#Mafia!Ghost

[cordeliawhohung]

thinking about mafia!Simon wanting to help shy!Reader feel more comfortable and confident when it comes to being intimate so he buys you some high end lingerie ): if anything, all it does is make you more flustered because somehow it's worse than being bare naked.

still, he spent so much money on you (this stuff is expensive!) so you sneak off into the bathroom to try it on. wearing it makes you feel like an idiot. it took you nearly fifteen minutes to figure out how to get it on, and even then you still weren't sure if you were wearing it correctly or not. you stare at yourself in the mirror as you try and adjust the straps along your body before you eventually work up the courage to show Simon.

you had taken so long he was on his phone by the time you entered the bedroom, but the very moment he sees you he nearly tosses his phone to the side. you stand in the doorway with your arms crossed over your chest as if trying to hide yourself from him, and he can't help but grin. he stands up from the edge of the bed and his hands are quick to find your hips.

"hey there, gorgeous," he mumbles while pulling you closer.

"i feel like i look dumb," you whine while trying to avoid eye contact.

"dumb?" he repeats. his hands slowly slide along your hips to your lower back before dipping down and cupping your ass. he gives you a firm squeeze, which pulls a small squeak from your lips. "i know you just put it on, but sweetheart, i'm ready to tear the damn thing off of ya."

[dmitriene]

mafia ghost, except while you thought you're his only and most precious pup, there's always has been johnny, being more than just a right hand to simon, having a place of his own at his feet as well, with mouth stuffed full and sky blue eyes shining with devotion.

you aren't suspected this kind of relationship between them, not until you opened simon's cabinet, greeted by the sight of him fucking in johnny's throat, thrusts rough and battering, making johnny's cheeks flush with leaking tears.

you could've feel jealous, bothered by the fact that all this time you weren't his special girl, if the mere sight of them weren't making you sopping wet beneath your panties, supple thighs rubbing together to relieve the ache, but simon can handle that, make you get along with johnny.

with him slurping on your slicky cunt, tongue flattening against your puffy folds, dancing against them with long stripes, making you scrabble on the brown strands of johnny's mohawk in despair, nudging his face further against your pussy, pretty hole pulsing for attention as you sit arching on simon's lap.

his puppies need to work together, not bicker for enough attention from simon, because he has much to give to the two of you, and it seems that you do like johnny after all, pleading for him to go faster where he fucks into your squelching pussy, thrusts desperate and sloppy.

sprawled on the cold surface of the desk, mouth open wide to accommodate simon's meaty cock, throbbing onto your tongue as he fucks your throat, cupping your jaw with a warm hand, as johnny bullies his lengthy cock against your sweet spots, moaning and pawing at your doughy tits like a true mutt.

he'd devour simon's cum out of your mouth afterwards, suckling on your tongue and flooding your clenching cunt full of his own seed, creaming you prettily for simon to take afterwards, warm and even more wet for another cock in your loose pussy.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 4

(A/N) It's back! I apologize for the break last week, like I mentioned I was at GamesCom in Germany and didn't really get to write anything. I hope you enjoy this even more tho!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: angst, threats against Reader, comfort, kissies, confessions,

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

You felt cold. So incredibly cold. And it was loud. Yelling and gunshots, glass breaking, and metal clanging. Desperately, you pressed your hands against your ears as you curled into the fetal position, trying to keep the world out. It wasn’t working.

You could still hear all the noises. And that voice.

“Kleine Maus.”

It was a singsong, slowly distorting, the words turning into your name. And he said it again. And again. And again. And again.

A cry tore its way through your throat and out your mouth as you shot up. Your breathing was labored as you quickly looked around the room, confusion filling you when you didn’t recognize your surroundings. Suddenly you felt two strong hands on you - one on your left shoulder and one on your back. Panicked, you whirled around, expecting to see the man that was haunting your dreams, but it wasn’t him.

“Hey, hey. You’re alright. It was just a dream.”

Simon looked concerned as he gently pulled you closer. For a moment, you resisted, before you realized what was going on and immediately moved toward him, curling up in his lap as he wrapped his strong arms around you. Gently, as if not to startle you further, he began rocking you back and forth, fingers drawing gentle circles on your skin. Only when he stopped for a second and reached up to wipe the tears slowly flowing from your eyes, away, did you realize that you were crying. You looked up, meeting his eyes which were filled with concern, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Simon?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Di-Did you k-kill them?”

You watched as his eyes hardened and he hesitated, the frown on his face intensifying. He never wanted you to know this side of him. That’s why he never came back, he knew that sooner or later something would happen that would force him to do his job, but you were too sweet for that world, too innocent. Still, you deserved to know.

“Some of them, but König, he…he escaped.”

His eyes flickered to your throat as you swallowed the lump that formed there, threatening to suffocate you. That man was still alive and out there. He could…he could easily kill you. Panic started to fill you as your mind ran through each possible way he would do it. Shoot you. Maybe he would suffocate you, or slit your throat when you least expected it. Your breathing picked up, Simon’s arms around you immediately tightening.

“Hey. It’s okay, I won’t let him hurt you.”

You looked at him, your eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips and back again. His face was a stone facade, impossible to read, but the softness in his eyes was unmistakeable, as they flickered to your lips, before he leaned closer, almost closing the gap.

A pleasurable shiver ran through your body as he whispered your name, his lips ghosting over yours. It almost looked like he was about to kiss you, but at the last second, he angled his head up, instead pressing his lips to your forehead. He held them there for a moment before pulling back and cradling your face in his palm, concern in his eyes. Easily, he picked you up, laying down before placing you beside him, your head on his chest.

“You should rest some more, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You nodded against his skin and closed your eyes, letting the comfort and safety of his embrace lull you to sleep.

“-addy?”

“Ssshh, you have to be quiet Millie, okay? She’s still sleeping.”

There was a pause before you could hear little feet tabbing against the floor, growing closer. And then there was a ruffling of sheets and a quiet chuckle from Simon.

“Quiet now, munchkin. Come here.”

Millie giggled and when you squinted your eyes open, you watched her fall into her father’s arms, cuddling into his embrace while she gazed at him with adoration in her eyes. You watched as he kissed her forehead and pulled her closer, her fingers softly trailing over the tattoos on his chest. A smile spread on your lips as you remembered what all of this was about, and why you had gotten into this mess in the first place. Millie. And she was worth it.

“Good morning, love.”

You glanced up at Simon, who smiled down at you, squeezing you against him.

“Hi.”

Before you could utter more, a squeal of your name cut you off and you watched as Millie scrambled, over her father’s torso and into your arms. As soon as she was close enough, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck and she hid her face in the nape of your neck.

“I missed you.”

