#bobo x reader

Coco

This is one of the proudest women in the fucking world. So the fact that you’re behind her makes her even more insufferable in that regard. To the others that is, she cannot stop bragging- That’s just a plus for you though

She has no doubt in her mind that she’ll win together with you. You’re perfect for her after all so there is no way that you will slow her down in any way. You two will win together and you will celebrate with each other’s company in the end

This might be the first time riding with you, but the two of you know each other so well by now that she knows, not thinks, knows that it will go perfectly.

Then you have the others finding out about you being Coco’s S/O. They’re actually shocked, what do you mean Coco has a partner? And one she debuts during a race?!...

Actually that’s very in character for her and the moment the others realize this, they all just kind of. Deadpan? I think that’s the best way of saying it. They do congratulate you and her for being together.

The only one who has a problem with it is Bobo. Because how dare his sister not tell him that she has a partner?! He’ll act super obnoxious and dramatic about this fact. Coco just tells you to ignore him.

In the end Coco is just proud of you for being behind her and supporting her like that. She’s so immensely happy that she could show you off like that. Especially because she knows her partner will be the spotlight in every single room.

No, you cannot convince her otherwise. Don’t even try, she might just show you off anymore. Or do if you like being paraded around and the attention you’ll get.

Bobo

“FINALLY!” Yeah no he’s been waiting for a long time for the next race or in general the fact he could race with you behind him. He absolutely loves the fact he can show you off and is literally no better than Coco, even though he’d like to try and deny it often.

He’s making sure everything is absolutely perfect for this and the moment the announcement comes in calling out your and Bobo’s names, he takes all the applause and points at you to get the audience to clap for you as well.

Nobody is surprised that Bobo has a S/O because he literally will not shut the fuck up about you. He absolutely loves talking about you, showing you off, reminding everyone you exist that the moment he shows you off it’s kind of a long time coming.

Coco just greets you after the race, as she’s seen you before and has to hear Bobo constantly talk about you. Please save her, she’s sick and tired. She wishes to talk about literally anything else, even though you’re wonderful.

Either way he’s honestly at his best when you’re behind him, easily swerving and going through the motions of the race. Before you know it, it’s the end of the race and the two of you did amazing as expected.

He will shower you in attention afterwards and is just so happy that you would race with him. Careful though if you’re not much of a racer, he’ll just kind of look at you with batting eyelashes until you’re ready to do it again as he loves racing with you.

Bobo would never push you into doing what you don’t want to do, but he is a bit of a whiny baby about it, trust me. 

Espresso

Will absolutely attack you in kisses the moment you want to race together with him. Oh he would be so incredibly happy and honored and he could just eat you, you’re so cute.

You’d think he’d not be able to be more extravagant with his acts of love and such things like that, and yet here he is making himself shine even more than he usually does, just to look perfect for you when he races with you

Please ask him to do your makeup for the race, trust me he’ll love it so much. He’ll make sure to put extra details in there to make you so beautiful that you’ll definitely take the breath of the audience away.

At this point the competition needs sunglasses with how shiny and bright the two of you are. Which honestly would work in your favor so don’t change anything no matter what anyone says.

I will say that I feel Electra in the background would be so offended that you two are more shiny than his LEDs and like that’s funny so continue to rub it in, it’ll be funny.

With Espresso people finding out about the relationship is the same exact thing as with Bobo: Nobody is surprised. Like at all. He constantly gushes about your beauty and your shared interests and how cute you are when talking about interests he doesn’t understand for a moment.

Doesn’t stop him from continuing to show you off, his talks about you now finally being able to be viewed by every and all trains in the yard as well as the audience. He’s so proud to call you his and he’ll continue to show it off.

Ruhrgold

Super honored, but does give you a bit of a warning with how dangerous it is to race. Especially after last year when he almost was thrown off the railing by Greaseball and absolutely beaten, he’s very hesitant to let his S/O do anything honestly.

After a lot of convincing and ensuring that you’ll be okay, he does agree in the end. He does love the idea of having you behind him, it makes his day even. Be prepared to be very protected though, because he won’t let anyone touch you before, during and after the race. 

People are actually quite shocked about the fact that Ruhrgold has a partner. Everyone would just be surprised as he does seem the one to be open enough to share he has one, but honestly it would just be things slipping his mind as other things are more important to talk about at that moment or other understandable reasons.

Honestly they’d love to meet you though! I think it’s the only proper introduction you’re going to get in this line up honestly. He introduces you to all the engines, kind of blocking you still in case someone thinks they can snatch you away cough GREASEBALL AND ELECTRA COUGH COUGH. 

In the end though he enjoys the race with you. After realizing that you won’t just go down by a little hit he feels a lot better and does his best with you behind him. He’s incredibly proud of you and although he won’t know how to properly say it, he’ll definitely show you how proud he is!

