid attention to the secrets of his skin. 

A couple of scars littered his cinnamon tan and muscled skin, bullet marks? perhaps. The muscles rippled at every movement, enhancing the sight of his lower back's dimples, waist narrow and sharp, adorned with well-worked abs and sculpted thighs. There were no tattoos on his skin as he rather keep himself clean from them. 

His mere existence spoke loud and clear, he didn't need ink to prove his prowess. Plus, he considered himself too old for them. 

Gabriel on the other hand was like a walking board underneath his clothes. Or a bathroom stall's wall like he once called him. 

Your stomach grumbled loudly, and he chuckled. 

"Instead of staring, why don't you get some food? You'll need it." 

He grabbed his toothbrush and put a dollop of paste on it. Voice smooth like butter, that barely did a good job at hiding the rising mirth. But his lid twitched, vexed on your mimicking words 

"You're thinking too highly of yourself."

You pointed at his neck. 

"And make sure to properly clean yourself from others before even considering touching me." 

His smirk widened and held your wrist with enough force to make you whimper. Miguel finished washing and rinsing his mouth to then pull you by your nape and crashing his mouth on yours. 

You froze as he made you taste the fresh and cool flavor of mint in his mouth. When he pulled away, a sardonic smile plastered all over his infuriating yet beautiful face. He didn't give you time to reply as you were being pushed out the bathroom and before you could even give him again a peace of mind; he slammed the door in your face. 

"Asshole!" 

He chuckled as you yelled behind the door and finally got to shower. 

----

After a hearty breakfast and some more calls from Miguel, you and the rest got into the cars and left. 

Ben, the blond man drove the SUV again. Jessica was tailing after in her own car as another car with a lanky and pierced man lead the way. 

Buildings and skyscrapers of all sizes and colors passed you by, streets were averagely full, but Ben drove through shortcuts that approached faster towards your secret destination. 

Miguel had refused to speak after you recoiled away from his sudden urge of teasing you. He deliberately ignored you through the road, focusing occasionally on his phone screen. 

"We're here, boss." Ben mumbled after what it felt like forever. 

The little caravan had stopped before a bright red three floored building. Dark windows prevented the sunlight to seep in. The name, Casa Cisneros displayed in a Dior alike typography over the red walls. 

Your eyes widened when you saw the gorgeous, elegant and colorful clothing designs neatly arranged in the window's showcase. 

Miguel guided your surprised self deeper into the boutique. A man around his forties, white hair, shorter than Miguel, dressed up in an orange suit and a shit-eating grin came to greet Miguel. 

"Por Dios, te juro que si vienes con esa mierda de zapatos de Prada ni me molestaré en atenderte." (I swear that if you've come with those shitty Prada shoes I won't even bother in help you out.) 

Miguel chuckled while shaking his head. Then hugged the man briefly yet sincerely. 

"How have you been Mateo?" 

"¿Cómo que 'How you've been?'" His disgust couldn't hide, "Ugh. Never mind, where is Dana? Can't wait to dress her up in my new collection!." 

Your brow quirked upon the woman's name but Miguel just dismissed him with a disdainful wave of his hands and a blasé scowl. 

"Ah... Ya veo. En fín, whose the new seasonal fling?" 

Mateo, the owner, or so you supposed, fixed his eyes your way and smirked approvingly as he watched you from head to toes. 

"Nothing better and exciting than a blank canvas." he then turned to Miguel, "The same as usual?" 

The same as... what? 

You looked at Miguel and the mob lord shook his head while focusing once more in his phone 

He dialed some numbers to place the trinket in his ear, "Up to her." 

He mumbled before disappearing into another room. Mateo however grinned upon you being given a carte blanche from his best client. Cause that meant money. 

"So... What do you want?" 

"Uh... The basics I believe?" 

This earned him a giggle. 

"Preciosa. Hermosa, muñeca. Listen to me. And listen well.", He waved a warning finger at you, "Basic is not in this fashion's house vocabulary. Secondly, if Miguel brings you here is cause, he wants you to look good and not embarrass him. I know it sounds awful, but if you're with him-" 

"I'm not." Your frown deepened and Mateo just rolled his eyes. 

"Of course you aren't. Anyway, I'll give you a wardrobe. Let's go. Cooper!" 

He called and soon a tall, young and redhead man approached. His green eyes lit up upon the task ahead. 

"This is Cooper Coen, my assistant. He'll be helping us today." 

The young man greeted, and soon they began working. 

Mostly of the pieces the both picked suited perfectly on your body, every curve lavished and worshipped with utter care. But you also noticed that as beautiful as it all was, the crafts were easy to remove. As if Mateo knew the purpose behind everything he donned you with. 

Cooper kept packing and bringing clothes that not only enhanced your body shape, but made you look like a spoiled rich man's wife. Elegant, beyond gorgeous, expensive and oh so tempting and fuckable. 

Mateo seemed delighted in having you as his personal doll, trying outfit after outfit. Miguel had left to business but Jessica remained behind to look after you. 

Hours kept passing, and you moved to the undergarments. You were too focused in getting the underwear you had missed for so long that didn't hear Miguel returning. 

You wouldn't ruin him financially, sadly, but as Cooper had told you, it wasn't going to go be cheap either. And if your intuition wasn't failing, you knew something didn't add up. Not that you weren't grateful to finally have your own clothes to wear, but deep in your brain, the ever rational and alert part of it kept telling you to be wary. To not trust Miguel.

What is he hiding? 

----

Miguel had to leave for a couple of minutes to have an impromptu meeting with Peter back at the club for more Intel gathering. Apparently a clue on Massimo's whereabouts came up and he left you with Jessica. 

But upon returning and seeing the amount of packages and the count ascending past the fifty grand, he called you. 

Money wasn't an issue for him, but the amount of unnecessary shoes that you or rather Mateo had made him wonder how many pair of shoes a woman truly needed. 

Never enough apparently. 

He called you once, but Cooper showed up instead. 

"She'll be here soon, Mr. O'Hara." 

The young man nodded as Miguel huffed.  

It reminded him the too many times he took women for shopping and always ended up like this. Bored out of his mind, sometimes pissed at the constant questions they asked him. 

Do I look fat? Does this color matches my skin? 

He sighed, irked but somehow ready to ignore the flood of questions you'd annoy him with. 

Much to his dismay, minutes kept stretching impossibly longer and he had things to do and places to be at. He called you again. 

No response. 

His jaw tensed as his teeth ground together. He immediately took his phone and searched on the tracking device location. 

Signal Lost 

"Pinche mujer" He growled as he bolted gun in hand towards where you had been, Heart pounding with such an intense anger it felt like molten lava flowing through him. 1Jessica was helping Mateo, unaware of what was to unfold. 

Heavy and livid steps guided him towards the dressing rooms. He swung the curtain, ready to look for clues as to where you had left, only to find you, struggling with adjusting the back straps of the lingerie Cooper had handed over to you. 

"¿¡Qué no oyes cuando te hablo?! ¿'Tas pinche sorda o qué?" (Didn't you hear me when I'm talking to you?! You fucking deaf or what?!) 

His sudden outburst startled you while your frightened gaze settled on him and it quickly turned angered. 

"What the fuck?! I'm changing!" You were about to keep up with his yelling when his gun stood high and proud in the air. Silencing your babbling with an unintelligible grumble. 

"What was that?" With a scowl he glowered your way. Your tongue clicked, ignoring him. 

His eyes couldn't help but rake your body for some brief seconds to finally settling on the tracking device. The thing was off. 

"What did you do to it?!" He growled while pushing you against the mirror and kneeled to grab your ankle and see with his own eyes why the device wasn't working. 

Updating 40% 

Of course the damned thing would be updating. His nostrils flared angrily as you yanked your limb away from his grasp.

"Hurry the fuck up, I don't have all day."

He let you go and headed towards the entrance. 

"Che palle! Lasciami in pace un attimo, stronzo!" (How annoying! Leave me alone for a second, you asshole!) 

And oh his head turned in many dangerous and dark thoughts. It wasn't the words you used, he couldn't care less about them, but the fact alone you still had bits of Massimo still clinging to you. 

If honest, you only had learned some phrases in the attempt to rekindle things with your husband, it somehow worked, but this was a completely different outcome you truly weren't expecting. 

In a blink of an eye he was already before you, red eyes glowering your way, a steely grip on his gun. 

"The fuck did you say?" 

You had to recoil away, but where? He had trapped you again against the mirrors, your fear etched in every face the multiple surfaces provided and it fuelled him. 

A thick gulp rolled down your throat as his gun's tip placed underneath your chin to drag down between your breast to stop right above your heart, tapping a tad rough with it. 

"If you wanna act like a spoiled brat, fine." he seethed as he pushed you on your knees in a swift move, the sudden movement had you stumbling down, startled "I'll teach you a fucking lesson." 

His other hand immediately went to your front strands, tangling his long fingers in them, your hands immediately flew to his wrist, grunting uncomfortably at the tight grip on your skull, trying to pry yourself away from him. You could feel his anger through the little tremors his body did as he tossed the gun to the seat inside the little cubicle. 

"Let me go!" he pulled your head back, parting your lips open in the way. 

"Since you fucking love opening your pretty mouth to disrespect me," His hold tightened on your hair as his hands fumbled with the belt of his pants, sliding his free hand past the layers of clothing and pulled out his engorging cock. A few pumps of his hand around it had it twitching to life. 

"I think it's time to find a proper use for it, hmm?" Before you could even protest, his flushed tip was already invading your mouth. A hiccup escaped you while he pushed in inch by inch, earning a brief gag and gurgle from you. 

A satisfied growl escaped his smirking mouth. 

"What's wrong? Cat's fucking your tongue?" 

He stepped in closer, your nose nuzzled his happy trail as he was now holding your hair in a fistful. A sharp tinge of tears blurred your eyes for a moment as he slid down your throat. Your hands slapped his thighs while trying to push him back, earning him a breathless moan. You had tested his patience long enough for him to snap and remind you of your position. 

If he had known how easy and quick you'd learn how to get under his skin, he would've left you back with your rotten husband. 

Upon sensing you gag again, he chuckled while sliding some of his fingers underneath your chin, guiding you slowly to take him properly. 

"Fucking relax." He heaved when your mouth flattened around him to have air flowing back to your lungs. 

Fucking gorgeous. That's how you looked, staring with your pretty and angry eyes while you choked on him, set a long forgotten thrill alive that he rather keep buried for good. 

You coughed as soon as he slid out, completely hard, glistening in your saliva and beads of pre cum that connected to the corners of your flushed mouth. 

"Uh-uh. Open up, I'm not done yet." 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and coughed a couple of bits; the glare returned to your eyes. 

"Fuck you." 

Miguel huffed, crouched and took your chin to kiss you, tasting himself. You bit his lip, hard trying to get him to free you, but the growl grumbling through his chest only made your skin crawl as his tongue slid in your mouth, also invading you. 

The sheer size of his frame and the little space between sandwiched you, deliciously against him. One hand cradled your head, not giving you a truce while devouring your lips as the other one slid down between your legs. 

The sudden contact sent jolts up your spine, as he changed the cradling on your nape to a light squeeze on your neck as he pressed you against the floor, and spread your legs with his teasing hand when you trapped his hand in between your thighs, preventing him from reaching deeper. 

The motions had slowly made his cock to be trapped again in the fabric confinement. 

He earned a feeble mewl as he slid two of his fingers inside. The vibrations of your purring reverberated underneath his skin made his eager tip to twitch again 

His phone buzzed and he let your throat go for a second, but his fingers remained inside, massaging and wriggling softly within your flesh. 

"Not a peep from you, ok? This is an important call." 

Your hands immediately clenched and your thighs trembled when he moved his hand, back and forth, delving into your drenching walls. 

Heat licking at every pore of your skin. You didn't know if it was in anger or your hormones betraying you once again. The lack of sex with Massimo was costing your dignity big time. 

He's just toying with you cause he knows he can. 

Your mind reasoned, despite the rationality's grip loosening at his ministrations. 

"Ya le dije a Gabriel que procediera sin contratiempos." (I already told Gabriel to proceed without problems)

He talked and moved his hand like the most natural thing to do while in a call. 

Shame washed over your cheeks at the raunchy and sloppy wet noises your cunt made the more he probed your insides. 

"No, no-"

You hissed and his eyes went immediately on you, as if with his glare alone he'd be defying you to make a noise again. 

Your lips pursed shut as your chest heaved with ragged yet quiet breaths 

"I've got it under control." 

More than a reply to whoever he was talking to, his words were a fact. An undisputed truth that clawed at your brain the deeper he stimulated with his fingers. 

He was on control. Of you, your body and every bit that formed it, of every contraction that sucked and trapped his fingers, of every breath he made you exhale. 

His pace increased, and you choked while your body trembled at the beat of his thrusting fingers. A satisfied smirk crept up to his face, determined to break your forceful silent vow. 

He's worse than Massimo. Don't forget that. 

The hardened nub of your breast peeked underneath the flimsy fabric, swaying, demanding to be tasted. 

His initial resolution of not making a physical approach, had been long broken, ever since you insulted him in that foreign language that certainly sparked things within his mind he rarely liked to indulge thinking. 

You amused him, that was much true. But God you also made him so fucking angry. Running your mouth like you were his equal, facing him despite being scared to the core and spending his energies in such a delicious way he only sought whenever stress was eating him alive and none so far had properly known how to sate. Not even Dana. 

The only serious relationship prospect he had so far until she cheated on him and he had to get rid of her. 

But you, He didn't know if to kill you himself or fuck you 'til you were in tears. 

Your mouth parted in a pornographic 'o', gasping quietly, eyes shut, face covered in a deep shade of red, hands clenched into fists on the floor as your body swayed underneath. 

"Let me see what I can do." He crooned as his golden chain around his neck dangled with his motions.

His eyes kept glued onto your face as he slowly rubbed the rough pad of his thumb against your neglected clit in a tortuous and flickering motion. 

You bit your lip, and he smirked darkly. Slowly, he pushed in a third finger as he applied a bit more of pressure on your already sensitive and engorged nub 

Think about the condom box! 

Your toes curled in, body contorted in between gentle twitches and jerks when he grazed ever softly and teasingly at your sweet spot. A soft and barely audible gasp escaped your mouth. And his breath hitched as soon as you locked eyes with him in a glare. 

How dare he? 

He moved in and out, alternating between fucking his fingers inside and caress your bundle of nerves for enough time to edge you. 

"I know. Hmm." He nodded at whatever words Peter gave him, "You're more than capable of handling it." 

It felt like he was encouraging you through the whole process. 

He's not in control. 

One of his fingers grazed into a spot that got your hips stuttering and shaking your head as your teeth sunk deeper into the plump of your bottom lip, jaw tense but unable to trap in a garbled moan. You felt like a hypocrite. 

"Yeah, don't worry. Everything's fine." 