You pulled your arm out from underneath Simon and wrapped it around Millie’s back, holding her as close as humanly possible.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Simon watching the two of you, a soft smile on his face as he carefully pulled away and rolled to the other side of the bed, getting up. He continued to watch you for a few moments more before he pulled a shirt over his head and walked back over to the bed, easily picking Millie up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Let’s give her a few minutes, okay munchkin?”

He turned to you, still smiling, with adoration shining in his eyes.

“We’ll be downstairs, making sure breakfast is getting started. Just join us whenever, okay?”

You nodded and watched the pair leave, Millie giggling as she drew random patterns on her father’s clothed back, while he tried to guess what she was drawing. The bond between the two filled your heart with love and you couldn’t help but miss the feeling of Simon pressed against you. But at the same time you were glad that he gave you a few moments to be alone and process everything that happened the past few hours.

Someone had come into your bakery, threatened you, nearly killed you…and Simon saved you. The events replayed before your eyes and you could again hear the chaos that broke out once Simon had come to the rescue. You didn’t even want to imagine what your bakery looked like and how long it would take to clean everything up. A sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes and leaned back into the pillows, relaxing for a few moments. That was until your phone rang.

You didn’t check the caller ID, expecting it to be Mary to ask what happened to the bakery, but when you picked up, the voice on the other end sent a shiver through you.

“Hallo, kleine Bäckerin. Gut geschlafen?” (Hello, little baker. Slept well?)

You sat up with a start, eyes wide and body tense.

“König. How did you-”

“-get your number? Oh, that was easy. But let’s not talk about that, ja?”

With stiff movements, you got to your feet and rushed out the door, bolting down the stairs as quickly as possible without falling. Simon. You needed Simon.

“Last night ended…unfortunate. You know, at the start, I only wanted to play with you to annoy Ghost, but now…I see what he sees and I want what he has. I want you, Liebling. Don’t you want me too?”

You finally reached the kitchen, Simon turning to you as soon as he heard your footsteps, his smile falling the moment he saw your panicked look, he gently grabbed Millie and pointed to a room, saying something you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears. She obediently left the kitchen, as Simon stalked toward you, his eyes dark.

With shaking hands, you pulled the phone from your ear and pressed the ‘speaker’ button.

“Tell me you want me too, Schatz.”

A low growl echoed from Simon’s chest as he grabbed the phone from your hand, glaring at the device.

“Keep your distance, König, or I’ll finish what I started.”

Your ears picked up on the frantic, almost manic laughter echoing from the speakers, even as Simon walked to the other side of the room. With quiet steps, you crossed the room, walking until you stood right behind him.

“You can’t protect her, just like you couldn’t protect your family.”

You watched as every muscle in Simon’s back grew tense, his hand shaking with the firm grip he had on your phone.

“You are not your father. You will not take anyone from me. Come for her and I’ll enjoy ripping you apart before putting a bullet in your head.”

As soon as the final word left Simon’s lips, he threw your phone onto the ground and stepped on it, effectively breaking it. A quiet yelp escaped your lips as you watched him destroy the device, but he immediately turned to you, the darkness in his eyes slowly dissipating as he took in your shocked face. Before you could react, he pulled into his chest, arms tightening as they wrapped around your body, almost smothering you. It was silent, for a few moments, before you quietly spoke up.

“Simon?”

He didn’t respond for a moment, instead tightening his hold on you even more, before mumbling against your neck.

“I won’t let him get you. I promise. I’ll keep you safe.”

A soft smile spread on your lips as you returned his hug, wrapping your arms around his waist as you buried your face in his face, speaking just loud enough for him to hear.

“I know. I trust you, Si.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough so he could look at your face. His eyes flickered back and forth between yours before they eventually landed on your lips. He hesitated, but when you moved your own head a little closer, he immediately smashed his lips to yours, his fingers digging into the fat on your hips, as he groaned at the contact. Your hands quickly found their way around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours as your lips moved against each other. You carefully tug at the strands of hair that your fingers can reach, tentatively licking into his mouth as his lips part, letting out a quiet moan. His reaction was immediate as his hands moved to the back of your thighs, easily hoisting you up and sitting you down on the kitchen island, without breaking the kiss.

“Daddy?”

The two of you immediately break apart, both glancing at Millie, who was curiously peeking into the kitchen. Simon, while still keeping a hand on your thigh, took a step back, putting some distance between you as he looked at his daughter.

“M-Munchkin, hey. Is everything okay?”

Millie nodded, walking in until she stood in front of her dad, and looked up at him, before glancing at you. She then glanced back at her father, before she waved him down. And with a crooked smile, he fell into a squat, bending down until Millie could whisper in his ear.

“Is-Is she my mommy now?”

Well, it was meant to be a whisper at least, but it was loud enough for you to hear. You watched as Simon froze for a second, before he relaxed again, whispering back to Millie. He kept it quiet enough that you had no idea what he said and curiosity immediately filled you. Whatever he told her, made Millie giggle, as she took a few steps back and nodded before bouncing back out of the room. After she left, Simon rose back to his full height and returned his attention to you as he found his place between your thighs again, his hands on your hips.

“I guess you heard what she said?”

You hummed as your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, a coy smile on your lips.

“I sure did. What did you tell her?”

Now it was his turn to hum. He hesitated, conflict clear in his eyes as he weighed his options. After a moment, he answered, a cocky grin on his face.

“I told her…that it is your choice, but that I wouldn’t mind.”

The grin fell, as he turned serious, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he swallowed and glanced at the floor.

“Look, I know this is new and we don’t really know each other or anything, but I really…I…”

You reached up, cradling his cheek in your hand as a soft smile spread across your lips.

“Me too, Simon. I…I feel the same way.”

Relieve flooded his eyes as the frown disappeared and the grin returned. He quickly closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. The moment was once again interrupted by the voice of the little girl who wanted you to be her mommy.

“Daddy! We’re goin’ to be late…for school!”

Midway through her yell, she paused and drew a quick breath, before finishing it. You chuckled and glanced toward the door, before looking back at Simon, who just sighed, but there was still a giant smile on his face.

“I’ll go get her ready, okay? You get started on breakfast.”

With one more peck to his lips, you hopped off the kitchen island and walked to the door, ready to search for Millie. You had barely made it two steps when you felt a light slap to your ass, turning around just to see Simon grin at you. König and all his threats were forgotten. At least for now.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash @xanvasy (I am so sorry I forgot to tag you last part, please forgive me 😭)

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[barbiesmuse]

TAKE ME TO CHURCH. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

;ֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָsimon riley + reader

summary: in which sugardaddy!ghost is set to kill innocent!readers family and get vengeance for his mother, but then he meets you a neglected sheepish little thing, and everything changes. he's no longer concerned about killing your family for his mother, he's more concerned about killing your family for you...

tags: mafia!au, f!reader, mafialeader!simon, smut, angst, hurt, pent up frustration, innocent!reader, comfort, protective!simon.

this fic has extremely dark content, if this is something you do not enjoy scroll! do not feel obligated to read this because you enjoy my other works, set boundaries for yourself! warnings: sexual assault, voyeurism (consensual and non-consensual), drug use, gun violence, blood, praise, detailed sexual scenes, simon's dick is monster size, virgin!reader, simon fucks reader while his safe house is being shot up, death, choking, choking, choking, simon spits in readers mouth, simon is a little bit of a perv, neglect, fingering, blowjob, handjob, talk of suicide, cunnilingus, simon uses sex as an escape, messy monkey sex, reader swallows simon's cum, no happy ending (i'm sorry my babies but we're going back to death by a thousand cuts era but better!), and torture.