Manga

Very honored that you would want to ride with him. The moment he asked he played it cool, but you could see a spark in his eyes light up as he agreed to race with you.

Will be extremely humble about it and honestly would talk to you about how you would like to be treated during all of this. Would you just like to join him behind him and enjoy the moment like the normal races go? Would you like him to go a bit out of his way to show you off?

The moment the two of you come out, he’ll stick to what you two discussed. He’s polite like that. Although you can practically see him beaming for you to be behind him as the two of you get announced. 

I don’t think people are surprised by the fact that he is together with someone. Manga is pretty mysterious and so people don’t know much about his private life, because of this they know to not expect anything, but also not to cross anything off.

Either way everyone is rather nice to you. Outside of the race that is, we all know how crazy the races can get… and do get.

Manga truly enjoys racing together with you and is just happy that you two participated. As long as you two are safe and have fun, that’s all he really cares about. Obviously he’ll do his best, but he won’t throw a tantrum if he loses. 

He’s just happy he didn’t crash this time-

Turnov

Honestly a bit unsure, after all if you look at just how crazy and intense the races are, you’d understand why he wouldn’t be too happy to just thrust you into that position. After all, if you're a threat, people will want to get rid of you.

After a bit of back and forth he does eventually cave and let you race behind him. Be warned though, if someone even slightly touches you he’s throwing hands. This man will fight for your honor, do not test him.

Honestly I think people would be surprised to see him together with someone. He isn’t really the person to be showing off, so for him to like let the entire world see his partner behind him in the race? It’s shocking to say the least.

The two of you absolutely kill it in the race. As you two are completely in sync as well as a power couple. You won’t let people get in cheap shots and Turnov would rather crash than let anybody touch you.

In the end he shows you off a bit, proud of you. After that he needs to recharge though, instead of celebrating he’ll grab you and have a night in. Enjoying your company.

He’s really sweet, but rather quiet when it comes to post race stuff. He needs to regain his energy and so he makes sure to just take it easy with you so he can properly celebrate with you.

Brexit 

Man’s so happy that he can finally race and he gets to race with you? Double win for him. After all the last time he tried to race he kind of had to drop out so the fact he gets to actually do this now.

Oh how he’ll talk non stop about how he’s super excited to race with you. It’s just so thrilling, the races, with other worthy opponents and with you behind him. He can picture it so clearly already.

The moment the race is on and the two of you get announced I feel most engines are rather shocked at the sight of Brexit together with anyone, but they get over it quickly as they decide to just focus on the race.

Both of you work together rather perfectly and smoothly, but due to the way the race goes you guys don’t particularly win. 

Brexit does not really give a shit though, he was just happy to have raced with you. Normally he cares a lot more about winning and yet he can’t seem to give himself a shit when he’s with you.

He celebrates the race with you either way, winning or losing. He’s just happy you’ve had your first race together and can’t be more proud of you and himself. Expect him to spoil you a bit after everything

Electra

It wasn’t a given that you were going to race with them?- Well. Eh. You’re racing with him, I don’t think you have much of a choice with this diva.

She wants to win, but also looks pretty. You’re her partner so you’d work perfectly with them and you’re fucking eye candy come on you’re racing with him, get your ass in gear.

The first time officially racing with them is still something rather special though. So he makes sure to be extra shiny and such to make sure you are completely pampered before the first race you two will go into together.

Not going to lie the components really pamper you as well and it’s almost like you’re going to prom more than going to your first race with Electra, not that you’re complaining though.

The moment you step out together with them the only shock that comes to everyone, is how Electra pulled another component out of his ass- They truly think you’re one of the components at first and that he had you be home for some reason.

Electra is almost offended, but then again the idea of you as his component rings absolutely right in her ears. Either way she didn’t bother with the other engines and is just set on winning.

The race is everything he wants it to be. Both flashy and fast. Electra is absolutely happy with the end of it and decides to immediately pull his entourage behind him together with you to celebrate. He doesn’t even bother with interviews this time, aren’t you a lucky carriage? 

Greaseball

Oh you know that he would love for you to be behind him while he races. I feel if you’re the one to ask he’d like practically spit out anything he was drinking and then try to keep it cool.

Either way he’d be like practically waiting for you to race behind him. We all know how much he likes showing off his partners. Especially in something as flashy as the races. 

Why didn’t he ask himself? Well he has a pride and reputation to uphold and since he’s seen as the whole heartbreaker he waited for you to ask. As well as he totally didn’t want to accidentally force you- what Greaseball being thoughtful? Unheard of.

Either way he’s happy to finally have you behind him for the race. He’d probably be even more pleased if you end up matching colors with him, oh he’d be almost on his knees. Figuratively of course, can’t have people thinking he’s a simp.

