#scarface x reader

[stvolanis]

Hello! I love your writing!

Could I ask for a Tony shot where he is being intimate with the reader and it's her first time and he is very sweet and gentle? Would love to see that side of him. Ty!❤️

Hi anon! Thank you sm for this request, i love writing about Tony<3

Soft Lovin’

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Tony Montana x Virgin!Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, harassment in the workplace, killing (not graphic), Tony is kind of manipulative? Idk how to explain it I’m sorry😭

NSFW WARNINGS: Virgin!Reader, soft Dom!Tony, making out, groping, fingering, heavy praise, cream pie, oral (f receiving), light overstimulation, possessive Tony

sorry if I missed anything! This also isn’t proofread

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

It was a long, fast night at one of the hottest casinos/clubs in Miami, Florida.

You’d just started working as a bartender, just barely turning 21 and in need of a paying job. A friend of yours, Angelina recommended it to you. She said it was a easy way to make money. Just smile, make the drinks, and serve them. But you wish she would’ve told you about the following stares of all of the men in the room.

They followed you everywhere you went, all over your body, shamelessly roaming. It felt as though they’d pounce at any second they could. It was a policy that the men here couldn’t touch you unless you verbally consented to it, but you don’t think they really cared about that rule all that much.

An arm snaked around your waist, and you froze in horror as a man, with breath that smelled of pure tequila, whispered in your ear. “Y-you shhouldd come home wi-with me!” He slurred as his friends chuckled behind him. You felt tears like your eyes as you shoved him away from you. “What the hell is your problem?!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t take that well.

His brows furrowed with clear distaste. “Woooah, baby, no needdd to be a bitch.” He growled out, his breath smelled gawd awful and it made your stomach churn. His arm felt grimy when it was wrapped around you, and now that you look at him, he looked like a crackhead.

His face had scabs all over it, along with scratches that you could tell were from him clawing at his own skin. He had teeth missing, and the ones he had left were different shades of yellow, brown and black. His skin was greasy, as was his overgrown mullet that looked damn near matted on the top. He was thin as twigs, and you could visibly see his bones anywhere you looked over him.

He was the most revolting creature you’d ever seen. He was a dirty, smelly man, and now you felt all dirty and smelly.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” You bit out. Suddenly, the man reached out and grabbed your arm in a painful grip that was sure to bruise, and you yelped out as you tried to push him away from you. “Stop fightingg against me y-you whore!” He choked out.

You’re waterline formed fresh tears that began to spill over, then all the sudden, you were ripped away from him and into the arms of another, more warm person.

You peered up at the man slightly; he was short, but still taller than you were. His hair was a dark brown, a chocolate color and short. It was kinda messy, and you wanted to run your fingers through it to try to fix it. You took notice of the scar that ran along his eye. It was beautiful. Something that was surely a painful experience, yet it looked so pretty on him.

He was ruggedly handsome. A little rough around the edges, sure, but he was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. His hands were thick and calloused, and on his fingers laid beautiful rings that were probably worth more than your life.

You thought that he was foreign, and when he spoke, it seemed you must’ve been right. “Fuck are ya’ doin, huh, man?” He huffed out to the crack head bothering you. “You fuckin’ with a lady jus’ tryna’ do her job? Eh?” He growled out as he lightly pushed you aside, going chest to chest with the other man who was slightly taller than him.

“Woah, Tony, i-I don’t want no trouble, man!” He replied, his hands flying up in surrender as he almost tripped over his own two feet walking backwards, trying to create distance between him and the short, angry man. “Turn around and don’t look over here.” He told you, sparing you a glance.

You did as told, as he seemed to be your savior, but you couldn’t ignore the loud, blaring sound of a gun shot ringing through the air.

You covered your ears and flinched as you let out a yelp. The ringing in your ears hurt, and your breathing became uneven as you felt hands gently remove your hands from your ears. “You’re alright, baby.” Tony muttered softly in your ear.

He had been eyeing you all night, and truthfully, he was no better than any of the men here when it came to the staring. But, the thing that separated him from them, was that he would never come onto a woman who didn’t want him.

You were a small, dainty little thing. He had no idea what you were doing in a place as filthy as this. Even when he was watching her from afar, he could see her little body trembling. The way her hands would tighten when she passed by men. The snarls women sent her. She flinched at every little thing.

When he had grabbed you from away from that man, your scent flooded his senses. You smelled of lily’s and vanilla, and a hint of whisky. He was sure the whiskey part came from when he’d seen you spill it all over yourself earlier on accident after nearly tripping over your own two feet. He thought it was cute, though.

You reminded him of a deer. So pretty, and fragile. Curious or everything you shouldn’t be. Flinching at the littlest things. Even when he faintly heard you speak earlier, your voice was so soft spoken and sounded like velvet on his ears.

His little Bambi.

So when he was ‘casually’ at the bar ordering a drink and he noticed that man harassing you, obviously he’d see this as his chance to come and swoop you off of your feet. He had this all planned out, you falling into his arms right where he wanted you.

And now as he stood behind you, your back to his chest in ragged breaths with lingering gun smoke in the air and the sound of people screaming and running, he knew he had you where he wanted you.

“You’re alright, Bambi.” He muttered sweetly into your ear. Your head whipped around, and he felt his heart thud in his chest as you met face to face with him. Your eyes glimmered under the club lights, but the tears in them made your doe eyes all the more beautiful to him.

“W-what..what did you do? What happened?” You asked, your trembling voice barely above a whisper. Almost as if you were afraid that if you talked to loud, something else would happen. “Nothin’, don’t worry ‘bout it. All that matters is that your safe now.” He replied.

“I-I need to go.” You muttered as you pushed yourself away from him. You were slipping away from him, and he didn’t like the idea of that very much. This resulted in him grabbing your hand softly. “I—let me make sure you get home safe, yeah? C’mon.” He told you.

You hesitated for a moment. A strange, foreign man who just killed someone for harassing you wants to make sure you get home safe. Sounds promising. “Okay.” You sighed as you walked out of the front door and out into the parking lot, the man following closely behind.

He led you to his car, opening the door for you to make sure you got in properly before getting in himself. “can you at least tell me what your name is?” You huffed out as you put on your seatbelt. He chuckled as he glanced at you, starting the vehicle. “Antonio Montana.” He told you after a moment. “But people jus’ call me Tony.” He added.

He had a dorky kind of smile when he said it, and it made a smile of your own form. “I’m—“ you started, but you didn’t get the chance to finish. “I know who you are, baby.” He said.

Your face bloomed red. “You’re not from here, are you?” You suddenly asked. He smiled. “I’m from Cuba.” He said. It made sense now, his accent was thick, and it made your legs squeeze together, which he didn’t fail to notice. “Oh.” Was all you said with a nod of understanding.

“Whddya doin’ in that place, anyway?” He asked. You sighed as you pushed your hair back from your face. “Needed the money. A friend said it would be easy.” You frowned. Tony clicked his tongue. “Need new friends.” He said with a chuckle.

“I—will you be my friend, Tony?” You asked. You didn’t really know why you asked, but he saved you tonight; and it would be nice to have more friends. “No.” He said, and your mouth hung agape. Guess not then.

“Wha—why?” You stuttered out with furrowed brows as your body shifted to better look at him. He inhaled sharply before his eyes pierced into yours. “Can’t be friends with someone I wanna fuck, baby.” He said, his voice deep. It sounded like he was restraining himself from saying more.

Your mouth hung open and your cheeks reddened. “I’ve—I don’t—“ you stuttered, embarrassment consuming you. The car halted sharply at large gates as his head snapped to you. “You’re a virgin.” He said, matter of factly.

You nodded as you broke eye contact with him. You heard him whisper a breathless ‘fuck’, but it slipped passed your mind as the large gates opened, and as you drove forward, a large mansion revealed itself.

You were lower-middle class, just barely scraping by. Never in your life did you ever think that a random foreign man who just so happened to be one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen would kill someone for you, tell you he wants to have sex with you, and then proceed to take you to his mansion.

“Holy shit.” You muttered. You were gawking like a peasant, but you didn’t care. The closer you got to the house, the bigger it got. It was unnecessarily big, but the men stationed outside with guns didn’t go unnoticed to your prying eyes.

“What in the hell do you do, Tony?” You asked as he stopped the car in front of the house. He stepped out and opened your door for you, his hand gently holding yours to stable you. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He said.

And you weren’t gonna question him any further than that.

He lead you into his large home, and you were struck. Everything was red with hints of gold, and straight forward stood a large globe with the words ‘the world is yours’ on it. He led you up the stairs with a gentle hand to your back, directing you where to go.

You turned left and he stopped you at a large white door. “You can stay in here, take a shower n shit, I’ll be the next room over.” He said as he waved his hand around to the door next to yours. “Okay, thank you, Tony.” You smiled, to which he returned before walking to his room.

You entered the room, and surprisingly, it was different shades of purple. The walls were a dark purple with gold trim, and it looked beautiful. There was a large bed with lilac and dark purple bedding that had flowers engraved on it with lace trims. There was another door across the room, and when you opened it, it revealed a large bathroom with a gold trimmed tub that was built into the ground—almost like a jacuzzi.

It was glorious, you’d never seen a bathroom of all places look this extravagant.

You stripped from your clothes that clung to your body as your turned on the water, switching it to warm. As you stepped in, it felt warm against your skin; just what you needed after the bullshit you encountered today.

Suddenly, the door opened, making you gasp and cover yourself with your hands. In walked Tony with a knowing smirk on his face. “Sorry, baby, forgot to mention we share a bathroom.” He chucked out as he began to undress himself. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked as you eyed him.

His body was toned and fit. Hair covered his chest and arms thick, and the gold chain that hung on his neck made you gulp. You couldn’t control yourself as your eyes looked further down, and your mouth slightly hung agape as you took in the sight before you.

His v-line was deep and his happy trail made your thighs squeeze together. He was uncut, his pink tip barely peeking through his skin. He was girthy, very girthy. The length was intimidating, and you felt like his cock was staring at you.

You absentmindedly shook your head. Your mind was spinning, and you were unsure if the feelings you felt were feelings you should have about a man you’d just met. He chuckled to himself at your reaction as he lowered himself into the tub across from you.

And for some reason, you felt yourself move your arms away from your body to stop hiding yourself from him. Tony felt himself get hard under the water from the sight of you before him.

Your body glistened with water, and the soft ripples of your skin made his jaw clench—but what really got him, was your perky nipples just barely peeking through the water. Hard, and he wished to know just how sensitive they were. Your neck was beautiful, bare. He wanted to wrap his hands around it and ruin your life, but he knew he couldn’t; not yet, at least.

“C’mere, Bambi.” He said. You hesitated for a second before making a move towards him. He gently grabbed your arm and positioned you onto his lap. You could feel his cock beneath you, hard and prominent. It rested against your cunt that clenched around nothing. “Tony..” you whispered breathlessly.

“You gon’ let me make you feel good, baby? Hm?” He muttered against your lips. The way you shook your head unbelievably fast was embarrassing, but god, did it turn the man on.

His lips met yours in a heated kiss. His lips were rough and just a little chapped against yours, but you didn’t care. His tongue prodded against your mouth, and your tongues tangled together. He sucked your tongue into his mouth, and everything about the interaction you were having right now was sloppy.

It was a mess, the way the mix of your saliva stringed onto the both of your tongues when you pulled away, just to dive right back in and continue. Your lips were swollen and red, puffy from Tony sinking his teeth down onto them in his haste of kissing.

His hands roamed your body, from groping your sensitive breasts to down your waist before resting on your plump ass. “Not gon’ fuck you here.” He said, breathlessly against your lips as he pulled the both of you up and into his bedroom.

He laid you softly onto the bed, moving your wet hair from your face. He stared at your for a moment. “Stay here. With me.” He demanded. “I’ll take care of you.” He said as his fingers traveled down, prodding at your entrance.

“Yes, anything, just please—“ you whimpered out as he slowly entered a finger into your sopping cunt. “Shh, I know.” He said as his finger began to enter you at a steady pace.

“More, please!” You told him. He clicked his tongue. “So needy. Gotta make sure you’re ready to take my cock, Bambi. Don’ wanna hurtcha.” He cooed out, holding your free hand in his, squeezing reassuringly.

You bit down onto your lip as he added in a second finger, beginning to speed up his pace. “You ever touch yourself? Hm?” He asked breathlessly as he watched the way you squeezed down onto his fingers. You nodded your head. “Cant make myself cum.” You whimpered out, your face blooming red.

He laughed mockingly. “Que hermosa.” He said. You didn’t know what that meant, but it made your stomach clench in an unfamiliar way. “Tony! I feel weird!” You gasped out, attempting to shove his hands away.

“S’okay, baby, just let go.” He said as he kissed down your stomach to your pussy that seemed to be talking to him everytime his fingers fucked into you. He sucked your throbbing bud into his mouth harshly, and the feeling in your stomach snapped as you released your juices all over his face with a loud moan.

He shook his head against your pussy, your clit still in his mouth, and you damn near screamed. He released your aching bud with a smug smile. He lifted himself up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he lined himself to your entrance.

“Wait—Tony-“ you muttered, and he halted his movements. “What’s wrong, Bambi?” He asked softly. You bit down onto your lip. “M’scared.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled. Not a mean, cocky smile; but a sweet one. “S’okay, I’ll be gentle.” He said as he kissed your forehead, down to your cute little nose, then both of your cheeks, all the way down to your chin before he finally planted a kiss to your soft lips. You felt your heart literally explode.

His tip entered you slowly, before you knew it he was half way in and the stretch was painful. You both hissed, but for different reasons. You were tight around his cock, clamping down on him with a force, nearly making it hard to move. Meanwhile, it felt like he was tearing you apart on his cock.

Your nails dug into his back as you clung onto him, your little sniffles and whimpers not going unnoticed to Tony as he kissed your shoulder. “Doin’ so good, baby. Takin’ my cock good.” He said through clenched teeth.

He was finally all the way in you, and Tony wanted to move badly, but he refrained in fear of hurting you. Tears rolled down your face, and Tony kissed them away while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“Y-you can move.” You whispered, and Tony wasted no time in slowly pulling out before gently entering you again. The pain was quickly replaced with a pleasure you’d never felt before. “Oh my god—“ you gasped out as he entered you again, a little more harsh this time.

He filled you to the hilt, and you felt as though his tip was hitting your cervix as he rutted in you. “Amazing fuckin’ pussy, shit.” He groaned out as he began pounding into you.

Your moans grew uncontrollably and your breast bounced with every thrust his hips delivered to you and you felt like you were on cloud nine. You were so full, and you couldn’t get enough of his cock.

He was completely pussy drunk and the both of you couldn’t even form coherent words. Your gummy walls were warm and sucked him in so nicely. He never wanted to leave, and he was dreading the moment he was going to have to pull out of you. Your cunt felt like it was made for him, molding perfectly just to suit him and only him.

He was going to make sure he was the only person you were ever going to fuck again. He was going to ruin you for any other man, and make sure the whole world knew that you were gonna be his woman and his alone. He was the king, and he needed his queen. And when he seen you in that lousy club, he knew you were the one.

Nice, beautiful, soft and obedient.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, along with both of your moans, and your pleading. “Love this fuckin’ pussy, s’all mine, yeah?” He said as his forehead rested against yours.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he slammed into you harder. “Ffuckkk, yes, yes, Tony, all yours!” You slurred out. He chuckled. “My good girl.” He moaned out as his hips drilled into yours at an inhumane pace.

“M’a good girl. M’your good girl.” You babbled out, not even realizing what you were saying as you nodded your head feverishly. “Gonna fill this pussy. Make you mine.” He groaned out as his thrusts became sloppy.

You felt yourself cum again, releasing your juices once again all over his lower abdomen. The way you were moaning and twitching under him, overstimulated, triggered his own release as he spurred his cum into your sloppy pussy; painting your walls white. But he didn’t stop, and his cock continued to fuck into you.

Your cunt was milking him and he wasn’t complaining. You were an uncontrollable, moaning mess under him. Your pussy was sensitive and sore by the time he finally pulled out of you, his body thumping next to you as you both laid breathlessly.

His arms pulled you into him, and being in his arms, legs tangling together, made you feel like all of this was so right. So perfect. He was so perfect.

You’d never be able to get enough of him after this, and Tony knew he was done for. The both of you craved each other more than anything you’d ever craved.

You fell asleep in his arms that night, the last thing you felt was Tony press a kiss to your temple and the world around you went dim.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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#scarface #scarface x reader #al pacino #stvolanis #tony montana smut #tony montana x reader #tony montana #scarface smut #al pacino x reader #smut #imagine #scarface movie #al pacino smut

[a-boca-do-inferno]

beija minha boca até me matar (tony montana x reader) [request]

summary: Tony is stressed and you are tired.

warnings: angst, swearing, abuse and sort of fluff.

words: 0.8k

notes: this is small and very anemic plot wise, so im sorry for that. loosely based on doce vampiro by rita lee.

Sometimes you wondered if your love would stop enduring at some point. If no matter how much you wanted to be with him, someday your body and soul would finally give in to the exhaustion, because that’s how you felt. Exhausted. God, what time was it? It felt so long since you’ve last rested. Insomnia was a big thing these days with all the chaos around you, the gang fights, the power struggles; you understood nothing of it, but at times you wish you did. Maybe you’d be able to help Tony in the slightest, offer him some comfort. And you tried, oh, did you try. But it was just to no avail.