The way your walls increased their drenching with every contraction on his digits, had him tittering silently in twisted delight. 

At this point it was a matter of seconds to have you coming undone. He was set into making you break the rules. Your toes curled and trembled as he fastened the pace enough to have a soft squishing slap echoing just for him. 

El Diablo tilted his head as you clawed your nails on his ankle, it barely tickled him. 

"All he has to do is to agree. Offer him more money if that's the case." 

With clinical precision he stopped a few seconds before you got to come undone and trap him inside. A frustrated and shallow whine flew out your mouth. His thumb pad was now tracing the outline of your lips, to then slid two of his drenched fingers into your mouth. 

"All he has to say is yes." He moved his hand, making your head bob in a nod as he spoke. Your taste exploding into your mouth. 

With little he just retreated outside the cubicle to return a few minutes later with a plain pair of pants and a shirt. He hung the call up and sighed. 

" Now that you've learnt how to shut the fuck up, get changed. We need to go."

With trembling legs you stood, trying to catch your breath, the lingerie soiled, your thighs sticky. Heart and pussy played like a fancy tailed piano and he was the main musician. 

He fixed his clothes, despite the raging boner pulsating between his clothes. He looked at you for a moment, nose reddening, lips flushed and glossy eyes that turned aqueous the more he remained in there. 

His brows pinched softly in an imperceptible frown before leaving you alone. Not really wanting to witness your sudden discomfit. 

What had came over you? 

----

Ever since he woke up that day there were so many changes he had barely had time to adjust. But this quiet and distant you was unsettling and uncomfortable for him. 

First the need to cry after he almost gave you an orgasm, then, the silent ride back at home. 

You barely glanced his way when explaining the dress you needed to wear for the party he was also changing into. But what frustrated him the most was when he asked you to remove the ring out of your finger. The urge to cry returned on your face. 

He truly didn't understand why you still clung so blindly to Massimo. At this point he thought it was love.

He huffed, disgusted. 

You wouldn't drag him to your emotional rollercoaster cause he already had his own. And there was an enough mess as it was to keep adding to his plate. 

He was proud of his detachment skills, soon you'd return to that asshole you called a husband and he wouldn't have to worry about you anymore, cause again, he was growing tired of facing other emotions that weren't the ones he could master. 

No matter how gorgeous and fuckable you looked in that backless and sequin golden dress that undoubtedly did a better job at treating your body than him. 

You had to apply some makeup to the most visible bruises around your body. Neck included. He loved squeezing it apparently. 

Miguel had removed the tracking device of your ankle to disguise it as a clock on your wrist. He looked handsome as usual. 

In truth, you looked like a celebrity. It made you wonder what kind of party you headed to, but you refused to speak to him and he was more than happy to not be bothered. 

Each sat in opposite corners in the car. Not saying a word during the ride. The only instruction he gave you was to stay close as he hugged your waist, although weakly, with his hand. 

Nostalgia was rampant on you today, and it didn't help the not so clandestine reunion harbored within a familiar milieu for you. 

A fancy club, L'Enfer, you once had the chance of visiting. Your engagement night, and returning after so many years in extremely different circumstances, tightened the knot around your throat and the need to run away to increase tenfold. 

Golden floors matched the velvet curtains that protected the black windowsills from prying eyes. The tables pristinely arranged to the left and right, ready to witness its attendee's darkest and deepest secrets. 

Servers were dressed in jet black suits and red gloves, offering the myriad of delicacies prepared for the night. 

Some men stared at Miguel, apprehension and wariness in their eyes. Others smirked and raised their champagne cups as he made his way deeper into the place. Peter walked ahead, Miguel and you followed, and Jessica tailed behind, yet his agents scattered all over the place, either as servers or valets, even bartenders. 

Miguel wore his usual frown, occasionally changing into a deadpan whenever a fan of his work approached. 

Miguel entered to a further room, more private and secluded. The smell of tobacco and expensive perfumes polluted the air, assaulting your nose at once. 

You downed the discomfort with a cup of champagne. 

"Try to not drink too much. Need you sober for the meeting." 

A meeting? 

You quirked a brow at his mumbles but nodded and remained seated near the indoor font, the least tobacco smelling place from the rest and the same place Massimo proposed. Now, you were eating the different entrees, balancing the alcohol ingest in a mob lord party, you realized too late. 

Jessica remained on your side, also eating whenever a snack she liked passed by. Peter accompanied Miguel as he greeted and exchanged a few words with the other people. 

Orborn, Kravinoff or Kraven for short, Olivia Octavius, and other men didn't ring a bell on you. 

"Let Miguel do the whole talking. In fact, act as the listener. And if Kraven calls you beautiful, don't say thanks. He'd think he can hit on you and the least Miguel needs-" 

"Is worrying for stupid shit. I know." 

The sweetness of the mini desserts and other assorted flavors didn't help to conceal the tart tasting in your mouth. Jessica quirked a brow and nodded. 

"You're adapting quick. That's good. But despite having a ten grand dress on you with matching shoes and gold in your ears, you look like you're about to cry. What the hell is wrong now?" 

Tough love was all you got from her, but it also surprised you how perceptive and unsuspecting she could be. 

"Everything."

Jessica rolled her eyes and sighed, adding another lemon curd mini tart in your plate. One you hadn't had before. 

"What in specific? Is it... That guy, your husband?"

Jessica smacked her lips with her gaze fixed on you, scrutinizing within your eyes upon your sudden silence. 

"You're really hung up on that asshole, aren't you?" 

"It's not that. And I'm not even sure about my feelings on Massimo. I want to punch him in the face for lying to me, but I also I want to know he's alright, so I can... pass page."

Your shoulders slumped as you heaved, defeated, "And Miguel is no better. It feels like they'd be secretly competing against eachother whose worse." 

Jessica grunted with a silent titter and shook her head. 

"He's blunt and an asshole, undoubtedly. Despite that, I'd stick in Miguel's side, he'll make sure you're safe in his own way." 

"Just wished he'd be less cryptic whenever I ask for answers." 

"Again, he's protecting you."

"From what? From himself?" 

"No. From the troubles your man dragged you to, honey." 

"Ugh" You rolled your eyes, the last thing you needed right now was to be reminded how awful Massimo was, "Just forget it. I feel anxious enough as it is." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I... I have a bad feeling." 

-----

You sat next to Miguel and carefully listened. The mobster's voice occasionally drowned the cutlery's tinkling out. 

Topics had varied through the night, from luxury cars and ways to armor them, weapon hiding and smuggling, to your current predicament. Massimo. 

"Kingpin is looking for him, his wife has gone MIA, which is convenient. Bitch's smart. The guy could learn a thing or two from her."

"He ratted out Delgado with the FBI. His associate! Wouldn't surprise me if he'd sell out his family to save his skin." The man called Harry Osborn spoke as he downed his whiskey. 

"Da. My associates have gathered Intel, he hasn't left the country still."

You gulped thickly the more the men spoke. If seeing with your own hands what your husband had created wasn't enough, hearing it straight from the horse's mouth only crushed your heart even further. 

"What about you, Diablo?" 

"Max owes me money." 

Many just hissed while contorting their faces disapprovingly. 

"How much?" 

"Four Million."

"Poor bastard sold his soul to you, didn't he?" Olivia Octavius mumbled between sardonic and titters. 

Miguel downed his whiskey as your hands clawed on the golden sequins of the dress. 

"What kind of fucked up woman marries a guy like that? She's desperate or corrupt as he is." 

Olivia spat and a few nodded. 

"Heard he was fooling her this whole time."

"Ahh, C'mon, Miguel. Didn't know you fell for such things." 

Miguel just shrugged, then he lit up a vanilla and cherry cigarette to blow the smoke away from you. 

"I'm giving people the benefit of doubt still. But I'll find him."

"You'll kill him?" 

"Gotta collect my reaps first." 

The men and Olivia grinned, everyone seemed pleased but you. It had been a good deal of information to swot on, so many to digest your stomach had turned queasy. 

You were about to stand up, feeling the bile and nausea rising, that registered too late the acute ring piercing through your eardrums so badly after a powerful loud bang. Unable to move, frozen in the spot. 

Everything felt in muted slow motion, some droplets of something warm and wet fell on your face, spraying you. You saw the group pulling out their guns one by one as Harry Osborn fell with a seemingly loud thud on the table. 

Why isn't he moving? 

Your heart pounded in your ears, throat constricted, and when you tried to scream nothing but a mute yell came out. A strong tanned hand pulled you down, as more loud bangs kept echoing, like distant fireworks underneath water. 

Guns were sparkling with every shot they fired, people fell on the floor, staining the golden surface with crimson as the walls around received an ugly hole-themed makeover. 

You could see Miguel grabbing your shoulders, shaking you while his mouth moved angrily as he pulled his gun away and kept you secured tightly underneath his frame. 

Chaos had broke loose. And you weren't sure you'd live up to tell. 

-----

Taglist:

@bunnibitez @gabrielarose29 @night-spectrum @katitakenway @reverieblondie @choppednerdtriumph @amelialysm @tatatida @daddysfavoritesexkitten @huniedeux @blissdoubtyattuma @rositabluemoon @freehentai @solesurvivorjen @ewan-tef @miranexx @madastrid @sukioyakio @whos-writting-stuff @spiderbunny00 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @ginger23 @bammzyboomy @mmyyhhhh @escape-your-nightmare @m4dyy @mxtokko @lauritajn @pearlescenthearts @bookshied @stevespixie @crimin4llyins4ne @6thhokageswife @arrozyfrijoles23 @mangoslushcrush @beingdeluluisthesolulu @aroyalbirb @brelikestoread @ilovereid21 @orangemango7 @luv-rei7 @4crew

@nanamiscunt @rabiebarbie @sailorlilipa @theywannabem3

@36namey @spiderpapi2099 @palesatan @homewreckingwreck

@arrozyfrijoles23 @instanttimetravelpizza @migueloharacumslut

@n3v1 @zelolinator @ewan-tef @alyeskathewave @mightyknight501

@alitaar @miranexx @the-pan-liquid @coffeeandtealol @haveclayeveryday @aizawasprimarybabymama @elliaze @tian-monique @deathlypickles @straw-berry-ghoul @rl800 @what-the-jams @6thhokageswife @thejaymaker @itsjstz @reader-1290 @kaikanther @vicravluv @anotherdisapointment @lemonpies2

[pinesfallll]

— dating stanford/stanley ! ✪

genre: soft + smut

characters: f! reader stanley pines + stanford pines (head cannons)

cw: not proofread, soft,smut, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI

STANFORD PINES soft +nsfw hcs

- Ford as your partner would be so wholesome!!

- He's not the best at relationships considering you're his first, but he'll still try his best for you

- Would write you love letters

- He needs touches/ likes being touched etc, but his is subtle and more shy when you first started dating he'd do small things like hold ur hand wrap his hand around your waist. Laying his head on your lap/ shoulders

- He likes it when you compliment him and his work

- He 100% is good at baking/cooking, tell him your favorite meal and he'll cook it/learn it

- Matching science-y aprons

- his kisses will always start slow and passionate he likes the long soft kisses.

- He cant get enough

- he would 100% want to include you in his work/ adventures but sometimes he’ll have you watch from a distance because he's scared of something happening to you.

- play with his hair…yeah.

NSFW

- he can be soft when he wants to be

- Sometimes if he's too upset with his work..you're in for a treat

- He says he likes soft but you know deep down he LOVES being rough

- he wont admit it but something about being in control of your body gets him going

- he likes catching you off guard with how rough he can be

- I don't think he'd be into degrading but he definitely would praise you

- "good girl." "thats it sweetheart almost there.", "do you like it when I touch you there?","you're so

cute like this."

- Maybe a tini bit of humiliation and teasing

- he likes it when you ride him

- Big cockwarm fanatic omg he loves it

- When you first brought it up he was kinda confused about it but when the two of you tried it he wanted you to do it 24/7

- he just likes being close to you

- your chest is his favorite, he gets flustered when he touches them like it's his first time

- Grunts, gasps, praises your name allli the time He is quiet but when he close he gets loud

STANLEY PINES soft + nsfw hcs

- Stan as your partner, is very different compared to ford

- He can be charming, and kind but on the DL

-might seem like he doesnt care but he does sooo much

-super lovey dovey when hes needy for you

-"whats a'matter princesss?" "ya miss me?" "ya know you lovee me"

-will include you in his crimes

-he wont admit it but hes a sucker for when you kiss him he always wants more

-"aw c'mon thats its?!"

-he likes to hug you from behind and bury his head in ur neck.. if he's really needy he'll do some light kisses

-his type of love is more physical then words. he wont explicitly say your the love of his life and he would do anything for you but he'll get or do something to show it.

-takes you out on rides in el diablo

NSFW

-stan is ROUGH

-very rare of him to want to do it soft

-he loves pulling your hair

- call him sir (if ykyk)

-doggy is #1

-would degrade you

-"yeah? Feelin' good yet princess?"

-facefuckingggg

-if you want to ride him one day good luck cus he wont leave you alone

-"thats all you got?" "tsk your baddd at this."

-would do multiple rounds

-he would definitely smoke his cigarettes while he fucks you

thats all folks !! send some requests if u want :)

[multi-fandom-imagine]

[Key]

-💕means it has sexual content/Implied sexual content..

-💔means it is an angst fic

-😍means it is a family fic

-💘means it is an angst fic with a happy ending.

-🚫means it contains a Trigger Warning.

-🌻means its a HC / Imagine

-➤

─ ★

•𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬•

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

-➤ Fucking Stanley in El Diablo

-➤ Face sitting with Stan

-➤ Sub Stan

-➤ Wearing something sexy for Ford & Stan.

-➤NSFW Imagine with Stan

-➤Slipping Stan your panties

-➤Stanley Gleeful fingering you { Reverse!Falls Au }

-➤Stan loving your tits and ass.

-➤I don't want anyone else

-➤Dom!Stan imagine

-➤ Taking tasteful nudes for Stan

-➤ Distracting Stan from his work.

-➤ Wearing Stan's jacket

-➤ Stan fucking you against the El Diablo

-➤ Making a porno with Stan

-➤ Stan fucking you against the counter.

-➤ Stan fucking you while smoking a cigar.

-➤ Giving Stan a hand job.

-➤ Cockwarming Stan

-➤ Period sex with Stan. || even more ||

-➤ Stan marking / biting hc

-➤ Stan's reaction to you crying during sex hc

-➤

-➤ Stan's scent in the Omegaverse.

-➤ Little Crush

-➤ You deserve love

-➤ Knitted Scarves

-➤ There goes my life. { dad!Stan }

-➤ Stan complimenting you.

-➤ Getting the twins to say daddy-🌻

-➤ Ford helps Stan stop aging faster-🌻

-➤ Stan taking the his twin girls trick or treating-{Summerween}😍

-➤ Everything Changes-😍

-➤ Kissing Stan's cheek.

