#anyway here's my mafia boss

[blackbackedjackal]

I love her your honor

[liauditore]

he just wanted to be a farmer :C

[hua-fei-hua]

thank you for all the sweet tags fei fei 🥺 (may i call you that?) it literally made my day haha you're too kind <33

ah, i typically go by "hua" online actually! :D

but yes ofc you're welcome to the compliments!!!! your art is so cute i wish to hold it gently, like hamburger <3 and then eat it LOL

[cordeliawhohung]

i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them

oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot

The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.

However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.

"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.

"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."

"So much for girls night," she muttered.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."

And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.

"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.

"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.

God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.

"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.

"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."

You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.

"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.

"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."

He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."

This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.

And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-

"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.

"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.

Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.

He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."

writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3

[spdrwdw]

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 

“What?” You questioned. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 

[toruro]

— ✧ bark (like a dog)

a part of new rules ... a svt performance unit x mafia au series !

description. kwon soonyoung is hot. he's fucking smoking, but also painfully out of your reach—being your father's main hitman assistant means that, by the books, he's pretty much off limits. but then again, when did silly stuff like rules ever stop you?

genre. smut (18+), brief angst, mafia au

warnings/tags: PLEASE READ! mentions of murder & death bc hoshi is a hitman, descriptions of blood, reader is daughter of mafia boss, mean dom hoshi, gun play (unloaded), or4l (m receiving), jealousy, sp4nking, breath control, praise kink, blindfolds, th1gh r1iding, pet names (princess, angel, good girl), consent is SEXY

w/c: 7.3k

a/n: thank u @gyuswhore for proofreading hehe ... anyways this is like smut w a hint of plot. sorry not sorry my head's been so full of him

You don’t get nervous.

Not when you overhear your father talking about some risky new plans and not when you go out and know there’s a target on your back.

Not when you snuck out your apartment tonight without your bodyguard to just pop into the galleria that you heard some of your father’s men talking about. Which, by the way, you totally didn’t do because one of them mentioned Kwon Soonyoung being there. Yeah. Totally not.

You weren’t nervous when you waltz into the galleria, in some pretty dress pants and a cute black t-shirt that may or may not have been showing a lot more skin than your father likes. The night was going great, honestly. Fantastic, even.

Until your eyes landed on the very reason you even decided to come here. Kwon Soonyoung.

Again, you don’t get nervous. It’s simply not in your DNA.

So why does having this man next to you make your vision bleary and heart heavy?

“Did you like it?” you murmur, toeing at the grass beneath you with bare feet. You’re at your father’s house now. Soonyoung caught sight of you after you caught sight of him laughing with another woman, which totally shouldn’t have bothered you but you felt green boil in your stomach anyways.

And you watched her lead him into some other hallway with a man and then Soonyoung was gone. He was doing whatever he does, you know? You don’t want to pry into his work, but seeing as he’s your father’s favorite man, it’s kind of hard to avoid the truth.

Soonyoung was definitely just doing his job. Talked to the woman, peppered a few kisses on her cheek to butter her up, got her to introduce to a man who was maybe probably definitely his target, and then he walked out again, fixing his coat over his shoulders as he returned alone. He took you home after that.

You squirm just at the thought. Nightly zephyrs pinch at your skin as you stand in the backyard, but as you feel Soonyoung’s gaze burn into the back of your head, your body warms nonetheless.

Even turned away from him, you can practically feel the way his eyebrow cocks up. “Like what?”

You scoff and roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see you. Oh well, he probably knows anyway. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not sure I do, angel,” he replies without hesitation. Your mind races at the nickname, not because you think it’s a term of endearment, but because you’re almost sure that he’s mocking you. Angel. Fuck, everyone knows you’re anything but a damn angel, and you’d be an idiot to think Soonyoung meant anything other than to belittle you right now.

“Sure,” you mutter dryly, running one hand down your face, before turning around to face him. Kwon Soonyoung is hot, as always, with his dark messy hair falling right over his eyebrows, one of which has a little slit carved into the edge, his plump lips and sharp eyes that watch you carefully.

Even under the dim light of the night sky, he seems to glow beneath the moon.

“Are you going to be all pouty like this for the rest of the night?” When you don’t respond, he huffs loudly. You don’t want him to be annoyed with you, but you cross your arms over your chest and press your feet into the soil stubbornly anyways. “Am I going to have to call Taehyun to drive you home?”

“What, you don’t want to bother doing that yourself?” you snap. Fuck, you don’t even know why you said that. It isn’t Soonyoung’s job to take care of you in any way. Sure he indirectly does that by heeding your father’s order—by killing off any threats when they pop up, but nowhere in his title’s description does it say he needs to take you home, to coddle you, to watch over you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks, and you want to fucking strangle him because if it wasn’t painfully obvious, then to make it clear once more, yeah you want him to take you home. You want him to pull you to his car and press a hand on your thigh and then creep it up your legs until your squirming under his touch and—

You need to stop getting ahead of yourself. Your relationship is—god, you want to say it’s professional, but you can’t even call it that. You and Kwon Soonyoung, your relationship is somehow both less and more than professional.

It’s so intimate—he’s your father’s most loyal worker, he’d go to any lengths to keep your family, to keep you, safe. And yet, even after you’ve seen the blood on his clothes and the imprint of his gun in his pants, he’s a stranger.

Not because you don’t know his favorite color, or because he doesn’t know what kind of food you like, but because even as a million thoughts run through your head, you’re pretty sure he can’t figure out a single one of them.

Finally, you speak up, reverting the topic without answering his question. “Do you really not know what I’m talking about?” Your voice is smaller this time.

“Are you trying to play a guessing game with me?”

Your glare hardens on him. “Fuck you,” you spit out, and Soonyoung puts his hands up in a surrendering motion. “The galleria—did you have fun? Did you like it?”

“Well angel, I hate to break it to you but I was just doing my job. Not that you would know, since you’ve never had to work a damn day in your life, but I don’t necessarily love my job. So if that’s what you want to know, then I guess you have your answer.”

“And with her? Did you—”

“What are you talking about?” he cuts you off harshly, and you’re slightly taken aback by the way his voice booms louder.

“Didn’t know kissing pretty women was a part of your job,” you murmur gruffly before finally making your way to the door that leads back into the house.

“Where’re you going?”

“I also didn’t know that keeping track of where I’m going was a part of your job.”

“You’re not making any damn sense right now, I hope you know that.”

Slipping on some socks, you go on, “Is listening to me a part of your job too? If not, I suggest you just leave me alone and—”

“God, what the hell are you goin’ on about, with all this job shit? Since when did you care about what I do to get a job done?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” you conclude, going to open the door before Soonyoung’s hand stops you.

“Stop being a brat,” he hisses, causing you to press your lips together tightly.

“I am not being a brat,” you scoff, ripping your arm away from him. “If anything, you’re the attention seeker who—”

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, attention seeker?”

“Well you were basically throwing yourself at that woman and—” Your breath hitches when you realize what you’ve just said, and you slap a hand over your mouth as you look down.

Soonyoung clicks his tongue, but it’s not as disappointed as you except … if anything, he sounds … sorry. “What do you want from me? You know it’s my job.”

You scoff, shoving your head in your hands out of humiliation. “I think you know exactly what I want from you,” you mutter. Now you’re not really sure what you’re expecting from Soonyoung but it’s definitely not his strong hand on your wrists, forcing you to look up at him.

“Do you want me to take you home or not?”

You look at him, mortified at the bluntness of his suggestion.

“I—what?”

“Look, you’re not very discreet and—”

“Oh my god, stop talking. I need to go and—”

Soonyoung grabs your face. It’s gentle, but his touch is firm and his eyes don’t break away from yours for a moment. His fingers press into the plush of your cheeks, and there’s a both nerve-wracking and alluring aura to it.

“Let’s take you home, or I tell your father where you were last night. How you left your cozy little apartment without your dear Mr. Choi who, if I recall, is supposed to accompany you wherever you go.”

You gape at him—there is no way he’s threatening you right now. You blink once, and then twice, and Soonyoung’s gaze remains unwavering.

Fuck.

Which is how you find yourself seated patiently on Soonyoung’s couch, thighs pressed together and hands on your knees cutely as you watch him fill up a glass of water. You wonder if he can hear the beating of your heart.

If he can, he doesn’t comment on it, instead breaking the silence when he walks over to you, “I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for.”

You grin immediately. “Some fun, of course,” you reply, mentally marveling at your own wit.

Soonyoung fucking laughs at you. His eyes are peering down at you carefully as he juts the glass of water to you, and he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that you should just take the damn glass and drink.

His gaze doesn’t waver when you bring the glass up to your lips, slowly but surely downing all its contents and letting the cool water attempt to put out the flames that burn in your stomach. “Good job,” he murmurs, smoothing one hand over your head when you place the glass on his coffee table, the simple but impactful words sending shivers down your spine.

Making the risky decision to test your luck once more, you bat your lashes and bring your arms closer together in front of you so that your tits bunch up, giving Soonyoung a perfect view from above. “So? When’s the fun gonna start?”

Something in his eyes darkens, but you choose to ignore it as Soonyoung slips his dark work coat off, letting it fall behind him on the coffee table. What follows is a heavy thud and clank and your stomach churns at the thought of what caused such a sound.

“Listen,” Soonyoung says, his voice firm but not as demeaning as before. “I need to know where your head is at.” he pauses.

You pout and then raise a challenging brow. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

Soonyoung chuckles, and reaches back for his coat, rummaging through the inner pockets for a moment as your blood runs cold in realization. He unsheathes a heavy black gun from the dark fabric, holding it close to his dress shirt as he smooths a finger over the barrel.

You try to move your fingers but they’re frozen in place as he watches the look on your face contort into some odd look of awe.

“Let me rephrase that,” Soonyoung murmurs. “I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

The air is stuck in your throat and your lungs squeeze and writhe for some semblance of sanity, but the way his thick fingers caress the heavy metal of the gun has your vision going blurry. He’s tracing over all the dips, the curves, the crevices, and you can only imagine what it’ll feel like if you had the cool, heavy, pistol pressed against your skin while Soonyoung’s fingers are all over you.

Your eyes are clouded, and he stills for a moment, subtly sliding the gun past his side and hiding it behind his back with one hand, using the other to grab your chin and tilt your head so you’re craning your neck to look up at him.

“So be honest with me right now.”

He doesn’t say it, but you know what he’s asking for. You don’t have to think about your answer, not one bit, and that’s because through everything, you trust Soonyoung. You trust him with your life, and you trust him with more.

“I’m willing to do whatever you want,” you tell him almost immediately. There’s no hesitation, no apprehension—Soonyoung knows when he looks you in the eye and he swears he feels his heart grow ten times in his chest when your pupils dilate.

Slowly, he brings his hand from his back to the front, the grip of the gun pressing back against his lower abdomen as he squeezes your cheeks together with his other hand. Your lips bunch together in a pucker and he pinches the bottom lip for a moment, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the drool that slides down his chin.

“That’s a pretty bold statement, princess,” he finally says, a sharp clicking sound resonating through the room when he shifts the gun in his hand.

“I can take it,” you insist through squished lips, looking up at Soonyoung with some kind of determination that boils his blood with pure passion.

“You’re confident …” he mutters, holding the gun close to your cheek, pressing the cold metal against your warm skin. You can’t be sure if action helps you cool down or only heats you up anymore, but a wanton whimper escapes your lips and suddenly you have your answer.

Soonyoung watches how you swallow at the contact, fingers quivering by your side and he lets his hand relax for a second, holding the gun by his side. “It’s unloaded.”

“I-I wouldn’t care either way,” you mumble, slightly annoyed that Soonyoung dropped his hand. “I trust you.”

Soonyoung smiles, letting go of your cheeks and instead gripping the back of your neck, running his thumb up and down your collarbone. “It’s okay to be scared, angel. Two taps to stop,” he tells you, pointing at his wrist.

You roll your eyes tentatively, unsure if it’s the right move. When Soonyoung quickly presses the muzzle against your lips, you deduct that rolling your eyes was, in fact, the best thing you could have done.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he mutters, feigning discontent as he tries to ignore the way his dick twitches in his work pants when you part your mouth and let the gun sink further into your mouth.

The taste of metal on your tongue is unfamiliar, and frankly the hardness of the gun is quite uncomfortable but when you press your tongue against the base of the barrel, and swirl it over the sides, you imagine it’s Soonyoung’s cock in your mouth instead.

He’s steadying you with his hand pressed at your neck, holding the gun at an angle above you without moving it. The sight of you sucking and struggling, drool dripping down your chin and skin flushing—he’s in heaven he swears.

Cute eyes looking up at him with such desperation, pleading with him silently because you can’t speak—not with the way his gun is stuffed between your pretty lips. “Fuck, how does it feel princess?” he groans at just the image alone.

You’re silent, because of course, how could you say a thing. The only sounds that bounce off the walls are the filthy slurping of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks, tears peeking from your waterline as Soonyoung presses the gun further down your mouth, the now slick barrel sliding easily past your teeth.

Your jaw aches and you gag as you adjust to the feeling, but the reality of it all starts to hit you, and it’s dizzying. Soonyoung—fuck, he’s here in front of you with his gun shoved down your throat and you’re looking up at him like he has all the answers to the universe and more.

And more is exactly what you want, and Soonyoung can tell because even as squeaks erupt from your throat and your fingers tremble when they fly up and grip at his thigh, you don’t pull away and you don’t tap out.

It’s worrying for a moment, because here you are with tears streaming down your cheeks but he can hear your silent pleas of don’t stop, please, please, please, don’t stop, and he feels he might go insane at the thought that you’re just as deranged as him.

“So pretty,” he praises, and you press your lips down and whine at the way the words have your cunt throbbing. Slowly, Soonyoung starts to pull the gun out of your mouth, your jaw going slack at the feeling of your tongue being free, but your face is on fire and you just need to do more.

You continue to lap against the gun, swirling it over the circular muzzle when he’s just about pulled it out all the way, not breaking eye contact with Soonyoung for even a moment. It’s addicting, the way he watches you—bottom lip lodged between his own teeth and jaw clenched tight as he imagines it’s his cock inside your mouth instead.

“God fuck, you’re insane,” he says when you kiss the side of the barrel one last time before he carefully places the pistol behind him. For the first time tonight (and ever, for that matter), Soonyoung kisses you. He grabs your warm face and leans down to smash his lips against your swollen, tired mouth.

You’re fatigued already, he can tell, and takes this as his chance to press his tongue against yours and explore the very mouth that sucked against his gun just moments earlier. He can still taste the metal on your tongue, letting your lips melt together as one for just a moment before pulling away.