HEAD BARBIE ANNOUNCEMENTS: this is probably the scariest thing i've written!! i've literally never put warnings before so please please please read those, if i've missed anything please let me know!! originally, simon was supposed to fuck reader with a gun to her head but i thought that might've been tooooo dark so we settled for something a little nicer!! but if you want that scene i will gladly put it out! okay i'm done yapping, i love you all dearly you put a little sugar in my bowl!! lots of love, natalia raye.

so so so excited to write this, until then enjoy this!!

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[Ghost crashed into a car before he parked ours] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

To your surprise, Kyle, or Gaz – the model-like man introduced himself as – is such a considerate person with a nice sense of humor, at least compared to Soap or Ghost. 

That day you trapped yourself in the predicament with John, he seemed to sense your embarrassment, hence he just handed his boss a backup shirt without making fun of you like his boss, so you have a lot of time for the man. 

Like now, he’s sitting and sharing a plate of biscuits with you, enjoying a tranquil tea time accompanied by the pleasant smell of Earl Grey.

“You don’t have jobs to do today?” You raise your cup and ask, before taking another sip and watch Kyle finish his bite and reply.

 “Ghost’s in charge of dealing with the enemy today.” 

“Ehmm, okay” You refuse to figure out what ‘dealing’ means “What about others?"

"I killed mine yesterday.” 

Okay, you truly don’t mean this, but let’s just end this topic and move on. With a few biscuits down to your stomach, brainwashing yourself to forget what you heard seconds before with the sweetness, and buying you some time to come up with a better subject, you open your mouth again.

“Every time one of you comes here, you just scare all my customers away.”

“Isn’t that better?” 

“I need customers to earn money, Kyle.”

“You have us to pay you.” He points at the badge pasted on your wall. Of course, you’re not the one who put it on, you rather read the military smut out in front of all British than do it, but if you try to take it off, Soap will put a new one back, so in the end you just compromised and let him claim your shop publicly.

“This place isn’t only served for you guys.”

“It isn’t?” 

Is it possible to refute when Kyle flashes you a smile that you almost get blind and start wondering if he can replace himself as your lights and save you the electricity bill? Maybe counting this as one of Kyle’s humor will be better than explaining. All required is to ignore the evil glints in his majestic brown eyes while he questions you.

But even though Kyle said he doesn’t have work today, he doesn’t stay long after he finishes his tea.

“Gotta head back to help the boss.” He grins as he turns the knob and waves you goodbye.

What’s weird is that   after Kyle leaves your shop, customers start flooding back. Many of them are familiars of the shop, as you’re sure they’re 141’s lackeys too.

You remember them see you as one of the henchmen… Although they're not as afraid as when they first visit the shop because of your hospitable attitude, you can still sense the attentiveness in their demeanor.

No matter what, you’re going to figure out what’s  actually  happening.

“Hey, you.” You walk to one of the minions' sides. “Mind to tell me about why you guys always disappear when Gaz or Ghost or others come here?”

“We…” The guy’s eyes avert, shooting his friend a glance for help “It’s just a coincidence.”

“Coincidence?” Raising your eyebrow, you lower your voice to make it  menacing 

“It  really  is, ma’am, nothing to bother with the Sirs.”

“Show me, they must have sent some messages to inform you guys, right? Let me take a look, or I will…” You will what?  Actually,  you have no idea what you can do to these guys that can lift you  up  and throw you into a trash bin like a shot “Wait a second.”

Quickly running back to your kitchen, you come back with your most intimidating weapon – 

“Or I will hit you with my pan!” You wiggle your arm as a threat.

“…” 

They don’t look scared of the pan for a tiny bit. Wait, you should take your kitchen knife instead, who the fuck will pick a pan? You idiot.

yet to your satisfaction, they still fish out their phone and let you have it, and you don’t waste any time as you open the texting app.

‘Announcement: Boss will arrive at the tea shop in 10 minutes, clear the shop immediately.’

So they  really  are scaring your customers off. Give the phone back to the poor guy with pity in your eyes, you bring him a few more biscuits.

You’re strolling through the aisles in the shop. You’re out of flour and sugar, and every Wednesday the groceries are on sale. You never miss these chances to build up savings.

What a nice shopping trip. Quiet, leisure, just enjoying your own time, picking up different brands of cereal and calculating which is cheaper like a competent broken adult. Things never go wrong when you’re alone.

“Hey lass!”

Well, you’re kidding, things go south too quickly. The voice’s too familiar. It must be a hallucination.

“Lass? Bonnie?”

 Don’t look back, keep walking. It’s not the detergent man with a stupid chicken crest yelling at you.

“HEY!” A hand pats you on your shoulder and makes you jump. Sighing internally and prey there won’t be any trouble caused by the man, you turn around and face him.

“Oh, Soap, Hi.” Shit, looks like you just can’t have a break from these men. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Even though the nan outside tells me te shut the fok up?”

“Yes.” you shamelessly admit, pro tip to confront people without shame “Why are you here by the way, Soap?”

“Oh, we’re in need of some things, so Ghost pulled off during our way home.”

You take a glimpse at his basket. A rope, a roll of duct tape, and a knife. 

They must be going on a picnic. Yes, don’t overthink. The rope is for securing the tent, the duct tape is for concealing the holes on it. Knife? they surely will need it when cutting apples.

The image of Ghost slaughtering… peeling apple you mean, with Soap and Gaz playing red light green light and John napping in the tent is so vivid in your mind that you need to restrain the laugh with a clear of your throat before you grunt in affirmation and restart your steps.

With Soap depriving you of your last respite, you choose to grab what you need and head to the counter. All you want is to get home, have a nice shower, and lie on the bed reading the new fic you found last night.

“Do ye need help?” He watches you shove the products in your bag, but 5 huge cartons of milk are too heavy for your weak limbs, you can feel your arms trembling under your attempt.

“It’s okay, my car’s near the door. I can carry this myself.” Again, cheekiness works every time. You don’t care about strangers staring at you struggling with the bag and exit the supermarket in a crab way, as long as it can bring you back into peace faster, and you almost tear up when you see your car, the white of it is like the lighthouse in the atramentous night.