-➤ Last Kiss-💔 | -🚫

-➤Stan taken care of you while sick

-➤Stan standing up for his kids-😍

-➤Gargoyle!Stan playfully chasing you. {monster!falls}

-➤Helping Young!Stan fix the portal

-➤Stan falls for a Selkie

-➤Stan takes care of you while you're on your period.

-➤Contractions

-➤Stan defending you from his father.

-➤

•𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬•

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

-➤ Face sitting with Ford

-➤ Sub Ford

-➤ Wearing something sexy for Ford and Stan.

-➤ NSFW Ford imagine.

-➤ It's just a flower { GN smut }

-➤ Ford loving your ass.

-➤ Ford fingering you

-➤ Distracting Ford from his work

-➤ Wearing Ford's sweater

-➤ Ford leaves out his journal

-➤ Ford marking / biting hc

-➤Ford's reaction to you crying during sex hc

-➤

-➤ Cuddles

-➤ Imagine Ford having a crush on you.

-➤ Holding Hand's

-➤ Naked Cuddles

-➤ Ford being nervous to hold your hand.

-➤ Waited for Ford.

-➤ First kiss and a confession.

-➤ Ford's scent in the Omegaverse.

-➤ Stanford Gleeful { Reverse!Falls Au }

-➤ Your love

-➤ Finding a kitten that's just like Ford

-➤Ford taken care of you while sick

-➤holding Ford's hand while cuddling.

-➤Ford standing up for his children.

-➤ Proposing to Ford at the same time he proposes to you.

-➤Ford taken care of you while you're on your period.

-➤Ford helps you through the birth of your children

-➤Ford defending you from his father.

[strawberrykidneystone]

Fresh Out the Slammer I Know Who My First Call Will Be

stanley pines x fem! reader

summary: stanley needs to be bailed out. again. don't worry, he'll make it up to you! he swears!

a/n: i am not immune to the gravity falls renaissance,,, all 22 fingers iykyk

tags: smut, set the week before the twins come to gravity falls, reader is late 20s-early 30s, reader wears a skirt, pussy eating, cowgirl, spanking (like twice), creampie (wrap it before your tap it)

ao3 version

y/n stood at the counter of the police department once again, her arms crossed as she had to bail stan out.

again.

how many times has she have to do this? she didn't keep track anymore, yet she would still do it every time he called.

"hey sweets..." his sheepish voice would always ring out as he called to her from the small holding cell.

blubs grumbled something about this being a weekly occurrence as stan meekly came out of the cell, knowing he was going to be in the dog house tonight. stan quickly put his signature jewelry back on and rushed out in front of y/n and held the passenger side door of El Diablo open for her, putting on his best smile as she slid into her seat, her arms still crossed.

the ride home was quiet, the windows were rolled down and stanley glanced over every so often at y/n as the wind blew through her hair. god she was so beautiful, he didn't deserve her. she was always there for him, more than his own parents, more than his own brother, and he knew that every time he messed up like this she just got closer to leaving him like everyone else. he knows better, he knows he shouldn't think like this, and she gladly reassured him every time, but times like this in the deafening silence only being broken by the erratic purr of the engine, he couldn't help but get lost in his thoughts.

this time was somewhat of a last hurrah for stanley since he had the twins coming over. he stopped smoking his usual cigars and replaced all his beer with pitt, even giving y/n a small squirt gun to spray him every time he cursed, trying to get out of the habit before the impressionable 12-year-olds arrived for the summer.

when they arrived home, stan ran around el diablo once again and opened up y/n's door. she seemed less peeved than she was when she first arrived at the station, but she still kept quiet as she stepped out and walked into the mystery shack, stan trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

y/n sat at the edge of their shared bed and looked up at stan expectantly, an aura of annoyance surrounding her. she had one leg crossed over the other and arms crossed to match. "awe doll, don't look at me like that, this was the last time i swear!"

"the kids are coming next week stan! how do i know that this was really the last time?"

"let me prove it to you sweets, i promise on my mother that my act will be together for these kids,” he said holding one hand up and placing the other over his heart like an oath.

y/n frowned a little but gave the old man a curt nod, knowing how important their stay was to him and how much he's already been preparing already.

"lemme make it up to you doll," stan purred and got down on his knees with a little bit of exertion, crawling forward on his knees and gently prying her knees apart. he looked up at her with half-lidded eyes, pressing kisses to the inside of her knees with an exaggerated "mwah" each time along with his stubble scratching against her skin.

this made y/n crack a smile and reached a hand down to run her fingers through his hair, landing on the side of his face, "and how exactly are you going to do that stanley?"

he loved hearing his name from her mouth, he grinned up at her and tugged her closer by her thighs, causing her to sequel with her back landing on the bed, "oh i might have a few ideas doll."

stan pushed her skirt up around her hips and licked his lips, already seeing a wet spot on her panties, "all this just for me baby? you spoil me."

he leaned forward and licked a stripe up the soiled fabric, mouthing at her clothed pussy and reaching his hands around to grope her ass. he nuzzled his nose against her clit, inhaling her scent deeply and hearing a whine spill out from her, "stan stop teasing."

he muttered something incoherent about patience, but judging by the bulge in his pants, he didn't want to wait much longer either. stan hooked his thumbs through the sides of her underwear and with y/n lifting her hips up, slid them off with ease. he immediately dove in like a man starved, massaging his tongue against her sensitive nub and sucking every so often. moving his mouth down, his nose nudged against her clit, encouraging her to rub herself against it as he thrusted his tongue inside of her. she took the hint and grinded her hips against his nose, moaning at the new stimulation while being partially filled up, feeling his tongue rubbing against her walls.

stan groaned and pulled back panting, her slick all over the bottom half of his face, "can't take it anymore doll, need you to ride me."

she giggled and rolled her eyes, "alright, get on the bed old man."

she turned over on all fours to crawl further up on the bed, stan taking the opportunity to give her ass a playful smack, a small squeak falling from her lips. y/n sat back on her heels and took off her shirt, along with her bra. by the time she turned around, stan was comfortably lying with his back against the headboard, completely naked with his cock standing up high.

y/n shuffled on her knees over to him and straddled his thighs, stan looking up at her light she hung all the stars in the sky causing her to blush deeply. she took his cock into her hand and rubbed the tip in between her lower lips, stan salivating as he watched his precum mix with her own arousal with his hands quickly making their way to her hips. as she finally sank down on his length, both of them let out a sigh of pleasure as her warm walls engulfed him.

she took a moment to adjust to his length, allowing his hands to wander up her waist, squeezing her breasts in his big hands and brushing his thumbs over her nipples every so often. he leaned forward and sucked on her left nipple, teething softly but careful to not bite down too hard, switching to the other a short time later. while he was showing affection to her breasts, she ran her hands over his hairy shoulders and reached towards his upper back, running her nails just hard enough to leave a mark. she gave an experimental bounce, her breath hitching as he finally bottomed out inside of her. stan unlatched from her breasts and leaned back, his gripping her ass with a shit-eating grin, "you ready to ride toots?"

she let out a breathy laugh and put her hands on his beer gut, leaning forward slightly to steady herself, "i'd be more concerned about myself if i were you."

as he was about to respond with something snarky, she lifted herself almost completely off of him before sinking back down quickly. he moaned and leaned his head back, giving her a little support with her movements with his hands. stan smacked her ass as she found a steady rhythm, feeling her squeeze around him. "that's it, that's my good girl."

stan grabbed her hips and kept her in place, thrusting up into her with his feet pushing down into the mattress, watching her breasts bounce with each movement. y/n moaned and arched her back, reaching a hand down to rub her clit for more stimulation, "yes! right there, don't stop stan!"

stan kept with the pace he was at and could feel himself getting close, gritting his teeth, "where do you want it doll?"

"inside, please!"

he nodded and reached one of his calloused hands down to rub her clit, replacing her own hand as he continued to thrust inside of her as she moved with him. with the rough texture of his hand, y/n opened her mouth in a silent scream as she reached her peak with stan not far behind as he released his seed inside of her.

the two sat in a comfortable silence, only their heavy breathing filling the room. y/n looked down at him and smiled sleepily, affectionately tapping his chest, "good job keeping up oldie."

he snorted and put his hand behind his head, "'m sorry doll, it was one last hurrah. am i forgiven?"

y/n pretended to think and tapped her chin with her index finger, "hmm i don't know... yes of course, I'll always be there to bail you out stan, you know that."

a soft smile rested on his face as he took the hand on his chest, kissing each fingertip, "i know you will doll, and I'm damn lucky to have you."

she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, grinning like a cheshire cat suddenly, "i took your bail money from your buried cash box."

"you WHAT-"

a/n: ty for reading!!! also it's my fanfic and i'll write as many run on sentences as i want!!!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Miguel being cockwarmed?

Asdhepnfonelnlfbleb I LOVE YOU???

A Lesson Earned is A Lesson Learned

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: SMUT, NSFW, teasing, cockwarming, dirty talk, Miguel's big ass hands

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You loved your boyfriend, more than anybody else you've ever been romantically involved with.

Whatever you would give him, he would give back tenfold. Yeah, it was a bit suffocating at times, but you knew it was only because he was afraid of losing you like he'd lost his daughter.

He'd spoil you when you let him, but sometimes you simply had to tell him you weren't a material kinda girl. Physical affection, sweet words, and cuddles were what satisfied you most.

That and... Well. His hands. You'd be lying if having your shoulders or back or whatever part of you he wanted in his gigantic hands, kneading and rolling you into utter bliss didn't get you going.

And just one of his fingers was thick enough to stretch you better than some of your toys did. And yeah, sometimes you needed toys for relief when he worked so much.

His work with Alchemax and running the Spider Society left him quite busy. You weren't hurt by this, but it did make you feel lonely and rather... uppity.

So of course when he was home you paid him back in kind, teasing him relentlessly.

You would wear next to nothing, sexy lingerie, or maybe one of his gigantic tops that you were practically swimming in, not bothering with any panties beneath.

You knew full well with his super senses, that he could smell your arousal, especially if the tent in his pants were anything to go by.

But, he stayed glued to his monitors in his office, ignoring his erection and the sweet intoxicating smell of your slick all through his house. His sense of duty was strong, focused.

It aggravated you to no end.

So, with your cheek puffed out in irritation, you marched into his office, dimly lit save for the projections of his monitors as he scoured Alchemax work and reports from the other Spiders back at HQ.

"Miggy..." You sigh, coming up next to him in his chair.

"Hm?" He said, not looking at you.

But you can tell by how his nostrils flared and his pupils dilated that your scent was starting to get to him.

His gorgeous, chiseled jaw clenched almost imperceptibly as he swiped and pinched up another monitor.

You pouted and slipped your arm around his shoulder, sitting on the arm of his chair, knowing full well your sweet sweet nectar was coating the expensive leather; the scent would linger for a while, until he completely cleaned it and sterilized it.

You placed kisses up to his ear, then back down to where his suit collar ended, just beneath his pulse.

"Muñeca..." Miguel warned. "I'm working."

"I know, but I think you're working too hard." You sigh in his ear, taking his lobe between your lips and running your tongue along the edge.

He hissed at you. "Cállate, mujer diablo, estoy haciendo algo importante."

You frowned and ignored his warning. Instead, you leaned in, your breasts squishing against the heavy muscle of his bicep, and reached down, stroking the outline of his cock that was straining his suit with your small hand.

"C'mon, Miggy. You're a workaholic." You coo playfully. "Just let me..."

He gripped your wrist when your hand went to his watch to disable his suit.

His eyes were sharp, annoyed. It sent a thrum of fear through your bloodstream as he curled his lip back, revealing his crooked, fanged teeth as he sneered at you.

"You want to annoy me? Fine." He reached out and gripped your hair, pulling your head back sharply, before his breath was hot in your ear.

"Pero recuerda que yo tengo el control."

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You should have known.

God, but you never learn, do you? Every time you think he's going to do something you want, he does the opposite.

Just to reach you a lesson.

"Stop squirming." He huffed, reaching around you to type in notes on his holographic keyboard.

You whined, trying desperately to grind your hips down, to get his cock just a bit deeper inside of you, wanting so badly to have him just pin you to the desk and pound you until your eyes crossed.

But he kept you firmly secured in his lap. He wouldn't let you touch yourself, you had to keep your hands gripped at the arms of the desk chair that creaked under your combined weight.

He kept you from moving, his thick thighs parting your knees and keeping your legs spread open for him while he continued to work.

"Miggy!" You mewled. "Please! Sorry for bugging you, I just--"

He growled and reached between your legs, pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger hard, a mix of pain and pleasure sparking up your spine and making your pussy flutter around the length of his cock that was currently splitting you open.

You make a sharp squeak as he snapped, "¿Qué acabo de hacer?"

He smacked your cunt that he was currently stuffed inside of, sending another wave of heat racing through you, more of your slick gushing around him to run down to his heavy balls and staining the expensive leather.

"I said keep quiet. I'm working."

He leaned in, his presence absolutely absorbing your frame, his scent swallowing you whole, threatening to devour you in one piece.

"This is what you wanted, no?" He sighed. "You wanted me inside this pretty little pussy. You got me. Now sit still."

You hiccuped softly. "Please. You know I wanted you to fuck me! Not like this..."

"Too bad, mi amor. I swear, if I had a dollar off every time I have to keep teaching you this lesson, I'd be a trillionare." He said to you, his voice a low threat.

"How many times do I have to do this before you learn patience? Hmm? A hundred? A thousand?"

You desperately roll your hips, feeling the tip of his rock brush against that gummy soft spot inside of you. "I--I just--"

He hisses, gritting his teeth as his fangs slot into their places. He brings his hand up to the lowest part your abdomen, and pressed down hard.

You all at once felt the air squeezed out of your lungs, your pussy greedily squeezing him, your heart pounding in your chest, sweat beading on your brow and sweet tears rolling down your cheeks.

"You're going to sit here and stay still while I work. And maybe--maybe--if you stay quiet and stop squirming, I'll give you what you want. Understood?"

You frantically nod your head and Miguel cruelly flicked your clit.

"That's it. Be a good little cocksleeve for me, eh, bebita?"

[ineylesian]

MIGUEL’S GIRL.

PETER B. PARKER/ MIGUEL O’HARA X FEM! READER

— AO3 | NAVI

— WORD COUNT | 1k

— WARNINGS | smut, masturbation (m), voyeurism (??), majorrr jealously, kinda cheating but not really, dirty minded peter.

— SUMMARY | it should’ve been him, but it wasn’t. you were miguel’s girl.

— AUTHOR’S NOTE | remembered a cod fic inspired by jesse’s girl and had to bring it to atsv. also peter b parker is such bee keeping age 🤭 crazy for him

Being dragged into a different universe sucked.

Peter’s head was pounding, his back aching, growing stubble itching at his chin. His foot tapped as Mayday rocked around on his lap, babbling about something he wasn’t paying attention to.