He was as restless as you, although he tried to disguise it as his customary anger towards the world. You could sense it whenever he was close, when his hand would tremble just a little as he gulped down a glass of whisky in one go. When the crease between his brows would become only a little bit more noticeable. When he’d only swear once, as though not even those silly words were enough to somehow soothe him anymore. You did your best to try and give him some solace, but while your kisses pleased his face, his arms would fall coldly frigid at his sides. He wasn’t in the moment, and that was so uncharacteristic of him.  

You felt helpless at those times, often choosing to leave him in his office and go to your bed, crying in silence until the sun was up again. He would spend his nights away from your room, causing you to entertain thoughts maybe about you actually being the problem, not his issues in the drug business. You never dared touch anything other than alcohol and that was perhaps something that lingered in the back of his mind, still. Would he think you’d eventually turn on him, sell him out to the police? Sometimes he’d call you “good Samaritan”, because in his own words, “you’re too clean, too good, too uptight. What the fuck are you doing with me?”, and wasn’t that the million-dollar question?  

What the fuck, indeed? 

“You rely too much on people, Manny. That’s your fucking mistake”, comes his loud, deep voice from the corridor. You close your eyes in contempt, not really wanting to listen to one of his lectures again. God bless Manny for being able to do it more than you. “I say, fuck people. I can do anything by myself.” 

“Because it’s been working so well so far”, you let it slip out, causing him to give you a death glare. Tony didn’t scare you easily, contrary to popular belief, but he could become quite scary when he felt like it. This was one of those times. 

He huffs, walking towards you slowly, “what did you just say, princess? You think you can disrespect me in my own fucking house, drinking my own fucking whisky that I bought? Is that it?”

He’s agitated, and you unconsciously flinch when he sits beside you, like a lion cornering its prey. You can’t help but shake your head, looking away from his hard eyes. “You know I don’t like when you talk to me like that”, you say softly, albeit your words carry weight to them. You don’t say them to him very often, surprisingly, but when you do… He better watch his reply. Tony knows that.

Then, there comes your answer. No matter how many times he let stress get the best of him, and no matter how many of his motivations you simply did not understand: Tony was Tony, your Tony, and he would always be. So, you let yourself be wrapped in his big arms once more in silence, simply enjoying his warmth. He felt like home and he was home, as inhabitable as he could become at given times. It was like loving a vampire. Having your life be sucked out of you everyday, yet always craving for more. A delicious poison.

So, he does. “Mi amor”, he coos immediately, his frown fading in a second when he seems to come to his senses. You are practically crawling on the couch, in fetal position, guarding yourself from his touch, and he notices this. Tony extends his rough hand and rubs your thigh gently, nuzzling your neck, trying to make you more at ease in his presence. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m fucking stupid, I’m a fucking jerk. I’m sorry”, he speaks quietly, but firmly, his deep voice vibrating on your skin.

And somehow, all exhaustion dissipated when he got closer to you, serving like a long nap after a tough day. It seemed like you were the complement to one another. Maybe that was the reason you were still here, after all.

Enduring.

#scarface x reader #tony montana x reader #al pacino x reader #al pacino #tony montana #scarface #tony montana imagine #al pacino imagine #scarface imagine

[melis-writes]

Blood Money (Tony Montana x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut) Chapter 3 – An Eye For An Eye.

Chapter 2 / Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami." / “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

Tony's fiery gaze burned into the back of your mind but your name etched on his heart from the very moment he knew who you were. Keeping you on his mind like prayer, Tony wastes no time in attempting to squeeze himself out of every interrogation at the Cuban migrant camp he and Manny are detained in. Like a power move claiming he knows you, Tony's beckoning you to meet him once more in your hometown with bold claims striking the attention of your father–one of the most notorious, wealthy businessmen of Miami–with one claim being that of love.

[WARNINGS]: None!

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: Oh my goodness, a LONG time coming and the chapter update is finally here at last!! 😭💀 I'm thrilled to update this fic again and share it with the Tony girlies! Battling writer's block and life getting super busy was a chore but I. AM. BACK and writing! And yet I must break everyone's heart again by saying this update of Blood Money officially marks my temporary hiatus of Al fics outside of The Godfather universe. 💔 I will now solely be working on my Godfather fanfics until I'm finished so I have ample time and opportunity to write more consistently and update fics even more often than I ever have. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I will finish it someday soon! For now, let's dive back into Tony and Celeste's story!! 🥺🤞🏻

With a taste for success and dollar bills, Tony Montana’s drug empire grew in vast wealth, power and influence by your side as the kingpin’s lover. From sharing an intimate history in Cuba, you and Manny Ribera were the only ones to believe and support Tony from rags to riches. Embroiled in the same lifestyle and sharing enemies, you and Tony come to build your empire and world together with the threat of it collapsing from the inside. As partnership turns to betrayal and thrill to danger, you find yourself in-between ultimatums and sacrifices for the man you love.

'I'm always in the right, man. Always am.' The shit-eating grin over Tony's face spreads equal amounts of tension and frustration throughout the interrogation room; keeping the officers on edge for word back from your family knowing Tony could potentially be a protected individual under the Navarro family while thinking at the very same time that Tony could be bullshitting everyone just to waste their time.

Tony sits all too comfortably in front of the officers with his arms crossed, all the more amused watching them huff quietly to themselves and glower back at Tony every few minutes.

"So--" Tony attempts to start a lively conversation on his behalf.

"You shut the fuck up, Montana," the first cop points his finger at Tony. "Don't say a fuckin' word."

"We're not playing with you," the second cop scowls. 

"Alright, man. Alright," Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely, "sheesh. I keep quiet when people talk on the phone, like Mama taught me, okay?"

Letting out another shaky sigh of irritation, the officers exchange a glance amongst one another, knowing well enough that if they've bothered the Navarro family for no good reason, it'll result in a guaranteed suspension without pay and likely following up with getting fired. 

Then again, there's always the possibility that it could be Tony finding himself in hot water with the Navarros due to his cockiness and stupidity, and if that means having Tony out of the refugee camp and no longer able to be a nuisance, then it'll be both a best case scenario and a relief for the officers involved. Still, it's all too much to consider at once.

"Tell the supervisor," the first cop mumbles, "he needs to know what's going on."

"Will do," the other sighs, taking a seat back at his desk to grab out his notepad.

Ignoring Tony outright, the first cop moves his stool over to the telephone by the desk and sits next to it before beginning to dial the Navarro family reception line.

'By heart?' Tony's eyes flicker with interest, noticing how the officer has your family's number memorized by heart—rendering him surprised and amused at the same time. 

'So they know her,' Tony thinks to himself. 'She not a nobody. She a somebody. I got her name on the line for me. Just for me.' 

This means more to Tony than you can already know, even if all you'll ever do is show up to spit on his face and blame him for wasting your time. The satisfaction alone is everything for him.

Both officers continue to ignore Tony and avoid making any sort of eye contact with him; murmuring ushered words to one another and pressing through more numbers on the telephone as it rings.

Only mere moments after does Tony notice how tense the officer on the telephone gets by the way his muscles jerk up in response to the telephone being answered by a monotone-voiced, middle-aged man speaking out.

"Navarro residence."

The very individual answering the phone would be your father's advisor and right-hand man, Gabriel.

"Cuban Detention Center, Officer Frank speaking," the cop says politely, clearing his throat. "May we please speak to Mr. Navarro?"

There's a short pause on the other end of the line. "Do you have a request or appointment booked in advance?"

"No," Officer Frank answers quietly. "Um, ahem—this is in relation to immigration and detention. There's a gentleman here claiming he was requested by name from a potential--" Frank scowls over at Tony. "Sponsor." 

Gabriel's tone of voice grows considerably agitated. "I trust you have a good reason for wishing to bother Mr. Navarro. You will not hear it from me."

"Greatly appreciated," Officer Frank awkwardly replies as Gabriel begins to transfer the call to your father's personal telephone.

Fully aware of the telephone conversation ongoing with Gabriel, your father—Darren Navarro--is two stories up in his penthouse—still in his Versace morning robe, smoking a Cuban cigar.

His first words to Officer Frank once the line transfer is, "You better have a good reason for reaching my personal number, Frank."

"Oh yes sir, o-of course," Frank stammers. "I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to interrupt your day, but this is urgent."

"So you say so," your father is unmoved by the sudden sense of urgency. "I suppose it is coming from the immigration and refugee department. I've sponsored nobody, so what is all of this?"

Officer Frank's skin drains of color as he nervously exchanges a glance with his colleague, glumly shaking his head. "Um, sir, there was a mention of your daughter's name by a Cuban migrant."

Your father raises a brow, leaning back on his velvet chaise. Your last trip to Cuba and mentions of "Tony Montana" and "Manny Ribera" easily come to Darren's mind. 

"Interesting," Darren muses. "And what is this individual's name?"

"Tony Montana," Tony speaks up loud and clear, grinning. "And with my best friend, Manny Ribera."

"Shut the fuck up!" The second cop hisses, almost jumping out from behind his desk to hit Tony.

Darren's all very well aware Tony is in the same room and must know who he is by now, having heard everything. 

"Uh huh," your father chuckles. "I see."

"Sorry, sir. I'm so sorry," Frank scoffs, swallowing hard.

"Stop your whining," Darren rolls his eyes. "I heard the man loud and clear. This is no request for me but for my daughter then."

"The migrant claims to know Celeste Navarro personally, sir." Frank clears his throat.

"Yes, he does. That much is true," your father nods.

"May we speak to Celeste, sir?"

"No need," Darren brushes off the request, glancing towards his bedroom door. "Celeste will soon be on her way to greet both gentlemen personally.

"This man--" Frank begins, but is abruptly cut off and corrected by your father.

"Men," your father clarifies, refusing to exclude Manny. "There are two of them after all, so Celeste will see both. She knows both of them, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Darren blows out the smoke from his cigar around him, resting his cigar between his fingers as he admires the afternoon light glistening over his gold rings and jewelry. "Treat these men well. I'm aware of the reputation your detention center has and its demands. 'Gentle' is not in your vocabulary so be respectful. These are friends of the Navarro family and I expect them to be treated as such."

"Yes, sir..." Mortified, the officers stare in shock at a smirking Tony before your father hangs up on them.

~

Giving a drawn-out sigh, you roll your eyes in annoyance at the back cover of the gossip magazine you’ve been reading; already questioning why you bother with the tabloids just to entertain you.

Flipping back to the front cover of a bikini model on Miami beach, you rest your chin over your fist, wearing a flowing, pastel pink satin nightgown—laying on your stomach and dangling your feet, attempting to beat boredom.

Frank Sinatra’s “All By Myself” plays softly on your white and gold decorated record player, a compliment to the similar colors lavishly decorated over your bedroom.

Practically the size of a house’s first floor, your bedroom itself spans 1,500 square feet and is fit for a princess, covered in various shades of pink with a glimmering diamond chandelier above you.

The very king-size bed you lounge upon is adorned with a bubble-gum pink cashmere and quilt duvet and six silk encased pillows, a polar bear throw in the center of your bedroom upon the marble floors striking attention to the wall fixtures and architecture of the bedroom taking inspiration from the Palace of Versailles.

You furrow your brows in annoyance at the magazine in your hands, only to have your thought suddenly interrupted by the sound of your father knocking on your door.

You peek up in interest, brushing a curtain of your hair back. “Come in.”

“Hi, darling,” your father enters your room with a warm smile—holding a glass of iced rum in one hand and concealing something in his fist with the other. “Didn’t think I’d be giving you good news so quick, eh?”

Chuckling, your father opens his fist and lightly tosses your car keys over to you.

Reaching your arm out, you snatch the car keys mid-air—staring at your father in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Your new boyfriend is in Miami,” your father says with a laugh. “Immigration services at the Cuban refugee camp called me just earlier.”

“Huh,” you blink, rubbing your temple as your memory recollects, hitting you all at once.

“I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face.”

‘Tony Montana.’ Your face flushes red as you clear your throat, glancing up at your father. “They called you?”

“Mhmm,” your father nods, taking a small sip from his drink. “Quick to it, I’ll give them that. I don’t think that Tony of yours has been there for very long from the sounds of it. They wanted to reach you, actually.”

“Makes sense of course,” you slide aside your magazine, sitting up in bed. “Great…”

“What do you think?” Your father raises a brow.

“I’m not thinking of anything,” you give your head a shake.

“No? You sure you don’t owe this Tony and his friend a favor or two?”

“I don’t owe anyone anything,” you roll your eyes out of frustration. “But for Tony,” you clutch your car keys, “if he wants to see me, I’ll go see him. I’ll see him, but I don’t know what I can do for him.”

“Is this really someone worth wriggling out of months worth of paperwork and getting into the front of the line? ‘Cause I’ll let you decide that,” your father shrugs. 

Getting off of your bed, you eye your purse from across the bedroom. “I think I’ve already made my decision.”

“I’m sure you made the right one,” your father turns back on his heel.

“Is Tony waiting for me right now?” You head over to your walk-in closet.

“He is,” your father confirms, placing his hand over your doorknob to close the door behind him. “And I think you’re the only person he wants to see right now.”

~

‘Tony Montana…’ You let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against your car’s headrest. ‘Again and so soon.’ With great effort, you push aside the fluttering feeling in your heart every time Tony’s name and face cross your mind; clearing your throat and putting your Armani sunglasses on.

Starting up your Mercedes-Benz 380SL Convertible and pulling out of your estate’s parking lot carefully, you focus on nothing but getting directly to immigration services—able to collect your thoughts.

Letting the warm summer breeze flow through your hair as you step on the gas, determined to know just why Tony’s got your name mixed up with the law.

You may not have taken the rugged, cocky stranger very seriously back in Cuba but you’d be lying to yourself right now if you said you weren’t a little intimidated by Tony’s timing.

‘Didn’t think my name would cross your lips so soon either… Full of surprises.’ 

Tony knows he can sit and wait in the interrogation room for an eternity to come so as long as it’s promised you’ll show up—riding off on the idea of seeing you again like a lingering high.

Driving through the streets of Miami, you tap your French tip manicure against your steering wheel patiently through every red light.

Your eyes flicker over beach-bound tourists making their way over the crosswalks, noting the impatient drivers on the other side of the intersection honking at each other and tossing cigarettes out the window; the scent of body odor and beer not far from the beach itself.

Giving your head a shake, you scrunch your nose in disgust and drive off—not far from reaching the secluded immigration center from downtown.

You arrive a little over ten minutes later, driving into the clearance section with the rest of the other drivers waiting their turn to speak with an officer at the booth and be admitted. 

Resting your arm on the windowpane of your car, you peek your head out of the window just enough for your face to be seen, and just as you expected, you’re recognized by an officer at a booth opposite from you almost instantaneously. 

‘Uh huh.’ Noticing the officer blocking the path of the upcoming car who was next in line, you slowly drive up as he gestures for you to follow.

“How is that fucking fair?!” You hear a honk and shout of irritation from the other driver, simply ignoring him and continuing to cautiously drive up.

“Blow it out your ass, buddy,” the officer rolls his eyes.

Parking your car, you glance up at the officer who only gives you a brief nod and lets you through without a single word; just one of the many perks of being the daughter of one of Miami’s most notorious businessmen.

“Alright,” you mutter under your breath as you approach the guarded parking lot, seeing another officer heading directly your way. ‘Let’s see what this is really all about.’

Taking off your sunglasses, you make eye contact with the officer who furrows his brows at you in confusion; more than likely wondering how you got in so quickly and just who you are to be taking priority over anyone else.

“And who might you be?” The officer asks smugly.

“I think you know who I am,” you reply back coyly. “I’m here for Tony Montana.”

~

As smug and prideful as he can be, Tony slouches in his seat with his arms crossed and completely relaxed as if he’s the one arranging the interrogation rather than being interrogated. 

As apparent as the officers make it seem to Tony how thoroughly pissed, exhausted, and anxious they are dealing with him, Tony reflects it with his nonchalant attitude on purpose.

“You think you’re taking some sort of vacation, Montana?” Officer Frank scowls.

 “Sure, man,” Tony shrugs his shoulders loosely. “I think my vacation is on the way.”

Ignoring the immigration officer who escorts you inside the facility as some mock bodyguard, you make your way towards the entrance of the interrogation offices where the officer gestured you to, making note of the maximum-security gates and barbed wire high walls.

Giving a small huff of annoyance and adjusting your hair, you approach a narrow hallway inside the next building and set your sunglasses on your head.

“This way, please,” the officer guiding you murmurs and politely steps in front of you.

Unphased and hardly listening, you follow the officer until you both reach an interrogation door marked “11B”.

You maintain your distance from both the officer and the door as the officer leans over and quickly knocks on the door not to ask to come in but to signal his entrance.

A wide, playful grin spreads over Tony’s face as he turns his head back to face the door—absolutely thrilled to see it about to open in front of him.

Fear simmers back into the officers the moment they spot a feminine silhouette behind the tinted glass of the door, instantly remembering now more than ever that their jobs are on the line.

Pushing open the door, the officer guiding you inside steps in first and out of your way—clearing his throat to speak out, “Miss Celeste Navarro is here, sir.”

‘Celeste Navarro…’ Seeing you before him once more, Tony’s pupils widen as a strong surge of attraction hits him—coursing through his veins.

Tony’s muscles tighten and he feels the heat of arousal trickling inside of him as he locks eyes with you, stunned and utterly admiring every inch of your figure.

Attempting to look at you with more humility than defeat or nervousness, the officers are put off by your very presence and can say or do nothing as you cross your arms; expectant and domineering before everyone else.

You’re the only spot of color in the otherwise dull room filled with grey uniforms and sweaty men; dressed in an Armani, pastel pink, cropped tweed blazer, a matching mini skirt, a white chiffon Calvin Klein blouse with a bow at your collar and four-inch glossy nude pumps. 