He can tell there’s a complaint threatening to leave your lips, but he makes sure it shrivels when he shoots you a knowing look. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think? Did s’good for me …”

You nod eagerly, and Soonyoung is thoroughly surprised by how quickly you’ve bounced back, trailing his fingers down from your face to your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. Your legs are wobbly and for a moment, you stumble forward but Soonyoung catches you, his arm steadily belted around your hips.

“Already done?” he asks, but it’s more of a tease than anything. Still, you take it as a challenge and shake your head as he leads you to his bedroom. It’s dimly lit, only the moon through the window and its reflection against a mirror leading you the way to his bed as he hops on, laying back as you stand by the foot of the bed.

He raises a brow. “What are you waiting for? Strip.”

“W-what?”

Soonyoung is still fully clothed, legs spread slightly as he hikes one knee up and watches you expectantly. “Princess,” he coos, “I said strip.”

You shudder at the request when it finally sinks in, and you quickly follow by pushing your pants down and pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you completely topless, your lower half donned with nothing but a set of black satin panties.

Soonyoung swears his heart stops at the sight, and just as you’re about to push them down, he holds his hand out. “Leave them on, come here.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice this time, and you crawl onto the foot of the bed before making your way in between his legs, only stopping when Soonyoung places his heavy hands on your shoulders and smoothes them down your bare arms.

You sigh contently at the contact, instinctively shooting one hand between your legs to rub at the growing ache. You hardly make it though, Soonyoung’s hand shooting out and stopping your wrist halfway. “Thought you wanted a reward? Getting ahead of yourself, huh …”

You shake your head vehemently. “N-no—I jus’—need something, need you, Soonyoung,” you confess, leaning forward in hopes that he’ll meet you halfway for a kiss.

He doesn’t, opting to watch you amusedly as you squirm on all fours in front of him. “Show me how much you need me,” Soonyoung rasps out, helping you settle over yourself over his thigh before placing his arms behind his head and leaning back against the headboard casually.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you place your hands on his chest for hardly a second before he swats them away. “W-what?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he asks, and he’s definitely mocking you with his tone. “And keep your hands to yourself—you only get to touch me if you can prove to me you want this.”

“I want it, Soonyoung, so bad! So, so, so bad, you don’t understand!” you whine, bouncing yourself up and down to punctuate your word but gasps leaving your lips at the friction it leaves behind.

“Yeah well,” he sighs, adjusting his body so he’s laying even further back down. “Make me understand. Make yourself cum.” Your plush lips part, agape at his proposition. Why he can’t just fuck you into the sheets right here and right now is beyond you, but Soonyoung’s eyes light like a flame and you aren’t sure if you want to add fuel to the fire or put out.

Tentatively, you rut your core against the hard muscle of his thigh, the friction of his dark dress pants shooting pleasure through your flimsy panties. You have half a mind to rip the damn fabric off, but the rubbing of cloth that bunches around your clit is more pleasurable than anything.

“See,” Soonyoung murmurs, as you repeat the motion of rocking yours forward and back in a slow rhythm. “Pretty angel does know how to work for something. Let’s see if you can keep it up,” he hums, and you glower down at him.

“I-I know how to work,” you huff, grinding down extra hard as a means to prove your point, but your argument falls flat when you whimper, hands falling forward on his chest as your body lurches forward. Soonyoung’s own firm grip lands on your wrists, yanking them off of him.

“Do you, now?” he scoffs. “Can’t follow simple fuckin’ directions,” he says under his breath, and instead of glaring, your eyebrows furrow as you hold your arms close to your chest, massaging your tits yourself to keep your hands occupied.

“‘m sorry Soonyoungie,” you say softly, losing the attitude that held your head up and replacing it with a wave of compliance as you cling onto the friction against your cunt, desperate to not let your far-away orgasm to ebb away.

“Soonyoungie, huh?” he mutters, watching the way your tits bounce when you work your body in a harsher up and down motion, letting the soiled fabric of your panties to stain his own pants. “Cute name, but you’re gonna have to work a bit harder,” he comments, and he’s true to his word because Soonyoung does think it’s cute. He thinks you’re cute, and hot, and pretty, and the only person he wants to stick his dick into, but fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you beg, make you sob for it …

Fervently, you start to find a pace that’s steadily increasing, thighs burning and twitching at every brush of your sopping pussy over him. You’re wet—so wet—and you know Soonyoung can feel it through his pants. How he’s so still and composed is beyond you, and while you try to think about what’s running through his mind, your brain goes empty the second you feel one of his hands on your hips.

“So spoiled,” he chides, and you want to shake your head and protest, ‘cause no! You’re not spoiled! But you know damn well that’d be a lie, and as you feel Soonyoung flex his muscle beneath you and use his hand to help swivel your hips, it’s only confirmed.

“Hnggff—S-Soony—”

“S’okay,” he groans, when the knee that’s wedged between his legs brushes against his crotch that holds his undeniably hard cock. You both shudder at the feeling—Soonyoung because of the small but relieving stimulation, and you because of the anticipation of feeling him inside of you. “Go on, baby, can tell you’re close. Fuck yourself like this—I know you can do it.”

“Hurts,” you sigh softly as your legs begin to tremble and give into the fatigue. “Soonie, I can’t, I—” you cut yourself off with your own high pitched moan when he hikes his leg up a little higher, causing you ro shift forward and arch your back so that your clit was pressed perfectly against his thigh. “God, fuck.”

“What do you mean you can’t, angel?” he coos in that both infuriating and pulsing tone of his. “You’re doin’ it for me right now …”

“I—I …” the words dry right on your throat when your orgasm crashes into you, the ghost of Soonyoung’s name on your tongue as you fall forward. You know he told you no touching, no holding, none of that, but fuck, even he can’t be mad when you press your face into his chest with low mewls bubbling up in your throat.

Securing an arm around your waist, he bounces his thigh upwards to push you through your fall, squeezing out every last bit of pleasure you’ll allow him until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation but too exhausted to pull away.

“‘m tired,” you whine through broken gasps, as you pull away and look up blankly at the ceiling. Soonyoung watches the way your tits shift with every inhale and exhale, and before he knows it he’s fumbling at the buckle of his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down so his dripping cock can finally breathe.

The sound of his length slapping against his firm abdomen has you blinking into reality quicker than you can think, and you glance at Soonyoung who sits in front of you. His cock is standing up, pulsing tall and proud, adorning a pretty, angry tip that smears precum over his defined abs.

“Too tired?” he piques, but with the way that drool dribbles at the corner of your lips, he knows he already has an answer. Grinning when you shake your head vigorously, he shifts himself so his bare legs hang over the edge of the bed, his hands placed behind him as he leans back. “Get on the ground.”

Two hours ago, you would have shut down the proposition immediately. Getting on the ground for a man? Completely out of your scope. Unfathomable, honestly.

But Soonyoung’s voice is so … it’s—he isn’t proposing, or suggesting, or asking, no … Soonyoung is demanding and you’d be damned to let him think you’re anything less than obedient. Quickly, you push yourself up and crawl over to where he’s sitting before slipping off the bed and slotting yourself between his legs.

As you sit back on your heels, the wetness of your core slides down your thighs and as your legs press together, the arousal smears against your supple skin, undoubtedly making a mess. It feels so dirty and lewd but as Soonyoung watches you with dark eyes, you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet.

Gentler than you were expecting, he uses one hand to hold your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Angel got a smart mouth, huh,” he says, as if he’s talking to himself as he runs a thumb over your lips, starting from the top then circling down to the bottom. He scoops up some of the drool that you hadn’t wiped away and then pushes it all back into your mouth from the corner of your lips. “You think you can put it to good use?”

“‘course I can,” you say a bit more proudly than Soonyoung enjoys. You’re cute, yeah—fuck yeah—but you look up at him like it’s some sort of challenge and he just needs to remind you of who’s really in charge.

And so he holds you by the crown of your head, guiding your mouth close to his cock which dons a dribble of precum. You stick your tongue out at the sight, eyes wide in anticipation as he uses his other hand to guide your own fingers to your thigh. “Same thing,” he tells you, “two taps and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” you agree, verbally this time with a nod before pushing your tongue back out in hopes that he’ll speed it all out because fuck, you haven’t ever wanted to feel a cock in your mouth this badly. But who can blame you? It’s so long and thick and—god, it’s so heavy when he taps that tip against your tongue.

You open your mouth wider, anticipating him to push it down further like he did with the gun, but you should’ve known better. Should’ve known that Soonyoung likes toying around with you.

Soonyoung lets you lap precum off his shiny tip, swirling over the slit for just a second before he’s lifting his cock and then slapping it back down on your tongue this time. The contact is light, but the thickness of it all and the ache in your core has you pleading for more.

When a desperate whimper rips through your throat, Soonyoung grins. And so he does it again. And again. And again. Slapping his cock on your tongue until he can’t handle it anymore, cock throbbing at just the thought of you sucking against him like you did his pistol, and slides his length into your mouth without warning.

“Fuck,” he moans, and you vaguely wonder if there could be anything that sounds more melodic. You press your tongue against the length, hardening the tip and tracing it over the curves, the veins—anything and everything you can feel—as if you were trying to memorize him bit by bit.

Soonyoung basks in it, the image of you stuffed with his cock in your mouth, lips puffy but eyes somehow begging for more. He loves it, he tells himself in his head. Such a spoiled girl, but then again, his spoiled girl.

“Ready?” he asks, stiffening his hold on your hair and giving you a knowing look. Meekly, you nod with his cock still spreading your lips, and with nothing more than a nod, Soonyoung pushes you down his full length, nose pressed against his pelvis as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

And it hurts so good—your jaw is sore and you’re on the verge of gagging because he’s so big but something about the way your lungs burn and throat tightens has your mind set on not stopping.

Soonyoung is watching you intently when he finally lets go, pulling you off of his length and allowing you a moment to breathe. He wonders how far is too far with you, but when you just pant heavily, looking up at him with your tongue stuck out once more, inching closer to him, he figures he’s still got a long way to go.

So Soonyoung does it again; softly murmurs, “Take a deep breath,” and then yanks your head down until all you can feel is his cock bullying its way through your lips, your hollowed out cheeks, your throat. His loud moans egg you on, and you nearly start to tremble at the way you start to feel light-headed. He holds you down for longer this time, and this time, tears are gushing down your face but no, you won’t relent.

Its enthralling for the both of you, and it doesn’t stop. Soonyoung starts a pattern. Push down, hold, release, repeat. Push down, hold, release, repeat. And he does it until he feels his cock twitch in your warm mouth and has to almost push you back to hold off from cumming.

He just can’t do it, not yet. Not until he’s felt you flush against his skin, bodies intertwined as he fucks into you.

So when he pulls you off this time, you know it’s the last (for now, at least). You breathe steadily, in through your nose and out through your mouth as you recuperate, staring at the floor. Gingerly, Soonyoung hooks his hands under your arms and pulls you up so you’re sitting next to him on the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly when he catches the clouded look on your face. When you slowly look at him and nod with a dazed smile, Soonyoung just knows he’s in love. You look so happy, so eager to submit and he loves the way you trust him, loves the way you know he’s going to treasure you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your puffy lips as he stands up and walks over in front of the bed where his dresser is.

You frown at the idea of him being away from you. “Need it no-o-ow, Soonie,” you drawl out, standing up and making your way to Soonyoung, reaching out to place your palm against the hard muscle of his back. You run your hand over him, and for a few moments, he lets you.

You can feel the twitch of each hard earned, firm muscle as he moves around through his desk space, and you silently wonder what it’ll feel like to dig your nails into his back in another heated moment. Fuck, you’re so down bad.

“You’re so greedy,” Soonyoung mutters, finally turning around to grab your wrists. On one side, you feel something cool and soft press against your skin, and glancing down, you recognize it as the feeling of black satin against your arm. “I told you to sit down, didn’t I?”

You frown, but oblige anyways, shuffling over to the middle of the bed, sitting down neatly on your knees as Soonyoung stands in front of you by the edge. He’s holding the ribbon in both hands now, the silk taut as he holds it up to your head.

“You okay with this?” he asks, pressing the silk right up against your eyes that have since fluttered shut, but he doesn’t quite tie it just yet. You inhale deeply for a second and then nod. “Words princess. I need words.”

“Yes,” you comply. “I’m okay.”

As soon as you’ve given him the green light, he’s bringing the two ends of the silk behind your head and tying it into a tight knot. “Is it comfortable?” he asks sincerely, waving a hand in front of your face. “D’you see that?”

“Uhh, yes and no,” you respond, slightly confused and still getting used to not being able to see anything.

“Good,” he says to himself, and you feel the mattress dip, causing you to lose a bit of your balance, jutting your hands out to grab onto anything. Immediately, you feel Soonyoung’s hands on you, and your muscles lose their tension. “Relax. I’m right here.”

Those seem to be just the words you need to hear, because you’re sitting back down, sitting a bit more comfortably this time as you feel Soonyoung shift around on the mattress. This is Soonyoung, this is Soonyoung, you remind yourself, and he’ll always keep you safe.

“C’mere,” his thick voice breaks through your thoughts, and you flail around for a moment trying to trace his voice. There’s a hand on your shoulder soon, guiding you toward the direction of the headboard and you tentatively crawl over, yelling out in surprise when you quickly feel two hands wrap under your thighs and lift you up.

Your shock is soon replaced with a burning desire when Soonyoung finally places you on his lap, and you can feel his rock hard length pressing against your inner leg as you settle over his thighs. All you can hear for a moment is your sharp breaths, but then there’s a hard smack against your ass.

“Go on angel … you know what you want to do—what’re you waiting for?”

You want to curse Soonyoung right now, because how the hell d’he know? But then again, you don’t really care because here he is, egging you on.

So gingerly, you lift your hips over him and shuffle forward so that your stomach is pressed against his chest. You feel one of his hands find purchase on your waist while the other reaches between the dripping mess that starts to splay between your cores and positions his cock against your soaked folds.

And then he’s presses rough kisses into your neck and sliding his tongue over your collarbone, murmuring, “Go on princess, go on,” and you can fucking hear the own want in his strained voice. Soonyoung is just as far gone as you, but you don’t have the liberty to linger on that fact for more than a moment before your cunt takes hold of all your senses and you instinctively sink down on him.

The moan Soonyoung let’s out is deep, gruff, guttural, and has your walls instinctively clenching around him and your hazed frenzy. “Good girl,” he grunts as you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders.

Your head swings around for a few moments as your eyes well up with tears from the initial stretch, but soon Soonyoung’s soft words of praise are pulling you down to reality and reminding you that he’s right here, that this is happening, whispering sweet and filthy nothings into your ear as you adjust to having him inside you.

“See,” he croons, stroking your chin with his thumb as you slowly grind down on him, both of you letting out soft gasps at the feeling. “Being so good for me, princess,” he hums, and you can’t even see the expression on his face but you know he’s not finished. “Wonder what the boss is gonna think of this,” he chuckles under his breath.