Hey, but you don’t remember your car has a goddamn huge dent at its boot.

“Oh yeah, forgot to tell ye. Ghost crashed into a car before he parked ours, and he’s contemplating whether he should kidnap the driver when they come back and make them shut up, or just kill them.” Soap looks at you stopping in despair as he recognizes what you’re looking at. “So it’s your car aye?”

You don’t answer him, you just watch Ghost materialize from the Shadow beside your car and give you a nod.

Fuck your life.

a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!

Car -1, Peaceful night -1

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143 @goodbyegh0st @reaperxxxxzz @kaoyamamegami @imyprice @cod-z @poppingaround @live-for-fluff @masterstr0ke @mall0ww

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / masterlist

You wake to the sound of drapes swishing open.

Up on your elbows, you blink furtively. The room, your room, is plucked from the darkness, the long emerald colored tapestries pulled to the side to reveal sunlight.

There’s a woman in your room. Not much older than you, tying them back before turning to face you with a nervous smile. “Good morning.”

“Good… morning?” Who is she? What is she doing here?

“I’m Ana. I’ve brought your breakfast.” There’s a tray on the table, across the room. You can see steam rising from where you’re sitting up, half swallowed in a sea of blankets and pillows.

“Ana…” you say her name slowly, rolling it around in your mouth and then glance at the door. “Thank you for the breakfast but… I actually need to get home.” Her brow puckers.

“I’m sorry but… I'm only here to bring you breakfast” What? “You’re to eat,” she hesitates, “and stay here.” Your muscles still hold the memory of running, tromping through the woods in a panic, shaky steps too clumsy to carry you far enough away. How long ago was that? A day? Days?

“Please. You have to help me.” You fold over the edge of the bed, feet on the floor, reaching for her, but she jerks away.

“I’m sorry.” She repeats again. You eye the door. “I wouldn’t. The door locks automatically from the outside, and requires a key code.” Panic grips your throat. You’re trapped, you’re really trapped, they’re kidnapping you, it’s real, this-

“I have to get out of here.”

“You should eat,” she whispers, eyes wide and sweet like a puppy’s.

“I can’t. I’m too preoccupied with the fact I’ve been kidnapped.” You snark, and her mouth tightens.

“From what I understand, which is not much admittedly, is you’re being kept here for your own protection.” She backs away, carefully, watching where you sit on the edge of the bed, stricken. Your heart is sinking in your chest, down through your stomach and to the floor, squeezing in on itself so tight it may turn to pulp.

“Please, you can help me. You got in here, right? So you know the key code, you can-“ The door swings open. An unfamiliar man stands on the threshold, gun on his hip, charcoal black henley accentuating his arms.

“Ana.” He rumbles, and without another word or a look back, she scurries towards the door.

“Sorry Mr. Keller.” She squeaks, and he smiles at her, kindly. It confuses you.

“It’s alright. Go see if Mags needs anything.” He glances your direction, and then before you can protest, swings the door closed. The handle whirs until there’s a satisfying click of a lock.

All is silent.

Another tray is delivered midday, and then as the sun starts to set, a third.

You leave them untouched.

It’s not really a hunger strike, more so lack of appetite. A week ago, you would have murdered someone for this kind of food, quality, hot, heaping portions. Overstuffed sandwich with chips, roasted chicken pie with gravy and perfectly cooked vegetables. It should make your mouth water, but it only succeeds in turning your stomach.

Your face stays buried in a pillow for hours. Hiding under the blankets like a child, you cry until there’s nothing left, agony shredding your soul, lowering you down into a dark well filled with hopelessness.

Kidnapped. You’ve been kidnapped.

Or, well. Woman-napped. You guess.

Ana arrives an hour after the dinner tray is dropped off, and you hear her huff as she takes into the full plate.

You ignore her.

“Miss, I really think Mr. Riley and MacTavish would be happier if you tried to eat something.” Happier? They'd be happier? You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth to keep yourself from snapping at her. It's not her fault, you think.

“‘m not hungry, thanks though.” You’re curled up in the fetal position, faced away from her, and she sighs.

The door clicks closed. You’re alone with dusk, and it drags you down with the horizon, eyes slipping closed as the last orange light flickers over the trees.

The light at your bedside clicks on in the middle of the night. You wake slowly to it, forgetting again where you are, what's happened, flanked by two shadows, full conscious coming with the reminder that you're trapped in this room.

When you finally get your bearings, you realize the two shadows are your captors, barely illuminated by the pale orange lamp.

"Ye didnae eat anything all day." Johnny murmurs from his spot on the bed, by your hip.

“I want to go home.” Your pillow is tucked to your chest, a stuffed barrier between you and them, the only line you can draw however flimsy.

“Ye cannae doe, we’ve discussed this.”

“Please.” Your voice cracks on the tears trailing down your cheeks, and you sniffle. “Please. I won’t tell anyone.” He shakes his head.

“How about we get you something to eat?” Simon’s voice is more gentle in the dark it seems, cotton corners wrapping the beginning and end of each word, lilting upward with his question.

Reality slowly webs at the corners of your vision. You’re not getting out of here. You’re their prisoner until they say otherwise.

You’re fucked.

The despondency swells into a lump in the back of your throat. “I’m… I’m scared of you, I’m scared period. I want to GO HOME.”

“We know.”

“There’s ice cream in the kitchen.” You can hear Simon’s smirk in the dark, and he sighs. “You’re not going home, doe. At least not right now. So you can sit here and suffer, and be hungry, or you can have a little snack before we put you back in bed.” Johnny’s- you think, hand pats your thigh.

Your resolve crumbles, falls apart long enough that you allow yourself to consider something to eat, something sweet, even. “Fine.” You huff. “But this isn’t over. You can’t just keep me here. I will fight, I will run.” Simon laughs.

“Run all you want, but you’ll still end up back here.”