“There she is, she’s the one,” Tony smirks at you—breaking the momentary silence in the room.

“Ahem,” Officer Frank clears his throat, beginning to sit upright in his seat. “You know this man, miss?”

“Do I?” You raise a brow, unamused. “It feels like I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Yes, baby,” Tony mutters to himself inaudibly. ‘Come to me. You’re here now.’

“Miss Navarro,” the other officer begins to speak up awkwardly, “apologies if this is an intrusive question however this man claims to know you and—”

”And she’s my fiancée, as I was telling you. Okay, man?” Tony interrupts, rolling his eyes. “Can I have some privacy with my fiancée, man?”

‘Fiancee? What the hell is he talking about?’ Struck into shock by Tony’s words, you hold your posture and expression, but you know where Tony’s coming from and just why he’s deciding to play this game with you now.

“Yes, so what?” You snap back, noticing the playful twinkle in Tony’s eyes. “It’s true, he is my fiancée.”

‘Tony… I hope you know what you’re doing. I swear… Now is not the time to put on a show.’ 

The officers stare at each other in utter discomfort, remaining silent. 

“But I don’t recall that being anyone’s business except mine,” you narrow your eyes at them, taking a step forward to Tony.

Tony takes your soft hand in his, caressing his thumb over the back of your hand softly. “See?”

“Well,” Officer Frank swallows hard, “if that’s the case—”

Your eyes snap open in shock as Tony leans up in his seat, suddenly cupping both of your cheeks and immediately pulling you into a crushing, deep kiss.

‘Oh!’ Your lips collide over his and your eyes flutter shut in response, feeling the warmth of his tongue teasing the tip of yours in loving passion without a care—ensnared in the moment of having you as his fiancée with no intentions of letting go. 

#scarface #scarface 1983 #al pacino #tony montana #tony montana x reader #tony montana x reader smut #tony montana x oc #tony montana smut #scarface x reader #scarface x reader smut #blood money fic #blood money fanfic

[rosesloveletters]

Slow Dancing.

pairing: Tony Montana x Reader

word count: 3,304

warnings: language (Tony himself deserves a warning label)

summary: As reader and Tony settle in to their new life of luxury, they find less and less time to spend with each other; reader and Tony reconvene on the open-air balcony, brought together by the press of their bodies, soft music and strong-willed determination.

notes: let me preface this by saying: I wasn’t going to post this. I doubt anyone’s going to read this so I’ll keep my notes brief. I’ve wanted to write about Tony for a little over a month now & this is my first attempt. I don’t know why I felt the need to write this, but what can I say? I had fun & that’s the most important part I guess. Enjoy~

You expelled a breath of air you’d been holding in your lungs for far too long; you were finally alone and you liked it that way, for the most part. Tonight was the night that all your inner demons crashed to a head, like the harsh, undulating waves against the hot sands of Miami beach, and came crawling out from the cracks of your outward façade to visit you unpleasantly under cover of night. These greedy, gluttonous spirits devoured your confidence, self-worth and left behind no more than a hollow shell; once ready to take on the world, you now bent and bowed beneath the weight of your own anxiety and stress like willow branches reaching towards the Earth in melancholy regalement. It wasn’t until the night came and you found yourself alone and occupying one of the quiet balconies at the rear of the large estate that your mind had begun to process all that you attempted to push aside. With nowhere else to turn, your thoughts blazed through your cognition with dizzying rapture, formidable with the pressure they caused inside your skull. Your brain pulsed as if from headache, but you felt no pain aside from the crippling realization of how alone you finally were and how little you were enjoying it now.

The swelteringly humid nighttime Floridian air only added to your discomfort, but the night sounds soothed your aching spirit and the gentle breeze blowing in from the northeast made it tolerable enough to stand being outside for longer than a full minute. You felt trapped indoors most of the time, desperate to free yourself from that stage of captivity like a tiger pacing the length of its ill-suited enclosure. Perhaps that very turmoil within yourself had led to you acquiring control over Tony’s large, exotic feline and provided it with the natural habitat it needed in order to thrive, one which you could not give to yourself and therefore could only be given to the next best and deserving living being.

Tony had not fought you on this, grateful was he to have your help on something he did not have time away from his work to handle himself. You were aware how helpless he felt sometimes, as if he believed he possessed the capability of handling everything on his own and could not rely on anyone else to keep things up to par and meet his necessary standards. That belief and strain on his personal resources rendered itself into helplessness when he concluded that he could not, in fact, do as much as he liked to think he could all on his lonesome.

However, Tony despised handing things off to you that were not your responsibility and even though he thought it was important that you had something worth working for, he wanted your life to remain as uncomplicated as possible. He wanted to provide for you, yet the importance of self-discipline and hard work was a lesson he wanted you to respect as much as he did.

He did not see what you saw, all the little tasks which continued to pile up that often fell by the wayside; no one else remembered to take care of them and you found yourself responsible for more things than you felt plausible for one person to handle and keep up with comfortably. Someone had to do them, you reminded yourself, and Tony was already more than busy with more than he could even handle. You both had wanted this, you often reminded yourself, and you were not the type to sit around all day without a care in the world.

Hiring household workers was always an option; with the money he had, Tony could pay anyone to do just about anything, and you knew that he would if only you should say the word, but that was not the way you had been raised. Early in life you had been taught the importance of having independence and responsibility without relying on someone else to clean up your messes. It was something which impressed Tony, albeit frustrated him about you. You kept yourself busy and felt it important to always do so. You won some and lost some, you supposed, because Tony could be as much agreeable as he was stubborn.

Only occasionally did you become so overwhelmed that you wished you could stop time and, if only for a few seconds, the world would cease turning and you’d get a moment’s peace to catch your breath. This fast-paced world was only quickening its pace from a jog to a full-on sprint and the days never seemed long enough to allow for completing every task which demanded your attention. There were times when there was less to do and you had more time for each other, but ever since Tony had bought himself this grand Miami estate and had security features installed amongst every dark, secluded corner, things had become strained like a rubber band pulled taut till it was ready to snap. His paranoia seemed to strengthen and raged within him like a wildfire; most days did he keep to himself in his office until the night came and then would he seek you out. The two of you had moments of quiet, still, or would find the time to relax in the bathtub side by side and watch whatever came on the television before retiring to your bedroom for the night.

You had decided that this night would be different.

Having put aside your unfinished list of chores, decidedly taking a well-deserved break, you turned on your stereo and left the door ajar as you stepped onto the open-air balcony and leaned on the metal railing as you peered out into the blackness beyond. As your pupils dilated to allow more light in, dark shapes in the night began to evolve into stately palm trees and other various native plant life and tended landscaping. You could hear the musical bubbling of the fountains at a distance, just above the sound of the actual music playing out in the background from beyond the open door to your back. The grounds themselves were beautiful; often did you go for walks around the villa during the day and admired the natural works of flora art.

You could not remember the last time you’d had this much time on your hands, to think such things or to appreciate them. You closed your eyes to the outside stimuli and focused on the music. The gentle melody drifted through the open door and the notes unfurled into the night, the honeyed voice on the record played to all your senses and put your heart at ease. Music helped you escape from the realities which plagued you; Tony had, in fact, bought you most of your records and enjoyed listening to them with you on nights he found himself in the mood for it. It filled you with great wonderment and hopeful promise, to listen to the words poured forth from someone else’s soul that somehow held the power of your own within them, even though the both of you were strangers. How funny it seemed to you, but still made sense nonetheless.

Slowly did your body begin to sway to the music seemingly of its own accord and volition. You kept your eyes closed, making pretend that the world as you knew it was no more and all that was left was the sound of the music, your own breathing and heartbeat matching the song note for note, beat for beat. A quiet reverence for the moment unfolding in its midst, the rest of the world faded against the starlit tapestry before you as you painted yourself back into primary existence.

You almost forgot to breathe…

"You look like you could use some company."

A male voice, heavily accented and recognizably Cuban in its origin, snapped you out of your imaginings and you spun around, eyes wide and heart racing startlingly fast. Before having a chance to respond, Tony smiled wide at you with a genuine gleam in his eye that you would’ve sworn you had not seen in him for months. So rare was it for him to crack a smile like that, you’d almost forgotten what the sight of it looked like or how it made you feel. You heart must’ve skipped a beat inside your chest because you faltered then, at a sudden loss for words as you wracked your scattered brain for an appropriate response.

Tony did not want to wait that long; he stepped across the threshold and onto the balcony with you. If he noticed your sudden inability to find the right words to say, he did not address it. You clenched your jaw, every cautious inch of you aware of him and his presence and your skin prickled, a shiver forcing its way down your spine despite the oppressive humidity and you felt your soul reaching towards his, the ghost of your essence taking hold of him before your corporeal form could lift a finger in his direction.

You had always liked his voice and the way he spoke. It was not often that you felt unique or special, but in those moments where he spoke to you, only you, were you forced to acknowledge the fact that you were.

Somehow, he knew where to find you, probably following the sound of the music up to your room only to discover the balcony door ajar and you, beyond. He came closer, far enough for you to make out the details of his person up close as he swept an arm around your waist, then the other, and encased you against his front as he continued to grin fondly at you in the pale moonlight.

It was then that you realized what he was doing; you let yourself be taken in on a whim, pulled against his solid body under the clear night sky as the music shifted into a quieter, dreamlike tune, a slow tempo that warmed you from the inside out, cradling you just like Tony’s arms now did against the small of your back. You stumbled a little over his shoes in your bare feet and that made him smile more, his arms tightening their hold on you until you righted yourself and grasped the backs of his shoulders, arms slipping themselves underneath of his.

You drank in the scent of him through his unbuttoned shirt collar: cigar smoke and alcohol, mostly. His strong presence enveloped you and all that was left to your imagination was being in his arms; nothing else were you capable of thinking in any moment, now or next. Your stresses and anxieties left you as they flooded out of you in a great purge of emotion and you clung to him tighter, both of your bodies swaying to the light tempo emanating from the stereo in your bedroom.

Tony couldn’t dance; you had seen for yourself the damage he could do on the dancefloor at the Babylon, the thoughts of which never failed to bring a smile to your face, but this was something else entirely. You relied on each other’s movements to guide you, bodies connected and arms around the other to steady yourselves on the dimly lit porch. The two of you were pressed so close together that to the naked eye you barely seemed to move, but your heart was beating hard and fast against Tony’s as you held him, chests touching and bumping against the other’s. You loved to hug him, your hearts connecting between layers of skin, muscle and bone as they beat together, for one another. You didn’t get quiet moments like this, not often, and when you did it meant so much more to you than you could have put into words.

Tony kissed your forehead, his unique voice breaking the silence, not your chagrin but to your relief as he smiled, “I would have come out earlier if it wasn’t so fuckin’ hot. What are you doing out here?”

His tone was unassuming, but you could tell he was concerned, else why would he have asked?

You lifted your head and met his gaze, deep brown eyes darkened by the night and the black shirt he wore. Glittering gold chains looped around his neck and peeked from his beneath the collar, unbuttoned to mid-chest to spare himself from heat exhaustion, and capturing what small amount of light bled outward from the well-lit room only a few feet away. You resisted the urge to touch them with your fingertips and instead did you finally find your voice, laughing airily at his comment about the heat, “I needed a break. It’s just as stuffy inside the house.”

If you hadn’t been looking at him you might’ve missed how his eyes narrowed slightly in either confusion or recognition, you were not sure which, but he heard you clearly, more intrigued by what you didn’t say than what you did. You sensed he was apologetic, except this time he kept his mouth shut while you looked at him and you were not sure if it was because he felt like there was nothing he could say to make things better or because the moment spoke for itself, so much so that he needn’t say anything at all. Perhaps you were wrong on all fronts, only Tony would know, but the way he looked at you made things clearer: if nothing else, there was love.

There was so much you wanted to tell him then, screaming it all in your mind because you couldn’t put it into words for what it was without stumbling over each syllable like it was a chore in and of itself to get the words past your lips. You didn’t need anything fancy, the flash, the luxury, the striking clothes, the fast cars or the overstated mansion you both had made into a home. All you needed were moments like this; your idea of heaven on earth stood before you now and dared to call you nothing but his own, the sheer self-confidence it took on his part to demand such made you tingle. That was all that you would ever need from him. That, and nothing else.

You eased into his embrace, shoulders slackening and you let your head fall against his shoulder. One of his hands idly rubbed your back as he swayed with you, “it’ll get easier,” he reassured you as he looked out over the tended grounds below on the quiet manor and you silently wondered if he believed what he said, “once we can catch a fuckin’ break, we’ll be unstoppable. It’s gonna be okay, baby. It’ll all be okay. If you trust me, I can prove it to you.”

Tony had always been one of two things: full of bullshit or full of himself. His self-confidence made him bulletproof, insusceptible to words, perceptions and, sometimes, even actual bullets. He believed in himself, his capabilities and that if he worked hard enough, he could have anything his heart desired.

At first glance, he was a just a small frame swimming inside a suit that was comically almost too big for him, figuratively and literally, both in style and in price, but anyone who looked at Tony Montana for too long learned the harsh realities and falsehoods of this initial perception. There was a fire that burned inside of Tony that not many other people had and that was what pushed him to the top. That, and his pugnacious tenacity of spirit and desire to rise above the rest.

His mouth might have told lies, but his eyes did not. Tony’s brutal and somewhat conflicted relationship with honesty and trust betrayed him most of the time. He could have said everything he wanted to say in one breath, only because he spoke from the heart. He meant what he said and he never hesitated. Even if you did not like what Tony had to say, at least he was never afraid to say it and lay it all on the line. Tony’s raw honesty impressed you and you wondered how someone like him got to where they were if they spoke like that, but that jarring reality was just it: no one else had the confidence of someone like Tony Montana. No one else lingered in your mind like the tattoo kisses he adorned your skin with as if it were fine jewelry. It pleased you to know that he was one of a kind, full of heart in all ways not just one, and as authentic as they come.

You tilted your head and kissed the underside of his jaw, angling your lower body till your hips connected with his which he acknowledged with a soft grunt, “it’s been difficult not seeing much of you,” you whispered breathily against his bare skin, damp with sweat and glistening in the light, “I know you’re busy, but…I miss you.”

Tony rested his chin on your shoulder and he squeezed you with fervor even though the humidity made his skin sticky and, though he’d not been outside for long, he felt like he needed a cold shower to cleanse the sweat off him. The breeze had died down now; he felt stifled and annoyed because of it but he didn’t care. He needed to feel you close to him, no matter what it took from him to get there. You deserved that kindness, that much was owed, but Tony did not have to buy your love.

“I missed you too.”

His confirmation made your heart swell with relief to know that he felt it too; the loss of connection was almost too much for you and you knew Tony would personally see to it that he spent more time with you, away from the headaches and tension of his and your work. There were things he could grudgingly pass off to Manny if he needed to, time allotted could be better spent elsewhere, he reasoned, and you were much more important to him than to risk losing you amid all else he had achieved. You made it all worth it, as cliché as it sounded.

He needed someone as strong and as capable as you by his side, how else could he have made it to the top so quickly? He was emboldened by you, strengthened in your presence and made whole again after so long of not knowing what that was supposed to feel like.

He spun you and now your back was to the open door, your body silhouetted in the lamp light from inside, but you could see all of him now and the way his eyes shined darkly like stars in the sky far above your heads. The raised scar tissue on his left cheek was a shade lighter than the rest of his skin and your eyes gravitated to it, highlighted in the light. You kissed the old injury like you had so many times before and the forced exhale of breath from him told you he was in good spirits about it. He liked that you paid attention to all of him, the bad memories as well as the good.

The song that was playing was nearing its end and you let yourself get swept up in the feel of Tony’s body pressing into yours and in the finality of that moment, you realized you could have asked Tony for the world and he would not have rested until he found a way to give it to you. Only, what more could you need when your entire world was staring straight into your eyes from only mere inches away?

You didn’t need anything at all from him, except for him.

‘Slow dancing, with you.’

#tony montana #tony montana imagine #tony montana x reader #scarface #scarface imagine #scarface x reader #al pacino #I have reached rock bottom goodbye for the next 20 years #biblio :: 📖

[amiadeadpoet]

and when they're exhausted, that’s the end for my fucking nurse complex (not a good thing, trust me)

anyway, i have a long list if you're not satisfied.

#al pacino #dog day afternoon #the godfather #and justice for all #scarface #al pacino x reader #josh hutcherson #clapton davis #detention 2011 #peeta mellark #the hunger games #clapton davis x reader #peeta mellark x reader #mike schmidt #mike schimdt x reader #five nights at freddy's #ted mosby #ted mosby x reader #himym #how i met your mother

[red--story-writer]

Can I make a request like pickle x female reader like she his mate and when he got frozen his mate also froze with him and maybe she a little bit more kind and caring than him but would fight anything that got in there way she could also be the one to always claim pickle down to when he angry or something and maybe she expecting a child soon so the other fighters are kind of very protecting of her

you can indeed :3

Pickle x female reader!