“MJ and I are on the rocks again.”

Yeah. You paused at his answer, looking back with your mouth slightly ajar.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Your response was quick, tones of guilt ridden underneath. “Uhm- how old is May?”

“She’s one.”

He sighed, slotting his fingers against his upper jaw. You were rambling about how pretty she was— his daughter, eyes shining, lashes batting at her teasingly. It’s almost as if you’d totally forgotten about what had just happened.

He’d put it lightly. MJ had called it quits (for the 5th time this year) the night this whole ordeal started. She found out about your, as she called it, “little tango with Peter Parker”, which was years ago and frankly over. You didn’t need to know that, though.

“You want to hold her?”

You excitedly walked over, scooping Mayday— his daughter, into your arms. Peter watched as you swung her around, happily responding with her incoherent babbles with nonsense of your own.

It was years ago, when you and him were together. Nothing much became of it; you dropped in from another dimension, he was single.. and bored.

Nothing much, Peter sighed; he’d know you for merely a month. Fell for you in merely a month, too, recalling the way you’d broken his heart, and his yours, as you headed for home.

That mere month he knew you was perfect. You were the girl of his dreams, he’d thought he’d escaped that.

But damn, you still looked good. Especially with his kid in your arms.

“Peter.”

Shit. He shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“Peter.”

His eyes snapped open, looking up to see Miguel standing over him, Mayday held firmly in his hands.

“She needs to be changed.”

“You’re such a dad, el diablo.” You snickered, earning a glare from the man beside you. Miguel handed Mayday back to him before turning to you, effortlessly hoisting you onto his shoulder with a single arm. “His terrible jokes are rubbing off on you. I hate it.”

“Miguelllll.”

Your whine echoed down the halls, settling coldly in his ears as Miguel took you away. A frown had absentmindedly settled on his face the moment you disappeared, following him to the bathroom. The moment he looked into the mirror, he saw it, forcing him to smile down at Mayday as she tugged on his pant leg.

“Just my luck, huh, kiddo?”

Peter knew he’d heard this sound before.

“Miguel, what if people hear?”

You’d asked it, over, and over. You were always a cautious person, but you always gave in too quickly for your own good.

He’d also heard the same whine buzz from your throat. The same one you’d do when he’d leave hickeys on your neck. The same one that he’d do to you— except he wasn’t, Miguel was.

Shit. He could’ve picked any other hotel tonight. Any other that wouldn’t have him staring at the ceiling, listening to you get ruined by another man. Any other that wouldn’t possibly have Mayday waking up to the sound of his ex getting fucked in the room above him.

Just his luck, indeed.

Why was he bothered, anyway? You weren’t together anymore, that was in the past, completely. You didn’t love him anymore, and he had a kid with another woman. Albeit, a woman that he couldn’t stay with for more than two months at a time. And, you did look really nice holding May.

…shit.

Seconds passed. Your moans grew progressively louder. Peter could feel his face flush, deep, spreading erratically to other parts of his body. Every nerve in his system was struck, listening to you make noises like that— noises that only he should be pulling from you.

Before he knew it, Peter was palming himself through his suit, aggressively, listening intently as your voice began to run a little hoarse. Miguel must have already make you cum once, then. He imagined himself in that position, spreading the embarrassing amount of precum that had gathered at his tip along his skin as his hand slipped further underneath.

Peter could almost remember every detail from your nights together. He soaked in each reaction, how your face would scrunch up when he fingered you, the way your eyes would roll back when he bottomed out. Your chants and pleas of his name echoed faintly against the shabby motel walls, contrasting with his in a disturbing symphony.

“Miguel.. ah— Miguel— don’t stop…”

It should’ve been his name you were crying. Peter’s strokes grew faster as he tried to block Miguel’s name out, violently fisting himself at the thought of you under him, hot and streaking with tears of pleasure. He could nearly feel the soft curves of your thighs that he would gently trace, choking out a moan at the way you would look at him while he was lapping up your sobbing pussy.

It should’ve been him. Should’ve been you he fucked his kid into. The thought had him grounding his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes brimming with tears as his abdomen began to tighten. You were outright wailing now, begging Miguel to let you cum.

Peter imagined that you were whining his name, just as you did before, eyes glossy, lips swollen and puffy. You cried one last time as you came, and he felt his own cum leaking onto his hands, along with Miguel’s quiet praises. He swore, burying his head into the pillows when he began to console you.

It should’ve been him, but it wasn’t. You were Miguel’s girl.

In this universe, at least.

[mybworlds]

Chapter 4

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

A/N As requested by you, here is the fourth chapter of ODLS ✌🏼 I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎 I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. 📖 If you didn't like this story, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

If you want to leave a comment and tell me what you think, thanks ❤️

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 @harriedandharassed if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

The next day when you open your eyes you feel wrapped in something incredibly warm. You open your eyes and realize that you are completely surrounded by Peña's arms.

You turn towards him and you see him. He's sleeping, his breathing is a little heavy, his lips are half open, he frowns every now and then and you can't help but smile. He seems almost normal in this circumstance, he doesn't seem to be the hardened seducer or the man who uses cutting words towards you. He even seems to be sweet.

You can't stand him and yet you have to admit it to yourself, he's like a magnet. You want to slap him and hug him at the same time. He mutters something unintelligible and all your thoughts of him stop.

“Lorraine.” he mutters.

Who is she? One of many?

He is still sleeping when he continues to mumble in his sleep “Why?” his expression becomes one of pain and so you decide to wake him up.

“Javier,” you shake him “Javier! Peña!” he opens his eyes “It’s okay, you were dreaming.” you reassure him.

He rolls over onto his back and looks at the ceiling. He starts breathing normally again, covering his face with one hand.

“It was just a dream,” you repeat.

But his expression doesn't soften. It must have been a terrible nightmare.

“What did you dream? Do you want to tell me about it?”

He takes a deep breath and exhales, then turns his head away, “Don’t worry too much about me. I’m fine.”

“All right.” you simply answer by sitting in the middle of the bed and turning your head towards the balcony from which the sunlight filters.

You run a hand through your hair, “I’m going to wash myself,” you tell him, but it’s as if you were talking to yourself because he doesn’t reply or say anything.

The jet of cool water gently caresses your skin, freeing you from that strange pleasant warmth that Peña's arms had left on you. A strange growing uneasiness spreads within you, today you will have to actively search for El Diablo. You don't know what to expect. You just know that he has inhuman ways and that if you go against him and his business, you're dead.

You hear the door open and then close. You turn off the water for a moment and open the shower door, “Peña?”

You wait a few moments, but he doesn’t answer. You finish washing yourself and then get out of the shower, you wrap yourself in a towel and then open the door and find your room completely empty. You are perplexed.

Where did he go?

As you search for a dress to go around the resort, you hear the door open. You turn your head slightly to see if Javier is back. He has two large glasses in his hands that you imagine contain coffee and with one foot closes the door behind him.

You stand up with the towel still on, while he seems to want to devour you with just one look. You clear your throat, “Coffee?”

“Uh? Yeah,” the man replies, realizing he was staring at you and handing you the cup.

“Thanks.” you sip your coffees in silence while constantly observing each other. It's strange, but not as strange as yesterday or two days ago.

“Um,” you try to focus on the reason why you are here in France “we have to find him today.” you say looking into his eyes “We have to. Or it will all have been for nothing.” you add.

His eyes have a serious, concentrated expression and then he nods, “Okay, so what's the plan?”

Maybe it's trivial, but you want to look around better. It's likely that El Diablo has booked some exclusive seats and if so, you have to find out today. Javier nods, but he seems to be perhaps too much focused on your still bare legs.

You notice how he stares at your legs, how he lets his gaze wander, how he grits his teeth, how he contorts his mouth. By now you've learned to recognize those little facial movements that let you know he's not thinking about El Diablo, but about something else entirely.

“So, are you okay with this?” you ask him.

“Huh?”

“I knew it!” you exclaim, sighing. “Okay, I’ll get dressed and explain the plan to you, again. Give me a couple minutes.”

Javier hadn't dreamed of his soon-to-be-fiancée for a while and doing so had left him with a deep state of anguish that, despite your attention to him, shows no signs of passing.

Javier truly loved her. He would have married her. He would have even given up his job if she had asked him! She was expecting a child from him, it was obvious that family would come before his work.

Then, the truth came out and Javier felt like he had been punched in the face. Lorraine, his Lorraine, had lied.

From that moment on, he no longer believed in love. From that moment on, he only focused on his physical needs and how they could benefit his investigations.

Even when he met you, he thought he could have a good time by having useful information for his investigation, but you surprised him. You have repeatedly said no to his proposals, allusions and this on the one hand has made you detestable in his eyes, but on the other even more fascinating.

He knows that there is nothing between you except a room that forces you to stay together in a few square meters and a mission in which he wanted to participate strongly. But deep down, Javier also did it because he wants to know you. He wants to know the real you. Not the lonely bitch who barely says hello to anyone when she comes into the office. He knows there's more. If only you'd let go. He knows he upset you by telling you that you need hugs and caresses, and that you are your own worst judge but if he said those words it was because he felt them and was convinced of them.

The night before you fell asleep while whispering a name, you turned over a couple of times in bed and a feeling of great tenderness was unleashed in him, he hugged you tightly in your sleep telling you to stay calm and you started breathing regularly again and you also held onto him.

He doesn't know if you have feelings for him, if it's just physical attraction or if Javier is just imagining it all, but what he notices is that you're not embarrassed about being in his presence almost completely naked as you were on the first day.

When you come out of the bathroom you look enchanting: the dress you chose is blue, your hair is styled in a high bun and you smile. You smile at him. He can't help but smile back with a knowing expression.

You are beautiful.

You are so sure of yourself, you hold his hand with such naturalness that for a few meters, Javier forgets that this is a farce and that there is nothing between you. You're faking it so well. Your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, it all seems so real.

He's even thinking about kissing you, when he sees you as if enraptured by something and you, taking his hand, pull him towards a disco.

“¿Qué es? (What's up?)”

“Ven, Diego. (Come on, Diego.)”

After a moment of recovering from your gestures, Javier realizes what has really caught your attention. You saw one of El Diablo's henchmen enter.

You approach the entrance where you see a brochure inviting the resort's guests to this themed evening. Women must wear a black dress and a small mask, men in white shirt and a mask too.

“That’s perfect.” you whisper in his ears and then looking for his eyes after you leave the club.

“We don’t know if…” he pauses, looking around, “if he’s really going there or if it’s just a trap for us agents. He knows we’re after him.”

A few moments later a man bumps into Javier, “Oops sorry.” he just says before continuing to walk after giving you several glances.

“It'll be fine.” you tsk “What happened to the daredevil man in you?” you tease him as you sit down at a table and have breakfast “I thought you were a man of action!”

He rolls his eyes, “I am, but we were always well equipped, never like this.”

He barely drinks a coffee, you take a croissant and share it. He refuses for the first time, but when you almost put it in his mouth, he can't refuse, smiling at you with his eyes.

When you get up from the table, Javier checks his jacket pocket and frowns.

“What’s up?” you ask him, mimicking his expression.

“The CIA guys are here. That man gave me the same brochure as before. He’s here.” he whispers showing you the flyer that had been written in pen, he is here, eyes and ears open, we don't lose sight of you.

You nod.

“It can be done.”

You take off the ring, he frowns. “What. . . What are you doing?” he asks you.

He had already experienced a similar scene and the result was the same: a punch in the stomach and the sensation of acid rising up.

Lorraine....

“We have to be credible and with a ring on our finger we won’t get very far.”

Javier places a hand on your wrist, “We’ve been pretending to be a married couple here. We made all this fuss and now we have to pretend to be each other’s business?”

“Javi,” you say, placing your hand on his, “it’s just for tonight, then I’ll put it back on.” You reply with a small smile.

Night comes and you and Javier are ready to take the stage. There are really a lot of people, the alcohol flows freely, the music pierces your ears, the lights color all of you in patches.

Javier is particularly nervous. You can see it in the way he looks around, in the glances he throws at you and in the way he lets his gaze wander from you to the others who look at you almost hungrily.

You wore a short black dress that left almost your entire back exposed, a pair of vertiginous heels and red lipstick. Javier a white shirt and a pair of black pants. He’s so fucking handsome.

You grab a beer leaning on the bar and wearing your sexiest look, you’re a bomb.

Peña is at a certain distance from you, but not so far as to lose sight of you.

He is afraid. He didn't want to admit it, but he is afraid. Not so much for himself, he knows how certain things go. He is afraid for you. You never did this, you never pretended to be someone else just to catch a criminal. You always went in company and with a gun in your hand.

“A whiskey.”

You are so fucking beautiful and Javier knows he should be looking anywhere but at you constantly, but tonight you are a delicious distraction.

You are constantly surrounded by groups of young men and you act so naturally as if you have always been undercover, you know when to laugh, when to touch your hair and when to look at "your husband" who is tremendously charming tonight.

It would have been a normal night at a disco if at a certain point Peña hadn't recognized one of El Diablo's henchmen coming towards you and that's when all his senses went on alert. He sees the guy whispers something to you and you, looking away for a moment at your partner, walk away with the stranger.

Peña knows that now he just has to trust you and wait. He can't follow you, he'd put you in serious danger.

Some girl approaches him, tries to seduce him and, if he had been alone, he probably would have even given in, but he can't.

He waits for you for what seems like hours, then he sees you again. You stand still for a moment and then head towards the bar again.

Peña sees the same guy from before still scrutinising you as if to understand whether you are who you said you were or whether you are someone else. Javier loses count of how many drinks you consume, when he sees you half staggering he approaches you placing an arm on your hip.

“Hey, hands off!” you exclaim before turning to him “Oh, it’s you, my husband!” you exclaim, leaning against him and burying your head in the crook of his neck, smiling.

“Don't worry, I'll take you away.” He whispers in your ear, holding you tight and placing a hand on your back.

The two of you walk side by side, or rather you walk completely next to him and several times you rest your head in his hollow, stopping every now and then. He caresses your back, now your hair, in a gesture of affection.

When you enter the room, you lean against the door and look at him, Javier takes off his watch and puts it on the nightstand.

Then you look into each other's eyes for a long moment, "Thank you." you tell him walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck before you find yourself kissing each other sometimes gently, sometimes a little less so.

You are still entwined on the bed, he is between your legs, his hands on the sides of your face so as not to weigh too much on you, you have your hands in his dark hair.

“Don’t.” you say perhaps in a flash of lucidity and then resume kissing and being kissed.

“I was scared for you,” he confesses, giving you a kiss first on the cheek, then on the side of your neck.

“I know you have a soft heart, Javi,” you murmur, holding him close.

The next day when you open your eyes and find yourself wrapped in his arms, you almost jump.