As for people finding out. People are honestly really baffled. Everyone was thinking that he was dating Dinah- Since when? What? Hah? They’re confused to say the least. A shock factor that might help in the race.

Then for Greaseball he’s extremely proud to be showing off as the one behind him in the race. Like look at his amazing partner, they look so amazing and you’re gonna look even better when he wins the race.

After the race he decides to spin you around while picking you up and carry you to a celebration together. The two of you deserved it and nobody will tell him otherwise.

Rusty

He’d be so excited and happy! He’s someone’s first pick? Oh he’s so happy, he lets out a few whistles of happiness and says that he won’t let you down. He’s not about to show that you shouldn’t race with him again, he’s going to show you made the right choice.

He’ll even try to shine himself up as much as he can so you just have a partner you can be proud of being behind. What he doesn’t realize is that you’d love him either way, he doesn’t have to do good in the race for you to enjoy yourself.

When you come out with him I think people would actually be a lot more respectful due to the last race, so they won’t like to harass you for being with a rusty steamer. You can't help to see some side glances and hear some under their breath comments, you don’t pay attention to them though.

Honestly with you behind him I think Rusty kind of crushes the competition, he’s just so set on proving to you he’s good to race behind, as well as so happy that you are behind him. In the end he’s just like “See? Told you that you wouldn’t regret your decision.”

Just hit him with a “I would’ve never regretted it, even if we lost Rusty.” And he’d be all blushy and cute. He’ll definitely celebrate his win with you and doesn’t really care for all the official victory laps and such things like that. 

As he flailed and splashed, you stared at your hands. Did you really just do that? Of all the men that you probably shouldn’t be provoking… When Bobo came up sputtering, you curled them into fists and pushed them deliberately down by your sides. Never show doubt in the face of something that could hurt you. He stood to his full height and ran his hands over his head, clearing it of water. His mohawk and fur both stuck up at odd angles, stiff and chunky with wetness. The sheen of moisture looked good on his face, though, as did the cling of his undershirt to the planes of his chest.

His eyes landed on you, certain after just a quick flick to the right and the left that there could be no other culprit.

Before he could say anything, you took a deep breath, and… stuck your tongue out at him.

Then you sprinted away.

 Ever since then, what could only be described as a rivalry had sprung up between you two. The next weekend, you were sitting on a park bench, just starting to enjoy an ice cream cone, when it was snatched right outof your hand. You hadn’t seen Bobo coming up on the pavement behind you, and before you could even get any words out of your mouth he had shoved the whole top of your ice cream right between his lips. Backing away, maintaining eye contact, he took great big licks around all the edges for good measure. Then he just kept on walking.

“Did Bobo Del Rey just… steal your ice cream?” Wynonna asked, one hand shading her eyes against the sun as she watched the monster’s retreating back.

“Apparently.”

“Are we going after him?”

You gave a little shudder. “I don’t want it back. It’s got his cooties on it now.”

Today, you’re making your way through a department store where you entered the mall, hustling past the perfume counters to meet Waverly down at the food court. But a familiar, growling rasp of a voice catches your ears. “I’m looking for something… fruity, but not too sweet.”

Your head swivels to the right, and you see Bobo Del Rey, upper body draped over a glass case as he harasses a saleslady in the cologne department. His sleeve is pushed up to the elbow, and as you watch, he directs her to dab a sample directly onto his skin.

He raises his arm and takes a truly dramatic huff. His eyes roll up to the ceiling as he ponders. “Too much fruit,” he declares. “Do you have something less pineapple, more kiwi?”

You put your head down and try to make your way to the exit without him spotting you. You pass by through another aisle, but you can still hear him. “I want something dark, and bright. A scent with a rugged sophistication, you know?”

You suppress a snort. Does he realize he’s using entirely contradictory words? That poor saleswoman.

Bobo’s voice raises. “Y/N,” he calls out to your back, “just the person I need.” Shit. “Come over here and help me decide on these.”

Is this really your life right now? Cologne shopping with Bobo Del Rey. But the truth is, you’re too amused to walk away.

The counter beside Bobo’s outstretched arm is lined with sample bottles. Evidently he’s been here a while. The clerk’s sales smile is cracking around the edges as she looks up at you; she’s clearly hoping you’ll just take this guy away from her. She deposits a dab of something from a dark green bottle on his upturned wrist. “Why don’t we try this one.”

Bobo sniffs it while watching your approach. “Mysterious, yet familiar,” he declares. “I like it.” He splashes the green bottle against the right side of his neck. Then he selects another flask, of an ochre-gold shade, and sprays that one on the left. “Y/N,” he says, extending one hand to beckon you nearer. “Tell me which one you like better.”

You approach warily, trying to see where the trick is, what kind of prank Bobo is about to pull on you. You start to pick up the green bottle, but Bobo stops you with a long-fingered hand covering your own.