'the mate of the strongest'

your eyes widen at the sight of this weird, dark thing you're in with bright sun rays shining down on your face blinding you.

you hear screams and screeching to the right and left of you. you look around confused and spot some little beeings standing all around you.

you're confused to the highest point. you remember beeing with your mate when a weird grey cloud looped you up and made you unable to move. it was like a deep sleep for you just with the diffrence that you wake up at a very weird and ugly place.

you rise from the weird shell you were laying in, looking around for your mate. with whining, click and purring noises you try calling for your mate.... without receiving an answer.

after trying for hours and walking through weird, slim and shining cave walls you see a bright and warm light coming from the exit of this cold cave.

you leave without hesitation with the hope of finding something familar but your breath stops as soon you're out.

weird tall things are reaching for the sky, small, glittery and angular things are rushing path you in the distance.

there's no grass or trees, not even the singing of birds can be heard, all you hear are dull,loud, grating and annoying noises that give you a bad headache.

those little things from earlier start to circle you and even more join with these weird shining and moving things.

they stand all around you, you can see their mouths moving but you don't understand anything they say instead you only hear weird noises from them.

you back off from them,your back against the wall. you don't wanna run off or hurt anyone...as long they don't hurt you.

in desperation you try again to call for your partner as loud you can, out of panic you start growling and hold yoir hands infront of your stomach and bare your teeth at them.

a loud roar appears from above you, the little creatures back off and Pickle jumps down between you and the creatures, he roars at them and bares his teeth, he's more aggressive than usual.

your eyes widen as you see him....your Partner...he had heard and come for you. you get closer to him and gently move the back of your hand along his back. he turns around to you and as soon he sees you, a bright smile shows on his face.

he stands infront of you and covers your body with his, he nuzzles you and licks your forehead, his claws gently move through your long hair and he holds the back of your head.

you purr with a smile on your lips and give his cheek a lick.

he looks over his shoulder back to the creatures that still circle the two of you, with a growl of his they finally move back .

he manages to bring yiu away from this weird place and takes you far away into a park. you smile bridely as you finally see some green grasse,trees and hear the singing of the birds.

he remembers your love for the sound of birds and nature so he stays with you in the park for several days.

•

•

•

as the days pass, the people get less and less, you two are still in the park but completly alone. you don't know why and don't really care either but he knows.

the park was cordoned off and guarded by these "humans". they carry these weird things, Pickle remembers the word "guns". he can't stand it but he has the feeling that they're not against them, more like against people who try to get to the two of you.

but even tho you're "protected" by them , you get a few visitors early in the morning.

you're still asleep as they arrive, but the sudden feeling of leaving warmth wakes you up. you've been so warm all night and the past mornings, held so closed,cleaned and cared for...where did the warmth now go?!

you open your eyes seeing Pickle holding himself protective over your body and hissing at a few of these creatures...

6 actualy..but they look different than the ones you saw, taller, more muscular.. you don't know them but you can feel that they're diffrent.

you give pickle a gentle nuzzle and decide to sit up, Pickle stands close by you, he's ready to fight when they do something he doesn't like, like, getting a step too close.

"Pickle has a girlfriend i see" Baki looks at the two primitive two in a bit of desbelieve.

Albert, the person who tried to bring Pickle to life mixes in with the comvo "she's not only that...their relationship is probably many years old...now even longer...his instincts have changed now that he's with her..which doesn't surprise me.."

Tokugawa gasps as he spots a bump on the females stomach "A LITT-"

Hanayama shuts his mouth before he can continue his screeching "do you want him to attack?." cold is his voice as usual...but, also a bit of a careful manner is hearable in his tone.

Tokugawa gulps and nods when Hanayama removes his hand "o-ofcourse, ofcourse...what i wanted to say is...a baby Pickle!"

"how do you know it's a he?" Baki looks at the old,small man.

"I don't but who knows" he grins bridely at Baki.

"we need to protect them now even more.. both of them, espacialy her." the doc looks at Tokugawa "no more fights with Pickle."

Tokugawa's heart skips a beat, the fights with pickle were so popular!! and brought a lot of Money...but he nods in Agreement...he got no other choice anyway.

the fighters look at eachother in Agreement. Pickle will no longer be challenged. he will be taken care of, and his mate.

#reader #story #character #character x reader #baki #kaoru hanayama #baki hanma #doppo orochi #gouki shibukawa #katsumi orochi #pickle #baki pickle #baki gaiden scarface #baki gaiden #baki son of ogre #baki dou #baki the grappler

[sameatzz]

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐚 𝐈𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬

➪ ℍ𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕪𝕒𝕞𝕒ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕂𝕒𝕠𝕣𝕦 / 𝔹𝕒𝕜𝕚 : 𝕊𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕗𝕒𝕔𝕖 ♡︎

#art #anime edit #anime manga #baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #muscle #baki x reader #jack hanma #kaoru hanayama #scarface

[kissproof]

❦ . . . 𝘗𝘜𝘚𝘚𝘠𝘊𝘈𝘛

SUMMARY: a deprived tony purring between your legs

WARNINGS: heavily mature & suggestive themes , afab! / fem! reader language , cunnilingus

swimming to you from across the large round tub, his eyes seemed to part your legs before his hands did, his soft palms finally meeting your wet knees as he slid through the foam and closer to your sex. “look at this pretty pussycat, huh?”

“tony…” you sighed, bracing yourself with your hands behind you on the marble flooring, your head tilting back and then forward again to see his face, branded with the scar as he kissed at your skin.

“been dreamin’ about her all day,” he hummed, trailing his fingers down your thighs to your hips and pulling you closer to his open mouth. he kissed you sweetly, worshipping your swollen flower as it was lapped by a slow tongue and warm waves, so delectable, enough to get you shaking.

your pelvis pressed deeper into his face and he angled himself so he made contact with nothing else but your clit. your pleasure-filled sobs eventually grew louder and louder for him, echoing through the bathroom with reckless abandon, erupting from the deepest parts of you.

after that day, nobody could tell tony that the remedy for a hard day of conquering the world wasn’t able to be found between the thighs of his woman.

#clearing my drafts part ii #scarface #tony montana #tony montana x reader #al pacino #al pacino x reader #brian de palma #kissproof drabbles

[helpfandom]

Platonic Yandere BTAS villains pt3

Ra's al Ghul

Clock King

Max Zeus { Also known as: Maxamillion, Maxie Zeus}

Scarface and Ventriloquist

Thank you yandere-auxillary https://www.tumblr.com/helpfandom/724022554446135296/types-of-yandere?source=share

Ra's Al Ghul: This man is Possessive, Manipulative, and Clingy. Don't you realize that all of this is for your safety? He has major trust issues with children, wondering if the child who will now be his new heir will betray him just like Talia would. How y'all would meet is quite honestly, a coin flip, I am unsure of what specifics he needs for a darling, nor what would be needed for a meeting, hence why I don't know. My apologies. He's manipulative in that he has no guilt in forcing you to come with him, using his excuse of 'just an old man' to trick you into coming close to the vehicle while you help him... I don't think he sees you as you anymore, he sees you as more of an heir, a doll to become the next in the Al Ghul line.

Clock King: Obsessive, Impulsive, Self-Indulgent. He's always been shown to be obsessive, with -likely, because of my own characteristics of him having OCD, hence his obsession with- time. He's methodical, yet impulsive once he's realized that he can't go back to the time before, to when he was 'normal', when everything was right. on. time. He needs a darling that understands, that sympathizes, and he would fall in obsession of following your schedule by watching you, checking every little thing you do that happens to coincide with what happened the day before, and well, since you also have a strict schedule, clearly you understand why he also has such a strict schedule and because the Mayor ruined everything, perhaps you see why he has to kill the mayor too?

Max Zeus: Delusional, man already thinks he's Zeus and if that's not delusional, then we need reevaluate delusion. Possessive, and slightly Sadistic. He thinks that you can take any hits that you may have with him as a father, seeing as he thinks of you as a god. [Obviously one of Zeus' children, so at least you can be Apollo or Artemis or Athena or...] Never the less, the wants to control all that you do and yet nothing you do at the same time. He has no jealousy, but can't stand to see you try to do something that goes outside of your little box together that he set for you.

Scarface and Ventriloquist: Self-Indulgent, Overprotective, Clingy, are all traits of Ventriloquist, but Scarface? Sadistic, Delusional, Impulsive. Not a good combination. They each combat the other's traits, while only providing a toxic [not to say that Yandere isn't toxic but I digress] environment for someone to be around, much less someone they want to protect. Scarface would surprisingly be the one to fall into delusion first, with Ventriloquist being the second to become obsessed. Your uncaring attitude went a long way to becoming their new heir. Scarface wants you to take over the criminal business, whilst Ventriloquist wants you to stay as far away from it as one can be in Gotham. This just causes tensions amongst all of the criminals as the child who doesn't want to be here is clamored after.

#platonic x reader #platonic yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #platonic #tw yandere #yandere #yandere batman villains #yandere batman the animated series #yandere batman #yandere scarface #yandere clock king #yandere ra's al ghul #yandere max zeus #platonic yandere batman #dc batman #batman rogues #batman villains #Helpfandom's writing

[ilovelosermen69]

I've never seen Scarface in my life but yet why is he hot.

#scarface 1983 #tony montana #scarface #Tony Montana x reader #why am i like this #am i tripping #al pacino

[lvrface]

❛❛𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧❜❜

────────────────────

DUCKIE JONES, born as 'Noelle Duckstein', is a wonder of sorts. She's not a humble girl, and one of her favourite activities is looking at her own reflection. But she's not ashamed of it. She loved attention bring on her, she loved being loved. Noelle loved sparkly dresses that neckline's maybe just a bit too low down, always carried around a compact mirror and you would never catch her dead leaving the house without a full face of makeup; even if it was just to answer the door to a delivery. This all most likely stemmed from the fact her mother had put her into this lifestyle at a young age, her own mother being a burlesque performer and pageant queen. Noelle was born to a Mexican woman, Daphne, who grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and whitewashed herself as she grew to gain more opportunities. Noelle never really learnt about her culture. Noelle's dad was a rich man, some fancy lawyer who was an (in)famous criminal defense lawyer but ended up mysteriously dying leaving all his inheritance to Daphne and their only child. He was an all American man, who was born and bred in Brooklyn. Growing up, Noelle's mother entered her into beauty pageants presumably trying to push her daughter into her footsteps.

JUST BEFORE HER FATHER PASSED, the Ducksteins moved from Brooklyn to Miami. It was a rushed move but they ended up in a nice house. Noelle was not even a teenager when her dad passed, being a daddy's girl this death upset her deeply. Noelle and her mother never really got along, and she always had a feeling that Daphne was somewhat jealous of her daughter. There were a handful of heavy arguments but there would never be a conversation that went by that didn't have sly catty remarks made towards one another. As Noelle grew older and went up school years, she became more and more popular due to, not only her looks, but her natural ability to make people want to be her. She did have a handful of people who disliked her, mostly due to her romantic altercations, but she paid no mind to them. Noelle was a cheerleader in her high school, and loved performing and making up routines.

IT CAME AS NO SURPRISE WHEN NOELLE FOLLOWED HER IN MOTHER'S FOOTSTEPS. Her mother originally wanted her to just be married off to some rich man, and Noelle wasn't really opposed to the idea. But she was opposed to the idea that the 'rich man' was a guy who's personality and lifestyle was as dry as a slice of bread. She lived for rushes of adrenaline. Noelle became a popular performer at the 'Babylon Club' being a dancer and occasional singer. She quickly became a local's favourite. Her mother didn't exactly disapprove of Noelle's lifestyle, as it would be hypocritical, but she did believe Noelle could do better than being "some dancer in some club". But Noelle didn't care, she loved her job. But she did always want more. So what happens when the 'more' she was looking for stumbles into the club with a scar across his face?

read full introduction here.

#tony montana #scarface #tony montana imagine #tony montana x reader #tony montana fanfic #fanfic #fancition

[stvolanis]

Could I request some tony montana with a reader who has a Degration kink please. 👉👈

of course!! I added a little more to spice it up, hope you don’t mind love<3

LOVE GAMES

(requested)

PAIRINGS: Tony Montana x reader

WARNINGS: there’s not much plot!

NSFW WARNINGS: Dom!Mean!Tony,brat taming, heavy degradation (whore, slut, bitch), hair pulling, p in v sex, spitting, slapping, oral (m receiving), choking, making out, pet names, humiliation (licking cum from the floor??)

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Tony Montana was pissed. Seething kind of pissed.

The entire time he was in his meeting, trying to merge and alliance with one of the most notorious mafias in order to get more money to take care of your ass (as if you needed any more), Is when you’d decided to start acting like a spoiled brat.

Tony had sat you on his lap, as he always does when in meetings, because he thought you knew to behave. Apparently not, because you had started whining in his ear about how he ‘wasn’t giving you any attention anymore’.

Tony ignored you and told you to hush while the other men were speaking, and that seemed to have pissed you off, which resulted in you discreetly trying to hump yourself against his thigh.

He whispered a harsh “sitcha little ass still” and with a huff, you’d gotten off of his slap and dramatically stormed out of the room. To say you’d embarrassed Tony was an understatement.

You’d chosen the worst time to start acting out, and now here you were, bent over with Tony standing over you, a vein bulging from how angry he was with you for pulling such a stunt.

The flimsy black dress you were wearing earlier is discarded somewhere on the floor of your shared master bedroom, and you were in your red laced panties and matching bra set, the one Tony had bought you for Valentine’s Day.

In a quick instant, Tony ripped your panties off with no remorse, and you let out a loud gasp. “Tony!” You yelled out. He landed a harsh smack on your left ass cheek. “Shut the fuck up.” He hissed with clenched teeth.

Your pussy was dripping with your slick, but the slap made you flinch forward. You weren’t used to how rough Tony was being. Usually, your lover was slow and sweet, and took his time making you feel good, but the man behind you seemed like a completely different person.

And you weren’t complaining one bit.

If anything, you wanted this outcome. You plotted it. You craved it. Yes, you loved that Tony was a sweet man in bed, but sometimes you just wanted to be put in your place by him. You wanted him to manhandle you and use you solely for his pleasure.

You heard shuffling behind you and the sound of Tony’s expensive belt fall to the ground. His cock was around 7.5 inches, maybe even 8 and uncut with a slight curve to the left. His cock is thick and trimmed evenly. It was heavy as he slapped it on your weeping pussy a few times with a grunt.

Suddenly, he breached your entrance. The sting was painful, as Tony would usually prep you before just shoving it in. You gasped as you felt him fill you with his meaty girth, balls deep before slowing pulling out and slamming back in.

“Tony, oh my god! Please—“ you screamed out as your eyes began to water from the impact. “No, this is what the fuck you wanted, right?” He chuckled out as he began to pound into you, his hands tightly secured on your hips, surely to bruise in the morning.

“Comin’ onto me like a fuckin’ dirty whore. You wanna act like a dumb slut then I’ll treat you like one.” He said. His Cuban accent was thick in every word he spoke, and it made you all the more wetter. Your juices could be heard loudly every time his cock rammed into you.

“Fuckk, your cunt is suckin’ me in, greedy little bitch.” He breathed out as he threw his head back with a moan. Tony was always a vocal man, and it was one of your favorite things about him. He wasn’t ashamed to show how good he was feeling like most lousy men were, but then again, no other man was Tony Montana.

“Tell me you’re fuckin’ sorry, whore!” He spit out as his hand reach up, tightly wrapping itself in your hair and pulling your head back painfully. Your eyes met Tony’s darkened one’s, and his cock twitched at the sight of your tears, mascara running down your face.

“‘M sorry, Tony! Shittt, ‘m so so sorry, baby.” You slurred, mind blank and completely drunk on your husbands piercing cock. “You gonna learn how to be a good girl f’me after this, huh? Or am I gonna have to use this little pussy till you do?” He asked.

You couldn’t respond, your mind felt fuzzy as you felt your orgasm approaching. Your mouth hung agape, the only sound coming out was loud ‘ahs’ coming out each time his cock touched that one spot that made you see stars. Your stomach tightened and your hands gripped the satin sheets below you, bracing yourself for the world-shattering orgasm you were about to have.

“Fucked you dumb, haven’t it? Little bitch.” He gritted through clenched teeth. Your gummy walls were squeezing him in a vice grip, and each time he pulled out, your pussy felt like it was sucking him right back in. He knew you were about to cum, he could tell in the way your walls clenched down on him harder, almost painfully, making him hiss as he landed another smack to your ass cheek with his free hand.

“Tony, ‘m gonna cum!” You gasped out. He didn’t respond, only inhumanly speeding up his pace of ruining your poor pussy. You felt his heavy balls slap against your needy clit with every single hard thrust he delivered, and that was your breaking point as you squirted all over him.

Your moans were loud and uncontrollable, and surely the whole mansion could hear you as he fucked you with no mercy through your orgasm, chasing for his own.

You were beyond sensitive, and his pace wasn’t stopping. The only sign you had that he was becoming closer to his release was his deepening moans and his thrusts getting a little more sloppier till finally, his hips stilled.

He filled you with his cum to the brim, thrusting a few more times just to make sure he emptied his balls completely into your needy pussy. “Jus’ needed my cock in you to fuckin’ act right, yeah, you dumb slut?” He mocked, feigning pity as he pulled out of you.

His cum spilled out of your pussy, warm and sticky as you felt it drip down your thighs. Your body felt weak, and your legs were shaking as he helped you to your feet, cum still running down your thighs.

His hand met your neck as he gripped tightly, almost blocking your air ways as his lips smashed into yours. He groaned into the kiss while you whimpered, not bothering to fight for dominance, because a man like Tony Montana would always win.

Your tongues tangled and danced with each other before he harshly bit onto your bottom lip, drawing blood and then releasing it. “Suck your filthy whore juices off of my cock, baby.” He muttered against your lips. “Okay, Tony.” You whispered as you instantly dropped to your knees before the man.

The man standing over you bunched up your hair into a makeshift ponytail in a tight grip. Peering up at him through your lashes, Tony could see how ruined you were. All for him. And he loved it. He loved the sight of you submissive and on your knees for him, ready to take anything and everything he gives you.