Your fingers tighten on his shoulders at his words, hugging his head close as you anticipate what he’s about to say next, trying your best to keep your soft mewls to yourself. It’s hard—really hard—because Soonyoung is big and he’s jutting his hips upwards sharply but sporadically, making it impossible to tell when he’s going to be punching moans straight out of your lungs.

“So good. Being so good for me, but so bad for everyone else,” he whispers into your neck as you start to bounce your hips to meet his thrusts halfway.

“Fuck,” you moan, both from the way he’s battering your inside, reaching so deep you don’t even know how he’s fit.

And Soonyoung doesn’t stop there, at least not with his words. “Sneaking out—” He snaps up harshly, his fat tip pressing against spots inside your cunt that have you writhing into him. “—Lying to your dad—” He continues to punctuate himself with more rough, emphasizing thrusts. “—Going out unattended—Breaking the rules—” He grunts out especially loudly at the last one, burying his head into your beck from the pleasure that radiates you both. “But you won’t do that to me, right princess? G’na be my good girl, right?”

“A-always,” you stutter out through strangled gasps for air as your body lurches around from the deep pounding of his hips. You’re so close—fuck it, you’re nearly there, and you pulse around him, digging your face into his hair from above as you try your best to swivel your hips but then, it all comes to a halt.

“Wha—what?!” you nearly shriek when he grips your hips so tightly that you both still, and suddenly the knot that’s been tying so carefully at the base of your stomach is unraveling and not in the way that you’d like. Your orgasm ebbs away into some far distance that you can’t reach, especially not in the frantic state you’re in after having lost just what might have been the best high of your life. “Why would you do that?”

Soonyoung watches your pained expression from below with the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, quirking an eyebrow at your accusing questions. He presses a hand down on your stomach when you try to buck upwards for some—any—sort of relief. “You already came once. You didn’t think you’d get the second that easily, did you?”

Any snarky remark you’d be able to come up with withers away and all you’re left with is a big fat frown. “I—” you stutter in short breaths before huffing out, “I was s’close.”

“I know princess. But you can be good, right? Good for me?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with the back of his hand before tugging at the silk, letting the blindfold fall from your eyes and land on his abdomen. Your eyebrows are furrowed in a way that Soonyoung can only describe as cute, and from beneath you, he brings his palm down on your ass harshly, the sound of the smack resonating through his room.

As you blink your eyes into comfort, adjusting to the dim light, Soonyoung lifts his hip, causing his length to shift deeper inside of you, and you lurch forward at the sensation of him kissing your cervix.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, eyes pressed closed tightly as he steadies your hips with his hands and in one swift movement, flips you both over so your back is to the mattress and he hovers on top of you.

You’re overwhelmed with it all—being deprived of your vision for so long and now you get to take it all in—the beads of sweat rolling down Soonyoung’s pretty peaks and valleys of abs, his dark hair splayed all over the face, flush cheeks and furrowed eyebrows as he focuses his vision on where his cock meets your cunt—fuck.

“You wanna cum?” he grunts in your ear, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eye as he draws his hips back, slamming back into your sloppy cunt. Then he brings his lips right by the shell of your ear and in a hoarse, mangled whisper, he demands, “Beg for it.”

And beg you do.

You wrap your legs around Soonyoung’s waist and dig crescent moons into his shoulders, draw pretty red lines into his back and you sob into the sheets, into his shoulder. And your walls hug him in again and again and let him whisper filthy words into your ears until you can’t even comprehend the depraved images he’s drawing into your head.

Ecstasy courses through your veins and your body knows nothing other than the enigma that is Kwon Soonyoung who pushes you so far, until you’re breaking beneath him—a wailing mess as you tell him how good it all feels, how his fat cock batters your cunt so well that you can do nothing other than choke out sweet ‘thank you’s and hoarse, ‘please’s.

And he makes you work for it, just like he promised, urging you to beg just a little more, swiveling his thrusts so that each stroke hits all your sweet spots, finally giving in when he mutters into your neck, “Let go princess, let go.”

And when you finally feel every string that’s been so meticulously woven together, teetering at the edge of breaking for ages, you let it all snap. Crying into his skin as you let him fuck you into an orgasm, hitting you harder than you could even imagine as every muscle goes limp and all you know is Kwon Soonyoung is here next to you, and he here to stay, because after a few more pumps his hot cum is filling you to the brim and more.

Soonyoung kisses you like he could swallow you whole. Like he could bathe in nothing but your arms and be the happiest man alive.

It’s the realization that hits you when he collapses over you, the smell of sweat and sex consuming you as your mouths connect in a maniac passion. More. It’s always more with Soonyoiung. He’ll protect you and more. He’ll hold you and more.Stroking the curve of your hips gently, you know—he’s going to love you and more.

a/n. first part of new rules is done, three more to go! chan will most likely be next, so stay tuned hehe! i hope u all enjoyed :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @whippedforjihoon @xiaoting999  @hipsdofangirl @valenhui @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @seokchannieworld @yunjinified @dnylwoo @nishloves @woozarts @etherealyoungk (strikethrough could not be tagged) join here!

[sunnebeam]

in the darkest little paradise.

A 'DARKEST LITTLE PARADISE' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc it's fun to fantasize about in fictional situations but please use protection irl), small mentions of mafia shit (again), sex work

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: yet another smut drabble that's actually just a buildup for a whole ass wip! enjoy

— prev: (none) | next: and all the pieces fall

You're not much of a crybaby, not when life has a way of toughening you up.

But right now, with your legs high up in the sky as you lay on your back, your skin reveling in the soft velvet of the sheets, you blubber incoherently with uncontrollable tears streaming down your face.

The reason for your tears is wearing a smug look as he looks down at your pitiful, crying form.

"Why are you crying, princess?"

His thumb never leaves your clit just as his cock never leaves your warm, wet heat. But he doesn't move.

"Yoongi—"

"Yeah? What do you want?"

He's ruthless, rubbing circles on your sensitive nub but remaining otherwise motionless while he's balls deep inside you.

You hate crying. You hate pleading, as well. But Yoongi singlehandedly makes you do both.

After all, Min Yoongi owns the streets of Daegu. It should be a no-brainer that he owns your body, too.

He loves you like this, loves when your tough facade breaks just for him, loves when you whine and beg and plead to him, loves when you fall apart because of him.

"Yoongi," you whimper when he twitches inside you, "move."

If someone else tries ordering him around, they'd lose a limb.

But here you are, your pleas commanding him to fold to your every whim, your moans and lewd sounds spurring him to give you what you want.

And he does.

Yoongi starts off slow, knowing just how much you love the buildup despite your whining. He gathers a generous amount of spit in his mouth and lets it drop on your waiting cunt, groaning when he observes the mix of juices pooling between your spread legs where the two of you are joined.

"I've spoiled you too much," he teases, his hips starting to pick up a faster pace. "Bossing me around. Never saying please."

You're too fucked out to respond and it's not like he expects you to, anyway. Not when he starts jackhammering into you just the way you like it, and he begins to feel the fluttering of your walls.

"Yoongi," you sob, and as if to appease him, you chant, "please, please, please—"

And then you fall.

Yoongi loves it when you climax. You thrash around, hands gripping anything you can reach – the sheets, the bed posts, your hair, your tits. There's a beautiful vulnerability to the sight, a stark contrast to the tough, closed-off act you normally put on.

In truth, the both of you are closed-off people. But right here, with your cunt squeezing the life out of his dick, with your naked bodies connected in the most intimate of ways, he allows himself the same moment of vulnerability.

He falls. He reaches his peak and spills inside you, leaning down and groaning into your neck as you wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace.

Anyone looking at the two of you right now would think you're two lovers basking in the afterglow.

In another world, maybe. But in this dark little paradise, you can only wish.

Because he's Min Yoongi, the ruthless mob boss, the topdog of Daegu. And you're just a no-named prostitute, a whore, a nobody.

You know better than to dwell on it. So you suck it up, put on a face for him, and try to make the rest of his visit worth his while and worth his money.

After all, he's paying for you.

"Hey," he calls out just as the two of you are getting dressed. "Are you available tomorrow?"

"Oh, it's my day off tomor—"

"Not to work," he clarifies. "I mean, to go out."

Your eyebrows furrow.

"Out?" you repeat. "Out where?"

"To dinner."

You blink. "You want to take me out to dinner? Why?"

"Don't people usually go out for dinner to celebrate their birthdays?"

"My... birthday...? Wait, what?"

Yoongi just smirks. He then kisses your cheek before walking out the room with a quick, "I'll pick you up at seven," thrown over his shoulder.

You're dumbfounded. You're flustered. And truthfully, you're a bit excited. But most of all, you're confused.

Because how did Yoongi know tomorrow's your birthday?

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Five - Why

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.8K words

Series Masterlist

Carlos Sainz's pregnant wife sat in a room small enough to be considered a cell. It was incredibly dark inside of this cell, with the only source of light flickering overhead.

Y/N sat on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest. It had been three days and nobody had spoken to her. A faceless figure brought her food and water, but never spoke a word to her. She sat in that cell feeling grubby and grim.

Tears stained her cheeks, but she had long since stopped crying, with no tears left.

She was going to die in her. She and her baby were going to die.

On her fourth day in this grim cell, somebody approached. They walked over to Y/N, crouching down so that she could see him. The face she was met with was rugged and scarred, and at least fifty years old. He grinned a grim smile, his mouth missing a couple of teeth.

"Hello, Mrs Sainz," he said, his voice gruff, his accent British. He pressed his face to the bars of her cell and let out a laugh, a terrifying laugh.

She spat in his face. Her spit flew through the space between them, landing in his face.

His laughter halted for just a moment. But it started up just as soon as it had stopped and he wiped the spit away from his eyes. "And I thought you were supposed to be all meek and timid."

"A mothers instinct," Y/N said through a hiss.

His laugh got louder and he stood up straighter. Pulling out a camera he snapped a picture of Y/N as she scowled up at him. She was going to die in here, but she wasn't going down without a fight.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked him, her voice dry. "What have I done to deserve this?"

The man got back onto his knees in front of her. "Well, I suppose I can tell you. I will just be killing you anyway." Y/N's heart sank as he leaned against the wall opposite her. "I am owed a hell of a lot of money and you're going to help me get it."

She just stared at him, her mouth agape. "So, you kidnapped a pregnant woman, the pregnant wife of a mafia boss, because you want money?!" She cried. "My husband will find me. And he will kill you."

"Hang on now, pretty little thing." He had no right to call her that. If Carlos didn't kill this man, she certainly would. "You haven't heard the whole story."

A lump formed in her throat.

***

The feeling that settled over Carlos when he touched down in the Norris family private hangar was indescribable. Finally he'd be reunited with his wife, finally he'd be able to bring her home.

Carlos made his way to the Norris house, with Oscar in the passenger seat of the car. "I can't wait for her to see what we've done with the nursery," he said with a beaming smile. Oscar had never quite seen him grin like this. It was infectious, too.

It was maybe 6.30 in the morning when Carlos arrived at the Norris house. Lando wasn't awake yet and there had just been a change of shift of those watching over the house.

Carlos looked up at the window that he knew to be in Y/N's room. His wife, his pretty little wife. Soon she'd be by his side.

He knocked on the door and a very tired Norris pulled open the door. "Oh," he said upon seeing his brother in law, who appeared to be a lot more awake and coherent than he was.

Lando let Carlos into the house. "Do you want some coffee or something?" He asked, shutting the door behind Oscar as he walked in.

Those two greeted each other with a handshake. Carlos knew they were friends, but he didn't quite realise they were that close.

Carlos shook his head. "I'd just like to see my wife, please," he said, standing by the stairs.

Nodding his head, Lando began climbing the stairs. "I'll go and get her," he said, as if telling Carlos was an afterthought. God, he was tired. Unbelievably so.

Maybe ten minutes later Lando was making his way back down the stairs, running this time, his face as white as a sheet. "She's gone," he said quickly, definitely more awake this time.

Carlos was red with fury as he gripped Lando's pyjamas and held him up against the wall. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He roared. "SHE'S GONE AND IT'S BECAUSE OF YOU!"

What the two of them failed to notice was Oscar as he ran around the house, searching for his missing best friend. He searched her favourite spots, but she was nowhere to be seen. He checked through the whole house while Carlos screamed at Lando.

"Hey!" Oscar shouted as he walked back towards the two of them.

Carlos quickly dropped Lando. His hands were still balled up in a fist as he turned towards Oscar. "What?" He barked, his expression furious. There was a time where Oscar would have been terrified of him, but now he understood. He got why Carlos was as seething as he was.

"She's not in the house. What do we do now?"

But it was Lando who told them their grim reality. "We have to wait," he said. I can put my men on it, but there's nothing we can do until we have some sort of clue or something."

As uncomfortable as it was, the boys did just that. They waited.

***

"It was your mother who employed me originally," the man said, still wearing that grim smile. Y/N couldn't look at him, but she couldn't help but listen.

Her mother? Hire him? What would her mother want with a man like him?

But he was going to tell her just that. "There was somebody your mother wanted to get rid of, and it was my job to do just that."

"So, you're a hitman," Y/N said, but the man held his finger to his lips, effectively silencing her.

"Yes, I am a hitman. And your mother took out a hit on somebody. See, she was a part of the Mansell family as a young girl. The L/N's worked for the Mansells for years, but they never amounted to much. So, she wanted a bit of the high life. And she was going to do anything to get it.

"Norris had just had his first child and his power was raising. He was set to be the most powerful head of family in the United Kingdom. This, of course, was before we knew about Hamilton. Norris had a new baby and a wife he loved very much.

"Your mother knew what she needed to do. She needed to get rid of Norris's wife."

Y/N couldn't stop herself from gasping. Her mother wouldn't have somebody killed, would she? She had always been harsh, but she wasn't deadly. Her mother wasn't a killer.

"So, your mother hired me to take care of her little problem. I got rid of the first Mrs Norris, doing so in a way that made it took like an accident. That was my speciality, making things look like an accident. Norris never suspected a thing.

"He grieved tremendously. He was the head of family, he had an infant son and he had just lost his wife. Norris really struggled.

"So, your mother put herself in the right place at the right time. She caught Norris's eye and, three years later, you were born," he said. The smile he still wore made her shiver.

"I needed payment. It was a hell of a lot of money and I had done my part. Your mother owed me. Of course, all of her money was actually her husbands, and he didn't have a lot of it. She paid me in small instalments, but it wasn't enough. I am still owed close to a million.

"And then your mother died. She died and there was nobody to pay me. I watched you closely, you know. I watched you carefully. Where your father and brother tried their best to keep you a secret, I knew everything about you.

"I watched you the day Sainz and his boy had dinner with you. I followed you to Spain and watched your wedding. I watched through your window as Sainz's boy had his way with you on your first night of being married."