“You can’t truly tell, like that. It has to be on the skin.” He pulls the collar of his coat back a little, baring more of his neck to you.

You hesitate; Bobo arches a brow. You imagine he looks disappointed in your lack of bravery. That thought is enough to propel you entirely into his personal space. Your hands land on either lapel of his coat, palms tingling at the texture of the thick fur.

You get so close that your nose accidentally brushes the side of his neck. You’re sure you’re imagining it, but the air this near to his skin feels electrified. Your nerve endings sizzle as you realize you are close enough to hear him breathe. His hands are hovering somewhere near the sides of your body and you wonder if he’s going to touch you.

Inhale. That’s all you need to do.

The first scent leads with citrus and the breezy chemical smell of artificial perfumes. Underneath that is something musky that must be all Bobo. It makes the back of your neck prickle.

Refraining from showing any reaction, you shift your head quickly to the other side, refusing any sort of eye contact until this trial is over with. The other side is cloying, based in heavier oils, and only enhances that masculine smell of him that you caught on the other side. While you wouldn’t necessarily call Bobo’s body odor pleasant, you have an almost irresistible urge to smell him again anyway; deeper, closer.

“So,” Bobo crows at you, voice low and intimate, “which one tickles your fancy?”

Your smart mouth is quick to hide your true feelings. “When was the last time you bathed?” you ask, recoiling from him while you crinkle your nose in feigned disgust. Interesting things happen when your brain goes on autopilot, and you’re realizing that they usually involve poking the beast. “No cologne in the world could fix your smell.”

Bobo… pouts. There’s really no other word for the sullen disappointment that spreads across his features. “You’re no fun.”

You step backwards, keeping your spine straight as you retreat from him without turning away. “I don’t know why you thought I would be.”

Bobo only tips his head to the side. “I think a lot of things about you.”

Now there’s a concept you really don’t want to have to deal with. After an apologetic glance at the saleswoman you’re abandoning, you hightail it out of there to go find Waverly.

You’re not sure Bobo Del Rey is following you around the mall… but you’re pretty sure he’s following you around the mall. That distinctive mohawk, the flash of furry shoulders, they don’t blend in well, and you catch sight of them a little bit too often.

He swoops in while you’re waiting for Waverly to come out of a fitting room. He steps in close and nods his head down at the paper coffee cup clasped in your hand. “What have you got in there, Pumpkin Spice Latte?” His voice is wry. He thinks he’s making fun of you.

You raise one eyebrow, looking the wild revenant up and down. “Do you even know about pumpkin spice?”

He huffs. “I know only ‘basic bitches’ drink it, and I bet you’re just that unoriginal.”

You roll your eyes and take a sip. It is in fact a pumpkin spice latte, and it is delicious. “So what’s happening here, are you following me now?”

Bobo takes a step back, so he’s standing beside you, surveying the rest of the store with casually-crossed arms. “Just hanging out.” He leans in, obviously reading the store name off the sign on the nearest rack. “I love Forever 21.”

And while you’re thinking of your best comeback, he plucks your coffee from your hand and steals a sip. “Damn,” he sputters as he pulls the cup away from his lips, “that is good!”

“Keep it then,” you growl, and spin on your heel. “Waverly! You almost done yet?”

 After that you seem to lose your little tail. There’s no sight of Bobo for so long that after Waverly has to leave, you decide it’s fine to stay here by yourself a little longer, and hit up just one more store without her.

You realize your miscalculation once you’re in the fitting room of that boutique.

“I’m her boyfriend,” you hear a low, raspy voice say to an attendant outside the dressing area. You know that you now have exactly three seconds to get decent; there’s only one possible thing Bobo is about to do. You pull the dress you’ve been considering down over your head violently, straightening it as best you can, knowing you don’t have time to wrestle with the zipper.

The curtain behind you slides open with a scrape of metallic rings. No security at all in the changing rooms of this trendy shop. Bobo leers in at you with a tilt of his head. “Hello there, darlin’.”

“Seriously?”

Bobo nods to you, like he thinks this is very serious. His eyes flit to the mirror, and he looks your body up and down.

“You should get that dress. Flatters your shoulders.”

You look at yourself in the mirror, shocked he would even notice something like that. The dress does look pretty good. Dramatic. But you’re distracted from your own image by the reflection of Bobo Del Rey behind you, gazing from above your shoulder, his imposing presence filling up the entire background. The look in his eyes isn’t creepy, not in an uncomfortable way. ‘Smoldering’ might be the word for it. Appreciating. You imagine for just a second that he really is your boyfriend, and he really does like you in that dress.

He looks over his shoulder at someone. “Pardon me,” he says, and steps out of another customer’s way by pushing all of the way into your tiny changing booth. He slides the curtain shut behind him.

“What are you doing,” you ask.