You stuck your tongue out, and Tony slapped his cock onto your tongue a few times. “Dirty girl, hm? Only time y’go quiet ‘s when you got my cock in your slutty mouth.” He gritted out as you sucked his tip, releasing it with a ‘pop’.

You licked down his cock, lapping up your juices with kitten licks. Tony groaned as he watched you take him back into your mouth. You struggled to take him, but the last thing you wanted was to disappoint Tony, so you gagged as you forced yourself to take him further.

Your quivering hands reached to stroke what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. “No hands, honey.” He taunted with a smirk. God, he was so pretty. So ruggedly handsome it sent you into a frenzy each time your glossy eyes locked with his. Your hands released his cock reluctantly.

You didn’t have time to react before you felt his cock brutally shoved down your throat. “Fuck, yeah, baby, just like that. Knew this whore mouth was good f’somethin’ besides complainin’” he moaned out as he threw his head back.

You gurgled and gagged around his cock, which was as deep as it could go down your throat. Your nose buried in his trimmed pubic hair, his scent thick with musk, a manly scent. Your senses were overwhelmed in him.

He held you there for a moment, his cum spurting down your throat, nearly choking you. Your hands gripped at his thighs, signaling for a breath of air, to which Tony obliged.

You released his cock with a gasp. His cum clogged your air way, which resulted in you spitting it onto the ground. “Ungrateful slut.” Tony growled out. “M sorry, Tony.” You whimpered out as his hand tangled into your hand again, craning your neck up to look at him.

“Lick it up.” Was all he said. Your mouth hung agape. “B-but the floor s’nasty!” You pleaded out with a frown. Yet, Tony didn’t miss the way your thighs clenched and rubbed together, or the way your cheeks flushed and you bit your lip. “Don’t fuckin’ make me repeat myself.” He said with furrowed brows.

You nodded, hesitantly leaning down, eye level with the floor. Your tongue met the cold floor, but was welcomed with his warm, salty cum. You lapped it up from the floor, some of it sticking to your chin. Tony merely chuckled as he watched you with beady eyes.

“Good girl.” He muttered out as he put his pants back on, fastening his belt. He helped you to your feet again, gripping your cheeks together to open your mouth to see his cum. “Swallow.” He stated, to which to did.

He hummed in approval. “Y’gonna be good now,?” He asked. You nodded, tired and worn out. “S’my girl alright? Y’wanna take a bath with me, honey?” He asked as he gently kissed your cheek and moved the hair matted to your forehead from sweat.

“Please, Tony.” You muttered as you leaned into him, finally feeling his warm arms wrap around you, and you finally felt content.

“Alright, baby, c’mon.” He said gently, a huge contrast to the way he was just speaking to you.

Being in his warm embrace was the last thing you could remember as he lead you to the bathroom, everything going black from exhaustion.

You faintly heard Tony mutter an “I love you”.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf

#scarface #scarface x reader #al pacino #stvolanis #tony montana smut #tony montana x reader #scarface smut #al pacino x reader #al pacino smut #smut #imagine

[a-boca-do-inferno]

trouble with a capital T (tony montana x reader)

summary: (y/n) has an unexpected admirer.

warnings: angst, smut-bit of a size kink? idk u tell me, violence, drugs, abuse, dubcon, blood, swearing, domestic abuse, fluff and a little stalking ig. also tony montana

words: 8.9k

notes: this is toxic asf pls beware when reading it. also reader here is stupid asf for narrative purposes do not be like that irl im begging you. i rly have a concerning taste in men and if someone ever finds this i dont kno any of you <3 enjoy!

There’s this new guy in town who looks like trouble with a capital “T”. Everyone has seen him in person, except (y/n). However, by the stories and theories she hears, the figure of this man becomes even more macabre. Nobody knows his real name. He’s known only as Scarface, which should be an indicator of his perhaps not-so-scary nature, but (y/n) is a bit of a coward, if she’s being honest.  

Still, when the girl thinks of him, she likes to imagine he has his own reasons for doing what people say he does. It is a morally questionable service, certainly illegal—considerably inhumane—, yet something inside of her extends this guy the benefit of the doubt. It’s not an uncommon theme in Florida, anyway, selling drugs and whatnot, so perhaps Scarface isn’t of all bad. He is still surely just a man, right? But when she received Elvira’s messages saying there was a shooting in her neighborhood, and that Scarface was arrested for allegedly taking part in it, (y/n) felt a little overwhelmed about her previous considerations. Even if the guy wasn’t the devil like everyone made him to be, he was a criminal. A violent one at that, putting innocent people’s lives in danger, like her friend’s. 

She couldn’t go see Elvie that day, but (y/n) told her she’d drop by as soon as possible. Elvira sent some pictures of her neighbor’s window with bullet holes, six of them. The neighbor was a man who lived alone and listened to loud music all day on Sundays. Why anyone would have ordered his death, they had no idea. But then again, (y/n) didn’t really trust men who’d hit on women even after being told “no” a couple of hundred times. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if he was a rapist, or a pedophile, or both. Anything was possible nowadays. The neighbor managed to escape the sniper’s attack and left through the back, anyway, and Elvira said he entered the backyard of her house to protect himself. She was really lucky that by that time, the police had already arrived at the scene and readily took the shooter into custody.  

Scarface, according to Elvie’s description, was a short, rustic-looking man. He was white, but sunburned, with a stylish haircut reminiscent of the ‘80s and a shaven face. His eyes were big and dark, with a prominent nose, and there was a scar on his left eye, which obviously earned him the infamous nickname. He walked around with a worn Hawaiian shirt and a white wifebeater under it, the one everybody says he’s always wearing; from the waist down, he had shabby jeans held up by a leather belt and old-fashioned cowboy boots. The kind they used to wear in the Wild West, probably.  

The guy was just an almost cartoonish figure, a villain straight out of some children’s TV show. And still, somehow, he was the terror of this city as of lately. Everyone licked his balls in an attempt to spare their own lives. Uselessly, of course, since he didn’t seem to have any real consideration for anyone or anything, except for money. So, it wasn’t exactly a certainty that he wouldn’t kill any of his so-called “friends” downtown, unless they owned something valuable to him—drugs, for instance. 

And him being detained now, for the hundredth time that month, wasn’t really a relief, since he would soon be out. Because no one could ever catch him in the act—he was a professional, after all—, his stay in the precinct’s modest jail was only for a few hours. At most one night. Five hundred, even a thousand dollars in bail—or a bribe, in fact—was enough for the sheriff to release him with a faithful promise he would see Scarface again the following week. And it was no sooner said than done. 

Nobody knew where he lived. There were rumors his home was in the neighborhood next to (y/n)’s, but it was never confirmed. It also wouldn’t make any difference to know where his residence was. Again: the guy was a professional. Even the mayor licked the floor he walked. But Scarface also had his enemies, obviously. On her block alone there were four or five men who would kill him in broad daylight with their bare hands, if given the chance. She didn’t know the story very well, but it obviously had something to do with settling scores. It always did.  

Scarface, the cowboy-boots and burnt-skin, revolver-stuck-to-spine and walk-of-an-insufferable-bastard Scarface, was the greatest example of how the universe does not give any tips. The divine does not send signs. And when it does, it’s a bullet in the head, right in the middle of your eyebrows. Scarface is the universal clue of at least three people a week, but no one recognizes him as such. They’d rather bow to his feet, fearing for their lives, as if the devil had any sympathy in him in the first place. It was a funny paradox. Furthermore, the universe is also a sneaky son of a bitch. So, of course her brother would get into some trouble and end up in jail. And of course he would ask (y/n) to save his ass as she often did.  

She quickly turned around the way she was making to the supermarket and parked in front of the station, luckily only a few blocks away from her destination. The girl entered the room in silence and wrinkled her nose slightly at the strong smell of pee and cigarettes coming from the back, where the small jail was. In the waiting room, there were only two men sitting with their heads down and a guard in front of the hallway that led to the detainees.  

(y/n) went to talk to the guard and before disappearing, he told her to wait right there. She took a sit as far away from the two ominous-looking men as possible and pretended to be fiddling with her phone. In fact, she was distressed. Despite Manny being known for his little transgressions, he’d never been arrested before, so she had also never been to a police station up until that point. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her fingers were trembling slightly.  

The guard finally returned and she let out a sigh of relief. He handed her some paperwork to fill and she paid the bail in silence. While she gave him her signature, loud voices and laughter could be heard approaching in the hallway next to the waiting room. The laughter was undeniably masculine, a deep voice reverberating through the walls of the quiet police station. (y/n) held her breath as her eyes landed on brown shoes touching the floor. She didn’t dare look up and quickly finished signing the papers, going back to her chair while the guard went to get Manny.  

She stared down at her phone, her heartbeat speeding up again. The disturbing laughter ceased and the girl heard a rattle of keys followed by another clang. A thick accent thanked someone and (y/n) let out her breath, thinking he was leaving at last, but the heavy boots made their way to the water cooler right next to her. She bit her lip and sighed shakily, still not daring to look up. The way he was standing betrayed the lack of care for his spine, as he was unnecessarily leaning too far back. His loud gulps almost made (y/n) roll her eyes, despite her nervousness. He really looked like he came out of a cartoon with such deliberately theatrical behaviour.  

The two men sitting away from her got up at the same time and walked out of the station, leaving just Scarface, another guard who was on the computer, and her. But as she had no luck, a voice called that damn guard and he left them both alone in the waiting room. At that point, (y/n) knew the asshole was just messing around with that glass of water he’d been drinking for the past two minutes. And for that reason, she decided to stand up straight and look at him. There was nothing to fear. She had nothing to do with his drug shenanigans. 

The girl was only still hesitant of Scarface maybe trying to do something inappropriate, but she didn’t have time to run when he threw the cup in the trash and sat down on the empty chair right next to her. That man’s sly smile and predatory gaze made her shiver from head to toe. “Mornin’”, he states, his deep voice very close to her ear.  

(y/n) turned to look at him and kept her expression solemn. “Morning”, she simply replies, and perhaps it comes out too imposing, because Scarface raises his eyebrows and looks at her with some humor.  

“A tough one, huh? Just the way I like it.”  

She wants to laugh at his words, but only shakes her head. “Are you fucking serious? You wish....” 

“I wish what?”, he grabs her face tightly, forcing her to look at him. (y/n) freezes under his touch and can’t hide her panicked expression. He smiles satisfied and moves closer to her. “Your mama never told you not to talk to strangers, huh?”, she tries to pull away from his grip, but he pushes his fingers harder against her cheeks to the point of hurting. “Answer me.”  

“You’re not a stranger, Scarface”, she grins and he lets go of her at last. (y/n) takes a deep breath and clears her throat, checking the time and tucking her phone into her front pocket. Thankfully, Manny’s voice is approaching in the hallway and she gets up, giving the guy a scowl. “I know you think you own this town, but remember you’re still just a guy. Get over yourself.”  

“Oh, I know”, Scarface mutters, smirking like she’d just told him a great joke. He stands up and tries to touch her again, but (y/n) manages to avoid it. He then pulls her closer by the waist for a split second, as the guard and her brother appear in that instant. The man lets go of her quickly, and before he leaves, he flashes her a wink, “have a good day, baby.” 

She watches angrily as Scarface disappears, caressing her aching face. The girl turns around to find Manny with a sorry expression, and she clenches her jaw. “Let’s go”, it’s all she says, walking out of the station without waiting for him. 

♡♡♡ 

A week after that incident, (y/n) never left the house again. Until today, that is; she only went to her brother’s because he was starting to get a little worried about her confinement. She didn’t think of telling him why she was hiding for protection, because the less her family knew about that crazy drug dealer bothering her, the better.  

(y/n) walked out of her car fast so she wouldn’t bump into Scarface on the street by any chance. Although it was pretty unlikely to happen, seeing as he didn’t usually hang out in her neighborhood, but she wouldn’t take any risks. No one besides herself knew what went on in the station and she didn’t intend to tell anyone else. The girl didn’t even know if she should have told anyone in the first place. The guy had this city in his hands. If he wanted to find her, it was a snap of his fingers.  

But of course, (y/n) couldn’t run away forever. And the day she decided she’d go to Manny’s without any fear, while she was sitting on the sofa, that damned thick accent came from the front door. She widened her eyes and got up quickly, but when the girl reached the kitchen door, her scared expression met the man’s pleased one. He was smiling at something her brother was saying, however, as soon as he saw her, the mirth on his features was borderline sickening. Still, he visibly tried to play it cool because Manny was there.  

(y/n) pretended not to care as she made her way to the bathroom and locked herself there, hands shaking violently. She sent millions of desperate messages to Elvira. The voices continued to chatter excitedly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have Scarface at her brother’s place. Like they were buddies. 

Suddenly there was silence and someone knocked on the bathroom door slowly, barely audible. Her heart raced and she felt a lump forming in her throat, eyes watering without warning. Another knock. She put her phone away and slowly opened the door, not knowing what else to do or where else to go. The man’s intimidating presence greeted her and a victorious grin hovered on his lips. (y/n) looked into the living room for Manny, but there was no one. He seemed to have left for some reason, and she felt her world fall apart.  

The girl stared back at Scarface and he was now serious, examining her body up and down with no shame. “So you’re family, huh?”, he muses, his terrifying voice making her shiver sharply. She sighed and went to sit back in the couch, accompanied by him, who was leaning against the doorway and still gazed at her without blinking. “When they told me you were Manny’s lil’ sis, I couldn’t believe it, baby! But here you are, I guess that makes him my brother-in-law”, he states, content as a child who solves a puzzle. “He told me you live alone, right? I might pay you a visit someday.”  

“Right”, she merely scoffs, attempting her best not to show the shift in her seat hearing his words. 

He smiles macabre, moving his index finger from side to side in denial. “You don’t talk to me like that, tigress. Let’s start there”, he looks around, making sure Manny’s still not there, and approaches her. (y/n) instinctively pulls away and he grabs her face just like before, forcing her to glance at him. “You don’t talk to me like that. Got it?” She doesn’t answer and he squeezes her cheeks even more, making her let out a groan of pain. “Got it?”  

“Got it”, she spits out, begrudgingly.  

(y/n) thinks he’s going to let go, finally, but first he gives her an awkward, aggressive peck on the lips. She instantly shoves him and wipes her mouth to somehow undo that contact. Scarface laughs, “you’re so cute, baby.”  

“What are you doing with my...” 

Manny arrived as soon as she closed her mouth, readily engaging in another conversation with Scarface while ignoring her presence there. They talk about people and places she knew nothing about, it sounded like a bunch of codes, and she gaped at each sentence they exchanged. How the hell did they know each other? What was that asshole doing with her brother?!  

Dinner came and Scarface—his name was never mentioned, for some reason, and she wasn’t about to ask—made a point of sitting next to her, but if Manny noticed their closeness, he didn’t pay any mind. They continued talking through the meal and Manolo chit-chatted (y/n) now and then, forcing her to answer Scarface’s falsely innocent and curious questions about what she was talking about. As if he didn’t already know everything about her life, apparently.  

After helping clean the kitchen, (y/n) said goodbye to her brother. Scarface watched them silently from the sofa and she tried to keep her focus on Manny. “I have some stuff to do at home now, gotta go.” 

“You going alone? It’s late”, he frowns.  

She waves her hand to make light of it. “It’s fine, Manny. It’s a ten minute ride.”  

Manolo shakes his head. “Even so, (y/n), you know this neighborhood ain’t safe. I can’t take you home, but Tony can.”  

So that’s his name.  

Scarface—Tony chimes in, not letting her answer Manny just yet, “c’mon, let’s go. I’ll take you.” 

“It is not necessary. I literally drove here!”, the girl huffs, already taking the first step to leave.  

Manny stops her before she reaches the door. “No, no. It’s too dangerous here at night, you better go with him. C’mon, you take her, Tony. She’s just a little stubborn.”  

(y/n) locks her jaw, but doesn’t say anything.  

“I noticed”, Tony mutters tauntingly, giving her an ambiguous look that surely only she saw. The girl took a deep breath and surrendered, waving goodbye to Manny as she walked with Tony to her car. They strolled in silence to the garage and as soon as she opened the door of the vehicle, he pulled out a little plastic bag from his pocket, full of a white powder. He pointed with his chin at it, raising the object. “I just made some business with your brother today, baby, no worries.”  

(y/n) stared at him confused, but still didn’t say a word. Manolo was really going down an irreversible path, it seemed, and there was nothing she could do about it. With a heavy heart, she could only get in her car and pray she’d make it home safe that night. Scarface followed her and started driving, shooting her a smile or two over his shoulder. Luckily, it wasn’t long until they parked in front of her building. He turned off the ignition and got out of the car with her, obviously inviting himself in.  

Of course.  

(y/n)’d been trying for a few seconds to open the stuck gate and Tony notices her suffering, helping her to complete the task. She doesn’t thank him and simply walks into the house, knowing he’s on her tail. His eyes burn into her back, but she tries not to focus on it while starting to unlock the door. She is greeted by her cats rubbing against her heels and she smiles automatically. Forgetting for a brief moment that Scarface is there, the girl takes the smaller one in her arms, hugging and kissing her soft dark fur. When she puts her down, the man is watching her with an amused expression.  

Her cheeks tingle and (y/n) makes her way to the kitchen, with Tony still following in silence. She pours herself a glass of water and offers it to him next, which he accepts, still staring at her with the same predatory demeanor. He’s going to try to do something ugly to her, obviously, and she is trying not to think about it, but it’s getting harder and harder. If she screams, no one will hear her. Fortunately or not, she has no neighbor on her floor. She makes a mental list of what objects she can throw at his head to make him pass out like in the movies; a brand new moisturizer that is full; a makeup bag; her favorite pan. If she is quick enough, maybe she can lock him in her room and call the police. 