Tears sprang to her eyes. It wasn't something she wanted to be reminded of. That wasn't her Carlos, wasn't the man she was in love with.

"Your husband is a very wealthy man," said the man. "I realised that, through you, I could get the money I was owed. So, I hatched a plan. I got a team together and we raided every head of family, trying to get the information we need and opportunities for any more money.

"When we raided your husbands house, we were planning to take you. But we were stopped by fucking Sainz. He got in the way and gave you two time to escape. But we got what we needed and we got out. We knew we'd get to you another time.

"It was hard to locate your safehouse. But we followed that Australian boy and he led us right to you. But then your husband got you away. We spent two weeks looking for you, were about to give up hope, when Verstappen's son called your brother. Suddenly we knew where you were."

When Y/N let out a sob, the man stood up straighter and pulled out his camera. He pointed it right at his face and began talking. "Hello, Sainz. I believe I have something that belongs to you."

***

Carlos spent four days at the Norris house. But, to him, it might as well been four months.

On the fourth day, his phone buzzed.

Well, it had been buzzing on and off with the same thing since he'd first discovered Y/N was missing. Every notification he got was somebody saying that they hadn't found her. There had been a couple of times when he'd thrown his phone, he'd always managed to throw it at the sofa opposite.

This time, though, was different. This time the notification was from somebody he didn't know.

Carlos opened it, opened the video that had been sent to him.

It was hard to make out what he was seeing at first, the video too dark, the person not in focus. But then the person holding the camera adjusted it and the view of the person became clearer.

Carlos's eyes went wide.

"Hello, Sainz. I believe I have something that belongs to you."

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[colourstreakgryffin]

hii! could u write headcanons of Alastor x Male (preferly) Overlord Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is rough? and since Alastor loves dancing and singing, maybe Reader is shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings?

You know what! I am gonna kill two birds with one stone and make us an Ink Demon! Overlord. So, we’re basically like Baby Bendy from the second BATIM game. Don’t know it? Look it up. One side is harmless and adorable and the other side is monstrous and vicious— however. Here, it’ll just be causal demon form than evil demonic Ink Demon form! Anyway. Let’s goooo. I’ve been doing a lot of GN for Alastor, this time we got a man! I don’t know if you want us to be romantic, I am just gonna guess platonic

Alastor- Follow Me

You look pretty cute and friendly. Black and white, cartoony, with adorable stereotypical demon features like arch-like horns and a long-thin tipped tail. Most importantly, your entire body is made of ink. Only your clothing is touchable, otherwise, your ‘skin’ is so soft, liquidity and stains anything it touches. For that reason and one more, you harden yourself up and avoid conversation

Alastor, the Radio Demon, is not a fan of making friends with men. He prefers women, they are just easier to talk to. However, you’re not as vile and unlikeable as most men with your personality is. You’re the strict, stern, responsible one of the Overlords, ordering the other Overlords to pay attention to Camilla Carmine

Alastor doesn’t know why but he finds you interesting

Your uncontrollable Ink Demon side is extremely violent and merciless so you had to develop a thick shell, in order to make sure nothing can make it trigger at random. It’s too much of a risk, hence why you behave in the way you do. It’s a self-defence mechanism and it’s a protection method to everybody else around too

Alastor doesn’t even care that you’re untouchable. He will touch you anyway, getting annoyed by the black ink forming your body in a in-fact, solid fashion, getting onto his sleeves or hand but he ignores it to converse with you

Alastor also ignores the gruff warnings you give out when he approaches you. That you’re dangerous and that the Ink Beast will try rip him to pieces if it’s let out. If anybody thinks Alastor would be scared of the Ink Demon, they have another thing coming. He’d actually like to face off this Ink Beast one day

It looks like, to every other Overlord, that Alastor is talking to a brick wall when he talks to you. Since you’re not responding not even looking at him, just focusing on Camilla and her statements with the most bland and rough expression, not a single hint of a grin. You’re the opposite of Alastor and yet, he’d like to befriend you

Alastor keeps trying and trying without even halting. He’s quite the persistent man and when he wants to befriend somebody, he won’t stop until he gets what he desires and at this moment, it’s to make friends with you, rather you shut him down and bark at him to stay away

Alastor finds your overall appearance cute. You look like you were drawn for a kids cartoon in the early 19th century. Possibly around his own time of the 1920s-1930s. You’re bendy and mendable, you defy all laws of logic and have cartoon physics on your side. You’re like if a kids cartoon demon tried to be a big bad mafia boss and ruled a part of Hell itself, and he isn’t filtered when it comes to this opinion. He straight up tells you all that

Alastor, overtime, ends up succeeding like the little I don’t take no for a answer brat he is in getting you to agree in joining him out to the Hazbin Hotel and accompanying him for a nice little tour. Throughout the tour, he notices that some music in the Lobby is blasting and without even hesitating, he drags you over to join him into a dance

“Come, my dear sir. Let us dance this tension away!” Alastor chimes out rather excited, immediately leading you into a half-messy dance performance with him as the head. You just stumble along, slightly gritting your fangs in discomfort but it won’t be acknowledged by Alastor in the slightest. All he cares about is putting a smile on your face

Alastor laughs warmly as you attempt to try keep up with him during this dance he had dragged you into. You’re clearly quite timid, not enjoying the way the Deer Overlord dances and sings but you either don’t care enough to shut him up or you are too kind to try shut him up

Alastor likes to tease you about your behaviour and your looks. He isn’t frightened or intimidated at all by your beast side and you’re too colourless and squishy to be scary, he does actually view you as a wonderful friend. Even whilst you’re cold and dismissive, he can get you to acknowledge him and be polite to him so it’s a win for Alastor in the end

It’s been a long time since Alastor got a male friend so he can be more crude and snarky with you, without actually needing to be sensitive, like with his women friends

“My good fellow. You don’t need to act so broody. Smile now, you’re safe and whatever you are worried about, it’s not going to do anything to you or me or anybody in this Hotel”

[blarshwritezz]

Yanderr mafia boss x male reader prisoner, You are a rival of the mafia boss and your group was defeated by his group, thus becoming his prisoner.

Little did you know, he had lust for you and he decides that you will succumb to his desires whether you want to or not.

A new mafia boss coming right up! But no more new mafia bosses after this, guys. I know they're hot, but my masterlist will suffer also, changing it to leader to avoid confusion hope that's okay

Yandere Mafia Leader x Prisoner Reader

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon

How long has it been? For how many days have you been held captive here? You couldn't keep track. There weren't any windows or other ways to tell time in your damp cell.

You had to wonder if your comrades were doing alright. You weren't too close to most of them, but you were still worried. You hoped whatever they were going through wasn't much worse than what you were.

The leader of this mafia kept a constant watch on you. There was a single camera in your cell, which really wasn't strange, but you could often hear him right outside your door. He'd often come in and watch you "sleeping".

That was one of the more difficult things to do here; fall asleep. You really didn't struggle this much usually, but between the environment and the whole being watched thing, it wasn't easy.

You hoped you might finally get some rest tonight. Or...whatever time of day it was when you closed your eyes.

Your dreams almost came true...until they were crushed by the fact that you felt something choking you. You opened your eyes, taking only a few seconds to realize what was happening.

The leader was in here again, fucking your mouth! You tried to pull away, but he only gripped your hair and forced himself deeper down your throat.

He groaned as you gagged around his dick. It was almost enough to make him cum.

Oh who was he kidding? He didn't want to hold back. Not this time. With a few more thrusts, his seed was flowing down your throat.

He took both of your wrists in his hand as he pulled out, holding them tightly above your head. His free hand mover to roughly spread your legs apart.

"You're my new fuck toy, got that?" Without warning or preparation, he plunged into your ass with a pleasured groan. "I'll stop torturing you, long as you please me."

You didn't have a choice.

He was fucking you anyway, no care for how rough he was being. In fact, he seemed to like seeing you slightly in pain.

You couldn't get away, his grip on you was too tight. He smirked as you struggled, even though it was useless.

"Stop struggling so much or I'll just have to kill you, and fucking a corpse doesn't sound nearly as appealing."

He leaned down and started biting your neck, licking the blood clean as he did. He made sure the marks would be visible. You were his, everyone should know.

Despite knowing you shouldn't enjoy this, you couldn't stop the moans you made. You couldn't stop your cock from growing hard, twitching as it came closer to climax.

Finally, he slowed down, making you whine pathetically. "You want to cum? Think you deserve it? You just have to tell me you'll be mine. That your body belongs to me." He growled in your ear.

You couldn't! You refused, shaking your head.

"If you say so." He chuckled, pounding into you harder than before. Only to stop right as you were on the edge again.

And that became a cycle. He fucked you hard and stopped over and over until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. And of course, he couldn't be fair. While he denied you the right to cum over and over, he repeatedly filled your asshole with his seed. Over and over again until your insides were painted fully white.

All until you begged him for release. Saying anything for him to let you cum. Even that you and your body belonged to him.

"There's a good boy..." His hands released your now bruised legs and wrists, one moving to your nipple as the other made its way to your ass. In one swift motion, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers. They curled in you, hitting all the right spots.

As his hands worked wonders on you, he took your cock unto his mouth and sucked you off. Pathetic as it was, it didn't take very long before you came. He moaned, the sound vibrating around your cock as he swallowed your cum.

"There we go. Not so difficult, right? And you get to cum like that whenever I want for the rest of your life~"

I think that one was pretty decent! or at least, I really hope so

[dungeonpuppykai]

|| Liability ||

Summary: When you nearly compromise The Organization on a job because of your impulsiveness, your boss August Walker decides it's time for a demotion; since you clearly still have much training ahead of you.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own August Walker or any of the other Henry Cavill characters mentioned. This is a mature and morally gray story so browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Mafia Boss!August Walker | Hench(wo)man!You.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, m!dom, f!sub, the relationship is probably morally gray, slapping, throat fucking, power imbalance, pet names, hair pulling, deep throating, gun play, smut with plot (I am sorry I just couldn't stop), humiliation, degradation, camera play.

Note: Oh, my God! It's finally here, first Auggie fic go boom~ 

MASTERLIST

✟

"You're out, do not call again." You sighed into the phone and momentarily shut your eyes in frustration as you kept an eye out through the window of the dingy motel that you crouched next to, trying to stay one with the darkness of the room. 

"Boss…" It had taken you risking your life to buy a new sim card just to get him to pick up your call. "Come on, the whole thing would have gone south–"

"You have been told more times than can be counted to not take matters into your own hands" your form stiffened when you noticed a man from a rival gang casually stroll by the motel as he pretended to be a passerby. Fuck. As your eyes scanned the area you realized that you were slowly getting surrounded. "If anything goes against the plans it is protocol for the team to regroup and–"

"Boss… The Angels…" Had it not been August on the line, you would have masked the panic in your voice with not much effort or hesitation. "T- They're here…" There was a brief silence.

And then;

"That's your problem now, Y/n" your throat tightened when he did not use your gang alias. "I told you" there was shuffling on his side. Sweat broke out on your skin. That meant he was done with the conversation. "You're out." 

The line went dead.

Your tongue felt swollen as you glanced at the briefcase you had put everything on the line for. 

Just to lose anyways. 

Yes, alright. Maybe you had ignored Marshall's order to abort the mission and fought off Shaw because Kent had been incompetent enough to mess up hacking the target car's engine in time. And yes, maybe you had risked exposure by following the vehicle. But the fact of the matter was, no one had died and the asset was recovered all the same. The mask that you wore on missions had ensured the protection of your identity and though anyone from your line of work could tell it was Walker's notorious Wraith, no identifiable features meant no evidence.

But no. 

How could things ever end that easily? 

Solo being the asshole that he was just had to rat about the entire ordeal to Walker. 

Okay sure, maybe you had to shake off cops because one of the men inside the car had noticed you following them. And maybe you had had to wait for the streets to cool off for the rest of the day but that did not mean you had betrayed them by running away with the asset or something! 

Even if you had gotten caught -which you never did; hence your alias-, your boss should have known that you would sooner die tortured in a shithole slammer cell than rat.

You bit your tongue as you tossed the phone on the table after breaking the sim card, watching the inevitable unfold before you with vigilant eyes that stung from the moisture accumulating behind them as you readied what little weapons that you had on hand. 

The growing tightness in your throat was tugging at the back of your oral muscle and your jaw was aching from the strength it took you not to cave into emotion. But you held your nose high and snorted at the rivals– enemies before rolling your moist eyes at them. You could not help but critique them even then because if they were trying to blend in, they were frankly doing a shit job. 

"Of course" you snickered as you got up and went to stash the briefcase in the best spot you could find. 

The Diablos had teamed up with The Angels and the irony of that was not lost on you. 

So it took the State's top two gangs -that were arch rivals under usual circumstances- to bring The Wraith down, huh?

Being young and impulsive as you were, you had pissed all the wrong people off under August's wing.  You had earned it through your knack for casual brutality which was so devastating and sickening in nature that it seemed something innate for you. 

But now that the affiliation was gone, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of the once mighty Wraith. 

You burst into a cold chuckle again. 

All these men just to try to take down one girl, huh?

Crouching behind the bed with your gun aimed at the door after you had successfully hidden the cause of your demise in the most secure spot you could find -not wanting your foes to succeed even now-, you sucked in an icy breath and braced yourself for what was coming. "Here goes" you whispered to yourself as you pushed your airpods in your ears and blasted your music through them probably one last time. 

For if these were the last minutes of your life, you wanted to go out guns blazing with your favorite tunes blocking the ugly out.

That, and the emotions that were trying to dominate your mind and crawl down your eyes in your body's attempt to deal with the overwhelming sentiments surging through your body like electricity. 

No. 

August Walker's Wraith didn't do emotions– 

Wait. 

Fuck. 

You bit your tongue as you cussed at yourself. You did not belong to anyone. 

Especially not an asshole who had the audacity to doubt your intentions even after you had submitted to him everything you had had to offer. 

Service, body, mind, soul… heart. 

Your true drive behind striving to always get the job done was only to please him. It had been for a long time at this point. And so yes, you sometimes resorted to undesirable, disobedient means to achieve the goal but it was all only to make him happy. 

Richer. 

Contrary to the popular belief which had been spread around The Organization by Solo, you did not do it to move up the hierarchy. At least, not anymore. Sure, ambition had been your initial motivation before everything but nothing in the world mattered except for Master anymore. 

… The same Master that had abandoned you when you needed him most.

A humorless snicker escaped you at the thought and you couldn't help but shake your head. At the end, you were just like all those foolish girls that had come before you in different shapes and forms, belonging to different times and contexts; discarded cold and teary eyed at a crossroads for anyone willing in the end.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts, eyes focused on the door but peripherals ignorant to your surroundings; the flashes bouncing off the windows and the smoke of dust and gas permeating the air outside. 