“Being polite,” he replies. “Not a lot of room out there.”

“Not a lot of room in here!”

“Oh, we can manage.” His eyes roam across the tight, flimsy walls.

Somehow your face starts burning, even though you’ve barely processed what those words could be implying.

He looks down at the dress you’re wearing, having to pull his head back to get a good look now that you’re standing so close together. “So, are you getting it?”

You run your hand along your waist, pushing the fabric into place. “I haven’t zipped it yet, so I don’t know if it fits.”

“Allow me.” His fingers brush against the small of your back, finding the edge of the closure. You turn around to give him better access. Why are you going with this? Must not be wanting to make a scene throwing him out, that’s all.

You feel Bobo gather the edges of the dress together along your back, then draw the zipper up, slowly and carefully. His knuckle brushes your skin the whole way up, and you suppress a shiver. There’s no resistance. The dress fits.

Bobo takes a half step back, far enough to admire you, far enough for you to see yourself clearly in the mirror. The shape it gives you is phenomenal.

“Wear it tonight,” Bobo says, softly.

You whip your head to meet his eyes. “Tonight?”

He nods his head, and his hands find yours. He brings the back of one to his lips in a very old-fashioned kiss. “Dinner. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you try to stay firm. “Why would I go out with you?”

“Come on, Y/N, you’ve been flirting with me for weeks.”  Is that what you’d been doing? “Following me around the mall…”

That’s not right. “You’re the one that’s been stalking me!”

Bobo makes a skeptical face, cocking his head to one side.

“You literally barged in on me in the dressing room. What do you call that?”

“Helping. I’ve noticed you have a very hard time deciding what to buy.” He looks down at your chest, showcased just exactly no more and no less than you prefer. “That. You should definitely buy that.”

You shift awkwardly. “But I haven’t even tried any of the other ones.”

Bobo’s eyes light up. He spreads his hands in a “go ahead” gesture.

You roll your eyes. “No. Out.”

He lets you push him back through the privacy curtain. You ignore how warm his chest is under your hand.

“Oh,” he says, ducking his head back in, “which one did you like for tonight?” His hand disappears under his coat, then come back out with two bottles of cologne  that he clearly stole from the tester tray.

**Thanks for reading!! If you liked this madness, try Spa Day With Bobo

Bobo Masterlist

Dolls keeps looking over at you. He knows something is up,but he can’t put his finger on what. Bobo’s got you sweating, though he hasn’tsaid anything, or moved an inch from his position behind the bar at Shorty’s.

Your mission here, ostensibly, was for Bobo to be the one tosweat. Just a week after the revenant had reopened the bar as his own, Dollsthought it would be a good idea to stage a little “inspection” in partnershipwith the local PD. He didn’t really expect to find anything incriminating inthe bar, though any inkling of what Bobo and his revenant crew might be up towould be a godsend. Mostly he just wanted to remind the rowdy gang that legitbusinesses come with legit oversight.

So now you, Dolls, and Officer Haught are running throughShorty’s with a fine-toothed comb, ignoring the menacing looks of the revenant“patrons” and the sullen glares of their trashy-looking human familiars as youwork around their happy hour.

Bobo himself looks cool as a cucumber. Probably because he’scurrently having his own fun, with you. He’d told you what would happen if youcame back with your piercings still in. The remembered threat had made youshiver with anticipation even in the car on the way over.

Especially since, in the weeks since the last time BlackBadge tried to shake down Bobo Del Rey, you’d done that other thing he’dsuggested, too. Though you’d chickened out of getting your clitoral hoodpierced, you were now sporting a cute little ring in your inner labia. It wassomething you had been thinking about doing anyway, you told yourself. Headingdown to the shop two days after that incident in the trailer park was just acoincidence.

Whatever sense Bobo used to probe for metal latched on toyou just about as soon as you had entered the bar. And now that Dolls is donetalking to him, Bobo sure is taking his time and having his fun. As you sortthrough the bottles at the bar, searching for “contraband,” Bobo’s eyes arefixed on the struggle you seem to be having under your clothes. The metal inyour tits twists and flits, the foreign object nestled between your lower lipswiggling more softly, seductively, positively dragging you toward the devilhimself.

You come around to Bobo’s side of the bar, under the guiseof continuing your search. In reality, you’ve made the move so your knees canbuckle where no one else can see your face. You wanted to be teased again, butyou didn’t think it would be like this. The ring through your smooth,slick little fold, so close to the entrance of your body, buzzes in sharp,teasing bursts, running some terrible, wonderful counter-rhythm to the staccatobursts tugging at your nipples. You gasp and let your face screw up against theintensity as you pretend to rummage through the bottles stored near the floorbehind the bar.