You move him away from you and he jumps, opening his eyes with a annoyed look, “What the fuck are you doing?” he asks, looking at you with an annoyed expression.

“No, what the fuck were you doing holding me tight to you?!” you blurt out, adjusting the strap of your dress that had slipped down your arm.

He sits up and runs a hand through his disheveled hair, “Nothing happened between us. Okay? Don’t worry.”

“You better!” you exclaim.

“What the fuck can you be such a bitch when you first wake up!” he exclaims.

“Fuck you.” You tell him, turning your back on him.

For a while you remain silent, “What happened when you walked into that guy in that private room?” he asks.

“He wants me to go to his private room tonight.”

“He?” he asks you, raising his eyebrows as if to make sure he understood correctly.

You nod, “Himself.”

“Fuck.” he whispers, placing a hand over his mouth “Okay, and how did you introduce yourself to him?”

“That’s the problem. Um, I… I said I was an escort.”

“You, what?! Jesus, you couldn't have been that stupid!” he exclaims “And what will you do if he asks you for a blowjob or a fuck?!” he blurts out, widening his eyes “Or worst?!”

“It’s my, our chance.” You tell him. “Don’t worry.”

“I won’t let you do this,” he says, placing a hand on your forearm.

You look at his hand on your forearm, “It’ll be okay.”

“If anything happens to you…” he tells you and you notice all concern in his voice.

You swallow, “I know what I’m doing.” You pause, “But I hope you and the others will have my back.” You add by placing a hand on his.

“I will.”

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors LOOK THE OTHER WAY

Ch 007: Buckle Up, Baby

A night in the town with Eddie takes a spicy turn when an outfit on display catches your eyes. And what do ya know? It’s your exact measurement…

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 3.5k words

disclaimers & warnings — dialogue heavy, arguing, trauma dumping again, angst, yearning, shy girl yelling at eddie (as she should), sexual tension, grinding, thigh riding, car canoodling 🫣

“She’s a black magic woman, she’s trying to make a devil out of me.”

♡

Spellbinding is the best word you can think of to describe Nocturna, a town spookier than Hawkins just 20 minutes inland. It sure lives up to its name, with the average closing time for restaurants, bars, and shops being 3:30 AM.

“This city is so cute,” you beam. “Love the late night vibe it’s got going on.”

“Right?” Eddie agrees. “If Hawkins were a Spencer’s, ‘Turna would be the back of it.”

Eds takes you to El Diablo Bar & Grill where you settle for a ‘TURNA Tossed salad’ and beer. ‘The Eddie Special’ may have left you full, but there’s no way you’d ever pass up free food.

Your boss helps himself to a couple of beers as well, both of them way too hoppy for your liking. And just as you predicted, downing two of those bad boys after smoking a shit ton of weed has its repercussions.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing?”

Personal space is a foreign concept for Eddie whenever he’s under the influence. Not like that’s any new information. You just didn’t expect him to be so tender, affectionately fiddling with your hair, using it as a mustache, and then attempting to braid it. You’re surprised because he actually does pretty well.

“Where’d you learn how to braid?” you ask.

“Taught myself,” he replies. “That way if Nancy ever calls out, someone at Hellfire would at least know how to do hair. Luckily I haven’t ran into that problem yet.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” you swoon as Eddie goes to braid your other side.

“I’m also learning how to curl hair,” Eddie adds. “If I could get past burning myself with the iron, that’d be great. Until then, I’ll always vouch for a traditional sock bun.”

You watch has he loops your hair around itself to secure the braid, just as he did the first one. Then comes the unpredictable. Suddenly, you’re taken aback when Eddie gives your hair a tug. Aggressively.

“Eddie!” you cry out.

He spirals into an outrageous belly laugh.

You shove Eddie away from you in a playful form of disgust, his dramatics launching him right out of his seat. Customers start to look your way. You hide your face in embarrassment.

“I think you’ve flown off the handle,” you accuse.

“No,” he denies. “Just comfortable that’s all.”

“Yeah and a bully,” you hiss, undoing your braids out of spite. He knows you’re kidding around.

“What?” Eddie questions, reeling you in via bar stool, smirk growing more and more prominent the closer you get. “You don’t like that I pull hair?”

“That’s enough, you little freak.”

Eddie stops, jokingly wincing at your harsh words. "Thought you were into freaks."

"...Shut up,” is all you can think to say.

"Come on..." he taunts, giving your side a soft pinch. “You know I'm right."

He is right.

You poke his stomach with one of your pointy fingers.

"Okay, and what if I was? Does that get you off? Mr. Know-It-All?”

Eddie clears his throat and squirms in his seat.

"No, actually,” he shakes his head, leaning into your touch. “Cuz that's just not true.”

Your eyes find each other again.

An apology lingers in the air. Eddie bites his lower lip as he stares, closing the gap between you two with a slight turn of his knee. You explore his dark irises, his wide pupils. When fixated on you, they emit what appears to be sorrow, with just a pinch of regret.

"Sometimes I'm wrong. And I fuck up,” he admits. “Whether I like to admit it or not."

Eddie chugs the remainder of his pint before slamming it.

You shrug. “Yeah. Like when you told me to get off my phone today but stayed on yours the entire time.”

Eddie chuckles away from you.

“Playing music…” you persist, leaning into him a little more. “Texting people…”

“You jealous?” he questions, tongue rolling around in his cheek.

“In your dreams,” you lie.

You’re so close to him now you can practically smell the beer. He inches closer, the front portion of his curly locks tickling the side of your face.

“In your dreams.”

Your thighs clench. In your dreams, indeed. Eddie winks at you like he knows.

“Whatever you say,” you scoff. “Freak.”

———— 🌹————

After dinner, you and Eddie decide to walk around the shopping strip. Eddie walks closest to the street, leaving you on the innermost part of the sidewalk like a gentleman.

“So who’s Wayne? Heard you and Henry talking about him before we left.”

“He's my uncle,” Eddie answers. “Pretty much raised me since I was a kid. I owe a lot to him.”

You continue to walk. Somehow along the way, you and Eddie end up strolling with your arms around each other. He turns to ask,

“Who is Max?”

“Max?” you’re stunned to hear that name roll off his tongue. Despite him helping with her YMCA membership, you had always registered them as being worlds apart from each other. “She’s my sister.”

Eddie slowly nods in understanding.

“Her full name is Maxine,” you explain. “Max for short.”

“No wonder,” Eddie chuckles. “I always hear you mentioning a Max and have been wondering who that is.”

“You jealous?” you echo him.

He sneers, “You wish.”

You take this time to admire Eddie. His wanderlust eyes. His pronounced Cupid’s Bow. His thick, wavy locks. The tiny freckle at the crook of his neck that you were sure a lover left for him in a past life. The way his dark clothes always seem to hug him so nice. He’s breathtaking. The hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

"WHOA!" Eddie brings you back. "That's the hottest shit I've ever seen!"

There he goes again. You race after Eddie as he scampers across the street, leading you to what appears to be a lingerie-slash-sex shop. On display is a beautiful scarlet red two piece with fluffy wings behind it to match.

DEVIL WOMAN, is what the set is advertised as.

"Whew, lord," Eddie whistles, pressing his hands against the plexiglass.

He turns to you desperately.

"You can make SO many tips with this on," Eddie insists. "I'm telling you right now woman, you need to seize this opportunity."

"Are you gonna pay for it?" you joke, batting your lashes seductively.

"Sure!" Eddie exclaims. "A-anything you want tonight, you'll get."

It sounds too good to be true.

"Not you trying to spoil me..."

"Definitely me trying to spoil you,” a sneaky smirk forms across his face yet again. “Especially since I’ve been an asshole lately.”

It’s a fair bargain. Not like you can deny it either.

You two shake hands, deal, and make your merry way inside Madame Sédutrice’s Love Boutique.

Time to make his pockets — and heart — hurt.

————💋 ————

It fits you like a glove.

Everything is just right. There is no free space, but there is some real estate to breathe. The set is also squat and split proof. Perfect for a good show.

You strut in front of the mirror like a Victoria’s Secret Devil, relishing over how well the fiery red set accentuates your bust, hugs your hips, and highlights the cheekiest parts of your ass with just enough coverage to have the men wondering.

To leave Eddie wondering.

You’re parading around some more, taking selfies at all angles while Eddie talks to the cashier about guitars. Eventually he does circle back around, as you've been in here for a long period of time.

"Shy Girl," Eddie checks on you from outside. "Did you die in there?"

You put your phone away.

"No, but you're about to."

He laughs. "I love the confidence. Let me at her."

You pull the curtain over so that Eddie can see.

“Jesus fuck.”

Eddie sinks down to his knees, the tips of his fingers trailing from your hips to your thighs, down to your calves. He’s being dramatic again, you think, evident by the three bows of resignation he gives you as he continues to take in your beauty.

"What do you think?" you ask him.

"Simply out of this world," Eddie gasps. He stands to spin you around like he once did before. "You look... like an absolute fantasy. Destined for some alternate dimension."

His breathing heightens as his rough hands trail down to your birthmark. And soon, you’re up there with him.

“I can already see you on that stage,” Eddie gushes. “Doing your thing, stealing the show, driving customers wild. The spotlight soaking in all your beauty...”

“The version of me living in your head sounds pretty damn cool,” you giggle.

You snake your arms around the nape of his neck. Eddie blushes. “She’s a lot like the girl in front of me, actually.”

Either of you can let go now. But you both don't.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks.

"Mmm… I don't think I'm done just yet," you bat your eyes once more. "What’s a set like this without some accessories?"

You grab his hand and he watches in shock — almost starstruck by you — when you manually wrap his hand around your neck.

“Like a necklace of sorts,” you continue. “A choker, maybe?”

“A choker,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He gives you a teasing, gentle squeeze. You’re an absolute puddle.

He grins at you connivingly, playfully.

"Lead the way, m'lady. Anything you want tonight is yours.”

———— 🔥 ————

Satisfied is an understatement. You’re strutting back to Eddie’s van now as he trails closely behind, hauling shopping bags that belong to you in each hand.

“Thank you Eddie,” you say as he manages to open the door for you too.

“Anytime, Princess,” he insists.

You get settled on the passenger side while Eddie starts the van back up again. He waits for a while in his seat.

“You looked stunning in that piece,” Eddie raves, the image of you strutting around still living in his head. “I almost don’t want you to wear it anymore.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What? Why?”

“I wanna be the only one who gets to see you in it,” he explains.

“Gatekeeper much?”

“No, I’m just selfish,” he says. “Especially when you look like that.”

Eddie takes it upon himself to fasten your seatbelt for you.

Your eyes trail along as he clicks it in place, adjusting the seatbelt so that it laid perfectly and untangled, protecting your hips…shielding your chest…

“My eyes only, you know?”

“Just yours?”

“Mhm,” he strains. “Mine and only mine.”

His gentle eyes are begging, glued to your lips like bees to honey. His tongue pokes out again, and you watch as he licks his lips in lust. Fuck. You can’t help it anymore. You decide to lean into him and try again.

But hostile air stops you in your place. There's fear in that man's eyes the closer you get and he pulls away from you.

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE.

You swat the rest of him away. “You’re doing it again.”

Eddie sighs in defeat.

"I know."

The fact that you didn’t have to elaborate is very telling. Eddie is not stupid. He knows the game he’s playing.

You watch with zero sympathy this time as Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He lifts a hand. You flinch. Then you relax again when you realize the man isn’t trying to hit you.

“I’m VERY aware of what I’m doing, Hargrove. Okay? That’s the worst part.”

“And you think it’s okay? You like stringing me along, is that it?”

“There’s MORE TO IT, alright?” he groans. “I just don’t know how to explain it to you just yet.”

Eddie starts up again.

“I…” he says, his haunted eyes sparkling. “I just. CAN’T. get. involved. with a coworker. Let alone someone who works under me. Think of all the legal issues that can rise up.”

Bullshit.

“That is a FUCKING LIE!” you scream. “A fucking LIE, Eddie and you know how I know that?”

He looks back over at you.

“It’s because you didn’t think twice about it when you were hooking up with Chrissy.”

You’ve had enough of his excuses. Startled, Eddie shies away from you, surprised that you knew of what he so desperately wanted to conceal.

“Who told you that?”

“Who else would know?”

“Everyone at Hellfire, basically,” Eddie laughs pettily. “I just hoped it wouldn’t get around to you.”

Frustrated, Eddie turns off his car. He tosses his keys onto the center console between you both.

“Chrissy and I happened like two or three times. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he asks you. “She was horny, I was horny. She never gave me the time of day in high school so I got all excited. One thing led to another. Thrill eventually wore off. Now she’s just one of my good friends.”

You cross your arms and glare out the window.

“But the reason I was soooo okay with the Chrissy thing is because I only saw her as a fling,” Eddie continues. “End of story.”

“Where exactly are you going with this?”

“The difference with you is that a part of me actually wanted this to go somewhere.”

Does he think you’re stupid? Surely Eddie can’t think you’re just going to fall for his words instead of his actions.

You scoff. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

You muster up the courage to look over at him again. And there he is, his big brown doe eyes glimmering under the full moon.

“I’ve never met anyone like you before, Hargrove,” he mumbles softly. “That shit’s terrifying. For the first time in an incredibly long time I feel like someone gets me.”

You attempt to look away again. Eddie cranes his neck over towards you to meet you where you’re at.

“Someone who gets what it’s like to have a shitty, absent father,” Eddie continues. “Someone who also had to learn how to navigate grief before getting a fucking learner’s permit.”

“You can stop,” you choke. “I get the picture.”

But Eddie continues.

“…Someone who also has to be the bread-winner of the family, not by choice, but by necessity. And someone whose now got a shit ton of trust issues cuz somebody else had to go and fuck ‘em up THAT badly.”

Your throat begins to burn. A soul cry marinates at the pit of your stomach.

"I'm so infatuated with you, Hargrove,” your boss insists. “Okay? You have no idea.”

You tsk.

“You’re infatuated with me,” it’s more of a statement than a question of yours. “Yet you push me away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, like you don’t have trouble accepting things you so rightfully deserve?”

He reaches over to grab your hand. You let him.

"There's nothing scarier than falling for someone who is your literal mirror," Eddie whispers. "Especially when you don't like anything about yourself."

“I know.”

You two fall silent and end up staring ahead for quite some time.

Both of you observe a couple cross the street together. The smitten pair are taking a stroll on the sidewalk, hand in hand and falling into one another like missing puzzle pieces. The guy kisses the girl's forehead, his silhouette reminding you so much of Steve.

“I also didn’t wanna get in between you and Harrington," Eddie mumbles.

“I told you we’re just fuck buddies.”

“But he really, really likes you.”

“Yeah, but if he’s not over Nancy, then what’s the point?”

It’s been a decade since Steve and Nancy broke up and he’s still lovesick over her. When you realized that she couldn’t ever be replaced, you stopped trying to pursue Steve romantically. Eddie falls mute again.