You lost track of the minutes and songs that passed in mere fleeting moments to you as you forced yourself to recall basically everything despite the agony that you felt. You deserved the torture. A reflection on your entire life and how futile it had turned out to be in the end was important. It was only fair.

A man had been your undoing, this sentence wasn't enough. But it was all you knew in the moment. 

You were so completely focused on denying yourself any tears that you failed to take notice of a member of The Angels slamming into the glass of one of the windows as he was obliterated with some 7mm bullets.

It was only when the door shook by getting kicked that your heart and body jumped alike; pulling you back to the present, your heart strings tugging. Your hand tightened around your weapon. This is it. Clenching your jaw tight, you stabilized your breathing and waited for the enemy to kick the door in. The thought of just how pathetically you were cornered made you snicker as you shook your head.

Only, when the door swung free and you went to press the trigger did your chuckle die in your throat. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Your heart weighed down in your chest until it was too much for your chest to hold and it let the organ fall into your stomach. 

Your breaths tightened.

The strength from your lungs drained.

Your fingers yanked the melodies away from your ears faster than you could register. 

Almost as though your body was suddenly on autopilot.

"B- Boss…?" 

The silhouette of a seething August blocked the doorway, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each pant of his breaths as his lungs churned. When his fingers roughly clawed at the switchboard to turn the lights on, his dark, glossy eyes came into your view before the rest of him did. 

The man was covered in blood as his pistol that held a metallic hue glinted in one of his hands. If you didn't know any better you would have said it seemed as though brief relief washed over his otherwise furious face when his bulging eyes finally located you in the room. Though his face instantly hardened of any emotion the moment it happened. His jaw clenched tighter as his eyebrows drew apart from each other, the cold blue of his eyes that were livid with chaos somewhat calming down while you gaped at him in shock.

The Boss never came down to the field himself. 

You had heard it had been a long time since he had last done it.

… All you had asked was for some backup.

What were you to make of this?

How–

"Kneel" oh.

But Master could. 

And he had. 

A ghost of a smile played on your lips as you rose and walked over to the middle of the room quicker than you could think, eyes wide and glassy. Your weapon slipped through your fingers the same time as when you collapsed on your knees in front of him; awaiting his next command with all the self-respect and ego you had conjured up in the last few minutes long forgotten. 

Nothing else mattered anymore. 

For Master was here.

There was no need for you to think anymore.

All that needed to be done now was to sit back and obey without question. 

August calmly walked over to you and stopped when he was towering over you, letting out an intentionally exaggerated sigh as he propped the tip of his weapon under your chin. "Liability" he had called you that the day Gus -your mentor and guardian figure in the whole organization- had finally presented you to him; The Boss, after months of trials. 

Your bottom lip wobbled with all that was cycloning through your head but you dared not speak. 

He had a way of making you feel so small and vulnerable it melted away your resolve every time.  

"Impulsive" the back of August's free hand that was covered in splatters of blood struck across your face and your head lolled to the side. "Stubborn" now your other cheek was caught in his fingers and you let your face swing free in the direction of the slap. Master was the only man who could treat you that way and you were nothing to deny him of his wishes. 

The barrel of his gun brought your chin back to the center again. "Headstrong" as another strike caused your face to sway in the same humiliating way, the knowledge that were he some other man you would have torn your revenge for treating you like this out of him sent tremors down your abdomen. 

You could but you wouldn't. 

Because it was August; the sole proprietor of your entire existence. 

The tip of his Sig Sauer brought you back in idle position again. "Non-compliant" as you received another harsh strike, you bit back your rising ire for though you submitted to him wholeheartedly, getting pushed around had never been your forte. 

But Master can do whatever he wants, you're his for treating however he desires. 

He was worthy of being worshiped.

Maybe he was the only man who deserved such service. 

And perhaps that was the reason why your hips clenched as hard as they did each time he treated you like you were nothing but part of the dirt under his shoe.

Like right now.

August centered you again and your insides threatened to boil over when you noticed that the broken door was open wide as it swayed with the gentle breeze of the night, the gap helping the guys to a perfect view of the inside of the room. 

You. 

And Master.

Whilst Syverson and Phillips had the decency -the latter probably only because you were a daughter figure to him- to look away, Solo, Shaw and Kent watched on shamelessly as they stood clutching their rifles, ready to shoot down any potential threat. 

"Disobedient" as your head lolled aside again, you felt your cheek sting just a bit harder than the other one due to the way your teeth dug in it, the gazes from outside only making it all the more worse. 

Your eyes traveled back to Master's darker, much stern ones. Fuck. You felt hot slick pool in your underwear. "Amateur" a whimper escaped you as the realization that the others could see you so vulnerable and submissive pricked the skin of your ears. "Overconfident" besides, this very personal dynamic you shared with your boss was private and none of your colleagues knew about it. So either August was ignorant of the door or he was so serious about whatever he was about to do to you, he didn't care. 

Although, since the man had an extremely vigilant nature, you doubted the former was the case. 

Which only left you with the latter conclusion… 

This time around, your face was recentered -you were never to do that yourself unless ordered to do so- not with the Sauer but with a harsh grip on your hair. "Seems to me you were not trained well enough to know your place, little girl" he had bent down to put his face in close proximity to yours, pulling you up by the grip he had on your head to meet him halfway.

Your lips fell agape as your knees burned, shaking just a little as you tried to triumph the induced Parkinson's. It was not easy to make the Wraith tremble. But championing impossibilities had always been August Walker's specialty. "Y- Yes, Master…" Cold, shaky breaths left you as you trembled under his glare. Your loins ignited to life and you couldn't help but subconsciously rock your hips against empty air. "P- Please t- teach me, Master…" You risked speaking out of turn, determined to win him back no matter what for you no longer remembered how it was like to function without him.

Without the sense of sanity and balance his commands created for you. 

And you were not willing to relearn it.

Ever. 

"Hm" August mused with obvious sarcasm. "Or," he let go of your hair and stood back up to his full height, raising the gun before pressing the cold, bloody tip to your forehead, "I could save us all a whole lot of time and just put you out of everyone's misery." His thumb moved to click the safety off, the sound flipping your stomach in the most vile of ways, none of which were concern for your wellbeing. 

"Whatever you deem fit, Master" keeping your eyes trained on him, you went on a limb and slowly moved to crane your head backwards and let the barrel crown trail between your eyebrows and down your nose. "Thank you, Master" the silent yet bright rage in his cold blue orbs caused for a shiver to run down your spine. 

Suddenly, the certainty that you were now sure to survive the night that had kindled after his arrival was extinguished just like that.

And yet, you parted your lips when the beginning of the barrel reached your mouth, sheathing it in your oral cavity and between your cheeks, the length causing them to hollow as you looked up at him. The metallic taste of the blood spatters that the Sauer was covered in caused your taste buds to sting as it further invaded your balmy cavern and the apex scratched against your throat. You tried not to cough, breathing through the nose as your hips helplessly rocked again with a mind of their own, the discomfort in the back of your mouth bringing tears to your eyes.

You were too far gone for this man. 

And there was no rationalizing or denying it.

"Now that's more like the pet I raised" your pussy clenched and you whined softly, wanting nothing more for the still seething man to take you against every surface available in the most depraved of ways. Each one that you were familiar with. "Remembering your place already, aren't you?" His now eased up breathing slowly started to clamber again as he reached for his fly with his free hand, pistoning the weapon in and out of your mouth to demonstrate how his cock was about to defile your mouth. Though you were to never move a single muscle out of turn, you could not help but bob your head along the Sauer in a horizontal fashion while your holes clenched again. 

You had come too close today. 

It could never happen again… if your boss would even allow there to be another time, that was. 

But for now, there were amends that needed making.

"Now then, what do we say?" August nearly slithered as he pulled the Sauer out of your mouth but didn't holster it, instead letting it dangle by one hand whilst the other tangled in your hair to pull you closer to his cock. 

"Want you in me, Master…" You resisted the urge to just open your mouth and move up on it.

You had angered him enough for a while. 

"Want me?" You cowered at his faux amusement that came out as a growl due to how enraged he was. 

"N- No…"

"No?" You gulped to yourself before trying again.  

"No–" you shook your head in panic, raking your mind to come up with an appropriate response. "I- I mean… N- Need you, Master…" Yes, that was certainly better. "Please…" Your bottom lip quivered as your words wavered with a pleading wanton in them. "N- Need you."

"And where do you need me?" The lack of contempt in his manner indicated that you were on the right track. Or at least somewhere near it.

"M- Mouth, M- Master…" Your nails dug into your thighs as you tried your best to hold back from touching him.

Disobedient girls didn't deserve to touch their Masters.

"And why do you need me in your mouth?" He let go of your hair to pump his monstrous girth a couple times as he stroked your cheek with the barrel of the Sauer. 

"T- To fuck my face, Master." You answered honestly, completely ignorant of how shocked Kent was at what was unfolding. 

Usually you were much more vigilant than this single minded mess you had become, but this was just the effect August had on you. 

"Is that right?" A twisted smirk made its way on his face. "And why do you need me to do such a humiliating thing to you, little girl?" You hadn't realized that your heart was thumping until its erratic beating began to put strain on your chest. 

"To be reminded of my place, Master." That seemed to finally create at least a semblance of satisfaction and your Master allowed you the tip of his cock at last. 

"And where is your place?" He waited patiently even though his body was clearly having a hard time holding back now that your warm lips circled his leaking tip. 

"Under you" you spoke through a mouthful of dick. "On my knees" you tried to kiss it to show your devotion but the puckering of your lips caused a loud suckling sound. His features twitched. "At your service, always" something else, a hungry dark, now mixed in with the bright lividness of his cold blue eyes and he grunted before pulling you closer by your hair, trailing the gun all the way down to your chest now. 

"That's right" he let go of your hair to slap your cheek before resuming his hold on the strands, grunting at the way his cock felt the vibration of his own palm from when he had struck you. "And you better remember that the next time you want to break protocol" your eyes widened in realization and hope flashed in your eyes. 

A chance. 

You tried to respond but his cock was too far into your mouth for you to be able to let out a coherent answer. Ao you chose to hum and unintentionally sent waves of pleasure all the way down to his balls. Well, all's well that ends well, right? You began to bob your head up and down with a newfound optimism, peeking up at his humongous form with pure adoration in your eyes. 

August cursed under his breath at the sight of you so submissive and comfortable in your humility. The sheer love and devotion in your eyes as your warm cavity clung to his cock, the mass of your lashes fluttering each time your face slid all the way down his length and the way his tip brushed your gag reflex with each movement, the stubble on his crotch tickling your nose as you did, it was all too much for him to handle with civility. 

"Use your hands" so he finally allowed you what you had been craving for. You felt your pussy throb when his thick veins twitched against your grainy tongue. "Go ahead, show me what you are good for" his voice was gravelly as the Sauer slipped into the neckline of your shirt and he let you feel the cold metal against your skin. 

You gladly complied, moaning at the feeling of the weapon against you, hoisting yourself further upwards on your heels as you reached for his balls with one hand and palmed them generously. Your head rotated each time you moved in on his cock, other hand working fast to pump him each time you pulled back until you were only sucking on his tip. 

"Look at you" August hooked one foot against your knee and pushed it apart to create more distance between your legs. "Maybe you should retire as solely my toy for the rest of your days, huh?" Leaving the weapon hanging from your shirt and tucked tightly in your bra, the older man clicked the safety on before clasping his fist around your throat. "You're much better at it than the job, anyway" the corners of your shoulders jutted upwards when his cock finally breached your swallow tract and tears fell from your eyes at last in thick drops at last.

Glancing up at August with your bloodshot eyes, you darted your tongue out to trace as much the circumference of his ballsack as you possibly could. He cursed heavily. "Just like that… good girl" the back of your throat was warm and even more inviting, enveloping him in such a way that an imprint of his cock appeared on your delicate skin, the ridges grazing against August's palm that pressed against it. 

Your head was now dizzy due to the lack of air but you did not care as you unplugged your mouth just enough to wheeze in as much air as you possibly could, releasing a fat wad of hot spit down the intimidating length of his cock that you pumped messily with your hand. There was a dull ache in your scalp because of the taut grip that he had on your hair. Your lungs burned. Your ears were on the verge of melting along your brain. Your jaw ticked due to his size. Your throat stretched each time he violated its inner cavity. Your pussy throbbed for attention and your abdomen pulsated painfully.

But none of it mattered. 

So long as you got to satisfy your Master, everything was bearable.  

"Fucking hell" August groused as he stilled your head in one place to reach as low as he could possibly go down the back of your oral cavity, pistoning short-paced thrusts up and down the space to fuck his orgasm out. Your trembling hands gripped his knees as you felt a strain in your jaw due to how his sack was widening it, obediently licking and sucking at his balls to the best of your ability. 

Somewhere amidst the thrusting and swallowing, your windpipe catched a drop and you coughed, further intensifying the man's pleasure as the turbulence caused a mix of your spit and his cum to spray out of your nose before it trailed down to your lips. 

August fished his phone out of his jacket and quickly snapped a shot of your state. 

Hair disheveled, mouth full of cock, red eyes full of tears that stained your flush cheeks, thick strings of drool and his seed dripping down your chin. 

"Make yourself look pretty for me" he nodded at you with a brief glance to his cock and where it connected with you. 

The camera was still trained at you when you obediently pulled him out with a gag and cough while pumping the rest of his cum out and onto your face. The flash of the lenses nearly blinded you as you looked up in the video that he was recording now, your tongue and swollen lips glistening as you painted yourself pearlescent. 

"Now, what do we say?" August panted once you were done. 

"Thank you so much f- for giving me a chance a- and fucking my face, Master" your voice was hoarse and a near whisper as you forced it out through your worked out mouth, licking your lips to collect as much of him as possible. 

"That's fucking right" he ended the video by squeezing your cheeks in his grip until your cum covered features scrunched in the most humiliating way before he landed a last slap to your cheek. 

August fixed himself up professionally like he didn't just fuck your throat into oblivion and you submissively waited on your knees, awaiting his next command. After he was satisfied with his appearance, the man wiped his hands on your jacket before he took his gun out from between your boobs and holstered it. 

"Up" raising one of his hands above his head, he snapped his fingers and allowed you the privilege of leaning on one of his arms as you scrambled up to your feet. 

A very stunned Shaw was by his side within the next second, his ears a deep, almost embarrassed red. "Retrieve the asset" the younger male awkwardly looked at your obscene state as you wordlessly nodded in the direction of the briefcase stash. "Now," August's fingers snaked around your hair again as he glanced down at you, "let's get my estranged Wraith home" your head lolled in his direction as he began to walk towards one of the many sleek black SUVs parked outside. 