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

🌹Villain!Jade (?)🌹

sO I was thinking about some Mafia AU but like what if Jade is the mob lady ya know so I kinda made her the villain here....? And Ghost is kinda the former-military-turned-underling...? Kinda digging it ngl 👀

---

Been a while since I've drawn this two lovelies TEEHEE Hope you like it!! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

[oceantornadoo]

thinking about your husband aka mafia au!simon riley telling you he’ll be gone for a couple days, some trip for the Family in chicago, doesn’t give any details, leaving you fretting over a man you’ve kissed twice. and honestly you should enjoy the days of silence in the apartment, but instead you’re anxiously twisting your hands and wearing his shirts, worrying. your cousins don’t know anything about the trip so it’s all on you to panic when a couple days turns into a week, then two. and finally, finally, it’s midnight and you’re stress baking when you hear a key turn in the doorway.

your husband walks through, bloodstains adorning his skull mask as his shoulders slump forward. and suddenly you’re running and jumping on him as he catches your legs around his waist, pulling you both into an embrace full of too many emotions to count. the i missed you’s and i’m sorry’s tinged with your underlying fear that he’d left you for another woman who would willingly consummate the marriage.

he walks you both over to the sofa as he drops his bag on the floor. simon revels in the scent of you, the sight of you in his shirt, better than any dreams he used to keep him company while he was away. you seem to be trying to burrow under his skin and he’ll let you, enraptured with the effect you have on him. he rubs your back in peaceful circles, willing you to calm down and walk off the edge of those tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “i’m sorry”, you pull back suddenly, wiping your eyes and looking ashamed, “i don’t know what got into me, you’re probably tired and-” “don’t worry about it, lovie. i missed you too.” he’s never called you that, never spoke to you with such affection before. you realize that by jumping on him, you shifted his mask over his lips. your hand shoots out to pull it down but he traps it with a larger hand of his own, willing you to let him show himself to you. you trace his lips with your fingers, noting the small scars. he kisses your thumb, so fast you might’ve missed it if you weren’t clocking his each and every movement. slowly, like walking through molasses, you tilt your head forward, lips touching his in a featherlight touch.

you’re kissing him. simon honestly thinks he hit his head and created a delusion, because his wife is straddling him and kissing him. not wanting to scare you, he lets you take charge, his hands sliding from your back to your waist. he pulls up your shirt ever so slightly, thumbs rubbing circles into the meat of your torso as he tries to show you how much he wants this. you gain more confidence, slowly grinding on his hardening cock. he lets out a low growl, causing you to stop. “don’t stop. please don’t stop.” he whispers, desperate to not let this dream end. “i thought you died.” you whispered back, needing him to understand how worried you’ve been. “i’d never leave you like that.” he says, placating your every worry. you smile against his lips and he pulls you back, needing you on him in every way.

his hands grip your hips and move them forward, encouraging you to grind. one of his hands moves to your throat and suddenly you’re whimpering, struggling to keep going through the tightness in your core to the aching of your nipples. “gonna let you come just like this, lovie. fucking yourself on my lap, crying for me.” the seam of his jeans feels so good against your clit, hitting it at just the right angle to set you off. he grips your throat tighter, a reminder that you stopped kissing him, and you eagerly give him more, soft kisses turning sloppy.

you’re grinding faster and faster, unable to control your movements as you rut against him like a bitch in heat. all you need is to come, and the friction between your legs is about to do it. simon angles his hand on your hip downwards, thumb pressing on your clit over your pajamas. you whine, right on the edge, absolutely needing nothing more than to let go. simon fucks into you, never minding the clothes, and whispers “be a good little wife and come for me.” that’s it, your walls spasming over nothing as you come, collapsing into simon’s arms as he continues to rub your clit, prolonging your orgasm. you’re panting, delirious and tired with the emotional and physical energy of the night, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep.

“sleep with me tonight?” simon asks cautiously, not wanting to spook you. you nod against his shoulder and he takes you both to bed, stripping off his clothes to jump in with you. you stiffen beside him but he isn’t having any of that, pulling you in to be the little spoon. “night, wife.” he murmurs into your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. “night, husband.” you reply, hand covering his as you both drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[dailyhatsune]

What’s YOUR favourite Project Voltage Miku? Mine has to be either Fairy or Water

i haven’t drawn ice on this blog yet so here

[cordeliawhohung]

simon wants you to ride him. you're a little self conscious. he has the perfect solution.

mafia!141

When Simon admitted to you how badly he wanted you to ride him, so many thoughts flooded your mind you were left torn. You wanted to do it, wanted to please him, yet some malevolent pit of anxiety ate away at the back of your mind. You weren't very experienced when it came to things like that, and the idea of Simon staring up at you as you clumsily attempted to fuck him nearly made you cringe. It made you feel stupid. Of course you knew he would never think anything insidious about you, yet your mind had a tendency to play tricks on you, no matter how wrong it was.

Simon's solution? Blindfold him.

It was a makeshift one; a balaclava that he flipped the bottom half up to cover his eyes, yet it was enough to get the job done. The only features of his face you were able to make out was the faint curve of his nose and the gentle parting of his lips as you straddled his hips. Simon was soft and careful as he helped guide himself into you, allowing you to lower yourself onto him with a soft sigh. There was something different about the angle he entered you at that had your thighs clenching around him so hard you swore they'd bruise.

"Easy," he prompted softly. Simon was always patient with you, always reminding you to take your time, but this time was a little different. His anticipation was obvious in the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he swallowed and the throbbing of his cock inside of you. Yet, his hands were soft and comforting against your waist as he rubbed his thumbs along your side as if to remind himself of your fragility. "Take it slow, yeah?"

So you did. Testing the waters, you rocked your hips forward in a circular motion, forcing his sensitive tip to grind against the rubbery barrier of your cervix. It felt strange to have him so deep, to split you so deliciously, and then to just stay there, filling you and keeping you full. Despite the blindfold, Simon was not helpless underneath you. His hips twitched upwards in reaction to the little stimulation you provided to him, prompting you to give him more.

Eventually you fell into a comfortable rhythm, and the crux of your ass slapped against the meat of his thighs each time your body crashed against his. His heart pounded away in his chest and you could feel the sensation ripple all the way through his body and to your hands which rested against his stomach to keep yourself steady. Thick corded muscles tensed in his tattooed arms as he began to assist you in bouncing on his length. He lifted you so high just to pull you back onto him it nearly knocked the breath out of you. Emptied just to be filled to the brim so suddenly, and over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn perfect," he groaned. Soon, your movement alone wasn't enough, and as he bounced you up and down like a doll, his hips began to thrust upwards to meet your body halfway, which sent a moan tumbling out of your mouth. "Doin' so well, treatin' me so good, fuckin' hell..."

At some point, you weren't even riding Simon any more. Between the way he held you by your hips, forcing you up and down on his cock, and thrusting up into you, he did all the work. You could feel all his want and desire pour into you like it usually did when you two fucked, but there was something missing. His eyes. Those beautiful eyes that always looked at you as if you held the world in the palm of your hands, that always devoured you in the kindest way possible.

You collapsed forward, breasts pressing against his chest as your lips collided with his where you ate up his groan. Sticky sweat clung to your body but you ignored it as your hands snaked up to his jaw and then to his cheeks underneath his makeshift blindfold. As you pulled out of the kiss, you carefully removed the mask from over Simon's eyes, revealing his dark, wanting gaze and his messy hair. He had a full view of you with your glistening skin and your dancing body. His eyes soaked up the way your body shook with every thrust, how your breasts bounced from the force, how your lips parted with your moans...