(y/n) snaps out of her thoughts when Tony approaches her behind the counter, while she still holds a glass of water. She is staring at his chest when he calmly takes it from her hands and offers her a smile. She tries to hide her trembling fingers from his vision, but he notices them and takes her palm in his, raising it to her eye level.  

“Not so tough now, huh?”, he mocks, making (y/n) bite her own tongue so she doesn’t give him a sharp answer and gets punched because of it. He kisses her fingertips softly, catching her off guard. Tony notices her confused expression and grins again, lowering his face to bring it closer to hers. “What, you think I was gonna keep scaring you off? I’m not that bad, baby.” 

“If you say so.” She mutters reflexively, regretting it right away when his dangerous orbs fall on her. She sighs and looks away. “Sorry.” 

He nods approvingly. “Good girl.”  

There is an old gouache paintbrush she could use to pierce through his neck in case it gets bad. The glass pitcher is over the sink. (y/n) looks at the table and there’s a fork and a spoon. The big knife is in the drawer— 

Tony lets go of her hand and walks to her room. She listens to the sound of his wooden soles echoing against the tile floor a little astonished, before following him. She opens the door, which creaks imposingly through the empty, closed house, and her heart skips a beat when she hears the mattress shift, indicating he has settled into her bed.  

(y/n) is in front of her window to open it, but before she can do it, his arms wrap around her from behind and pull her away from it. She widens her eyes and tries to pull away, however, the grip tightens. She starts to shake more aggressively and an agonized scream leaves her mouth, causing his hand to slam against it, muffling the sound. She looks desperately at Tony and he’s signaling her to be quiet. Panic takes over her body and she gives up trying to get out of his grip. He seems happy with this decision and removes his palm from her lips, laying her body down on the bed and straddling her, legs wrapping around her waist as his knees sink into the mattress.  

Her eyes water and she closes them tightly, waiting for the inevitable. (y/n) remains like this for a few seconds, but nothing happens. She thinks maybe Tony has given up on what he wanted to do, however, when she opens her eyes again, his face is hovering over hers. His brown eyes are scrutinizing the girl minutely, there’s not a single vestige of that villainous smile that lives on his lips. She returns his gaze and they stare at each other in silence. His elbows are propped up against the mattress and his hands are still gripping her arms, holding them in place, but with no force.  

(y/n) wants to ask him what he’s doing, but the thought leaves her mind as soon as he takes a gun out of his pants. She screams in desperation, “help! Help! Someone help me!”  

“Shhh. Hey, calm down!”, Tony puts his hand over her mouth yet again, holding her down so she’ll stop her kicking. She watches, still horrified, as he places the gun on the chair beside her bed. “I’m not killing you, baby, calm down”, there’s a smirk on his features that makes her stomach turn. “Yet”, he adds, taking his palm away from her trembling lips. (y/n) tries to get up, but he pushes her back down. “I ain’t killing you, but I’m gonna do other things.” 

“No, no, please...” 

She can’t finish her pleas as his full lips crash onto hers, now in a kiss deeper and less brusque than the peck from earlier. The girl tries to resist at first, but soon her body speaks louder and she ends up giving in to the contact. She lets out an involuntary groan as his rough fingers lift the hem of her shirt, almost like an animal in heat. Damn hormones, she thinks in the back of her mind, not really caring for that much when his fingertips send shivers through her skin.  

Tony pulls apart so he can remove her garment, smirking at her bra-covered breasts. She blushes terribly. “You’re so cute, baby.” 

He kisses her again and (y/n) reciprocates vehemently this time, wrapping her legs around his waist tightly. His lips trace down her neck and she faintly laughs at the little tickle there, making him lift his face to look at her intently. There’s something different in his eyes, almost adoration, but she can’t finish the thought as he unbuttons her pants and unceremoniously pulls them down, leaving the girl in her underwear.  

Tony drops to his knees on the bed and shrugs off his iconic floral shirt and wifebeater. (y/n) can’t help but smile seeing his near-athletic pecs and gets on her knees too, silently volunteering to strip him out of his own pants. He watches closely as she unzips his jeans and unbuttons them, sliding them down his toned thighs. Tony finishes getting rid of the piece and goes back to kissing her neck urgently, leaving more aggressive caresses in place. A chill travels her spine when his member bumps into her stomach and she squeezes his arm reflexively, catching his attention.  

“You good?”, he asks, sounding so worried he seems to be another man completely different from the Scarface criminal who’s been with her until now.  

She simply nods and lets out another moan as his lips descend to the gap between her breasts, leaving sinuous kisses all the way down. He licks at the sweat accumulated there and kisses her again; a salty, icy kiss. A hand finds her face and trails her cheek lightly, while his tongue invades her mouth shamelessly. His touch is so gentle it looks absolutely nothing like the man who bruised her face twice with his brute strength. Tony gropes down her back and unbuckles her bra, making the girl shiver as he grips her nipple. Soon, he pays attention to them with his mouth and she bites her lip so as not to make too much noise. Still nibbling at the sensitive skin on her breasts, his deft hands slide down her panties and her face heats up violently.  

He slips two fingers into her without blinking an eye. (y/n) arches her back and blurts out a high-pitched groan, which had him chuckling, turning her on even more as his thick voice vibrated against her nipple. When his tongue meets her clit, the feeling is indescribably divine. She’s now a carefree mess of moans and ragged breathing. Tony’s hands grip her hips strongly, holding back her unconscious thrusts.  

He lifted his face again before she came, his chin visibly wet. “Got protection, baby?”  

“No”, she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I never did that, I didn’t have to...” 

“Right”, he says thoughtfully, as if just connecting the dots now. Tony fumbles in his pockets and doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for, so he looks back at her. “I got nothing on me either.”  

“What now?”  

They exchange a silent look and he shrugs, getting back on top of her body. “Now I’m pulling out y qué sea lo que Dios quiera.”  

(y/n) is going to protest, but Tony takes off his boxers and invades her without warning, causing her to groan in pain. He soon notices her expression and stands statue over the girl, waiting for her to recover. Tears form in her eyes once again and he leaves light kisses on her cheek, trying to calm her down. She smiles softly at the delicate and unexpected gesture. Soon she’s ready and he starts to move, gradually increasing the pace.  

The solemn creak of the bed is the only sound besides their gasping breaths and moans she can’t contain. Every now and then his golden chain hits her chin, however it doesn’t hurt, it’s but a little friction. His big hands are squeezing her breasts as he speeds up the movements little by little. (y/n) looks to the side and sees the revolver on the pink chair, the contrast of that scene making her want to laugh. She returns her attention to Tony and he’s got his eyes closed, mouth open, leaving wet kisses all over her cleavage. He’s dripping with sweat, just like her.  

He takes her lips again and only then does she return to the moment, losing herself in her own pleasure and letting the orgasm overtake her without precedent. Next up is Tony, who comes with a husky moan and one last kiss. He lets his body slide off hers, pulling out his cock while his cum paints them both. (y/n) kisses his face after the effect of orgasm and he returns the caress, pulling her into a fairly tight hug. She smiles at the contact and lets him hold her there for a few minutes. They’re silent the entire time, until he pulls the sheet from under the pillow to cover them. Tony and her exchange indecipherable, sinuous looks, and that’s when her penny drops. She just had sex with a criminal.  

Jesus. 

“This shouldn’t have happened”, she say abruptly, sitting up.  

Tony also sits down and shrugs.  “But it did. So what?”  

“So it won’t happen again!”, (y/n) exclaims in annoyance, not caring that this man has a gun and isn’t afraid to use it at all. “You need to go.”  

“Already? You just wanna use me and throw me away, huh? Now that’s cold, baby”, she rolls her eyes at his mockery and stares at the wall as he stands beside the bed, his stuff swaying back and forth. “Hey”, he calls, but she doesn’t answer. He then touches her chin and gives her a lingering, incredibly soft peck. She sighs as Tony pulls away and there’s a gentle smile on his face as he puts on his clothes. “You’re cute, (y/n).”  

“Thanks”, she timidly blurts out, not really knowing what to say. The girl looks for her underwear and tenses up as she watches him handle his revolver, placing it on his back again.  

He notices this. “I ain’t hurting you with that gun, you know? You can relax.”  

“Even if you don’t use it against me, it’s still a weapon”, she mutters seriously, turning her back to him so he can buckle her bra.  

He does the task and hugs her from behind, kissing her locks. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me, baby, not even a weapon.” 

She turns to face him, hugging his waist lightly. Tony gets serious all of a sudden and lets out a long breath as he finally releases her. He checks his pocket and fixes his messy hair in the small mirror on top of the dresser. Before leaving, they exchange one last look. None of them says a word. (y/n) watches him disappear behind the gate and looks around the empty house, returning to her room and closing the door. She stares at the completely messed up bed and the sheet painted by drops of blood and sperm, which they shared for a few seconds, now on the floor. Ha.  

Trouble with a capital “T”. 

♡♡♡ 

Two weeks after the incident, (y/n) didn’t go to her brother’s house anymore. But Elvira, being such a pain in her ass sometimes, had practically bullied her into going out tonight.  She was anxious, it’d been a while since she went out to have fun like this. Her fear of bumping into Tony—Scarface wasn’t exactly as strong as before, for obvious reasons, but she’d still rather not take her chances in finding him again. No matter how good his dick game was, he was a dangerous individual. Better to stay away. 

So, for the record; she fucked a hitman and was most likely falling in love with him, maybe even reciprocally, just after he got violent with her several times. Elvie obviously didn’t know about it yet, but what would she do when that time inevitably came? Because (y/n) was going to tell her, no doubt. She couldn’t keep it all to herself forever, hiding it from everyone like it was some sort of crime. Elvira would probably call her crazy and even threaten to lock her up in an asylum, wanting to choke Tony if it was as much as hinted he laid his hand on her. And she wasn’t even wrong for that! 

But what about her family? God, if her father knew... He’d go after Tony’s blood. He would simply never look her in the face again, especially since their relationship was already fragile enough because of Manolo. And what of her reputation? All of Miami would talk about this. She’d be the new bitch on the block for sure. No one would respect her, she’d become a joke. Not that she cared about what those people think of her, but it would be nice to stay anonymous. It was safe, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

With a heavy sigh, (y/n) finished getting ready and stared at her reflection, smiling faintly. Perhaps it was best to let those corrosive thoughts for tomorrow’s hangover. She grabbed her bag and locked her apartment, walking down the deserted street. As the club was close to her house, there was no reason for anyone to come and get her, so she’d go alone with no worries. It wasn’t like anyone was going to do anything to her on her quiet neighborhood, anyway, much less on the weekend. Plus, criminals in this town had a schedule and they liked to stick to it. At least the ones who grew up there. 

Already approaching the place, she saw Elvira with some of her friends waiting for her in the line. They greeted each other and entered the club, going for a table next to the bar. (y/n) immediately asked for a strong drink to try and calm down her nerves, feeling rather unfit for that environment after such a long time away from it. At the first glass, she felt lighter and smiling, pulling Elvie to the dance floor.  

They’re dancing and laughing like idiots when a tall man approaches them. He is moving to the song and calmly smoking a cigarette while he watches the girls, eyes glued to (y/n)’s form in specific. She doesn’t hear a word Elvira is saying over the music as she stares back at the guy, so distracted she accidentally knocks over a waiter’s tray behind her, making a huge mess. (y/n) apologizes quickly and starts clumsily picking things up on the floor, while the mysterious guy crouches down and helps her with it. She smiles shyly and they finish fixing everything in place.  

She thanks him softly and turns to go back to her table, but he grabs her arm gently. “In a hurry?”, he questions playfully, an amused smile on his full lips.  

She blushes. “Oh, no, I was just…”  

He shakes his head. “You’re a little shy, I can see that. Let’s put an end to this shyness now, come with me!”, he walks off, dragging her to the bar. “So, what’s your name?”, he asks, signaling for the bartender to bring them two beers.  

“(y/n).”  

“Frank, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their drinks arrive and they make a toast, while she takes a big swig. Frank smiles and pulls her by the waist, taking her by surprise. “Lost your shyness yet?” 

“I...” 

He attacks her lips before she can finish, leaving a wet, beer-tasting kiss on her mouth. (y/n) has to make a tremendous effort not to drop the beer from her hand, making way for his tongue to explore every corner of her mouth. Frank separates them just to take another sip of his drink and starts kissing her neck. Elvira’s eyes from afar give her a surprised and mischievous look. She flashes her a smug smile, but as soon as she does, her friend’s expression completely shuts down and now it’s one of sheer panic. (y/n) frowns and turns to look at where she’s staring so terrified.  

She’s greeted by Tony’s aggressive hands pulling her away from Frank in a sudden movement. He drags her out of the man’s arms, keeping her behind his body. Tony then hits him with his fist. (y/n) widens her eyes with the amount of punches Tony is throwing at Frank and tries to get him off the guy, but he pushes her away. She looks around and people surround them, watching the fight in silence and astonishment, however no one moves a finger to help break it up. Of course. It’s Scarface.  

No one would dare stop him.  

Frank managed to leave a blow on Tony’s stomach, but he couldn’t dodge another punch to the jaw and fell to the ground, looking dizzy. When she thought Tony would back down and leave it at that, he went over to Frank’s body on the floor and striking him wildly again. She was desperate for help to separate them, but nobody did anything. (y/n) tried to pull Tony away from him and he pushed her once more, only this time she didn’t give up so easily. She grabbed his arm with all the strength of a slightly intoxicated person and made him look at her. The fury in his eyes slowly seemed to soften and he dropped Frank’s semi-conscious body. 

Once on his feet, Tony looks around him, menacingly showing his gun tucked into his pants. Everyone scatters like startled ants immediately, without him having to say a word. When they’re alone, he glances at Frank one more time and looks back at (y/n). His anger seems to have returned.  

“I wish I done that to you”, he begins, his thick voice making her shiver. She takes a step back, but he grabs her by the neck and pulls her close again. “Lucky for you, I’m doing good lately, baby. So I’m generous, you know? But you both should be fucking dead now.” (y/n)’s hands start to shake and her eyes water instantly at his words, fear taking over her entire body. She tries to free herself from his grip, but he won’t let her. He continues, “you are mine. Ain’t no one touching you but me from now on. Got it?” 

“Yes”, she chokes, tears falling down her face uncontrollably.  

Tony, however, doesn’t seem to feel any remorse for her deplorable state. Finally his hand lets go of her neck and she takes a deep breath, sobs leaving her throat aggressively. (y/n) gets as far away as possible and before she knows it, she’s running away. He doesn’t come after her, which she mentally thanks. She felt so scared and angry at that moment that she couldn’t think of anything but running, running for her life.  

♡♡♡ 

(y/n) got home and locked the door thoroughly. She isolated in her room and cried herself to sleep. It was dawn when she managed to close her eyes and rest for a few hours, only to be woken up by a loud noise outside the next day. There were loud bangs on the door, nearly knocking it over. Her breath hitched and she made sure to lock the bedroom door. Maybe she could just pretend nobody was home.  

Another banging thud, now it sounded like someone jumping on the floor. Then there was yet another furious knocking, this time on the front door. Her stomach turned. A bang on the window echoed in her ears and (y/n) began to cry profusely, sobbing in terror. A crash startled her and her eyes widened seeing the wooden blinds breaking in front of her.  

She unlocked the bedroom door in a second and ran behind her apartment, opening the kitchen door as it lead to emergency stairs. Footsteps approached once she managed to get out and run across someone’s yard. She looked for somewhere low enough for her to reach so she could climb, finding a little doghouse in the corner. There wasn’t anybody or anything around, thankfully. However, as soon as she started to take off, big arms grabbed her waist from behind, pulling down her body violently.  

She kicked as hard as she could, but Tony wouldn’t let go. He towed her back into her house and locked the kitchen door, dragging her by the arm back to her room. He threw the girl on the bed without any delicacy and looked at her from where he was standing. She continued to cry copiously, all her strength quickly draining away. (y/n) crouched close to the headboard and watched him sit on the far side, studying her in silence.  

“Crying ain’t doing you no good, baby.” She turns her face to the wall and he walks in her direction, crawling until he’s next to her. He whispers in her ear, “you can’t win for losing.” 

“Shut up!”, she pushes him away, taking Tony by surprise. He looks at her with raised eyebrows, but he doesn’t look annoyed.  

He looks pleased.  

“C’mon, now”, Tony approaches again, grabbing her chin to make her eyes stay on his. “Now, now you look like the fucking girl I met in that station. Badass baby”, (y/n) tries to pull away, but he doesn’t let her and gives her a forced peck. His stubble scratches her face and she grimaces, dodging and breaking the contact. This seems to irritate him deeply, because in the next second, his palm meets the soft skin of her cheek and the sensation burns. Tony pointed in her direction, warning, “don’t you ever do that again.”  

“I do whatever the hell I want”, she spits out, not caring about the consequences at this point.  

He gets hold of her neck, glaring. “No. You do what I want, you bitch.” 

(y/n) smirks, mockingly. “You think you’re offending me? How cute.”  

Tony then slaps her again, this time much harder, and she laughs out loud at his fragile ego. She pulls herself together and faces him again, pretending not to be shaken. Tears have dried under her eyes and she only cracks a half smile, taking in his scowling features. “You men are such a joke, so easy to figure out.”  

“Careful, baby”, he says in a warning tone, making her chuckle once more.  