"You have been demoted" he informed you once you had both settled in the backseat of one of the vehicles. August thrusted his phone in your hand. It displayed the picture that he had taken just a few minutes ago. "We will begin right from the start; the basement" your heart dropped. Oh, fuck. You had only been down there once and it was not a place where August was pleasant in any sense. And your sadistic lover was never much agreeable in the affectionate sense anyways. You definitely still had a lot to atone for. "Keep looking at this picture. I don't want your eyes off it for a second" the menace in his tone made you gulp as the humiliating picture burnt its way into your eyesockets.

A few seconds passed before you felt August's hands slip around your ass but you dared not look up to express your wonder. "Now… about that weeping little pussy of yours…" Honestly, it was hard not to notice. The stain you had made for yourself was too dark and wide for anyone to miss.  

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Thots and reblogs are much appreciated <3

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[del-thetiredwriter]

Twisted wonderland mafia au? (Good luck while running away from mafia)

Introduction or something like that

Part 0.5 , part 1 , part 2 , part 3

Notes: If you liked it let me knew. I maybe do this an au.

Warnings: gn reader , be aware of my bad English, not really mentioned yandere traits

You looked at the time, you could only catch up with all of them if you started now. You were supposed to notify seven executives for the monthly meeting that evening.

Night Raven organization, also known as Night Raven mafia, one of the biggest organizations of the underground led by seven executives and boss Crowley. The organization was divided into seven divisions. Each department was managed by their own directors.

Heartslabyul

As you said, the Night Raven organization had seven divisions and directors. The first of these was the Heartslabyul division, which was responsible for the torture and the organization of the mafia . The head of this department was one of the executives , Riddle Rosehearts.

Riddle was a perfect fit for management. Strict, harsh, cruel. He showed no mercy towards those who broke the rules and traitors' heads.

Trey Clover is Riddle's right-hand man, his most trusted man. He was loved by all for his calm fatherly demeanor. No one who saw him walking down the street would believe that he was in the mafia, especially in the torture division Heartslabyul.

Cater Diamond was an entertaining type with his cheerful and fun personality. Although taking pictures and listening to music were among his hobbies, torturing traitors was the activity that amused him the most.

Ace Trappola is rookie of the year. He was a newcomer to the mafia. Even though he was 'good' at his job (the sadistic guy just likes to torture people so he's good at his job), this kid was really good at getting in trouble and getting others in trouble too. You don't remember how many times you rescued him from Riddle.

Deuce Spade rookie 2 . He joined the mafia at the same time as Ace . How come you didn't understand this kid in the mafia especially the torture division heartslabbyul?! He wasn’t really well versed in his business, but the boy really had a great respect for Riddle and Trey.

You knocked on the open door. Ignoring the tied mens staring at you with pity-eyed eyes on the ground, “Sorry for interrupting . I didn’t thought you would be in the middle of your work. Is Riddle-san here?" . “Oh Y/n-chan what a pleasant surprise. Sorry, I'm a little dirty,” Cater said with a smile. His white shirt was visibly soiled with the blood of those mens. "These?" ' you asked, pointing at the mens with your eyes. “They're not people to worry too much about. Just a few traitors, that's all." ' Trey said, appearing behind you.

"You're looking for Riddle, right? Those rookies, Ace and Deuce, seem to be in trouble again. They're in his office with Riddle right now. They are waiting to be saved by a savior angel.”

You laughed at what Trey said, but you should meet the other executives. “I'm sorry, but I don't think I can save them this time. I need to talk to other executives as well.”

"I see, it's for the monthly meeting, right?"

"Yes. I think Riddle has already prepared all the paperwork for the meeting.”

“You know him very well.”

“The meeting is in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm . I texted him but you remind him anyway. Then goodbye.”

Savanaclaw

The second division was Savanaclaw, which fought the power of the mafia and other organizations when necessary.

Leona Kingscholar is one of seven executives and head of this department. Usually he slept somewhere, unless he had any duties. His right-hand man, Ruggie, often took care of the documents he needed to deal with as a executive . You were one of the few people who knew how cunning Leona was, even though he was the power of the mafia, you knew very well how he analyzed his enemy and planned strategies before the battles.

Ruggie Bucci , Leona's right-hand man. Despite his weak appearance compared to the other members of Savanaclaw, he is respected by the members. He would take care of the department more than Leona. In wars, he usually stayed in the back line and took care of post-war cleaning. He was more concerned with the documents Leona had to deal with.

Jack Howl is a rookie who just joined Savanaclaw. With his strong build, he quickly adapted to Savanaclaw. Despite his stern appearance, Jack was very polite. Because of his character, Jack was among the people you couldn't understand why he joined the mafia. What was someone like him, who was boiling with a sense of justice, doing in the mafia?

The phone was busy for the tenth time. But you knew him, after a while he was going to get angry and answer, and he finally answered your call.

“Hi Leona-san this is Y/n speaking. How are you sir."

“Damn! What do you want, herbivore!” Leona shouted. There were shouts and gunfire from behind. Looks like he was in a fight again.

“Excuse me for bothering you in the middle of your work, but I was supposed to inform you that you have to come to the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm for the monthly meeting. The boss wants all seven of the seven executives.”

No response, just shouting.

“Leona-san?”

“Y/n-shii this is Ruggie. Leona-san is busy right now but he heard you. Don't worry, I'll bring him to the meeting. But in return for this favor buy me a meal.”

“Thank you Ruggie-san. I’m counting on you ."

Octavinelle

The third division was Octavinelle, which controlled the money flow of the mafia . At the head of this department was Azul Ashengrotto, one of the seven managers.

Azul Ashengrotto was the type of person who could bargain with the devil with his quick wit. In addition to being a well-known businessman in the business world, he was also a well-known casino owner in the underground world. Usually, those in financial difficulties would be deceived by his smile and beggar and borrow money from him and then become his slaves because they could not pay the debt.

Jade and Floyd Leech are twins who Azul trusts more than anyone else, often doing the dirty work. They had jobs such as finding those who did not pay their debts and threatening them. Floyd was the emotional, active of the twins. He liked to play with things that caught his attention. His twin, Jade, was the same as his brother , both in appearance and character. The only difference was that unlike Floyd, Jade was calmer.

You opened the door and entered the stylish bar. Although it was noon, the bar, which was always crowded with customers, was empty.

“Oh the shrimpy has arrived~” Floyd jumped at you.

“Hello Y/n, how can we help you at the Mounstro Lounge?” Jade greeted.

“Hi Jade and Floyd. I came to see Azul-san. Are they here?"

“Ah Azul is currently meeting with an important client. Would you like something to drink while you wait?" Jade handed the menu.

"No thanks. If it's going to take a long time, I'll go. I was going to tell him to be in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm for the monthly meeting.”

“I thought you came because you needed money.” said a familiar voice.

“Azul-san,” you greeted Azul.

"You're done early," said Jade.

“Then, as I said, please come to the meeting tonight, Azul-san.” You got up.

“Eh~ shrimpy are you leaving already?” Floyd whined.

“I have a lot of work to do so I have to go.”

“See you then Y/n. Remember, whenever you need money, come.” said Azul.

“I don't think such a day will come. Even if I need money, Azul-san is the last person I would borrow money from.” You said and left.

Scarabia

The fourth division Scarabia was concerned with the external relations of the mafia with other organizations, high-ranking persons, etc. The head of this department was Kalim Al-Asim from the famous Al-Asim family.

Kalim Al-Asim, the cheerful head of the Scarabia department. Unlike other executives , Kalim was a kind, naive, sweet person. He treated his subordinates more like a friend than a manager. Sometimes you would forget that he was the executive of one of the most dangerous underground organizations. Apart from looking so naive, Kalim was pretty good at his job. His attitude towards people made many people like him, even though Jamil was the one who handling matters such as politics etc.

Jamil Viper is the director behind the shadows and Kalim's 'best friend'. He was the complete opposite of Kalim with his quiet, calm and cunning personality. Although Kalim got along well with people, Jamil usually made the deals. Jamil was the one mostly (almost entirely) take care of the department. Many people even call him the real director or the executive in the shadows for this reason.

“Some coffee?” You handed the man with his head buried in the documents a cup of coffee.

"It'll be fine," said the man with tired eyes.

“Looks like Kalim has left most of the work to you again, Jamil.”

"Why did you come ? Or is there another task or something? I swear, if the number of documents I have to deal with increases, I will throw myself from the highest floor of this building.”

You chuckled at his words.

“All executives should be in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm this evening for the monthly meeting.”

“Monthly meeting… Yes, I remember. Out of all the work, I forgot for a second. Okay, don't worry, I'll inform Kalim about the meeting."

"Okay then I'm leaving. Don’t work too much, it’s not good for your health ."

“If you don't want me to get too tired, you can do these things for me Y/n.”

“Sorry, next time, bye” you waved your hand from behind the door.

Pomefiore

Fifth division , the mafia’s assassin department Pomefiore. This department consisted of specially trained assassins who committed the perfect murder without leaving any evidence. At the head of the department was Vil Schoenheit ,one of the most famous assassins of the underworld and also one of the seven executives.

Vil Schoenheit , the best assassin of the underworld. Because he kills his targets with poison, he is nicknamed as the Poison Apple. He is known as a tough and strict person as a executive. He wants his subordinates to show their best. He dislikes being told about the Rival mafia’s assassin as well as his ex-partner Neige LeBlanche from whom he used to be trained by the same teacher.

Rook Hunt Vil's right-hand man, nicknamed Hunter. A lunatic who says death is when people are most beautiful. Unlike Vil, he likes to play with his prey. He talks endlessly about how sweet the way his prey escapes him seems to him.

Epel Felmier Pomifiore's rookie. The poor boy had only wanted to join Savanaclaw, but Vil had taken him in, claiming he saw potential. Unlike the other members of Pormifiore, Epel was a noisy, uncontrollable person. That's why you still didn't understand what kind of potential Vil saw in him.

“Oh Y/n welcome, I didn't expect to see you.” ' Rook called out. He and Epel were outside for target practice.

“Yes, I came to meet with Vil-san. Is he in his room?"

“Oh yes, he just got back from his Duty. Right now he’s probably busy with his skincare routine."

"I understand. What are you doing ?" you asked.

"Oh, I took little Epel with me on my last mission, but he's still not good at using weapons, so we were practicing target practice with him."

“How many times have I said I don't want to be a Pomefiore assassin. Let me go to Savanaclaw." whined Epel.

This rug of his made you laugh.

“If Vil-san sees potential in you, there must be something in you. I have to go now, I have to meet with Vil-san.”

You knocked on the door, when the answer came, you entered. Vil was lying on the bed with a clay mask on his face, filing his nails. When you entered, he stopped and looked at you.

"You look wonderful as always, sir." You greeted him.

“And You look awful as always, Potato. Why did you come ?"

You smiled.

“Please come to the main headquarters meeting room for the Monthly meeting tonight at 8 pm. The boss wants all executives to be there.”

“Agh! Was it today. OK, is there anything else I should know ?"

“No, sir. Then with your permission"

As you were about to leave, you stopped at Vil's call.

“Potato, I will be free this week. I need to take care of your situation. You really have to take care of yourself a little bit.”

“Thank you for your thoughtful consideration. I will contact you when I am free.”

Ignihyde

The sixth department was Ignihyde, this department was the source of information for the mafia as well as producing state-of-the-art weapons and vehicles with great engineers. At the head of the department was Idia Shroud, one of the seven executives.

Idia Shroud , the mysterious director of the Ignihyde department even his subordinates in his department almost never saw his face . Although he was known as a genius, the nerdy genius Idia would never leave his room (aside from the urging of his brother and you) and would work all day with new weapons or stuff . He would even forgot his daily basis so you had to call him every day to remind him.

You suddenly opened the door, only computer light illuminating the dark room. You entered the room, ignoring the owner.

“Ahh Y/n-shii stop!” ' the blue-haired man pleaded.

You opened the curtains.

“Agh sunshine!”

“You are overreacting , you played video games all night again. Your eyes are purple from lack of sleep. You haven't even eaten. What am I going to do with you, Idia-san.”

Idia averted his eyes like a child scolded by their mother.

“I made you dinner. Don't forget to eat it or I’ll be really pissed off . If I didn't had any work , I'd stay and feed you with my own hands, but - whatever. Come to the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm this evening. For the monthly meeting, the boss wants all the executives.”

“Do I have to come? Can I talk through the tablet? I can right? “

You raised one of your eyebrows as meaning to say was it even a question . Upon your gaze, Idia clung to your leg and began to whine.

“Y/n-shii please I don’t want to come. You can't leave me alone in the same room with those horrible mens."

You ran your hands through your hair.

“Idia-san please let go of my leg. I still have a lot of work to get done. Have your dinner and come to the meeting tonight. Then with your permission-”

“I don't allow it!”

“I said it because of politeness.” You finally saved your leg and left.

Diasomnia

Finally, Diasomnia, even you didn't know what this department was in charge of. All you knew was that only the most talented, powerful people could get in. In other words, it could be called the special department of the mafia.

Malleus Draconia is the heir to the famous Draconia family and also the head of Diasomnia, one of the seven executives of the Night Raven mafia. Even though you were friends with him, you didn't know much about him. He was just a mysterious and kind man.

Lilia Vanrogue is a jovial, playful Diasomnia member. He may be the mafia member with the most gossip about him. According to some rumors, he was a former government agent, according to others he was a former mercenary who fought on the battlefields but who knows what was real ,only God knew.

Silver was a mysterious type like the other Diansomnia members, not much was known about him. He was a quiet man, spending most of his time sleeping. On rare occasions you've seen him train with Sebek or Lilia. He was a really great fighter.

Sebek Zigvolt a Diasomnia member who is the complete opposite of Silver. Although he was often with Silver, he was the complete opposite of him. Every time he saw him he was baffled by Silver that he should be a suitable subordinate to Malleus.

“Hello Y/n.” You reflexively drew your gun at the sudden sound you heard.

“Oh your reflexes are pretty good.” Seeing that the voice was owned by Lilia, a member of Diasomnia with short black-purple hair, you relaxed and put your gun down.

“Lilia-san you scared me.”

“Oh really ,” Lilia chuckled.

"If you're looking for Malleus, he's having tea in his study."

"Thank you sir."

Malleus told you to enter before you even knocked on the door. When you walked in, you saw Malleus drinking tea by the window. While drinking tea he was watching Sebek and Silver, who were training outside.

“Malleus-san , good day sir.” You greeted him.

“Good day to you too Y/n.” said Malleus gently.

“I'm disturbing you, but I came to inform you that the monthly meeting will be in the main headquarters meeting room at 8 pm this evening. The boss wants all seven executives to be there.”

“I know Y/n. Would you like to join me while drinking tea? There are also cookies you like.”

As expected of Malleus Draconia, he already knew everything.