Simon came without warning. There was nothing he could do to hold back or even edge himself from the sight of you, and instead he pulled you down onto him one last time before you felt his warmth flood your cunt and legs twitch behind you. Panting, you allowed yourself to fall limp as you pressed your face into the side of his warm neck, and he returned the gesture in kind as he embraced you, keeping you close to him.

"Sorry," he said once he was able to catch his breath. "Didn't mean to... fuck, just seein' you like that, I couldn't... christ...."

Giggling, you kissed the soft tissue that rested in the crook of his neck before you nuzzled even closer to him, basking in the damp warmth of his body. A strange part of you buzzed at his words, at realizing that you had such an intimate hold over him. Where you had been anxious about the idea of him seeing you like that, so clumsy, he had come completely undone just at the sight of you. So you silenced his apologies with your mouth on his before you leaned back to get a look at his flushed face and messy hair.

"Don't apologize," you said sheepishly. "I'll take it as a compliment."

Smirking, Simon's hands gently came to rest on your hips. "Good."

Suddenly, your world spun as Simon twisted to the side, switching your positions so that you laid on your back underneath him. You squeaked at the whirling movement, something he didn't acknowledge as he began to press kisses against your neck with a hungry groan.

"What are you-?" you attempted to ask, but your question was cut off as Simon pressed his hand against your aching clit.

"What?" he asked, smirk evident in his tone. "You didn't think we were done just because I finished, did you?"

[dmitriene]

mafia ghost needs an obedient pup that will wait for him settled on her knees, docile and lacking of sharp canines, knowing only how to please when he comes back from some business, irritated and in dare need to let off some steam.

simon needs you underneath his wooden desk, with your tongue sticking out, just a warm throat for him, sucking around his rudy tip with your eyes sparkling, directed towards his amber gaze, incinerating every little spot on your face as he gazes at the hollow of your warming up cheeks.

you lap around the veiny girth of him and beading slit until he decides to fuck up into your throat, sucking at the thick cock that pulses on your tongue, stretching your lips, until he places his calloused palms on both sides of your face and starts to thrust.

he needs you being able to wait for him already bare, not a single fabric concealing your flesh or being scattered on the floor, as if you already walked into his cabinet naked, settling yourself on the cold surface of the desk with spread legs, leaking honeyed slick, smearing it along your folds.

simon would like someone as unabashed as himself, to have your fingers stuffed in his mouth, letting him suck and lick on the strings of your cloying slick, as he rolls his hips and thrusts forward, bullying the meaty length of his cock in your tight cunt, velvety and sopping wet, a paradise for him.

to have not something of his own, but someone that will stick beside him on their own accord, and you're the one he needs, placed on his bulky lap during an annoying meeting, face nuzzled against the curve of his neck as he fiddles with your clit.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 8

(A/N) Shopping episode!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: kissies, fluff, Simon is fucking smitten, a lot of money spending, little spice

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

When you walked into the boutique, you were surprised that it was empty. While you had never shopped there, you had walked by multiple times with friends, and it was usually rather full. But no, there was not a soul, besides Simon, two staff members, and you.

“Oh Simon, it’s good to see you. How is Millie?”

An older woman walked out from the back and right to the man beside you, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Imone, it’s good to see you too. Millie is fine, she will probably be mad that we didn’t take her with us when she finds out we went here. And thank you for clearing out the shop for us, I appreciate it.”

She waved her hands in the air, smiling at him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Anything for you.”

Her warm, friendly eyes flickered to you, a grin taking over her mouth.

“And who is this, if I may ask?”

You quickly introduced yourself, your smile widening when Simon hastily added ‘My girlfriend.’.

“Oh, Simon! She is way too pretty for you.”

She grabbed your cheeks lightly squishing them as she grinned at you, before she turned to Simon, chuckling.

“Just kidding, just kidding. Now, what can we do for you?”

Simon rolled his eyes in a good-natured manner, leading you further into the establishment.

“We need a dinner dress for her. Something elegant, but simple.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the Imone rush through the store, picking out dresses and handing them to what you assumed were her assistants, who carried them to a dressing room. While you were completely enamored by her, Simon took the opportunity to look around, picking out a few things and handing them off as well. Once they were both satisfied, you were hurried to the dressing room.

You tried on dress after dress, parading it in front of both Imone and Simon, but after you were done with the first ten, none of you were too happy with any of them. As you walked out in the eleventh dress, you noticed that Simon was on his phone, typing away again, not even looking up and you felt your heart break a little. He probably hated dress shopping, after all, what man would actually enjoy that?

With a quiet sigh, you walked back into the changing room and pulled the curtain close behind you. But before you could call out to one of the assistants to help you out of the dress, the curtain was pushed to the side and Simon entered.

“Is everything okay? You were gone so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to look.”

His eyes found yours in the mirror, concern evident.

“You were busy on your phone, I…I just thought you were tired of seeing me in the umpteenth dress.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands quickly finding your hips as he carefully pulled you back and against his chest.

“Darling, I will never tire of seeing you. I don’t care if you’re in a ballgown or in the same shirt you’ve worn for the last three days. You will always look ravishing and I will always want to see you. I promise.”

He peppered featherlight kisses against the skin of your neck as you relaxed against him, a content smile on your lips. One of his hands drifted to the back of your dress, where he skillfully popped the buttons until the sleeves started to slip down your arms. Out of reflex, you lifted them to keep the fabric from exposing yourself, but when Simon’s warm hands settled over your wrists and gently pulled them down, you didn’t fight it.

“Let me see them…”

He hissed as soon your breasts were fully exposed, nipples quickly hardening under his gaze. You watched in the mirror as his hands lifted, cupping them and humming appreciatively as his thumbs started to rub over your perks. A low moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against his chest, eyes lidded as you gazed up at him.

His eyes were dark as he drank you in, fingers softly pinching and pulling as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You needed to be filled so badly, but he paid you no mind as you quietly whimpered. Only when you whispered his name did he finally look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he took in the state you were in.

“Ssshh…not here, my love. Only I get to hear you when you finally scream my name.”

Another whine left your lips at his words, this one in frustration as he chuckled in amusement. His fingers tugged on your nipples one more time before he lowered his hands until they were wrapped around your waist. One quick kiss to your temple, and he took a step back, coldness filling the space where he once was, but his hands remained on you, keeping you up until he was sure you wouldn’t collapse.

Your breaths still came out in little pants as he let you go, looking around the dressing room before he picked a dress out from underneath the others and hung it on top.

“Why don’t you try this one next?”

With those words and a shit-eating grin, he left the dressing room. You took a few more moments to calm yourself down before you called in one of the assistants and changed into the dress Simon had picked out just minutes before. And you loved it.

It was a beautiful off-shoulder dress with a flowing skirt that reached just beneath your knees. The sleeves were layered and crossed in front to form the bodice. It was made of soft and light satin with a layer of gorgette over it, creating a slight shimmering effect. Once you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you. The color made your skin glow, and the cut hugged you in all the right places.