"I'm just his lil pocket pussy for all I know," you break the ice with a laugh.

"Don't say that," Eddie disapproves. "You are more than your body, Shy Girl."

“Then tell me what I am, Eddie,” the wounded part of you speaks. “Since I don’t seem to know.”

His gaze softens. “Well, it’s easy.”

You look at him.

"Corn ball alert,” Eddie prefaces. “But you’re the conversations you have with your regulars, asking them about their day and if they have any updates for you… You're the friendships you make with girls that you don't see a need to compete with. And you're that silly little dance you do when Argyle makes you food. And you’re also the destructive parts of yourself that you keep hiding from but little do you know that even those parts of you tell a story."

The sound of police sirens divert your attention. You shudder at the noise. Eddie seemingly makes note of it and clears his throat as a placeholder.

"…I didn't think you paid attention to any of that, Eds."

"I'm more observant than you think."

You believe him. After all, there are instances when you catch him sneaking a glance at you, turning away too late because you’re caught by his eyes to do the same.

A sigh escapes your body. You interlock your fingers with his.

“I don’t know what... this… is,” you begin. “But all I know is that I really enjoy your company. And that I’ve had a crush on you since the day I met you. If it wasn't obvious already."

Eddie snorts. “Even when I was freaking out over kegs and ground chili?”

“Especially when you were freaking out over kegs and ground chili.”

And now forgiveness is in the air. Monkey see, monkey do, and soon both you and Eddie are grinning at each other from one side of your faces to the other.

“Please,” Eddie requests politely with a gulp. “Will you let me kiss you?”

“Yes.”

To your surprise, Eddie leaves a peck on your cheek out of all places. This fucker, still so polite. He doesn’t touch or graze anywhere else while he does.

“Thanks,” he says as he pulls away. “I guess.”

But you only want him closer now.

“Oh don’t be stupid,” you giggle grabbing his face with both your hands. “Just fucking kiss me.”

You rest your hands at his chin when you pull him closer. And with Eddie’s permission, you sink your lips onto his. His warm breath circles you as your lips attach to one another.

There’s no turning back now.

Eddie’s lips are as soft as a cloud, and they seem to know yours very well. When he’s latched on, Eddie synchronizes with your rhythm almost immediately, getting a few more kisses in before his tongue begs you for entrance. You deny him access and push him back.

“Oooh,” you taunt him, causing him to laugh. “Someone likes me.”

“Maybe,” Eddie blushes, cupping the side of your face with one of his rigid hands. He gives the back of your head an endearing little scratch.

“But you…can’t get involved huh?”

Eddie shakes his head, doing his very best to stand his ground. He’s back to staring at your lips. “No. Definitely can’t…get involved.”

Of course not.

“Not even if I do this?”

You swoop over to press down on the button of Eddie’s seat belt to unbuckle it. Click. He restrains himself, but there’s wonder in his eyes.

“Or this?”

Your hands travel to the side furthest from you as you lean to crank the lever, lowering the head of Eddie’s driver seat to a 30 degree angle.

Amused now, he furrows his brows together and rests his hands behind his head, manspreading as you play that agonizingly long game.

“You’re pushing it, Hargrove…”

Using his unavailable hands to your advantage, you climb over him and assert yourself on his lap. A low groan escapes Eddie’s nose. You make sure to strategically situate yourself right on his crotch. Eddie’s breath hitches, hand hovering over your birthmark as you sink those hips into him. He bucks his up in return, trying to keep up with you.

“What about this?”

“Oh, that’s not fair…”

His hands are back at your waist.

A protruding essence grows in size as you continue to ride Eddie’s thigh. Soft, low whimpers escape from his chest, his dark eyes now beseeching at his mercy. Eddie’s fingers curl, enclosing themselves tightly around the fabric of your baby tee. His available hand gnaws at the seat below him.

“I don’t like playing fair,” you whisper huskily. “I just like getting even.”

Both of yours eyes are glued to what you’re doing, where you’re grinding, and how.

“Why do you do this to me?” he whispers longingly.

“I think it’s safe to say that you’ve been edging me for quite some time, Munson,” you shrug angelically. “Now it’s my turn to give you a taste of—”

You squeal suddenly when Eddie’s hand flies to your throat. The grip he has on you tightens hastily, long before you can even process it.

Shock overpowers you as Eddie studies you eagerly, with flared nostrils and a hot chest. You peer down at him with glossy eyes and yearning lips.

“Back of the van,” Eddie orders. “Now.”

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tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon, @ali-r3n, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @bebe07011, @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00, @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

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author's note: i'd be lying if i told you guys i didn't play imaginary barbies in my head in order to map out the argument between eddie and shy girl dfsjklfdkgfgsg would you say I’m a puppet master?

[stanleypinesgf]

Falling for Mystery - Chapter Nineteen

Falling for Mystery Masterlist Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of: gambling, drinking and the trauma with the ex but it's not in depth, enjoy! Please note: this is a slow burn fic with eventual smut and mature themes, 18+ only and please check warnings at the start of chapters! i swear the second i post an apology for not writing, i get inspired to finish a chapter smh, oh well! TYSM for all the support so far!! w/c: 2,487 The last few nights had been a hazy blend of neon lights, full-bodied laughter, and the wild thrill of rolling dice. Vegas left us no better off, but not much worse either. It had been exactly what we’d wanted—a blur of spontaneity and freedom. But our relationship… well, somewhere between the casinos and the sunrises, we’d slipped into a rhythm as natural as breathing, like we’d been moving to this beat all along without realizing it. I was relishing this newfound feeling of security and warmth with Stan, and from what I could tell, he was too.

Now, as the glow of the city faded into the distance, Stan took us back out onto the open road. His grip on the steering wheel was firm and steady, a mix of confidence and pride that made me smile. In the El Diablo, he looked so at ease, like he was exactly where he was meant to be. I must’ve been watching him a beat too long, lost in thought, because he turned and shot me a curious look, one of his large hands giving my thigh a gentle squeeze.

“You okay in there?” he chuckled, a spark of concern flickering across his face, softening his usual bravado.

I grinned, feeling a warm glow in my chest. “Just admiring the view. It’s not half bad.”

A blush crept up from his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears, though he tried to shake it off, rolling his eyes with a bemused smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the faint pink lingered, making him look a bit softer in a way I had come to love.

The engine hummed in time with the miles ticking by, and for those first few hours, the drive was effortless. Stan’s stories flowed as easily as the road ahead, each one more exaggerated than the last. He gestured wildly with one hand as he talked, painting scenes so vivid they felt like memories we were living right then and there.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I almost got kicked out of a bar for winnin’ too many games of darts?” he asked, laughter dancing in his voice.

I shook my head, leaning in closer. “No, but I’m sure it’s a classic.”

“Oh, it was! I was on fire that night. Took down this guy who looked like he could crush a car with his bare hands. I swear, he was ready to throw me out, but I just smiled and said, ‘Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t handle the heat!’” He laughed, and I joined in, the sound filling the car like music.

We traded laughs, filling in gaps in each other’s retelling of the Vegas escapades, our best attempts at piecing together the blurry, half-remembered nights.

Noon slipped by in a flash, and we pulled over at a gas station in the middle of nowhere to grab a quick bite. Even under the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights, that dusty pit stop felt like an adventure. I picked out a bag of chips while Stan eyed the selection of sodas with the seriousness of a connoisseur.

“Caffeine or sugar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not both?” I grinned, tossing two cans of Pitt Cola into the basket.

Every small thing, from picking out snacks to catching each other’s eye over Styrofoam cups of coffee, had a quiet magic. We had this feeling that there was nowhere else in the world we’d rather be. It was new for us both, this effortless sense of belonging together, and I found myself cherishing it, wanting to hold onto every simple, beautiful moment.

As afternoon faded to late day, the sky stretched wide and open above us, painted with long strokes of orange and gold. The glow spilled into the car, catching in Stan’s hair and casting soft shadows across his face. He was quieter now, his stories trailing off as the caffeine from his coffee wore thin. I watched him try to stifle a yawn, his hand moving to cover it as though I wouldn’t notice.

“Getting tired, huh?” I teased, brushing a hand across his arm.

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Nah, I’m golden, sweetheart,” he said, but another yawn betrayed him as his eyelids drooped at the corners, making me laugh.

“Uh-huh.” I crossed my arms, watching him struggle to focus. “Why don’t you let me take over for a while? You’re gonna pass out if you keep this up.”

His eyes flicked over to me, his expression somewhere between amused and dubious. “This is the Stanmobile we’re talkin’ about here. I don’t just hand her over to anyone.” He chuckled, but it was half-hearted; even he couldn’t muster up his usual teasing grin.

“Stan,” I said softly, giving him an encouraging look, “I spent months practically living out of my car and navigating roads all over the country. I know how to handle a lot of things… including your baby here.”

He gave me a long look, the stubborn glint in his eye flickering as he weighed my words. “You sure about this? She’s got a few quirks,” he warned, clearly struggling between his protectiveness and his exhaustion.

I nodded, reaching over to give his arm a gentle squeeze. “Trust me. Just close your eyes for a while and get some rest. I’ll keep her steady.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, he finally sighed, giving in with a reluctant but affectionate smile. “Fine, but anythin’ crazy happens and I’m takin’ back those keys.”

“Deal,” I replied, grinning as he finally pulled over to the side of the road. With a tired sigh and a stretch, he climbed out and made his way around to my side. Though he looked a bit worn out, he still offered a hand to help me out, that familiar spark in his eyes softened by the weight of a long day.

Once I’d slid over into the driver’s seat, he leaned in, adjusting the seatbelt and giving me an approving nod, his eyelids heavy but still holding that mischievous glint. After he closed my door, he walked slowly back to the passenger side, sinking into the seat with a contented sigh. He gave me a lazy smile, crossing his arms as he settled in. “Alright, let’s see what you got,” he teased, his voice warm and easy as he closed his eyes, leaning back to relax.

As I settled in behind the wheel, a quiet thrill bloomed at the thought of being trusted with something this important to him. Adjusting the seat, I eased the car down the highway, feeling the low rumble of the engine beneath my hands. Beside me, Stan leaned his head back, arms crossed, stubbornly trying to stay alert, though his face already showed signs of fatigue. Not five minutes later, he succumbed, slipping into a deep, even sleep. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was interrupted by soft, unbothered snores, each one a little louder than the last.

For a long while, it was just me, the steady drone of the road, and the rumbling sounds of his snores as we cut across the vast, open stretch of highway. The warmth of this moment washed over me, surprising me with its ease and simplicity. Memories of the past flickered through my mind, moments I’d long since buried, but somehow the softness and the trust we shared brought them to the surface. It was almost startling to realize how far I’d come from those days when love had felt like something sharp-edged, guarded, conditional. I used to think that was how it was supposed to be; tight control, anxiety like a shadow I could never shake. I’d spent years keeping my guard up, never giving too much, always careful to stay a step back. Back then, I’d told myself it was easier to keep people at a distance, safer that way.

But here I was, not even a year into knowing Stan, and he was trusting me, not just with his prized car but with himself. Every mile we travelled, the gap between what I’d known and what I’d found grew wider. I glanced over at him, his face softened in sleep, a faint smile still lingering on his lips even in slumber. He wasn’t trying to be anything but himself, and somehow, for the first time, I felt like I could do the same.

After a while, Stan stirred beside me, blinking awake with a lopsided, groggy smile. He glanced over, his voice thick with sleep as he asked, “How’s my girl holdin’ up?”

I shot him a quick grin. “The car’s running like a dream. Smooth as ever.”

Stan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Meant you, Sunshine. But glad to hear she’s doin’ alright too,” he said, laughing quietly. He rubbed his eyes and looked me over, the concern in his gaze unmistakable. “You okay to keep goin’ a little longer?”

I nodded, warmth spreading through me at the casual way he asked, as if watching out for me was second nature by now. “Didn’t think you’d be so protective while I’m behind the wheel,” I teased, a playful smile dancing on my lips.

“Protective’s just part of the package, sweetheart,” he replied, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “But wake me if you need a break, alright?” His eyes softened as he settled back into the seat, a hint of mischief still lingering even in his drowsiness.

“Well, if we keep driving straight through, we can skip the motel and get back to the Shack quicker.” The thought of returning to our cozy little space felt like a warm hug, and I cherished how naturally I could think of our shared life as home.

Stan’s expression brightened a bit at my words. “That sounds like a plan. I’d rather be back in our own bed than stuck in some dusty motel any day.” He shifted slightly, nestling into the seat with a contented sigh. “If you need me, just wake me, okay?”

“Will do,” I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched him drift off. Butterflies fluttered and warmth spread through me as he casually referred to his bed as “ours,” reinforcing the sense of belonging blossoming between us. The quiet trust we shared was quickly becoming my safe space, and I savoured each moment of this deepening bond.

It struck me, almost painfully, how wrong I’d been about what I thought I deserved. I’d spent years bracing myself for the worst, anticipating moments that would make me flinch or retreat. But here, there was only quiet warmth and an unwavering sense of trust. Stan had slipped past all the walls I’d built, and with him, it felt like my journey was coming full circle.

In a way, I’d set out on the road months ago thinking I was searching for a place to belong, somewhere I might finally call home. But as I glanced over at Stan, his relaxed face softly illuminated by the fading afternoon light, I realised I’d finally found it. We weren’t just heading back to a small town; I was on my way to the kind of home I’d never known was possible, one I wanted to hold onto forever.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow through the windshield, I found myself humming softly to the radio. The familiar tunes wrapped around us like a warm blanket, and I felt a sense of peace settle in my chest. I stole another glance at Stan, his lips curled in a contented smile even in sleep.

“Hey, Stan,” I whispered, nudging him gently. “Wake up and watch the sunset with me.”

He stirred, blinking slowly as he adjusted to the light. “What’d I miss?” he mumbled, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

“The best view in the world,” I replied, tilting my head toward the horizon. 

His eyes sparkled with recognition, and he leaned closer to the window, taking in the vibrant colours painting the sky. “Now that’s a sight worth wakin’ up for,” he said, turning to me, the soft light catching the warmth in his gaze.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling a swell of happiness. “It really is.” Stan's expression shifted as he took in the scene, and he suddenly sat up straighter. “Wanna pull over and watch it properly?”

“Good idea,” I replied, my heart racing with excitement.

Without thinking twice, I pulled over to the side of the road, the engine humming softly as I shifted into park. The sun hung low, casting golden rays that danced across the landscape. As I opened the door, he was already out and walking around to my side, a playful glint in his eye. “C’mere gorgeous,” he said, a hint of sleep lingering in his voice. With a gentle lift, he scooped me up effortlessly, placing me on the hood of the car, crossing to the other side and climbing up next to me. He settled down, our shoulders brushing as we leaned back to take in the view. The sky shifted from orange to deep purple, streaked with hints of pink that seemed to mirror the fluttering in my chest.