“I am sorry sir but I must decline your invitation. But I'll be happy to have tea with you another time."

Malleus smiled. "I understand"

“Then with your permission, sir” and you left.

Everything was ok. The documents were lined up in order, the food and drinks that each executive liked were prepared. One hour left until the meeting. You took a deep breath as you got everything done on time.

“Good job again as always Y/n.”

“Crewel-sensei!”

Divus Crewel , a former mafia executive. He had quit running a long time ago, but was still training newcomers to the mafia. He used to be your teacher.

"I heard you're leaving the mafia."

Your eyes got huge with what he said.

"Sensei-"

“Don't worry no one knows but me, but I don't think it will take them long to find out huh. “

“You are right sir,” you said shamefaced.

“Before you came, these seven brats were always arguing. Not a single day in the mafia would go smoothly, but after you came, at least the departmental fights within the mafia were over. “

You were silent, not knowing what to say.

“Y/n you have to be very careful ,those seven are not the ones who will just accept the fact you’re leaving the mafia. The more you run, the more they will find you. You know right ? They're not the seven executives of Night Raven for nothing."

"Yes sir."

“Then there is nothing to do. I hope you live a peaceful life after the mafia.”

“Thanks sensei”

[norrisleclercf1]

Mafia!pierre where he kidnaps reader to negotiate with her dad (another mafia leader) but slowly starts falling for her and gets protective?

Warnings: Kidnapping, bad language, protective!Pierre, murder

Words: 1.3K

A/N: Yeahhhh I started writing and it turned into a fic, whoops

"You kidnapped her?" Pierre looks up from his paperwork, a slight smile on his lips. "Maybe." Pierre's right-hand man groans, throwing his arms up, and walks away. "Whatever, her bastard of a father deserves it anyway," Pierre grumbles, thinking about a particular person sleeping in his bed.

It was pretty easy to kidnap you. You'd think the daughter of a Mafia Boss would have exceptional security, but Pierre and his men could move in and take you without a fuss. It helped that they had an insider slip you a sedative during your nightly tea.

Pierre groans, clicking on the security cameras to check in on you. Seeing you curled around his pillow and still out, he smiles. Your father will notice soon that you have been taken and come screaming for your back. Yet, it will be challenging for him to get you back. As Pierre will finally have his demands met.

Bored, he leaves his office, heads to his bedroom, and nods off the guards as he enters his room. "Shame, you are delicious looking," Pierre whispers, poking your cheek, watching how you wince, batting his finger away. "Leave m awone." Words muffled by his pillow, Pierre rolls his eyes.

"Don't want to wake, fine, I'll wake you." Grabbing the glass of water on the nightstand, he throws it right in your face. "Ahhh." Waking up with gasps, face and neck cold from the water, and suddenly woken. "How dare you wake me up like this! Father will-" You stop blinking when you see someone you know all too well.

"Gasly." You hiss, Pierre smirking as he sets the glass down. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocks back onto his heels. "You're a deep sleeper and far too trusting of your father's staff." Unable to think of a comeback, you glare at Pierre, who rocks forward, poking your cheek. Slapping his hand away, he chuckles.

"Wonder how much Daddy will give me for you? I'm sure it's a lot." Wincing at his words, you know the truth. Pierre will see nothing from your father; that man could care less for you. If your mother was still around, maybe he'd care, but with his new mistress and her pregnant, you were trash to him.

"You'll get nothing from him." You bite back. Pierre clicking his tongue, bops your nose, knowing you hate it. "Please, his precious baby daughter? He'll give me whatever I want when he finds out you've been taken." Looking away, you take in the dark classic French and Roman architecture, shocked by his excellent taste.

"You'll get nothing," Sighing, you look down. "I mean nothing to him." The last part whispered that Pierre didn't hear it. "Speak up, Y/n. It's annoying when you mumble. Don't get comfortable in my bed unless." He steps forward, leaning in the heavy scent from the pillow floating off him. "You want to warm my bed for me every night." Slapping him hard on the cheek, you scramble off and slam the bathroom door having to pee.

"Awwww, don't pout cherie. You and I can have our own fun." His laugh echoes as he leaves you alone. "Creepy French bastard. Hate that you smell good." You hiss, staring at the cologne that was clearly his. "Oops." Hand knocking it over as it spills open and down the sink. "Hope you're not a limited edition." Skipping to the shower.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

5 weeks later

"Clearly, her father doesn't give a fuck about her. We can just kill her now." Pierre doesn't answer, watching the camera outside as you tan; you're so still; Pierre sent someone to watch and make sure you don't fall asleep. "We're not killing her," Pierre growls, glaring at the men before him.

"Of course not, because you've been fucking her every night since she's been here." The room goes still as Pierre searches for the one who said that, eyes land on the one person not looking him in the eyes. "You've got the ball to say it, but not look me in the eyes and say it?" The guy looks up, face pale, staring at the ice-cold eyes of his Don. "It's true, though; she's been in your room every night. Fucking that whore." Pierre shoots out of his chair.

Grabbing the guy by the collar, he slams his head down hard, and a sickening crack bounces off the walls. "If you think I'd stick my dick in her pussy you are very wrong. But, I will not tolerate you calling her a whore. Burying him in the sea." He lets the guy slide down as the others move fast. "No one bothers me for the rest of the day." Pierre closes the cameras down, heading to the pool.

"You'll burn if you stay out here." Groaning at your peace being ruined. "Go away, Gasly. I'm sure you're busy with my father." The lie tastes like acid on your tongue. "I'm ignoring him." Pierre, not wanting to tell you the truth. He licks his lips, the 2 acts of kindness he's done for you today making him sick.

Technically it's 3 acts of service as he let you stay in his room. Pierre has been sleeping on the couch in the room, having never touched you. He's joked about it but stops and walks away when he senses your uneasiness. The anger in his office, hearing his men call for your death, felt wrong; even hearing that bastard call you a whore was like a pit. He hates that he knows how you take your tea, favorite scents, flowers, etc.

It was small stuff that you'd tell him at night. The silence in the room was deafening, and you couldn't handle it. Pierre noticed and placed a small sound machine in the room, only turning it on when you stopped talking. He hates that your father doesn't care you've been kidnapped. That he still hasn't sent word that his daughter was missing, nothing. It makes him want to tear the man apart.

"You're lying. Found out the truth have you?" You pull off Pierre's sunglasses, watching the man before you look away, suddenly interested in the pool. "Like I said, I'm ignoring him. He's sent something, but I wasn't satisfied with it." Pierre snaps, angry at himself more than you. Rolling your eyes, you lay back down, soaking in the sun. "You can lie to me all you want, but I'm waste. Father has his dumb little mistress ready to pop soon, and the moment it's a son, he'll send someone here and kill me." Pierre freezes upon hearing those words.

Why does he get this pit in his stomach anytime someone mentions you dying? It's stupid; you're the enemy. Yet he cares when he sees that rejected look in your eyes and wants to take it away or learn another fact about you.

Shit, he was fucked. Was he starting to care for you? No, he couldn't be. You're an annoying person who spilled his favorite cologne yet clings to his pillow to inhale more. He likes when you tell him his stupid orange shorts look lovely against his sun-kissed skin or his eyes are like rare sapphires. He hates that you pick flowers and bring them into his office. How you have become too comfortable in his daily routine and home. Like you're supposed to be here.

"No one will hurt you while you're under my care. If anyone so much as jokes about it, tell me." Looking back, you see how serious Pierre is. Hearing a commotion, you look, seeing a black bag and people struggling. "Is that what you mean? Killing your own people?" Not at all disturbed by the scene. You've seen worse while living with your father.

Taking a step forward, he touches your chin, the two of you looking at each other. "Yes, I don't care how many of them I kill. No one touches what's mine." Dropping your chin, he walks off, leaving you there.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

enhypen jake mafia special

synopsis: married life with mafia boss jake sim

pairings: jake sim x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: violence, guns, killings and curses. (let me know if i missed some)

important note: if you haven’t read the one shot of jake sim, i suggest for you to read it first. you can find the fic › here

“It was really nice to see you in this meeting, Jake Sim.” the man across the long conference table says that caught Jaeyun’s attention. He leans comfortably to his swivel chair and smirks lightly.

“I couldn’t say the same since this meeting made me leave my family back in Korea.” Jake states without holding back. The man laughs finding how Jaeyun’s straightforward demeanor amusing.

This is one reason why he made it big at the mafia world. He was known for skills in business and how straightforward of a person he is.

“It was only for two weeks. I’m sure your wife can manage?” the teasing smile plastered on his face clicks something inside Jake, despite the uneasy feeling he kept his grin.

“Speaking of your wife, she’s very beautiful. I’ve seen her once at a gala gathering. Stunning lady.” his statement slowly made the grin on the mafia boss fade.

He knew very well that his wife is very beautiful. In fact, she’s the most gorgeous girl that walked in this earth. But as the possessive man that he is, he couldn’t let the diminutive hint of teasing over his tone go.

“She’s mine.” short, but the firmness in every words he emphasize made the smirk at the man in front of him wider.

He chuckles, triggering more of Jake’s temper. Sunghoon on the other hand enters the meeting room with curious eyes. Just by the look over his friend’s face, he knew something’s off.

“I never said she isn’t, Jake.” he raised his hand as a gesture of defeat, smirk still lingering in his ugly face.

Jaeyun fists balled tightly. “Come on, losen up Sim. You wouldn’t ruin this good friendship just for a girl, right?”

He didn’t waste any time and he stood up, his gun pointed right at the man. His men around instantly reacted and like him, guns are ready to shoot anytime. Sunghoon smoothly puts his hands inside his pocket and watches the scene unfold, a yawn escapes his mouth.

“I am not friends with you,” Jake started and with cold blank eyes he tilts his head. “and I can ruin anything for my wife.” he was about to pull the trigger of his gun, but then he felt something points beside his head.

The brother of the man in front of him stoods feets away, “Think about it first, Sim.”

Instead of being scared, Jake smirks and scoffed making the man offended. He was about to talk again, but a gun fire made him lose the ability to. His body fell cold to the ground, blood making a mess to carpeted floor.

The man in front of him was utterly surprised, mouth gapped at the unexpected scene unfolding.

Sunghoon sighed and lightly kicked the body of the guy he just shot dead. No remorse can be seen over his face, “He’s been getting on my nerves. That felt good.” he says like as if what he did is no illegal.

“T-The deal will be o-off if you kill me.” his stuttering almost made him laugh loudly. These type of people is what he hates the most.

His men were all stoned at their position, the intimidating stares Park Sunghoon sending him was enough for them to disobey their boss.

“Your company sucks anyway.” and without batting an eye, Jake clicked his gun ending the man’s life.

His head hit the table, eyes open and blood covering the wooden surface. Sunghoon chuckles, “I guess no deal then?”

Jaeyun sighs and casually grabs his thing. He walks towards the body of the man, he threw the papers they just signed. The white paper almost turns red because of his blood.

They walks outside the meeting hall and straight to the elevator.

“7/10 business deals.” Sunghoon sighs, “Good enough, right? How many count for you this trip?” he asks, eyes looking at his friend through the elevator’s reflection.

Jake sighs, “Five.”

He heard his friends low groan, “Damn. Mine’s ten, dude. My wife will kill me. Can you add that last kill to yours?” Sunghoon sounds stressed that made Jake scoff.

“You killed him tho?”

“To save you!”

“Thanks, brother.” Jake smirks and taps his friend’s shoulder. He shoved it off and clicked the side of his cheeks.

“Is our plane ready? I want to go home already.” just the thought of you makes Jake wants to teleport himself to your side. He misses you, your hugs, and kisses. He misses all of you. And of course your son.

“Its been waiting for an hour.”

“Great.” and just in time, the elevator door opens.

“Jahan, son?” you knocked over to his door twice and waits for a response. When you heard nothing, you furrowed your brows lightly before tilting your head curiously.

You were about to ask one of your maid if Jahan is down the stairs when he swiftly opened his door. The familiar messy hair of your son was the first thing that greets you, his big doe eyes looked sleepy and his plump reddish lips were pursed a bit.

“Jahan!” you happily greeted.

He went close to give you a short hug as a greetings, “Yeah, Mom?”

Staring at him you couldn’t believe how years passed by too quickly. You can still remember the time Jake saved you from your awful relationship, then you two fell in love and got married. Afterwards you had Jahan and he was so cute when he was a child. Now that he’s fifteen already, he grew into a gorgeous boy and grew a little cold.

“Your dad is almost here. We need to go down and welcome him.”

He nodded his head with no complain so you smiled and raised your hand to fix his messy hair. He moved his head away, grunting a little making you laugh and pout.

“Don’t grow up too fast, please.” you mumbled.

He smirks and fixed his hair himself. “Just give me a sibling already.”

Your eyes grew big at his sudden request. “Jahan Sim? Do you think its that easy?”

He shrugged his shoulders off, “I’ll meet you down in a minute.”

You let out a sigh and just nodded before starting going downstairs. Jake was in a business trip with Sunghoon in Italy so they’ve been gone for two weeks. He wanted so bad to take you with him, but you also have matters to take care of. You said both of you will manage two weeks being away from each other. Thinking of it now, you realized how much you miss your husband.

“Is everything ready for our lunch?” you asked one of your maids when she walks pass by holding a fresh flowers in a vase.

“Yes, Ma’am.” she smiles.

You nodded and fished your phone to go check if Jake messaged something. He did and said that he’s a minute away from your house and that he couldn’t wait to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you. A chuckle escaped from your lips because of your husband’s clingy side. Who knew a mafia boss as ruthless as him have this kind of personality? The people that fears him will be super thrilled if they’ve discovered this side of Jake Sim.

“Mr. Sim arrived, Madam.” your head lifts and you nodded as the maid opened the two big doors of your mansion.

Just in time, Jahan walks down from the stairs looking more decent for the arrival of his Father. You smiled and fixed his hair a bit more and this time he didn’t move.

“You missed Dad that much?” he teased and you just playfully glare at him.

Both of you walks outside and numbers of vehicles enters your property. Your husband’s car was the first to park not too far from where you are. He opened the door and gave his key to one of his men waiting for him.

His eyes directly went towards your direction and a small smirk appeared his lips. You waved and he started walking closer, taking off his coat.

“Baby,” he greeted and quickly pulled you into a hug.

“Me or Mom?” Jahan interrupts that made the both of you chuckle.

Jake pulls away and placed a kiss at your lips before turning towards your kid. He messed his hair, his eyes looking lovingly at his child. It made your heart full. These moments are the ones that makes you feel so contented. Seeing the two most important boys in your life is more than enough.

“How’s school, Jahan?” Jake asked while the three of you now enjoy eating lunch together after a while.

“It’s fine, Dad. I’m still part of the top students.” and that made your smile wider.