You’ve landed closer to Bobo’s boots than you intended. Ormaybe he moved in. Your eyes climb up his long leg to seek out the face loomingabove you. It’s about as blank as it was when you walked in, betraying only a mildsort of almost-interest. “Do you need some assistance down there, Deputy?”

Officer Haught’s voice cuts over the bar before you can getyour panting under control long enough to attempt an answer. “You stay right whereyou are, Mr. Del Rey. Hands where I can see them.”

Bobo looks over at her and lifts just his fingertips fromthe bar counter, in that classic gesture of harmlessness. The vibrationsagainst your most intimate parts intensify.

What you hadn’t expected was how deeply unsatisfying thisstirring sensation against your cunt was going to feel. To have Bobo Del Rey touchingyou there, metaphorically speaking, was so hot that it had your pussy gushing, sure,but so much stimulation so close to your entrance was only making your bodyfeel empty. The craving for him to fill you up in some way, any way… thatwas what had you cowering on your knees beside him now.

You wonder how much of that shows in your face as you starewordlessly up at the smirk that starts to pull at Bobo’s cheek.

You’re actually grateful when Dolls calls the search offfairly quickly. He had always meant for it to be a feint, anyway. Just ruiningthe peace of Bobo’s day. And there was no way you, personally, were going toget anything more satisfying out of the revenant boss in such a public venue.

That’s why, after exiting Shorty’s with the team, you partways before even getting back into Dolls’ vehicle. “Is it alright if I takecare of an errand or two here before meeting you back at the station, boss?”

Haught gives you a considering look over the top of hersquad car when she hears that, but you can’t bring yourself to worry about hersuspicions right now. Not when you’re body’s on fire with such a deliciousneed.

Dolls waves a hand in dismissal, then fires up his engine. Youwait till both cars pull away before taking a few steps down the street.

You don’t feel like facing the leers and jeers of therevenant crew at your return into the bar. You make a sharp turn down the alleyand let yourself in the back door.

You knew the place pretty well when it was under friendliermanagement. Storeroom’s on the left, office on the right, and if you keep goingstraight you’d be back in the main room with the bar.

Bobo meets you before you get there; you don’t know how heknew you’d be coming in this way and you don’t really care. All that matters isthe blaze in his eyes as he fills up the hallway in front of you. “Back sosoon, Deputy,” he teases, somehow still sounding deadly serious. “Did youforget something?”

You take an unconscious step back as he moves up on you; evenif you’ve decided not to fight your attraction to him any longer, he’s stilljust that scary. The next step lands your back against the wall.

His nose almost brushes your cheek as he leans into yourlast bit of personal space. His voice comes out in the barest rumble. “Maybe there’sjust one more question you’d like to ask me?”

You make a needy little sound into his ear, hoping he’ll getthe idea and just ravish you already.

He pulls away instead, looking you up and down with asatisfied little calculation in his eye. “Why don’t we step into my office,Deputy. I’m sure we can sort some things out there.”

He guides you to the open door with a hand on the small ofyour back. A jolt runs through you and you realize that though your cunt andtits are still aching from overstimulation, this is the first time this man has,in actuality, touched you.

The office furniture is just about how Shorty left it: abattered, aging desk at the back end, a half-broken couch filling up the space under the line of frosted windows facing the alley. Gus had removed most of thedecorations that had lent a personal touch to the space before she signed theplace over to her mystery buyer. Which was just as well; you feel guilty enoughabout the choice you’re making without any reminders staring you in the face ofwhose memory you are more or less betraying by submitting to this demon.

And submit to him you are about to do. Bobo splays himselfacross the couch as you stand in the middle of the room waiting to see what’s going to happen next.

He gestures one hand languidly through the air. “Show me.”

You blink at him for a moment, hesitating.

“I can tell you put something delicious between your legs,just for me,” his fluttering fingers zero in on your nethers, “but I can’t seeexactly where you placed it. Show me.”

Fuuuuck. A cool, nervous energy sizzles through youas you start to strip off your clothes for Bobo, leaving an erotic charge inits wake that has you shaking. Your shirt comes off, then you take a few stepsbackward until you hit the desk so you can set your duty weapon somewhere safe.You shake off your boots, then strip your pants and underwear down in one go.

Bobo’s eyes almost shimmer above haughty lips as he watchesyou move.

Naked but for a satiny push-up bra, your helplessness feelsmuch more apparent than you expected. You don’t let it show, though, not underthe weight of those dangerous eyes. You’re all in, now.

Keeping your eyes locked on the predator who seems ready tomake you his dinner, you sit down on the edge of the desk and lift both feetoff the ground. In your best impression of a burlesque dancer, you spread yourknees wide and let Bobo see the pearl lodged in your depths.

He leans forward at the sight of it, and a moment later he’son his feet, stalking toward you in two quick strides. Long, adorned fingersland on both your inner thighs, while his gaze remains riveted on the treasurebetween.