“It’s perfect,” I breathed, glancing sideways at him. He was gazing at the horizon, a contented smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart swelling with the moment.

“Not half as perfect as you,” he said, turning to me with a teasing grin. The sincerity in his voice sent a warm shiver down my spine.

Before I could respond, he leaned closer, his hand brushing against mine, fingers intertwining. The world around us faded, and suddenly it felt like it was just the two of us, suspended in time. My breath caught as he tilted his head, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.

His lips met mine softly, a gentle exploration that deepened as I leaned into him, melting against the warmth of his embrace. It was a kiss filled with the promise of everything we were building together, a testament to the journey we’d embarked on. The sunset bathed us in a golden glow, wrapping us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath me. “I could get used to this,” I murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “As long as it’s with you.”

We sat there for a while, the cool evening air settling around us as stars began to twinkle in the deepening sky. It felt like home, like we were exactly where we were meant to be—together, facing whatever lay ahead.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[tarjapearce]

Thank you so much for the Crimson Crown's chapter 💖💖💖 It was so romantic 😍😍

After I finished reading the last update you had announced for the week I do a little game with myself where I try to guess what will be the next updates.

This time I bet on:

Mi Dulce Cereza

Bad Teaching

El Diablo wears Prada

Still thanks💖 love ya byeee

Yee ❤️🤭. Had to make that little moment meaningful to them 🥹.

As for the updates?

Bad Teachings Indeed. We're almost done with the story :') 8 chapters more to go! ~

I do wanna update Dr. Michael Stone though, but I'm not that sure about the idea I have. Don't wanna kill it in such a bland way you know?

As for El Diablo Wears Prada, need to adjust some details. Don't wanna make it all about the smut, wanna see drama too! Just got a bit scrambled up with the ideas. Just gotta organize them well.~

Thanks for reading, hun ❤️❤️✨

[puppycak3s]

Come On, You Know Better part 2

warnings: this is the smut one okay? Minors be gone🔞🔞 freak shit (i set the scene so now y'all can just fuck), toxic relationship, Stan is an asshole but reader matches his freak, afab anatomy but no gendered language or use of y/n, enjoy fellow old man fuckers🫶

Had you told him 10 minutes? Had 10 minutes even passed at this point? As you pulled your car into the sketchy motel parking lot, you contemplated if you should even be doing this. You scanned the lot, the dim streetlight wasn't gonna protect you if someone didn't have your best interests in mind. Only one other car besides your own. The same one that would flash it's lights at you as it drove into your driveway. You'd recognize it anywhere. El Diablo. Of course you had parked by it, but unpacking why you felt safest to be near it was something future you could deal with. Nonetheless, your eyes wandered to it. It had definitely seen better days. Dirty and scuffed, probably from being on the run, a far cry to how it was the last time you had seen it. God how long was that now? 2 years, 3 maybe? Long enough for you to know to stay away.

You waited a second in your car, turning off the ignition. A part of you hoped he would come out to greet you, run up to you and pull you into a bear hug and spin you around, kissing your face as you laughed. But he didn't. No, he was going to make you walk up to his shitty motel room and knock, like you didn't spend years of your lives together. Like this was nothing but a dumb hookup. You sighed to yourself. Fuck it.

You approached the door, rapping on it twice with your knuckles before taking a small step back, burying your hands in your jacket. Technically his, but the fucker didn't have the decency to come pick it up so it may as well be yours now. As the buzzing of the streetlight filled your ears with its uneasy droning, you started to question why you were here in the first place. It made you feel sick to your stomach. You knew how he saw you now and the only reason he would ever call you was for hookups, but could you say you were any better? There had been many a lonely night where you had been the one to call. It didn't matter how he was in your life, even if you hated eachother, you just wanted him in yours. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, annoyance starting to bubble up. This fucker had called YOU and he couldn't be fucked to answer the door now? As you raised your fist to knock again, this time loud enough for his dumbass to hear, it opened.

You both froze for a second, taking each other in. There was sickly, sweet feeling that you got every time you saw him after he ran off for awhile. A what could have been type of feeling that you tried to stamp out, yet it remained. He leaned his broad shoulder against the doorframe, eyeing you and then eyeing your still raised fist. He cocked a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. "Knew you wanted your hands on me doll, but I didn't call you over to fistfight, believe it or not"

You rolled your eyes at his stupid little half smile. Cocky bastard. You mirrored him, crossing your own arms. He looked rough, like he hadn't slept in a good while, his shirt was rumpled and he smelled like cheap cologne and smoke. "Didn't think to clean up a bit before having company over, Pines?" You gestured vaguely to him. "Company is people you enjoy to be around toots" he eyed you up shamelessly "not exactly what I'd check you off as". You kept your poker face on, no matter if what he said stung. This was the game you two played and hell if the turnout wasn't better because of it. "Oh he knows definitions now? Didn't think dropouts would retain that sort of information." He bristled a bit at that. As much as he tried to act all stoic and nonchalant, you knew him like the back of your hand.

You got close to him smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his shirt, and even though you could feel him glaring daggers at you, he let you. He was warm even through his shirt. Always a damn space heater, and as much as you wanted to rile him up, you couldn't deny the fact that you missed touching him like this. He opening his mouth to say something and then shut it. He was too tired and pent up to engage in your usual banter. "Good boy" you crooned reaching up to the side of his face. "Finally learning when to shut your trap, eh?" You were in dangerous territory, a little more pushing and he would snap. You were betting on it.

He muttered something under his breath, eyes still trained on you. You cocked an eyebrow, deciding to push him further. "what's the matter boy, lost your bark?" He snatched your wrist and held it between the two of you, enunciating each word by tightening his grip. "Fuck. You." he snarled. "Put a please on the end of that Pines, didn't your mama ever teach you-" he finally shut you up, crashing his lips into yours. About fucking time.

He bit your lip, drawing blood. You whined into his mouth at the sudden pain, and he took no time in pushing his tongue into your mouth, gripping your shoulders to keep you still. Fuck you missed this. You snaked your hands up to his hair, tangling them in it before pulling sharply. He hissed, being pulled away from your mouth, lips smeared with blood and spit. Your blood. You took the opportunity to push him into the motel room before he was on you again, closing the door behind you by slamming you into it. He slotted his leg between yours, applying pressure to where you needed it most. A strangled groan at the sudden contact as he moved his assault to your neck.

He tsked at you. "All that big talk" he breathed against you. "Just for you to turn into a whining mess". The words shot straight through you, you're brain couldn't form words from all that was transpiring. He pressed harder into you. "S'matter pup, lost your bark?" You hated that he used your own words against you. Bastard couldn't be fucked to think of something original. But you hated the effect it had on you more. You pushed back against him but it was no use, he had you properly pinned.

Lifting you up with ease, he started to move you against his leg. You forgot how physically strong this man was at times, but as the feeling started to overtake your senses, you couldn't find it in yourself to be scared. Maybe that only added to the sensation. He hummed against you, the vibration against your skin making you shiver. "So desperate huh, humping my leg like a damn dog." You could feel the last dregs of shame crawl up the back of your neck as you tried in vain to bury your flushed face into his shoulder. It was embarrassing just how close you were from this, he hadn't even touched you properly yet. Feeling yourself slipping further everytime he dragged you across his leg. You tried to claw at him, desperation quickly replacing your pride that you held so dear.

"Stan, please" you managed to breathe out. He wouldn't meet your eyes, not wanting to give you the satisfaction. This wasn't really about you right now, as good as you felt you knew he was just using you for his enjoyment. And you didn't care. "So desperate for anyone to touch you, huh doll" he muttered into your skin, you almost didn't register that words were directed at you. "I bet you'd let just anyone touch you, that right sweetheart?" You whined again as he continued to move you against his leg. You needed him to look at you, you didn't even know why, you just needed it. You choked out a moan, the degradation and pleasure embarrassingly making tears start to form in your eyes. It was almost too much.

"Please.." your throat was tight from trying not to cry. "Need.. You.. please." You could feel him smirk against your neck. He almost had you where he wanted you. He stopped his movements, keeping you from moving your greedy hips against him. He finally met your eyes, and hummed in approval at what he saw. Pupils blown out. Tears starting to stream slowly down your face. You looked wrecked and he figured it was time to push you that little bit further. "Poor thing" he said in mock sympathy moving some of your mussed up hair behind your ear. "You need me that badly huh?"

You furiously nodded, the faux kindness he had shown you making the tears harder to hold back. "Mmhm, please Stan. Need you to fuck me, please please". He shushed you softly and placed a small kiss to your forehead. "I know, sweetie, I know" his satisfied smirk betrayed his sweet words. He loosened his grip on you, flipping you so you were facing the wall. Your legs were too shaky to support you at this point but that was nothing he couldn't take care of. he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your neck. As one of his hands snaked down to yank your pants down. The cool air making you clamp your legs shut.

He tsked at you again and used his knee to nudge your legs apart again. He used his arm to pull you back against him. His arm loosely around your neck. "Behave, or I stop." he warned. You could feel his heart beating wildly against your back. You nodded again, placing your hands on the arm that threatened to choke you out. You heard him as he unbuckled his belt with his free hand, you were so close to getting what you both desperately needed. He placed said hand against your bare hip, and you couldn't help but tremble as you felt him behind you. "Gonna take what I give you, aint'cha sweetheart?" he breathed against your ear. Despite his tone, his voice sounded strained, like he was barely holding back. You whimpered in response, digging your nails into the crook of his arm. You were in for it now.

AHDHSvJLAvhluv Post Ovulation Clarity but fuck it man I stand by it. Lemme know if y'all want me to write more ashsh

[nekoannie-chan]

Algo más

Pareja: Steve Rogers X Lectora agente de S.H.I.E.L.D.

Palabras: 1049 palabras.

Sinopsis: En la noche de Halloween, cosas raras pueden suceder.

Advertencias: Demonios, alucinaciones, horror, Smut.

N/A:  Esta es mi entrada para Jaimie’s Halloween Challenge 2023 con la frase:

“El visitante inesperado.”

También puedes leerlo en Wattpad y Ao3.

         Si te gusto por favor vota, comenta y rebloguea.

No doy ningún permiso para que mis fics sean publicados en otra plataforma o idioma (yo traduzco mi propio trabajo) o el uso de mis gráficos (mis separadores de texto también están incluidos), los cuales hice exclusivamente para mis fics, por favor respeta mi trabajo y no lo robes. Aquí en la plataforma hay personas que hacen separadores de texto para que cualquiera los pueda usar, los míos no son públicos, por favor busca los de dichas personas. La única excepción serían los regalos que he hecho ya que ahora pertenecen a alguien más. Si encuentras alguno de mis trabajos en una plataforma diferente y no es alguna de mis cuentas, por favor avísame. Los reblogs y comentarios están bien.

DISCLAIMER: Los personajes de Marvel no me pertenecen (desafortunadamente), exceptuando por los personajes originales y la historia.

Anótate en mi taglist aquí.

Otros lugares donde publico: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @black23 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @azulatodoryuga

Tu luna de miel con Steve había sido todo lo que siempre habías soñado. Pasaron unas semanas en un lugar paradisíaco, disfrutando del sol, la arena y el amor que se tenían.

Era la última noche en ese lugar, pronto tenían que regresar a su vida cotidiana, pero eso no significaba que no la iban a disfrutar.

La luz tenue de las velas llenaba la habitación con un suave resplandor, Steve Rogers y tú estaban sentados en un sofá, tomados de las manos, hasta que él trazó círculos suaves en tu espalda con sus dedos, provocando que suspiraras suavemente.

"¿Cómo puedo ser tan afortunado de tenerte a mi lado?", susurró Steve en tu oído.

¡Diablos, él sabía como hacer que te excitaras!

Sonreíste y apoyaste la cabeza en su hombro, sintiéndote increíblemente cerca de él.

Porque soy increíble respondiste riéndote, él negó con la cabeza sin dejar de sonreír, luego inclinó la cabeza y rozó tus labios con los suyos en un beso suave y lento.

Sus manos se deslizaron por tu cintura y se posaron en tus caderas, acercándote aún más a él. Sus dedos comenzaron a recorrer suavemente los contornos de tu espalda.

Tus manos encontraron su rostro y acariciaste su mandíbula con ternura.

El dulce beso se convirtió en uno apasionado y ardiente, Steve te levantó del sofá y te llevó a la cama, sin romper el beso. Sus cuerpos se fundieron en un abrazo apasionado y se besaron con más intensidad aún. La ropa comenzó a volar por la habitación mientras tus manos exploraban el cuerpo de Steve. Él se estremeció bajo tu toque y gemidos suaves escaparon de sus labios.

Después de un rato se separaron, necesitaban tomar aire. Steve admiraba tu cuerpo desnudo, no importaba cuantas te había visto desnuda, siempre lo hacía. Él se acercó a ti y comenzó a acariciar tus pechos suavemente, haciendo que tus pezones se endurecieran bajo su toque.

Gemiste y arqueaste la espalda. Steve se agachó hacia tu pecho. Sus ojos iban de tu pecho a tu rostro, mientras sus manos te acariciaban, besó tus pechos, luego lamió sus pezones, chupando y lamiendo después de cada beso.

Luego comenzó a acariciar tu pezón con la lengua, mientras apretaba suavemente con los dedos el otro. Cerraste los ojos y te ibas a dejar que él hiciera lo que quisiera contigo. Sus labios y lengua se dirigieron a tu cintura, luego por tu estómago. Luego continuó bajando y lo que sus manos y su boca causó sensaciones indescriptibles en ti.

Lo necesitabas dentro de ti, él alzó la cabeza y con la mirada le suplicaste, enseguida entendió y te dio lo que necesitabas.

Ahora, al estar de vuelta en casa, la emoción era por celebrar el primer Halloween como pareja casada.

Steve y tú desempacaban sus maletas y comenzaron a decorar toda la casa para la ocasión. Las calabazas, las telarañas falsas y las luces parpadeantes creaban una atmósfera.

—¡La fiesta de Stark! —dijiste de pronto.

—¿Qué?

—Había olvidado que Tony nos invitó a la fiesta de Halloween…

Jugueteabas con el vaso en tus manos, esta vez no te estabas divirtiendo en la fiesta, quizás no habías extrañado al resto o tal vez extrañabas las vacaciones que tú y Steve tuvieron.

—¿Qué pasa? —Steve te preguntó sentándose a tu lado.

—Hay mucha gente aquí —te quejaste.

—¿Quieres regresar a casa? —conocías a lo que se refería Steve cuando usaba ese tono.

—Sabes que habrá niños tocando el timbre.

—Podemos dejar un bol afuera con dulces y que tomen los que quieran —Steve propuso, tú asentiste y se fueron del lugar.