While you were still standing in the changing room, slowly spinning back and forth, the assistant came back with a pair of heels.

“Mister Riley said to bring these to you. Said they would go nicely with the dress.”

You nodded and held onto the wall as the woman carefully helped you step into them. A relieved sigh left your lips as you noted that the heel wasn’t too tall and appeared to be more of a block than a stiletto. They were surprisingly comfortable to wear as you stepped out and walked to where Simon and Imone were waiting.

The moment the woman caught sight of you, a loud gasp escaped her, and she turned to Simon, whose eyes were slowly moving down your body, a hungry look in them.

“You look fabulous, darling.”

You grinned at Imone and quietly thanked her before your eyes focused on the man before. His hands were curled into fists, which rested on the top of his thighs and he looked as if it took everything within him to not pounce on you that very moment.

“We’ll take that one, as well as the shoes.”

Instantly, you tried to reach behind you, your fingers searching for the price tag, but Simon just chuckled, knowing what you were trying to do.

“Don’t worry about it. They don’t have price tags here.”

He got to his feet and slowly stalked towards you, wrapping his hands around your waist the moment he was close enough. Involuntarily, you immediately relaxed against him, leaning closer out of instinct. He grinned down at you, gently pecking your lips before spinning you around and sending you back to the changing room with a light pat against your ass.

By the time you were back in your own clothes, Simon had already paid and was waiting for you on the couch. The moment he heard you approaching, he looked up from his phone, a soft smile on his face, you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“The bags are already in the car. Ready to leave when you are.”

You nodded and looked around. If you were honest with yourself, you could spend hours in this store. The dresses weren’t all; they also had a huge shoe section and an entire room just for accessories. But for today, you were more than happy with what you had tried on what Simon had bought you.

“Let’s go.”

He nodded and got to his feet, his hand immediately finding yours and holding onto it. Both of you bid goodbye to Imone - who had you promise to stop by again soon and bring Millie next time - before you walked back out into the street and to the car. Once the both of you sat inside, and Simon was about to start the engine, his phone pinged and he pulled it out, a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Millie’s classes are ending early today. Do you mind if we pick her up?”

You grin, already excited to see the little girl again.

“Of course not!”

Simon smiled, gently raising your hand to his lips before pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles.

“Let’s go then.”

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash @xanvasy @reader-1290

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[glossysoap]

i need a ‘mafia/stalker/just generally obsessed with reader au’ but one where the 141 want to make a list of everyone who’s wronged you and you actually respond with names 😭 whether you say it in a joking manner or not, they don’t care.

they’re jotting all the names down.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[I almost killed your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich]- Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After the unexpected encounter with Soap and Ghost, your shop finally owns the vibes of peace.

The customers become so ‘normal’, almost feels like you aren’t in the same area as before – if you ignore the blood on their shirts or recall the memory of seeing them punching someone across the street. You assume the men must tell them to behave in your shop, but you must say the minions become a bit overreacting. They call you ma'am, chat as quietly as possible, and one of them even apologizes when he accidentally touches your finger as if you will chop off his pinky. You start doubting if they view you as a secret henchman of 141.

It’s morning now, the shop usually has more people at this time, but you haven’t had a single customer since you opened it 30 minutes ago, they just vanished without any hint, hence you start testing out new recipes for your bread.

Lilting the song that’s fully out of tune, you slice the bread you just baked into pieces, and throw one into your mouth. Perfectly crunchy outside, fluffy like clouds inside. Oh my, you’re such a genius.

You’re totally unaware of your visitor until he stirs the air with a cough and his voice.

“Pardon me?” He calls you again, but you’re left in a trance when you land your eyes on him.

Damn, he looks just like your imagination of the man in the Dilf next door fic you just read yesterday on co5. Your eyes travel from his well-trim beard, south to his belted waist. Why does a man with a toned body – which his khaki coat can’t even hide –  have such a tiny waist? Your mouth's agape at the sight as you’re about to respond.

“mmsadjsmm” The man raises his eyebrow in confusion, and you hear your voice not forming a proper sentence too. Ah, you forgot the bread’s still stuffed in your mouth.

“ehemm, Sorry Sir, I mean what would you like to have?” Quickly swallow the bread and try to pretend you didn’t just dumbfounded in front of him, you speak again.

“English breakfast, please.” He croons with an infatuating smile as he saunters to take a seat. 

His voice is quite soothing, you admit in your mind as you start brewing said man’s tea, just like you presumed the Dilf in the fic… okay, you really should clear those nasty brainrots during work.

The tea is nicely served in the tea cup and brought to the man shortly after.

You can’t help the smile crawling onto your face when you see him grin at you after a sip. You love watching your customer enjoy your tea, and he obviously relaxes with it have you bask in your achievements.

“Don’t finish your breakfast?”

“Just trying a new recipe. I want to add it to my menu.” you reply with a shake of your head, and after a brief halt, you add a question “ Have you eaten breakfast yet, Sir”

“Call me John, love.” The man – John sets his cup on the table before continuing “And no, I haven’t”

“Then… would you like to have a grilled cheese sandwich? I can’t finish the bread myself, it would be great if someone could help me with it... Of course, it isn’t a must!" You hurriedly complement when John widens his eyes slightly at your suggestion, but he meets your eyes with interest within.

”I would love to.”

You beam up as you get the affirmation, and walk behind your counter again.

Slices of bread are already prepared. The pro tip for a delicious grilled cheese sandwich is giving the bread some nice seasoning first, so you pick up your black pepper jar before inquiring about John’s preference.

“How much pepper would you like, John?”

“Would be great if it’s more.”

“Alright.”

You turn back to season the bread, but when you pick up the pepper jar and about to shake it, a question slips into your brain making you pause.

How much is “more”?

The man doesn't have time to sit here and wait for you to contemplate the philosophy of seasoning, so after biting your bottom lip and thinking for 30 seconds, you shake the jar. More is better, you recall what John told you as your hand keeps moving.

You shake it 10 times, since more is better.

Apart from the bread, you hold full confidence in your grilled cheese sandwich. Placing generous amounts of cheese in between, the coveted smell flooded your little shop as you plate the well-toasted sandwich.

“It surely smells great.” John praises before diving in.

You hang a big expecting grin until John takes a bite and starts coughing like you will put him into the ER with a sandwich.

“It’s– it’s okay…love…” He tries to comfort you when you apologize abundantly and rush back to your counter to fill him a cup of water. Holy, isn’t more pepper better? Now you're going to send the man to heaven with a grilled cheese sandwich.

“Here’s water!” You go back to John as fast as you can with the cold water in your hand, you’re busy checking out John, who stops coughing madly but cheeks pink with the spices, and you don’t see the leg of the chair sticking out of its usual place.