“Mmmm,” he rumbles, “yeah, that was never gonna get you off,was it kitten.” He walks the fingers of his left hand down your skin, thenprods at the ring clinging just off the side of your opening there. “You neededto come back to me, and let me touch you for real, like this, didn’t you.” Hisfingertips curl against your leaking arousal and then dance up over yourclitoris. “By now you’ve got to be just aching to let me fill you up.”

A throaty moan escapes your lips, your body tensing up atthe direct contact.

He continues to rub you, but it’s soft, still just teasing.You lean into his hand and he chuckles darkly. “Want something?”

You realize you aren’t above begging him, though you hope itdoesn’t have to come to that. “More,” you purr.

He brushes his thumb a little harder across your clit, thetips of his longer fingers tickling up and down your slit without pressing inside.He steps his body in closer, until his hips tempt you just behind his hand.

You look up at him and try a sexy little pout.

“Not until I see the rest.” Fingertips slide along the edgeof your bra, then Bobo is pulling the cups down, scooping your tits out withoutremoving the support underneath, so they’re held up and on display for him.

You both stare down at the reddened, aching hardness of yournipples, each framed by the little silver balls of your barbell piercings. “DidI overdo it a little, kitten?” he says in fake sympathy, then takes the soretips of your breasts into his soothing mouth, one at a time. You shiver as histongue slides over and around the already-overstimulated flesh. “Please, Bobo,”you hear yourself moan.

He lifts his head. “Please, what?”

Instead of answering you reach for his belt. The first timeyou have ever voluntarily touched him. He pulls in a deep breath through hisnose and lets you. That restraint says more to you about his lust than anythingelse; he’s feeling the anticipation just as bad as you are. The thought setsyour fingers to work in double time at the leather of his belt, the button andzipper underneath. You feel his breath coming harder on your face.

He doesn’t let you take his dick out for him, though. Stronghands arrest your own just as you’ve barely traced his length, gotten only anidea of his girth. He forces your arms up, and back, until you’re lying downacross the top of the desk. He holds you like that with one hand while theother goes down to line himself up between your spread legs.

“Wait,” you gasp, body tensing as you remember. “Condom!”

Bobo shakes his head like you’re being cute. “Sweetheart, I’mdead.”

When your face doesn’t immediately relax, he continues.

“Revenants don’t catch diseases. And we’re only shootingblanks. Promise.”

Maybe in another time, another place, you might have beenmore skeptical, but you take the demon at his word when the thing you’ve beendreaming of is hovering just millimeters away from your soaking, needy cunt.

He smears his fat tip across your aching flesh. “Tell mewhat you want.”

“You.”

He just glares into your eyes, holding perfectly still.

Fuck it, he’s making you beg for it. You take a breath,biting your lip. He swells against you as his gaze flits down to catch thatgesture, but then he moves no more. Fine. “I want you to fuck me, Bobo.”

“Yeah?” he growls, eagerness starting to crack him now. Fingerstwitch in the hand holding your wrists down. “Tell me how you need it.”

“I need you to fill me up. Hard and fast. Fuck, Bobo, I needyou to stop being a fucking tease and just—”

You lose all your words as his heavy thickness presses firmlyinside you, igniting every needy little neuron that had been waiting what feltlike hours for something to come along and touch you deep inside. If you weren’talready so wet it would have been painful, how he surges forward and burieshimself balls-deep in one groaning thrust.

After a single, pleased little growl, Bobo starts snappinghis hips, moving hard inside you at a depth that has you losing control overyour noises just about right away.

It’s everything you had been craving. More, really. Pleasurelike a white-hot burst scorches up from your core through the rest of yourbody, so intense you can’t decide if you want to pull away or press yourself againsthim tighter. You settle for just trying to relax in the midst of it, welcominghis assault and letting him burn out your senses in the most delicious waypossible.

Eyes closed, you can almost see your orgasm building like awhite supernova surrounded by dark.

“Uh uh,” Bobo chides, slapping your cheek to make you lookat him in outrage, “you open your eyes. Look at who’s fucking you. There’s nogetting away from this.”

Bobo’s eyes are savage, and filled with that masculine pridethat says sex is a game for him to win and you to lose. It’s not a veryprogressive viewpoint, but you suppose that what’s left of his humanity is arelic of a nastier time and place. It’s wrong but something about it is overwhelmingly sexy too, and even a decision to try the submission he’s seeking on for size is enough to set off that explosion that’s been building between your thighs since you walked into his joint.

You try to keep your eyes open for him as you blow, but yourvision fades out and you end up with no idea if you really succeeded. The pleasure is almost searing, almost painful, and you can feel your body clamp down on his cock harder than you’ve ever experienced before. Bobo lets out a guttural moan when he feels it, a sound that’s enough to make you peak again, and you’re all but screaming through your teeth when he pumps even harder, letting out his own release into you.