“Who do I have to be careful with, you?”, she asks smugly, smacking the hand he lifted to squeeze her neck again. Tony is surprised, although he’s trying really hard not to show it. “You...”, she continues, lightly touching the collar of his shirt. “Who would never hurt me with a gun?”, (y/n) mimics his thick voice. He seems to get annoyed at that and takes her hand away from where it was, which makes her smile victoriously.  

Okay, so it’s not so bad having a criminal with a crush on her.  

“Shut up”, he orders.  

She simply shrugs and brings her face closer to his. Tony places a gentle kiss on her lips and excitement burns inside her as his palm goes straight to her ass, squeezing it. “Hold up, cowboy”, (y/n) mutters, although not really caring about his impatience. “Wanna explain to me what was that about last night?”  

“Told you, you’re mine.” He reiterates casually, trying to pull her onto his lap and kiss her, but she doesn’t allow it. Tony frowns again, speaking with a heavy accent, “what is it now?”  

“You almost killed the guy”, (y/n) points out. She didn’t want to make him feel remorseful or anything, she knew he just wouldn’t; it was all on her curiosity about the sick psychology in his head. She touches the collar of his shirt again and looks into his eyes, the most sincere she’s been so far, and practically begs, “what do you want from me, Tony?”  

Something very similar to confusion runs through his brown orbs, but it’s only for a millisecond, as he looks at her sternly right after. His hands remain promptly by each side of his body, and it makes her a little bit relieved he’s respecting her wishes. It’s a start. 

Of what exactly, (y/n)?  

“I want you, baby”, he says. His voice doesn’t betray any kind of vulnerability, though his gaze conveys less solemnity than his words. She watches him in silence until her eyes inevitably water. Tony frowns and touches her face quickly, holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “What is it?”  

How can he not see? How does he have the courage to even ask what happened? Or are his actions merely impulsive and completely thoughtless, is that it? Does he not know that he was just hurting, hitting her? Does he not know that he was just insulting (y/n) and treating her like a goddamn worthless object? Because the same hands that slapped her cheek minutes ago are now hugging her and stroking her back, as if in an attempt to ease her loud sobs.  

She hears his voice in her ear, soothing, kissing her neck lightly. Maybe it’s all a dream, a hallucination in her head as she’s unconscious with this man doing God-knows-what to her. But it is not. His touch is as real as it was the last time, his pleasure intertwining with hers in a magnificent, if improvised, dance. And it’s as real as the first time their lips met, in a sheer display of power and dominance on his part, but which now reminded her only of a caress exchanged between two lovers. A comfort.  

“(y/n)...”, his deep voice calls again, however her eyes are glazed over the shattered window in front of her. He lifts her face to look at him and there’s a kind of desperation in his expression, even if it’s held back by pride greater than his own ego, if that’s possible. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“I know.” She hears herself speak, sort of in reflex, since it was true. She knew deep down he didn’t mean to hurt her. Maybe at first, yes, but then... Following that afternoon, a new chapter of this crazy story began to unfold. And they are entering one more after last night.  

“It’s true”, he reenforces, and (y/n) really wishes she had the strength to tell him that it’s okay, she understood, but the truth is that she was tired. Sold out. It had been so long since she had slept or eaten anything and she felt her limbs giving up on supporting her body at any moment. “(y/n)”, Tony insists, yet his voice is already a low sound that becomes more and more distant in her mind.  

Soon she doesn’t feel anything anymore.  

♡♡♡ 

The first time (y/n) opens her eyes, everything is blurry. On the second attempt, she notices a figure sitting on the chair beside her bed and a dim light coming from the window. On the third blink, she realized she had probably passed out—for how long was her first question, as the sun outside seemed to point at one or two in the afternoon.  

Tony was silently watching her as she positioned herself and felt her head almost explode into a thousand pieces. Her throat was dry, an unparalleled taste of shit in her mouth reminding her she hadn’t even brushed her teeth due to everything that had happened that day since she woke up. A sigh escaped her lips and (y/n) closed her eyes again, giving up on her efforts to sit up against the headboard. She felt so weak. Her fingers were trembling slightly and she was freezing to death, even with the sun at its peak and all the covers over her on the bed. She felt dizziness enveloping her body and thought she was going to faint again, but a large, rough, careful hand touched her arm.  

Tony looked hesitant, worried, recluse even. His eyes didn’t leave hers for a second and she felt slightly invaded, undressed as his irises watched over her without blinking. She stared at his palm on her forarm and tried to calm down, although her heart hammered inside her chest. “You didn’t eat anything today, did you?”, he asks, but it’s a rhetorical question.  

Tony then leaves her alone, not waiting for an answer, and returns with a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. (y/n) stares at the image in front of her and feels like chukling, but she contains herself. Instead, she sits up with some difficulty as he hands her the meal, returning to his rightful place on the pink chair. She takes a couple of bites and a huge relief rushes through her body as the food reaches her stomach. It had been almost a day since she had anything to eat. She didn’t even know how she didn’t vomit her ass off with all the alcohol she had last night.  

The girl sipped the juice as she paid more attention to her surroundings. Tony took care of her while she was unconscious and even cooked. He, the hitman who scared even the most dangerous gangsters in Miami, cooked her a stroganoff and made her an orange juice. It sounded like a scene from a sugary romance movie.  

“It’s just a hangover”, she finally speaks up, her throat still a little dry.  

“It’s not”, Tony turns around and sits leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, looking at her intently. She gazes at her plate and continues to eat in silence, while he continues, “I’m real sorry, (y/n).” If she hadn’t been so tired, she would have spit out her juice in surprise. (y/n) glanced at him completely horrified, as if he had confessed to an atrocity. Tony stays with the same solemn expression, a little less proud now.  

“For what?”, a shiver runs down her legs. She didn’t want to be insistent, but curiosity was killing her inside.  

Tony, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered by the question. “For hitting you. And for doing all of that last night.”  

“You shouldn’t apologize to me for what you did”, she mutters bitterly. 

Tony only shrugs. “I didn’t mean to hit you.” He repeats, and she closes her eyes when all that tangle of feelings hits her chest once more. He reaches over and takes her hand, giving her a pleading look. “I swear I ain’t ever laying a finger on you again, baby. You gotta believe me.”  

Her eyes water involuntarily and she holds his hand back firmly, looking at him with a half-broken smile, trying in vain to give him some comfort. “I know”, she begins, voice cracking at the end. “I know, okay? You were angry. I understand.”  

Tony scowls and shakes his head. “No. (y/n), that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t...” 

“I know. It was wrong, Tony, I know, but you didn’t think straight. And neither did I, actually. It happened, there’s no reason to dwell on it. Everything is fine, really.” She looks into his eyes once more and smiles when he nods after a while, still a little hesitant. The girl brings his hand to her lips and kisses it slowly.  

He smiles weakly. “You scared the fuck out of me, you know”, he mumbles, and there’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “I thought I did something to make you pass out. The fear, I don’t know...”  

“That wasn’t it. I’m not afraid of you, Tony”, she assured him, since it wasn’t a total lie. When he was just him, without that domineering, abusive criminal side, she wasn’t afraid of Tony. No longer. (y/n) sighs and finishes her meal, setting her plate on the table beside her, feeling considerably better. “Come here”, she extends her arms to him and Tony goes without blinking, hiding his face in her neck and lying with her on the bed.  

She didn’t know exactly what that meant. Having sex with a murderer who only mistreated her already wasn’t so understandable, but having some kind of relationship with him? It sounded pathetic in her mind. It’s not like he would even want anything to do with her besides sex, but she couldn’t believe that as the seconds went by and he kissed her neck so softly, apologizing endlessly for his transgressions, mumbling that he would never hurt her again, that she’d never need to be afraid of him again...  

Her head was going to explode.  

(y/n) looked down to meet his gaze and stroked his hair, smiling like a lovestruck idiot. She just couldn’t believe this was happening—and somehow she did. Because of course she wouldn’t resist for long. Even when she was shaking like a leaf, still she couldn’t fight his caresses, imagine it now that Tony seems so willing to make up for all his mistakes? 

“Antonio...”, he mutters, barely audible, making her frown. He gives her a small smile and kisses her, mumbling against her lips, “my name.” 

“Really?”, (y/n) asks in disbelief, since now she was probably the only person in town who got that information, but Tony seemed more than comfortable sharing it with her.  

He’s still looking at her with the same little smile on his face. “Really. Why?” He lifts his body to rest on one arm, staring at the girl with some amusement.  

She grins and kisses him again, leaving several pecks on his stubble. “For nothing. It’s just a really nice name.”  

Her eyebrows dance and he laughs, making her insides melt at the sound of his laughter. It was the first time she heard it and she didn’t want to hear any other sound for the rest of her life. It was such a full 180 from the big, bad Scarface. 

(y/n) knew “I want you” was very far from “I love you”, but that knowledge didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat whenever she remembered those words. Besides, even if the latter was the case, it was just never going to be that simple with Tony. She looked at his sparkling brown eyes and let out a deep, dreamy sigh. She was down hard for that dangerous, dangerous man, yet there was nothing but softness inside of her as he held her into his arms. What he did away from her could be as ugly as it came to be, and it still would never compare to how warm she was in his presence—be it for the anger, for the lust or for the comfort he made her feel. So, it was fine. She could handle it.  

She’s always been a bit of a troubleshooter, anyways. 

#scarface #tony montana #scarface x reader #tony montana x reader #tony montana imagine #al pacino #al pacino x reader

[melis-writes]

Blood Money (Tony Montana x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut) Chapter 1 – By Chance and Fate.

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

"You know how to protect yourself." / “I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face."

In the wrong place at the wrong time, you can hardly call your visit to Havana as a vacation but to secure your families legacy in empty promises and a forgotten home. From the moment you first laid eyes on Tony, you knew you'd never forget his face or his name. Tomorrow, Tony and Manny would be as good as American, leaving Cuba for good but with their minds set on your hometown in Miami. Having saved your life in the blink of an eye, you're set to repay the favor by finding out just who Tony Montana is, and why he's looking and waiting for you.

[WARNINGS]: Explicit depictions & themes of violence / Minor character death / Explicit mention of injury & blood / Guns.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: It's finally here, just as promised!! 🥴🥰 The first chapter of my newest multi-chapter fic and it's all about Tony and the reader! You can expect a lot of sexy, kinky, dirty smut upcoming in this one. 🥵🥵 I honestly wasn't planning on doing a multi-chapter fic for Tony but then the ideas hit and I couldn't help myself lmao. Our Reader is Celeste Navarro who was also in my Tony Montana x Reader smut oneshot! ❤️ This fic is gonna be following the entire plot of the film side by side with Tony and Manny with two different endings for you guys to decide which one you prefer too. 😏 Say hello to Chapter 1!

With a taste for success and dollar bills, Tony Montana’s drug empire grew in vast wealth, power and influence by your side as the kingpin’s lover. From sharing an intimate history in Cuba, you and Manny Ribera were the only ones to believe and support Tony from rags to riches. Embroiled in the same lifestyle and sharing enemies, you and Tony come to build your empire and world together with the threat of it collapsing from the inside. As partnership turns to betrayal and thrill to danger, you find yourself in-between ultimatums and sacrifices for the man you love.

[ Havana, Cuba, 1983 ] 

‘This was supposed to be paradise. For me. For mama, and for Gina. Home was enough.’

Abandoned homes once filled with growing families, shattered windows only revealing the emptiness inside and barred doors to ward off curiosity and anyone leading from the path of nostalgia surrounds the streets in which Tony and Manny grew up.

‘I never knew my father well. I forgot him. I don’t care. He left us, I left him too.’

Spending their childhood playing ball with the other children for hours on end after school with a tight-knit community, neighbors who knew one another and looked out for each other now only to see it as nothing but an abandoned slum puts nothing but resent and disappointment in Tony and Manny’s hearts.

‘Then Mama and Gina left too, to paradise. Didn’t wait for me but I’m coming. I know then, I know now. My time was coming.’

Abandoned by most residents due to poverty and safety concerns, all Tony and Manny’s childhood neighborhood can do is serve as nostalgia and a final goodbye—nothing more.

‘I’m gonna go too. Make my own paradise. Trust nobody but me. I be the millionaire that thank nobody. That’s what I wanna be.’

Dressed in a pair of slacks and a white beater top stained with sweat from the heat and humidity of the day, this is nothing but a trip down memory lane for the last time since Tony and Manny might as well live it down.

“This no fucking family street no more, man,” Tony mumbles, looking up at the rotting wooden planks barring up doors and smashed windows; loose, twisted nails sticking out of crumbling walls with chunks of chipping paint peeled off. “This a fucking dump.”

“They ruined this place, man,” Manny frowns at his surroundings, realizing how noticeably dingy and disgusting the block appears with shadows cast over it from the setting sun. “We was right here, playing together in the streets.”

“Mama used to watch us up from there, remember?” Tony points up at his childhood home, no different from the rest remaining to be eyesores down the block. “When we play ball with the kids from the other neighborhood. Now look at all that.”

Whether some of the surrounding buildings may still be occupied as hideouts or drug houses are another story altogether, but it’s a bitter visit for the two prepared to never return back to Havana again.

“Knew it like the back of my hand,” Tony’s eyes dart over his neighbor’s worn down, abandoned home. “Mama always say gotta get through these kinda places to get what you want.”

“Mama didn’t see no communists coming, man,” Manny kicks a pebble in front of him glumly.

Poverty wasn’t completely unknown in these streets, but the bond and sense of community overpowered everything else.

When Tony and Manny were just children growing up, they witnessed firsthand for themselves families helping other families, neighbors taking turns to watch the kids out in the streets, keeping the neighborhood clean, and supporting every resident that one could.

But with Castro, the communists, and rebellions pouring through incessantly over the last many years, the next time poverty struck Tony and Manny’s hometown, it struck hard and was here to outlast every last resident.

Folks gathered all they had and wept through their goodbyes to all they knew was once their home but had to move on for their own safety. The last thing anyone wanted was trouble or to see murderers and petty thieves littering the streets.

Nobody looked back, no matter how much they wanted to, and the same was also said for Tony and Manny’s families too.

Manny’s family moved to an entirely different city altogether, but Tony’s mother and sister were easily and quickly approved to immigrate to the United States.

Tony saw the streets as an escape and knew his country like the back of his hand, but his absence from home and disobedience towards his mother was the exact reason why Tony found out the hard way that he was staying behind; everyone had already left and only looked out for themselves.

Tony had a deadbeat, absent father who already officially abandoned the family years back, but with his mother and sister leaving for the United States, Tony would have to be stupid to stick around in Havana any longer.

Memories or not, this neighborhood can’t mean anything to Tony and Manny now. Since the two left, they stayed in a house together and never looked back—waiting for their chance to immigrate to the United States too.

After months of bickering, confusion, and paperwork, Tony and Manny refused to relent and give up; they were determined on the process from beginning to end.

Tonight officially marks Tony and Manny’s last night in Havana, let alone Cuba. The two are set to board a ship bound for the United States, leaving everything behind for good as they sought.

Tomorrow, Tony and Manny may just consider themselves as good as Americans. Tomorrow, they’d start a new life and forget Havana—forget home—and gladly leave everything behind.

That’s what’s supposed to happen. That’s what’s waiting for Tony and Manny and all they were waiting for was an opportunity to get out and go into a paradise of their own in Miami, Florida.

Tony was never supposed to meet you. You were never supposed to see each other or cross each other’s paths. Tony wasn’t supposed to wait for you more than he wanted to wait for anything in his life.

It should have never reached a point where Tony couldn’t live in his paradise and call the empire he built up for himself home without having you in it too.

You think you’re simply in the wrong place at the wrong time but you’re exactly where Tony could ever want you to be right now. All Tony wishes he can do is change the circumstances.

~

“It wasn’t exactly home to us, but it was home to your grandfather. He loved Havana. For him it was a bit of paradise, so he decided to invest in it.”

Coming to a stop in your tracks, you pull out the crumpled note from your purse that your father gave to you shortly before you planned your trip to Havana for one reason alone—to visit the address scribbled upon it.

“It’s a villa, mostly used as a vacation residence but it's at the heart of the neighborhood. Your grandfather spoke very fondly of it up until his death, but I’ve never even seen so much as a photograph or deed of the estate before.”

You can practically imagine your father’s shock and disappointment if he was here with you right now. Standing at the very address the villa is supposed to be located is nothing but ruins and vandalism—a neighborhood intentionally left to rot.

“Is it home to you? To us?”

After all, you have no other reason to visit Havana other than to make sense of your family’s legacy and put the pieces together and despite having low hopes for what you’d find, you never expected to come face to face with nothingness—with destruction.

“It can’t be, can it? We have no connections to Havana. We don’t know anyone. It can’t be home to us of all people now.”

Nothingness has never been worth saving and you never felt it becoming your truth with every step you took down this lifeless neighborhood just to get here.

Greeted by chunks of glass sticking through dried mud, torn cloth, remnants of smashed belongings, broken nails, and garbage by your feet, there’s nothing that can possibly feel like home here to you now.

‘The least I can do is let father know.’ You frown at the address upon the note, only imagining the plot of land here can be sold eventually if this place ever gets cleaned up, but still unable to push past and ignore the swelling disappointment in your heart knowing you’ll forever be barred from appreciating what your grandfather loved so much in the past.

Only the calming evening breeze brushing up against you and taking away torn newspapers on the street can be heard with the distant sound of a dog barking from down the block now.

You’re neither familiar nor used to Havana; not the feeling of home that may have been here, not the environment, not the people, and not what seems to be the sounds of an empty street upon an abandoned neighborhood that deceives you so.

Eyes linger over you from the rubble of a half-burned-down home, well concealed and knowing where to remain to watch your every movement from the shadows promised by the evening hours set in.