A pair of arms catch you from slamming onto the floor, but the cup isn’t that lucky as it flies with Newton’s help and clatters on the floor.

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” You stabilize yourself in John’s support. But wow,  now the man not only just recovered from a fatal attack to his throat, but also has a wet spot spreading along the chest part of his shirt.

“No worries, love. It’s just a shirt.”

Even though John attempts to calm you, you still can’t help the sheepishness creep to your cheeks and stain it with the same pink as John’s, or stop thinking about if the balance in your bank account is able to buy the man a new shirt. You remember you wanted to get some cash out of the cashpoint but it shoved an ‘insufficient funds :(‘ into your face.

You really don’t want any customers to come in right now, even if it means your little tea shop will close down because you only have one from the start of today, but fate always gifts you things you crave when you don’t need them.

“Sorry boss, I’m late.”

You look at the tan-skinned man standing like a model just escaped from his manager, staring at you shoving a towel on John’s chest and both of your cheeks smeared with suspicious red.

“What happened?”

I almost murdered your boss with my grilled cheese sandwich. Apparently, you can’t answer with this, so you face John for help.

and he’s looking at you too, with a sly smirk awaiting your explanation.

You wonder if you can just make two sandwiches to shut these men up, with one more for yourself to end this predicament now.

a/n: ty for reading :D have a nice day/night!

No John Price is harmed in this chapter.

tag list :D - @blackhawkfanatic @nexthyperfix @danielle143

[jj-the-hobbit171]

Imagine that when the tf141 gets betrayed by Graves and captured, word makes it to Mafia!reader… and all hell breaks loose in the home of the next Don.

Vases shattered on walls, tables flipped over in a flurry of anger, and the messenger, dead on the floor.

Readers composed stance had been long abounded, and replaced with a rage and an animal. They look up from the pool of blood on the ground, growling at the goon the just enters the room. Even the air stood still.

“Where?”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This wasn’t how Johnny thought he would die, lined up with his teammates and partners in life, with guns pressed at the back of their heads, forced to kneel for a merch as he talked on and on. Soap closed his eyes, tending waiting for the bullet…. It never came.

An array of gunshots rang around them,mixing with the cries of fallen men, before the door blocking it all bursted open.

“Phillip, Phillip”, reader said calmly, as they walked up to graves.

“Why do you do this?” They question, before sighing, “everyone in you circle knows not to touch what belongs to la vena d'oro”….

They giggle, before full blown laughing, then suddenly stopping,to look at their lovers bound on the floor, their eyes soften,before callings few of their men to help them up and get them to safety.

Price awoke to being carried into a car when a shot rang out of the base….

[vnards]

Mafia141 p.4

The boys react quickly, like they’re trained to do. You don't.

Ghost is able to tackle you to the ground before bullets start flying through the windows.

The sound of gunfire and glass shatters the peace, a familiar ringing to everyone but you. One moment you're focused on not spilling anything, now, with the mugs shattered on the floor, a heavy weight on top of you, and loud shots piercing in the air, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

The bullets seemed endless, embedding themselves in the walls and booths. Another body covered you, keeping your face pressed to the floor. There was crying. It’s coming from you.

After what felt like minutes, the shooting stopped.

Silence followed.

“Sit rep.”

The body above you finally lets you lift your head. You look around to see the diner in carnage. The plush in the booths were torn and shredded, some of the stuffing still hovering in the air. Everything glass on the counter were shattered. The cold wind came in through the broken windows.

“Good here.” A voice broke through the ringing in your ears.

“Johnny?”

“A'm right here.” He grumbled. There was a string of words that sounded like cursing.

Your heart is still pounding like a mallet as the boys around you began to get up.

You were being moved before you could even realize it. You were being lifted in the air and back on your feet like you weighed nothing before you could get your bearings. Simon’s eyes scanned you over as you were finally able to start moving your tongue again “W-what-“

“Gaz, secure the perimeter.” Movement followed his orders,  one of your “customers” move to Simon's order. Your confusion is hard to hide. “Go get your stuff. We’re leaving.” You look around at the two remaining men left in the diner; Simon, his hand on your back, keeping you steady and Johnny, the Scottish man with a Mohawk and his white dress shirt bleeding across his peck.

“You’re hurt.”

Both men looked to where you pointed, Johnny grumbled under his breath, “Fuckers ruined my new shirt.” He poked at the blood, some coming off his hand as he examined it.

Something about seeing him bleeding shocks you back to life, “T-the first aid kit is in the back. I can-" you move to go retrieve it.

Johnny caresses your shoulder “It’s alright, little bird, it’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.” The vibrant blue in his eyes holds a boyish joy to them. “But I’ll never say no to you.” He winks.

The sudden flirtatious attitude from Johnny was whiplash compared to the carnage that surrounded you. “Not now, Johnny.” Simon scolded. It didn’t look like Johnny was sorry, “I gotta tell Price the meeting’s a bust.” He slides his phone out, trying how to not pissed the boss of about this. “Make sure she gets her stuff.” He was at least going to grant you that before bringing you into the mess that is tonight.

Johnny salutes, trying to break under the primal fear of the past few minutes that consumes you into being paralyzed in the moment. With Ghost and Gaz gone, it’s up to Johnny to keep you calm enough to not go into shock. His chest puffs up a bit, being given the opportunity to keep you safe and calm, but it’s not the time. “Actually, birdie,” Your eyes finally meet his, “I could use that first aid kit. Could you get it for me?”

A task. Something to help you move forward. You nod soundlessly and gave yourself a moment to calm your shaking hands, your barely controlled breathing.

First aid kit.

You enter the back of the room and head to the office where your stuff is. You’re mind is still a blank with static before you have a chance to realize you’re not alone.

Another weight, this time less gentle, slams you against the frozen storage and pins you there. The wind is knocked out of you as a body twice the size of you, unable to scream or cry in pain. “No one mentioned there would be a reward.” The stranger leered.

You try to speak again, but there’s a third body knocked into you. Your head is slammed against the door and everything hurts. You fall to the floor, no longer pinned against the cold door. Regardless, the world still spins.

You hear a struggle and the few moments of clarity you can get shows that Johnny is grappling with on the floor outside the office, his opponent in a headlock. The other man throws an elbow that connects and his grip falters, allowing him to get the upper hand.

The strange man swings again, this time an elbow to Johnny’s nose knocks off his balance, “You fucker!” He growls.

The larger man is able to tower over Johnny, taunting. You are so paralyzed in fear when you spot the shine of a barrel coming out.

A shot rings out. There’s yelling

When you open your eyes again,  the body that was towering over Soap was toppling over, dead weight. The blood pouring out of the hole in his skull a shocking horror to you. You finally start to scream.

The darker skinned man came forward in your field of view, “You’re okay, princess, you don’t need to be scared.” Too late. You slip out of consciousness.

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