Sin embargo, el plan de Steve no funcionó, en menos de quince minutos, el bol ya no tenía dulces, por lo que decidieron que era mejor ponerse a tallar calabazas en lo que esperaban a que fueran a pedir más dulces y así no los interrumpirían,  de pronto escucharon un golpeteo en la puerta, tal vez un poco más fuerte. Steve se encogió de hombros, pensando que eran los niños que venían a pedir dulces.

Cuando abriste la puerta, una oleada de escalofríos te recorrió de pies a cabeza. Parado frente a mí, con una sonrisa siniestra en su rostro, estaba Brock Rumlow. Estaba seguro de que Brock había muerto años atrás, pero aquí estaba, de pie en nuestra puerta.

—Brock... ¿cómo es posible? Estás muerto —balbuceaste, sin poder entender lo que estaba viendo.

Él rio suavemente, un sonido que enviaba escalofríos por mi espina dorsal. Cerraste de inmediato la puerta y te fuiste directamente a revisar las cámaras, ignorando que Steve te estaba llamando, no podía ser posible, estabas segura de lo que habías presenciado años antes y no tenía ninguna lógica lo que acababas de ver.

—¿Qué pasó —Steve te detuvo. No podías articular ninguna palabra, porque no sabías como explicar lo que había ocurrido.

—Necesito ver las cámaras —fue lo único que alcanzaste a decir y te soltaste del agarre de Steve.

Él te siguió, si era necesario, enfrentaría lo que te hubiese perturbado. Comenzaste a buscar en las grabaciones, no obstante, lo que encontraron… los dejó sin palabras.

—N-no es lo que vi —tu voz sonaba entrecortada a la vez que buscabas una explicación lógica.

—Pero, ¿qué viste? —Steve preguntó con preocupación, él tampoco podía creer lo que las cámaras mostraban.

—Brock…

—Pero está muerto.

—Lo sé. Había escuchado rumores de que cosas así pasaban en Halloween, pero creía que eran simples historias para asustar a los niños —comentaste sin dejar de estar asustada, simplemente porque no sabias como luchar contra lo que había aparecido.

Steve bajó, estaba decidido a enfrentar a la amenaza, abrió la puerta, pero no encontró a nadie, observó con cuidado, incluso, la calle se veía diferente, demasiado solitaria para época, no eran ni las once de la noche aún, definitivamente algo extraño estaba ocurriendo.

Veías las cámaras con atención, aunque no entendías porqué Steve no hacía nada, si el demonio estaba frente a él… fue cuando entendiste lo que ocurría…

—¡Steve cierra la puerta de inmediato y por nada la vuelvas a abrir! —gritaste, probablemente el demonio estaba intentando entrar a la casa.

Steve cerró de inmediato y volteó a verte buscando una explicación.

—Solo tenemos que esperar a que amanezca y todo volverá a la normalidad —dijiste.

[dayinity]

introduction <3

hey i’m jaycee and i’m new to tumblr. i just started writing. i will list my boundaries down here 🤍

fandoms i write abt:

avatar 2009 and twow

jake sully

neytiri

ronal

tonowari

tsireya

ao’nung

lo’ak

kiri

tuktirey (platonically)

roxto

ao’nung’s friends

norm

trudy

tsu’tey

grace

miles quaritch

you’re welcome to request any characters i haven’t listed if you’d like :)

stranger things

eleven

mike

will

lucas

dustin

erica (platonically)

nancy

steve

eddie (no smut bc i hate this man)

billy

robin

joyce

mrs. wheeler

hopper

enzo

yuri

the boys:

homelander

billy butcher

hughie campbell

annie january (starlight)

earving (black noir)

marvin milk (mothers milk/m.m)

serge (frenchie)

kimiko (the female)

reginald franklin (a-train)

ryan butcher (platonically)

gen v

marie moreau

luke riordan

sam riordan

cate dunlap

andre anderson

emma meyer

jordan li

suicide squad

harley quinn

rick flag

bloodsport

deadshot

killer croc

captain boomerang

ratcatcher 2

peacemaker

el diablo

king shark

—

i will do smut, angst, & fluff. i will not do smut for minors or disgusting matters. the farthest i will go for teens is a kiss or making out. i won’t do pedophilia, incest, or any of that shit. please be specific with requests, and if i haven’t listed characters or fandoms, feel welcome to ask about them. 🫶🏽

[ao3-diablofic]

by darkdirtyalfa

—¿Qué sucedió? —¿Qué es lo último que recuerdas? —El Muro de los Lamentos, el que fuimos encerrados. Ella asintió. —Permanecieron un largo tiempo encerrados, sí. Pero, digamos que por designio de los dioses han regresado a la vida. —¿Qué dioses? Ella suspiró y lo miró a los ojos. —No creo que se suponga que debería de ser yo quien te cuente esto, pero la verdad es que tampoco hicimos un plan para cuando despertaran. —¿Despertaramos? La joven se sentó en la cama y se mordió el labio inferior. —Derribaron el Muro de los Lamentos. Seiya y sus amigos atravesaron y llegaron a los Elíseos. Pelearon contra Hades y ganaron. Saga asintió: lo esperaba. —Seiya… mató a Hades.

Los Santos Dorados han sido revividos, por designio de los dioses, 100 años después de sus muertes. Están a punto de ir a enfrentarse a un nuevo enemigo.

Este fic es un crossover con el videojuego Diablo II. No es necesario que sepan nada de él, las cosas se irán explicando poco a poco, pero es básicamente los Santos en ese juego, porque pensé que sería una buena idea ver cómo sus poderes podrían ser usados en ese mundo.

Eventualmente habrá romance y smut.

Parte 1 de 2 o 3

Words: 6931, Chapters: 1/8, Language: Español

Series: Part 1 of Time Of Destruction

Fandoms: 聖闘士星矢 | Saint Seiya Series, 聖闘士星矢 | Saint Seiya (Manga & Anime 1986), Diablo (Video Games)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M, Gen, Multi

Characters: Gemini Saga, Gemini Kanon, Aries Mū, Aries Shion, Taurus Aldebaran, Cancer Deathmask, Leo Aiolia, Virgo Shaka, Libra Dohko, Scorpio Milo, Sagittarius Aiolos, Capricorn Shura, Aquarius Camus, Pisces Aphrodite, Tyrael (Diablo series), Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Child Character(s)

Relationships: Gemini Saga/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Romance, Comedy, Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual Relationships, diablo 2 - Freeform, diablo gameplay, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crossover, Friendship

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56902897

[mybworlds]

Chapter 1

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… so here we are… I am very excited and nervous to write about this story 'cause I really care 'bout it. 🙏 I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. If you want to follow my new fanfiction, I appreciate it 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

If there's one thing you really can't stand it's Monday mornings, not finding coffee on your desk in the office, not being able to catch a criminal after a long investigation that has taken you so much time and energy, you are in the office and you persistently look at the documentation related to Alvaro Monteiro, also known as 'El Diablo,' a drug dealer known in South America but also in half of the European countries, now also infamous for exploitation of prostitution and organ trafficking in countries like Mexico and Argentina.

You shake your head trying to bring order to the few testimonies about his movements, sightings, and the last deals he conducted; those who could really talk are afraid for their relatives and their own lives; those who talk more are found with a bullet in their head somewhere.

You hold your head in your hands watching the faces of all the young women, men and even children caught up in this so far endless trail of blood and death. You don't know when you will arrest Monteiro, but you know one thing for sure, you will not let up until you catch him. They wouldn't call you Bulldog like that.

Everyone whispers this nickname of yours because of your determination at work and then because, if you start pursuing a case, it becomes your priority even over your own life. None of your colleagues, however, has ever dared to openly call you that. With the exception of your insufferable colleague Javier Peña.

Speaking of him, he's a huge pain in the ass, a huge Don Juan who is convinced he can have everyone at his feet with that grin and his dark eyes always ready to look seductively at anyone who comes his way. He even hit on you once, but you told him everything you thought about him, about his absurd ways of getting information about investigations, about how he slept with half the office and all of them, even though they had been dumped by him, kept kissing the ground he walked on!

That's crazy.

By the way, here he comes into the office, agent Peña, hair perfectly coiffed, glasses on his nose, winking smile, and everyone looking at him dreamily, you roll your eyes and shake your head to go back to looking at the Monteiro dossier.

"Good mornin'." he greets you in a detached tone.

By the way, you and Peña can't stand each other. Not because you stood him up, or maybe even because of that, but because both of you were engaged on the Monteiro case a couple of years earlier. You each had your own method of investigation, as you do now for that matter, and you ended up pointing a gun at each other losing your target and then blaming each other in front of your boss. Your boss removed you from the case.

From that moment on, Peña treats you frostily, if he has to spite you he does, if he has to tell you a nasty thing he tells you, he doesn't think twice about it, if he has any news he keeps it to himself and reports it to your superior making you look like an amateur always bent over papers and little in action.

"Good mornin', Agent Peña," you greet him in the same tone.

Within a year of being removed from the case, however, Peña continued to keep his female informants - mostly prostitutes - on the alert about all that might be his movements, you for your part have always kept an eye on money movements and possible strange transfers from American to Mexican banks and vice versa, all of which led your boss to reassign both of you the case, making you promise to cooperate and share any information that either of you might obtain. Collaboration that has not happened so far, however, not entirely, at least.

Peña lays his palms on the documentation you were sifting through forcing you to look up at him, looking at you insistently with his huge dark eyes with the expression of someone who is studying someone intensely.

You sigh, "What do you want?" you ask him.

"Just to inform you," he replies.

You lean your back against the chair and raise your eyebrows as if to invite him to continue, you cross your arms "That would be news!" you exclaim in an icy tone "I'm all ears."

"Monteiro has been spotted in Paloma Beach, France."

You widen your eyes, spreading your lips wide, he smiles in that annoyed grin.

"Peña. Speak up. Now." you tell him, looking him straight in the eye.

He leans against the desk "I'm glad to have your attention," he says crossing his arms in a satisfied expression of someone who got to a race first "I thought you were too focused on staring at the paper…"

"Peña, you have my attention and if you don't talk right now I'm going to kick your ass and throw you out of my office!" you threaten him in an icy tone "So?"

He sighs, "Always in a good mood, I see!"

"Always a stupid and misplaced sarcasm," you retort using the same tone.

"Whatever," he says showing a green folder in his hands "Monteiro has been spotted in France, in Saint - Jean - Cap - Ferrat." he's telling you, because you're too eager to read news about the narco-trafficker, you get up from your chair and make to pull the clipboard away from him, but he's faster than you and pulls it away from your reach. You almost end up against him, you're within an arm's length of his angular nose and those dark pools, you both immediately retreat. He clears his throat and then resumes, "I was saying, Monteiro has been spotted there and according to this informant of mine he will be there for the next few summer months."

"When would the informant have told you these things?" you ask him raising an eyebrow.

"Does it matter?" he asks you raising an eyebrow as well.

No, not really considering how she must have gotten this information. You don't want to hear him say it, you are bothered by this display of how able he's to get his informants to talk and get comfortable and then get them to confess what he wants to know. No, thank you.

"Have you told Diáz yet?" you ask him, furrowing your brow.

"Claro." he answers you raising his eyebrows with a satisfied air.

"Cabrón." you answer him curtly.

You don't speak Spanish, but obviously living in those parts of South America you had to learn and especially you had to learn how to respond in tone to Peña's exclamations who likes to retort punctually in Spanish. In the early days he was doing it on purpose to retort in Spanish having realized you didn't understand Spanish and who knows how many he must have said to you and you didn't even understand them, but from the moment you started studying Spanish, you started responding in tone leaving him surprised in the early days, then it became a habit of yours to retort on each other with Spanish barbs.

"Muy bien, shall we go?" he asks you.

"Where?"

"Diáz of course! Did you have your coffee this morning, agent?" he asks as he gets up from your desk and adjusts his dark pants.

"And did you ever go to sleep?" you ask him making to head for the door. He does before you, however, and opens the door for you, then makes a hand gesture at which you roll your eyes and snort.

"Let it not be said that agent Peña is not a gentleman!" he exclaims.

"You're supposed to be a gentleman with all the poor girls you screw and then quit!" you exclaim. You just can't stand it, you can't help it.

Diáz is your boss, a man of about fifty, sturdy build, graying hair, big eyes with thick lenses on his nose, he wants everything to work perfectly in his department.

"Sir." you say as you enter his office.

"Sir." Peña greets as he enters the office closing the door "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, thank you for coming, agents. I know you are both involved in the Monteiro case and as we know Monteiro has now become a world class criminal. I am in contact with departments in other countries and it's been confirmed that he is in France." he pauses "Do you speak French?"

You wrinkle your forehead, "Sir?"

"I need two agents - you -" he says pointing at both of you "to go there in the field in Saint - Jean - Cap - Ferrat to investigate undercover."

"Sir, with all due respect," you continue "but this is perhaps a CIA job-- we-- we are just DEA agents." you state externalizing your concern "We don't have the proper training to…"

"Agent," Diáz resumes, "I understand your fear, but the Monteiro case has become important to all of us. Monteiro could be in France today, the day after he disappeared from circulation again, it's too important for us to catch him."

You watch Peña in the hope of getting his support, but you see him thoughtfully "They will find out right away that we are agents, they might-" you are about to say they might kill you right away or torture you to figure out what you know and then kill you, but it's Peña who interrupts your stream of thought "When are we going to get him?"

Diáz smiles, "Have a seat, now I will explain everything."

Diáz explains to you in hand that you will not be completely alone, there will be CIA men who will be ready to intervene if you deem it necessary. He also explains to you that you will change your names, you will be Blanca Torres and Peña will be Diego Torres, and the role you will have to play. Diáz explains to you you will be two newlyweds on honeymoon ready to enjoy the sea, the sun, but your true goal will be to approach Monteiro and try to understand his plans and catch him.

"Todo claro? " asks your superior.

"Si." replies Peña.

"Está bien, aquí están sus pasaportes. Nadie te hará preguntas en el aeropuerto, pero sé discreto." continues Diáz in Spanish.

"¿Cuándo nos iremos?" you ask him not at all enthusiastically.

"In two days, just enough time to get the final paperwork in order. Needless to say, be discreet, don't ask too many questions around and play smart." he tells you again "Remember your roles and you won't fail." he adds taking your leave.

When Peña closes the office door behind him, you throw yourself into your chair with a despondent air "What do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" he asks you crossing his arms and furrowing his brow.

"Peña, you and I can't stand each other and now we have to pretend to be husband and wife, I don't know if you got that!" you exclaim nervously.

"Sure, Blanca. Or would you prefer, amor?" he asks smiling at you with that slapping face of him.

You roll your eyes; you don't know how you're going to stand him! You hope to catch Monteiro in a few days and put an end to that charade as soon as possible.

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 if you want to be added let me know, if you liked this first part, leave a comment, like or reblog, if you didn't like it, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

[endyourpartofthestory]

Fanfic struggles

Reading smut:

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Reading fluff:

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