There’s nothing you can do to appear inconspicuous—like you’re a nobody. Trained eyes from an experienced thief knows a tourist when he sees one, especially a wealthy American tourist.

Having someone like you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time only lets those with ill intentions benefit with ease, and this town’s thief isn’t hesitating to make you his next victim.

Sighing quietly to yourself, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment as you slip the note back into your pocket.

Upon opening your eyes again, you stare back down at the rubble of drywall and shrapnel from damaged and destructed homes in front of you—mixed and clumped up amidst one another.

‘This could be from anybody’s home. This could mean nothing.’ Barely having an idea of what to do or look at you, you lean down and pick up a chunk of drywall that appears to be deliberately smashed out of a home.

‘But this could have been my home.’ Still, your heart ultimately feels indifference rather than any kind of relief or sadness.

Without having any connections or memories bound to this place, you simply can’t mourn what isn’t there.

You can’t help but wonder what happened to such a grand estate so highly spoken of after all of this time, but it’ll make more sense to your father than anyone else.

‘This is all that’s left of here now.’ You run your hand over the cracked drywall, giving your head a shake. ‘It’s too late to tell what happened here, but everything’s gone. Everyone’s gone.’ 

“Tony, c’mon man,” Manny gives Tony’s shoulder a nudge, “let’s head back. Ain’t nothin’ left here.”

“I know there’s nothing, man,” Tony grumbles, gesturing towards the streets. “That’s why we here, you know that. Look at this. I wanna see this place, just one last time.”

“Making memories?” Manny chuckles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“Fuck kinda memories anyone can make here,” Tony scoffs, “they say where we going is paradise. Miami. Mama moved us to Havana, says this is paradise. No fuckin’ paradise look like this, man.”

“No, man,” Manny agrees, shaking his head. “This a dead man’s street now.”

Manny’s eyes fall upon the tightly boarded-up front doors, barring everything in and refusing to let anything out on each and every crumbling home down the block.

“No paradise left here for us, and you know I ain’t ever gonna come back. No way, man.” Tony lets out a huff of frustration.

“Oh yeah?” Manny grins back, “not for visit either?”

“Visit what, man?” Tony furrows his brows, “when I make it, I don’t wanna come back and see this again but I always remember where I come from, you know,” Tony points at his chest, “I never forget. I can think about it. I don’t gotta come back and see it.”

“Me too man, me too,” Manny shrugs—the smile beginning to fade off his face. “I don’t wanna feel like no fish out of water.”

Meanwhile, as you’re surrounded by a mountain of rubble and shrapnel in a blocked-off street, the only option for you to get back to your hotel would be to turn around and make your way down the same street Tony and Manny are on.

With no other exits or places to turn to, you’re hardly aware of the lurking thief well hidden from your sight but directly in Tony’s perspective just from where he stands alone.

Before you can even spin around or move out of the way as a reflex for hearing footsteps suddenly grow so loud behind you, you hear the voice of your stalker before you feel or see him.

“Put it down, princess.” A smoker speaking through a husky low tone threatens you.

You feel the thief’s chest pressing into your shoulder blade, prompting you to remain as still as possible.

Had you flinched just now, the very tip of the thief’s blade he teasingly presses against your face may have just sliced your cheek clean.

You swallow hard, immediately feeling your heart thundering in your chest from being caught unaware in complete shock—anxious and terrified as your mind attempts to process what’s happening to you.

“Don’t move now,” the thief chuckles quietly over your shoulder.

The tips of your ears and the nape of your neck prickle hot in response, attempting to think through just how you’d be able to bash this man’s face in with the chunk of rubble in your hand without getting stabbed directly in the face.

“This isn’t a tourism center, sweetheart. What you doin’ in the rough neighborhoods?” The thief begins to slowly move his hand towards your cross-body purse by your hip.

“You’ll see. For now, we say goodbye to these streets—” Tony points out, all the more confident of his future solely outside of Havana.

“What, man?” Manny blinks, noticing Tony immediately coming to a halt down the middle of the street.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Tony’s muscles stiffen as a threatening scowl sours over his expression—looking towards you just a short distance down and around the corner.

Petty criminals loitering down in old neighbors are all the same to Tony and many others, but Tony and Manny both recognize the face of this one slowly inching his way toward you.

“You know her, man?” Manny asks quietly, whispering.

Both Manny and Tony remain completely still but poised to jump in and sprint down at any moment.

“No,” The glare over Tony’s expression has turned into a death stare as he analyzes the slow, creeping movements of the thief using the noise of the city streets around him to his advantage. “See this fuckin’ guy again back down here—fuckin’ asshole want another tourist as a victim.”

“Don’t wanna say anything?” Observant just as much as he’s sly, the thief begins to press the tip of the blade further into your cheek as he notices you gripping the rubble chunk tighter in your hand. “C’mon, talk to me.”

Your stare towards the mountain of rubble before you is vacant and unfocused, simply waiting for the right moment to strike and lunge out of the way when the thief least expects it.

“I can make this quick,” the thief places his grim-covered hand over your leather purse. “Tourists ain’t short of any money and you won’t find nothin’ down here. Empty your pockets. Maybe I won’t hurt you too much—”

“HEY! Fuck you, man!” Tony calls out from behind, sprinting down the street with Manny as he grips his pistol tucked behind him in the waistband of his slacks.

With the thief recognizing Tony’s voice and being momentarily stunned by the sight of two men rushing directly towards him, every precious second in-between has bought you all the more time to defend yourself.

Without hesitation, you swing your arm back and smash the chunk of rubble in your hand over the thief’s forehead twice with as much force as you can muster.

Before Tony and Manny can approach the two of you, the thief cries out in pain before slumping to the floor disoriented and beginning to heavily bleed from his forehead.

You back off from the man as much as you can, just a moment before Tony and you both make split-second eye contact then see the thief trying to reach for his knife over the pavement.

“Don’t fuckin’ think so!” Tony aims his gun at the thief’s legs, firing two shots into both kneecaps with impeccable accuracy. “Lady put you down for a fuckin’ reason!”

Your eyes bulge in horror as you watch the thief howl in pain—blood spurting from his shattered kneecaps and instantly immobilizing him and all of his movements.

Still clutching onto the chunk of rock in your hand, you stare back at the two strangers in front of you with caution but it’s more than clear to you that they aim to help you rather than rob or hurt you too.

“Damn,” Manny huffs, scowling down at the thief. “You again, huh? Fuck is your name? George something? Fuck you doing down here again?”

“NO! NO, STOP!” The thief shrieks the moment Tony takes another step toward him.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit,” Tony kicks up gravel towards him, cocking his pistol back and aiming it directly at the thief’s head this time. “Got tired of digging through old rocks, now you chasing women, huh? What I tell you, huh?! This is my neighborhood, so if you fuck with it, you fuck with me!”

“I-I don’t—I was going—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tony shouts over him, wrapping his finger around the trigger.

“Dead end, man,” Manny shakes his head at the thief; his eyes trailing upward to meet yours for the first time.

“I teach you what happens when you fuck with my neighborhood,” Tony grits his teeth, pulling the trigger.

‘Holy fuck!’ You flinch from the impact of blood and brain matter splattering around the three of you, painting over the layers of dust upon the rubble mountain just behind you.

Tony’s expression and disposition almost immediately cool as he glances down at his gun with a hint of amusement in his eyes—tucking it behind him once again before turning to face you with Manny as if nothing just happened.

You breathe heavily, attempting to make sense of everything that occurred in front of you within just a few seconds—now standing just a few feet away from a corpse and two armed men curious to see you more than anything else.

Both men before you are complete strangers but from appearances alone, you’re already mistaking them for brothers.

Your eyes fall upon Tony and Tony only, taking into account his sweaty and frustrated demeanor and fierce attitude—drenched in grease and grime from the Havana heat and filth of the city.

The fading scar slashed over Tony’s left eye immediately attracts your attention but your newfound attraction to this man begins to grow all the more apparent to you now with each passing moment.

“Nice weapon,” Manny chuckles, gesturing to the chunk of rubble in your hand. “But no match for Tony’s gun.”

You clear your throat quietly, dropping the piece of rubble as your eyes dart over to Manny’s.

Manny’s hair is a disheveled mix of gel and sweat combed back and he carries a mischievous grin over his lips.

Taller than Tony but sharing the same lean, slim build, you notice a genuinely friendly and playful look in Manny’s expression and hear genuine care in his voice whereas with barely any conversation in or knowing who these two men are, its already become clear to you that Tony may as well be the “tough guy” between the two, but with no need to pretend.

“Hey,” Tony gives Manny a nudge, rolling his eyes. “Gotta give her credit. How was that, huh?” Tony smirks at you, impressed. “That was a good move. You know how to protect yourself.”

“I have to,” you reply back, still standing your ground and unaware of it.

“Good, I like that,” Tony grins back. “Lot of guys like that in other neighborhoods, but not lot of guys like me. We gotta look out for another, you know? I here, Manny here—” Tony gestures to Manny, revealing his name to you. “This is our place. We gotta do the lookout. You okay?” Tony begins to approach you.

“Yeah,” you remain still, steadying your breathing. “Just… Startled, that’s all.”

Tony’s eyes dart up and down your body from head to toe, looking for injury but also taking in the sight of what he likes at the same time. “Okay, good. Little cockroach didn’t hurt our new friend either.”

“You a tourist?” Manny asks.

“Barely,” you answer back, dusting off your hands. “I came here to see if the estate my father inherited existed.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tony purses his lips, “lot of tourists come down from time to time for that but see—” Tony gestures towards the pile of rubble to your side. “Nothing left. They always leave empty-handed. All gone.”

“This a junkyard now, man,” Manny agrees, nodding. “Nothing here no more.”

“Fuck’s sake,” you sigh to yourself in relief, touching your cheek where the petty criminal was about to dig his blade into. “There’s nothing, there’s just nothing. All of this for nothing.”

“Heh, no danger, no reward, huh?” Tony chuckles to himself, “but no problem for you. You an American. One made of money.”

“And what’s it to you?” You raise a brow, beginning to grow somewhat offended by the way Tony’s so openly and casually speaking to you.

“Nothing,” Tony holds back a laugh as Manny looks down at the ground with a wide smile on his lips. “Just saying, we won’t be so different later. We not gonna be down here no more, like you. No, Castro fucked this place good. We calling America home, starting tomorrow.”

“Miami, right?” It’s not the first you’ve heard of it, and certainly not the first from Havana.

“Oh, you know?” Manny blinks, looking up at you.

“You two would neither be the first nor the last, I’m assuming,” you reply back. “Yeah, I know something about it. I live in Miami myself. There’s a camp down in Florida already.”

“So you know where we going?” Tony seems all the more amused. “American tourist one step ahead of us. What you know about the place?”

“I know that you can be in that camp for longer than you ever thought you could be anywhere,” you tell him, “for months on end, waiting to get approved and get into the process for a green card. That’s what you’re after, isn’t it? You can barely do a thing without it there anyway.”

“Well, yeah,” Manny shrugs his shoulders, “we gonna live in the country.”

“You know a lot, not just little,” Tony’s gaze over you turns curious, “maybe you help us, huh? Like you Americans say, I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

“I can’t say,” you stare back at Tony and Manny. “At least not here, and not now. The least you two could tell me are your names.”

“Tony,” Tony points to his chest with a devilish grin. “Antonio Montana.”

“Manny Ribera,” Manny says with a beaming smile.

“And you?” Tony’s eyes momentarily dart up from your chest to your eyes. “What you call yourself?”

“Celeste Navarro,” you introduce yourself—noticing Tony’s curious, wandering eyes already.

“Celeste Navarro…” Tony repeats to himself, “my first American friend and she wanna help me. All Americans like you must be so nice.”

“Only if you know who to talk to,” you crack a smile, nodding. “But you think I owe you two a favor now.”

“A favor? No, sweetheart,” a smirk forms over Tony’s lips, “not me, not Manny. Nothing.” Tony nudges the corpse of the thief aside with his foot, rolling the body over. “And you know, no worry about that. Bodies here disappear overnight. You know how it is. It dangerous here, so we can’t say it a favor. Just what you have to do. That’s why I carry one on me,” Tony pats his gun tucked in the back waistband of his slacks. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Tony,” Manny mutters, nudging his back. “Don’t say it like that, man.”

“I never said I was ungrateful,” you’re unphased by the comment. “I’m certainly not.”

“I know,” Tony rakes a hand through his choppy hair. “I never say goodbye either. I say you’re gonna remember these faces—my face. We not so far from each other, right? Not gonna be.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” you roll your eyes, up to your limit from enough tough guy talk. “But good luck anyway,” clutching your purse, you turn around to face the street and begin heading off.

“Don’t take no scenic route!” Tony shouts back after you.

Ignoring him, you roll your eyes and pick up your pace—only focused on getting the hell out of here and putting this day to rest knowing you could have gotten yourself killed over a pile of rocks and nothing more.

“Wow, man,” Manny cringes, putting his hands behind his back. “That could be better.”

“That was the best, man,” Tony boasts proudly. “You don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what, man?” Manny scoffs, chuckling.

“I thank her, she thank me,” Tony points out, “that’s all. Now if I American like her and I live in Miami—nuh uh, no way, man. No way,” Tony shakes his head, “I no coming down to see pile of rocks here even if someone tell me there’s a big house. No.”

“I don’t know, man,” Manny lets out a deep sigh of relief, “these Americans live different, you know?”

“She gonna see me again,” Tony decides, nodding.

“Tony, seriously—” Manny can no longer hold back his laughter, “it a small world here, huh?”

“Celeste, Celeste…” Tony murmurs, repeating your name. “I say this ‘cause you know how it’s gonna go.” Tony bends down, picking up a blood-stained chunk of rubble. “The police or whatever guys they got in the camps over there not gonna keep us safe. They just gonna ask the questions…”

Tony turns around, staring at the bloody, lifeless corpse of the thief before his feet. “Give you the green card, yes or no, but they gonna ask—” Tony’s eyes meet with Manny’s. “They gonna ask if you know an American, I gonna say yes. I say yes, I know Celeste Navarro. So she gonna see me again, Chico, not because she owe me for killing this cockroach. She gonna see me again because I wanna see her.”

#scarface #scarface 1983 #al pacino #tony montana #tony montana x reader #tony montana x reader smut #tony montana x oc #tony montana smut #scarface x reader #scarface x reader smut #blood money fic #blood money fanfic

[killingick]

People in the slasher community asking slashers to kill their teachers for failing them on a test:

#slashers #21 savage #drake #her loss #test #jokes #jason voorhees #michael myers x y/n #michael myers #pinhead #brahms #brahms the boy #slashers x reader #chucky #jeepers creepers #scarface #slashers memes #slashers incorrect quotes

[red--story-writer]

I love what what you did with the pickle x reader think you can do a part 2 of the THE MATE OF THE STRONGEST like maybe pickle been telling his mate what he been doing ever since he been unfrozen and all that while pickle is still be a very protective of her because she is carrying his child maybe Baki came them one day to say hello and to see how there doing and maybe reader rub Baki hair because her motherly instinct and if this ok with you maybe she say I love you to pickle and kiss him sorry if it to munch

*crack my knuckles* your wish is my command my dear

I'm just not quiete sure how to make Pickle talk since he basicaly doesn't but I can try it in a other way

' the mate of the strongest '

part 2

a few weeks have passed since the world found out that Pickle is not alone anymore.

Pickle and his mate are still in the park, The police forces are still standing around the borders of the park, protecting and taking care of the safety of Pickle and her.

the fighters of the underground arena visit the primal couple now and then, bring them some presents...well...meat, mostly meat.

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•

•

"good evening gentleman..do mind letting me pass?" Baki stands infront the guards asking in a respectfull manner.

"Baki, you know we can't let you to them in the evening" one of the guards answer him.

"I have my reason..so please let me through, or i will have to make my way through." his eyes narrow and his head lowers.

without another word the guards let him pass and Baki makes his way to Pickle and his love.

•

•

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•

she let's out a purr and nuzzles Pickle who's maving his hand and claws gently along her body, his other gently laid on her stomach.

he nuzzles and cleans her but stops as he sees baki coming towards them.

he stands up immediatly and growls loudly, keeping his mate behind him and ready to attack at any minute.

Baki stops a few meters before them "calm it Pickle...you know i mean no harm.." he slowly get's down and sits on his knees, his hands showing to Pickle that he carries no weapons or anything else.

Pickle starts from time to time to accept the fighters but now and then he get's very aggressive at them...maybe because they're male or because of something else..

Pickle still stands his ground but she doesn't..the female get's up and slowly goes to Baki, she tillts her head in curiousity and slowly reaches foer him.

Baki holds still and let's her come close, he knows that when he makes one wrong move, it might end in a terrible fight..

she sits down by Baki with a little smile on her face and lays her hand gently on his hair and Casualy starts caressing and patting him.

Baki's eyes widen and he looks up to her, she is like in a trance..she caresses all over him. she suddenly pulls him close to her and starts cleaning him as if he's her cub.

Pickle stands behind her, watching completly confused.

she turns to Pickle and calls for him with purring and coosing. Pickle hesitates at first but then sits down next to his mate. she nuzzles him and looks at Baki with a bright smile who meanwhile lays in her arms like a baby.

Pickle looks at him confused and hiss at him but stops as his love gives him a slap on the back of his head.

#reader #story #character #character x reader #baki #kaoru hanayama #baki hanma #doppo orochi #gouki shibukawa #katsumi orochi #baki pickle #pickle #baki son of ogre #baki dou #baki the grappler #baki gaiden scarface #baki gaiden