His fingers unclamp from your hands and bury themselvesinstead in your hair as he slumps on top of you, breathing heavily. All eitherone of you can do is pant, and twitch, for a good long while after that.Eventually his cock slides out of you, and you feel a mess immediately start toaccumulate on the desk. The bliss is slow to fade.

“I should go,” you say after a while, because what else doyou say, to the literal demon that you just let fuck you. He’s not gonna wantto cuddle. You won’t be making plans for dinner.

Bobo’s smart mouth is apparently exhausted, because he doesn’teven try to say anything cute, just pushes up to his elbows and hovers overyou, inspecting your face. His head drops and he nuzzles his rough cheek downagainst yours, like an animal leaving a scent-marking. “I’ll see you around,Deputy,” he rumbles into your ear, the low tone entirely inscrutable.

Then he tucks his cock back into his pants and strides directlyout of the room, slowing only to close the office door politely behind him.

Find my other Bobo Del Rey works here

Bobo drops the magazine to his lap, fixing you with a dry stare. He points with his forehead at the dryers across from him.

Right. “Whyyyyyy are you naked?”

He indicates the dryers again. His handsome face is still blank, but you can sense the tension of amusement building behind it.

“You know, most people don’t wash everything they own all at once like that.”

His notched brow jumps. “That wouldn’t be very efficient.”

“But it would be more civilized.”

Bobo bares his teeth at you in a very un-civilized way.

You sigh, and point to the clothing piled all around him. “Those are mine.”

“Is that so.” He makes an exaggerated effort at examining the piles like he just noticed they are there, like he wasn’t the one that had just pulled everything from all four machines. He waggles his eyebrows at the lacey undies sticking out from the top.

Dear Lord in Heaven, Bobo’s hands have been on your panties. “It’s rude to touch other people’s stuff.”

“It’s rude to hog more than half the machines,” he leans forward, elbows on his knees, “and then not come back to take them out on time.” You try not to look at the way the posture makes his pecs swell.

You glower at him, but he’s got you on that point. You bend down and scoop up an armful of your clothes, still hot, and carry them over to the folding table in the corner. Sure, you could have shoved everything back into your bags and folded at home, but you’re stubborn. You don’t want to let someone like Bobo Del Rey make you change your usual routine.

Bobo doesn’t move an inch as you cross back and forth in front of him, not even when the back of your arm brushes against his as you gather up the pile closest to him. Your skin prickles, like just a touch has spread some kind of contagion. “Need help?” he asks dryly, an offer which you vehemently refused. He’s made you uncomfortable enough; now you just want him to leave you alone.

It’s strange, to share a laundromat with your nemesis. You find yourself sneaking glances back at him while you fold up your items. He’s just sitting there, peaceful as a housecat, enjoying his little magazine, in his underwear. Usually when you see him, you’re shooting at each other. The cognitive dissonance is giving you a headache.

Except… you look over your pile of shorts, then narrow your eyes as you inspect the dastardly villain more closely. He’s not sitting in his underwear. He’s sitting in your underwear. Your pajama bottoms, that is. “Bobo!” you snarl through your teeth, before you can stop and think if yelling at the head boss revenant of the Ghost River Triangle is such a good idea.

He leans his head back, peering up at you disinterestedly from over his magazine.

“Are you wearing my shit?!”

A wide grin cracks his face, crinkling his eyes as he finally stands up. “I had to wear something while all mine’s being washed, didn’t I? To keep things civilized. And I just liked this little number so much,” he says, waving his fingers up and down in front of the tiny rectangle of satin that barely covers his hips. The sight of his bulge encased by the shiny fabric is not something that is going to leave your memory quickly. “Don’t you think they suit me?”

He turns as he says the last word, wiggling his butt to call attention to the words you knew are emblazoned in white calligraphy across the back: Enemy of the State. When you bought them, you thought it was edgy and funny. Now, the joy is ruined. You can’t unsee this. Ever.

You whip your head away and start folding faster. You just want to be out of here and away from him, now. You jump when he’s suddenly standing right at your shoulder. Bare feet make him sneaky. “I could give them back,” he offers, voice a low purr, his hips wiggling closer to you as his thumb dips beneath the waistband.

“Keep them!” Your voice is high with the panicked need to stop him before he strips completely in this public laundromat. Hell must have burned all the shame out of him, if he ever had any to begin with.

He just stands there, too close, chuckling darkly at your frantic movements as you shove everything into your laundry bags. Enough’s enough, you have to get out of there.

The creep just can’t stop. As you turn tail and rush away, he makes sure to get in the last word: “My thanks for the gift, Y/N. I’m happy to have something so silky and soft to remember you by, cradling my undercarriage.”

More Bobo madness here