Jahan is an excellent student. His teachers often compliments him and tells you how great of a student he is. You and Jake don’t really push him to be an honor student or to be first to his class. All you want is for him to study, finish school and have some friends.

You and your husband noticed how he’s not very sociable to other people. He limits the one he talks and interacts with. It’s not a bad thing, but you still want him to have a normal childhood despite being the next heir to the Sim clan.

He does have friends. The kids of your friends is whom he only hangouts with. You are hoping he befriend kids that aren’t from mafia families. You are afraid he will grow up and get his father’s workaholic attitude.

“Do you think Jahan is all right?” you suddenly asked that night, while you two are already alone in your bedroom.

Jake was busy taking out and showing you the stuff he bought you. All the designer bags and clothes just proved how your husband only thinks of you during his business trip. Surely, you didn’t slip off his mind despite being away from esch other. You are very thankful for it and was enjoying, until Jahan went inside your mind.

Jake tilts his head, confused. “What do you mean, baby?” he asks and walked towards the single sofa near your bed. He pulls you closer and made you sat on his lap.

You draws in a big sigh and Jake’s eyes trails from your eyes down to your nose, your cupid’s bow and your lips. Your pretty lips that belongs to him. He smirked by the thought before he leans in and placed a soft gentle kiss at your shoulder blades, and then one over your neck, before putting his hand over it to pull your face down for a kiss on your lips.

A smooch sound errupts your quiet room. You pull away after a couple of seconds, Jake’s lips chasing after yours that made you chuckle. “Did you know what Jahan told me a while ago?”

Jake stared at you with his drunk-like eyes, he seemed uninterested about it and all he can think of is your lips. He tilts his head trying hard to focus on what you’re saying.

“What?‘” he asks gently.

“He said he wants a sibling.”

Now you totally caught his attention because a grin made its way towards your husband pretty face. He looked dangerously hot and the way his hands caress your sides aren’t helping at all. He was always touchy and clingy, nothing new to you, but the effect it gives you never changed.

“Really, huh?” he whispers teasingly and he leaned closer your body, making his lips touch your shoulder blades. His eyes looks up at you, filled with nothing but love and desire.

“Do you think we should start thinking about having our second baby?” you ask innocently. It was a big deal for you and you’ve always thought that being prepared is an important key point in building family.

“Do you want to have another baby?”

Your lips pursed, “Its not just what I want, Jake. We need to be deciding this together. Do you want another child?”

Jake’s lips settled at your skin, the heat sending it bothers you in a pleasing way. His eyes lightens at what you asked and the his eyes turned doe gave you an impression that he wants to tell you a lot of things.

He leaned away and then reached over your ears. The way his lips gently grazes your skin send thousand of volts in you. It made you feel things only him can do.

“Why don’t I just show you how much I want it?” he whispered in a husky voice before you yelped because he started carrying you towards your shared bed.

He moves his face and easily found your lips. Your arms locked around his neck trying to pull him as close as possible. Jake’s too eager on making you feel good. He was determined to express his overwhelming love for you through making love.

“I love you so much,” he says between the heated sweet kisses. “I am very excited to make our family bigger with you.” and he carefully pushes your delicate body to the bed as he hovers above you.

“Looks like some people’s having fun at a broad daylight!” Jace exclaimed as he stood over the railings, looking at whatever it is beneath them. From the third floor of their school building, the view of the small lounge where students can hang out is what you will see.

Jahan’s eyes follows what his friend was looking as he felt a presence beside him. He saw a couple of students below them at the lounge. Just by the mere look of it, they’re making fun of the girl in front of them.

She’s on her knees while the students around her obviously bullies her. Jahan silently watched and rested his elbows at the railings. He knew who the girl was. She’s from his class and often made fun of by his classmates. Seems like being a scholar surrounded by kids who thinks money is everything is a big struggle.

“Who are they even?” Jace asks again.

Alana, his twin sister joined them and as expected not happy with the scene.

“Some low class mafia kids! They annoy me so much!” her soft voice was distinct and very familiar with Jahan already.

The tall figure beside Jahan shifts his weight so he can face Alana better. “Why? What did they to you?” Sin’s question was like a trap. Jahan was sure that with Alana’s words, Sin will no doubt go there and mess with them.

Jahan smirks and looked back at the scene.

“Of course not to me! I meant to her,” she says, totally feeling bad. “to Amara.” she added.

‘Amara’ Jahan repeats to his mind. He doesn’t know what he thinks of her honestly. He doesn’t even know how he can remember her when he really don’t care about the people around him.

“Maybe they target her because she’s really beautiful.” she sighs, frustrated.

“Who?” Sin asks.

Alana rolls her eyes, “Are you not listening? I said Amara!”

Sin scoffed, “You’re prettier.”

Jahan shakes his head off, refusing to listen to his friend being too simp for Alana. He still cannot understand how can his friend be so rough towards other people and too soft for her. It’s funny for him. Hilarious.

“Well, she is pretty.” Jace leans over the railing with a grin on his face. Jahan glanced at his way and unconsciously send cold glares to his friend. He wasn’t aware of it at all and he can’t understand the emotion slowly sparkles inside of him.

“I heard they started that when she rejected Ken.”

The three boys looks at Alana and her stares down at the scene with sad eyes. Jace snorted and pinched his twin’s nose before he facing his back at the railing.

“I will reject Ken too if I were her. He’s pathetic.”

Jahan’s eyes slowly trailed back at them. Amara’s head is hanging low while one of the girls stood in front of her. She grabbed her hair, yanking it. Her friends laughed at the scene while they even record it using their phones.

The bell rang and their group of friends started going to their class. Sin has his arm around Alana’s shoulder as they talk about something. Jace’ beside Jahan, waving and winking at the girls they walk pass by. He rolls his eyes, used but still annoyed about his friend's antics.

Their day goes on normally, the young generation of famous mafia clans are unstoppable. Jahan’s group of friends are strict when interacting with other students, keeping their circle small and limited to people that have the same status as them.

“See you tonight at the party, boys!” Alana cheerfully waves at them while one of their men hold the car’s door for her.

“Send me a pic of your dress so I’ll match with you.” Sin requested that Alana just agreed on before entering their vehicle. Jace follows after sending a short salute to their friends.

Sin didn’t waste a time to ride his service after nodding at Jahan. One of his bodyguard held the door for him, he went inside both hands inside his pocket. As their vehicle left the vicinity of their school, Jahan’s mind went blank. It was the usual boring ride way home until his eyes caught a familiar face.

“Stop.” his words instantly made his driver stop their car. His eyes looked at the group of students by the side of the road. They were pushing the poor girl making her fell to the floor.

She looked pitiful, but Jahan isn’t someone who pity people. So when he went out and started walking towards that circle, he doesn’t fully understand why. His presence were quickly noticed by the crowd, eyes growing out of surprise and fear.

“J-Jahan!” one greeted.

He didn’t spare them a glance and went straight to cary the girl over his arms.

“Wait!” one stopped him that he obliged.

He craned his neck to look at her. She gulped, scared of his intimidating aura. The words she ought to say long forgotten.

“From now on if you mess with her, you mess with me.” and without saying anything nor waiting for their responses, Jahan walks towards their car while carrying the girl in his arms.

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[cissyenthusiast010155]

I am SO excited that the Mafia AU won for your Lady D fic poll and I CANNOT wait to read it!

My Little Toyslut ~MobBoss!Alcina Dimitrescu xFem Spy!Traitor!Reader (Mafia AU)

Summary— The infamous, mob boss Lady D finds out she had a traitor in her midst. What will she do when she finds out it’s Reader, one of her closest and most trusted advisors…? Anon Response— Hi hi hi anon!! I am so glad to hear how much you look forward to my Alcina!MafiaAU fics! Here is another one, it’s another one shot (doesn’t take place in the same plotline as the first), but it’s still an Alcina!MafiaAU fic. Hope you enjoy! ♥️

Link to First Alcina!Mafia Fic (;

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, wee bit of angst, eating out (oral sex), implied smut, kissing, teasing, degradation, light torture themes, light hate sex theme, light non-con theme, implied overstimulation, fear, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

You were swaying in the air, your wrists bound by tight rope which in turn was hung around a rusty ceiling beam. Your head was ringing and your vision was blurry as you began to wake up. Part of you vision was clouded from your dried up blood, a consequence of having been hit in the head. That's how you had lost consciousness.

You tried to wiggle at your restraints, but it seemed that the more you fought, the tighter the rope pulled against your sensitive and now raw wrists. In dismay, you turned your attention to the room around you, trying to memorize and remember every detail as if your life depended on it.

Realistically, it probably did. The most infamous, powerful boss in the city had found out you were a spy, undercover for the Agency. You had spent years infiltrating Lady Dimitrescu's inner circle of corruption. It had taken immense push and pull over the years to gain her trust. And then another fucking idiot of a mob boss had found your name out, and in spite and seek for vengeance, he had given you up. One of Lady D's closest advisors... He wanted to watch her empire crumble, and you were his choice of weapon.

You were torn from your thoughts as the only door in the room opened and two goons entered, followed by none other than Lady D. The two men gave you sleazy grins as they stalked towards you, but Dimitrescu had other ideas...

"Leave us."

The goons turned around with grumbles, but listened as they left the falling apart room, slamming the door behind them. Lady D's gaze then turned towards you. Your breathing was shallow and you lowered your head and gaze in turn. She slowly stalked towards you, making the hairs in the back of your neck bristle with pure fear. You were trembling, hanging mess by the time was right in front of you, towering over your hanging frame.

"I must say I was... surprised when it was your name that came up in my recent meeting..." She purred warily.

You still kept your head down and did not meet the woman's gaze. You wouldn't dare. Afterall, you'd seen her slaughter men for far less. When you made no response, Alcina cocked her brow in satisfaction and she continued.

"I must admit... You had me fooled. Not many people can say that... not many who are alive anyway..." Alcina hummed, as her claws ran up from your cheeks down to your feet.

You shuttered at the touch, closing your eyes and preparing to feel the pain of being slashed to bits. But instead, you heard the sound of her claws retracting. And then you felt her stern hand on your chin, roughly forcing your head and gaze up to meet hers. You fought against the restraints and her hold, but to no avail, they were both far stronger and far more resolved.

"Look at me, Draga!" She sneered.

Your meek gaze met the powerful woman's. You bit your lip and tried not to cry or shake too violently. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, as if she had been crying.

"I invited you into my empire, into my bed... and this is how you repay me...??" Alcina jeered.

You couldn't stop the tears that came pouring down your face anymore. They flowed all the way down to Alcina's fingers, where she curtly would wipe them away without another word about it.

"I... I-- I'm sorry--" you stammered, your eyes looking around frantically while trying to make sense of what she wanted from you.

For a mere moment, you saw the rawness of hurt flash across the woman’s facade. But it was quickly replaced with rageful apathy.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, she dropped your head and sliced something above you with her razor sharp claws. Your limp, trembling body hit the cement ground with a crack!. You were still bound by the wrists, but you were no longer hanging from the ceiling.

In one swift move, the lady grabbed you by the wrists and pushed you up against the dirty wall, so that your were outstretched from her one hand tight hold on your wrists, your toes barely touching the floor.

You winced, letting out a guttural and painful groan, and tore your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut tight. You could feel the woman’s heavy, hot breath against your neck. Her face was right up in your personal space.

You waited for your doom with bated breath, tears still running down your cheeks with no plan to stop anytime soon. But instead of doom, you suddenly felt Alcina’s hot mouth on your neck. Her slippery tongue licked and irritated your sheening skin, as her mouth sucked tightly, creating the exact vacuum of pressure for the perfect bruise.

At the first hickey, you didn’t know how to respond, your body simply limp, still, and silent towards the menacing woman. But by the second bruising, this one the lady placed right on your collarbone, you couldn’t help the breath you sucked in, accompanied by a shiver running through your spine.

But slowly, bruise after bruise, Alcina started to warm your body up. By the time she got to your pressure point, you had craned your neck back for her access and were overtly breathily groaning out after each marking, your eyes threatening to roll back. You could feel the tight coil in your core slowly building as your breathing shallowed and your body came alive.

Alcina sliced your clothing off piece by piece with no further comment, and you took it from her, not daring to oppose. With more exposed skin came more slow and meticulous sucking and marking. By the time the powerful woman got to your thighs, you were an aching mess. But you bit your lip, resisting the urge to beg, as you knew better to talk unless instructed to.

“Who do you belong to, Draga…?” Alcina growled into your now exposed cunt, her hot breath alone to make your core clench around nothing.

You suddenly felt dizzy, and very subservient. The lady tended to have that effect on you. You had hated it at first, as your job was to take her down by spying on her. But overtime, you had learned that Lady Alcina Dimitrescu wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. Or at least her tongue and fingers weren’t…

“I… y-you my lady—“ you whimpered.

“That’s right… So what’s this when I hear someone else is claiming to own you and your services…?” She cooed wickedly, as her free hand gripped your left thigh until it bled.

“N-nothing ma’am—! I belong to y-you and you only…!” You pleaded, trying to fight back tears.

“Good girl…” Alcina hummed, before sliding her lengthy tongue all the way into your core.

You couldn’t help how your body reacted to the woman and her wicked administrations. You shuddered, hating just how good her slithering tongue felt inside your cunt. Your head hit the wall with a light crack! as your eyes effectively rolled back, a filthy moan spewing out from your lips.

“That’s right… My little toyslut… aren’t you…?” Alcina chuckled darkly, pulling away her tongue from your cunt momentarily.

The whimper that erupted from your throat at the loss of stimulation made you want to throw up. But all these feelings were quickly stifled by the intense pleasure of two of the lady’s fingers filling your core. You nodded your head vigorously, willing to do and say anything as long as she continued to make you feel this good.

The first orgasm that Alcina pulled out of you hit you like a brick, your body spasming against the wall and her firm hanging hold on your wrists. You desperately tried to stifle your sounds of pleasure, but your pleasure was so intense, you couldn’t contain your screams.

“That’s it, my little whore… Be a good draga and take it.” the tall mob boss wickedly cooed.

By her increasing speed and your curling toes, your fractured mind could barely piece together the fact that this woman was not stopping anytime soon…

~~~

Alcina Dimitrescu Masterlist

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 33

Part 33: Under Pressure

Series Masterlist

Words: 5k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia, reference to violence and violent acts, references to sexual violence. Strong language. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

You had just sat down at the dining room table for breakfast and it was quiet. Luca stepped around the corner from the kitchen, winking at you when he spotted you. Before he could bring out your breakfast, Dyson came wandering out of the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. Pulling out a chair at the other side of the table, he took a seat and joined you.

"How are preparations going?" you asked, delighted that you were allowed to ask now.

Dyson nodded. He wasn't a bit surprised by your question.

"Things are coming along," he told you. "I called up some extra men first thing this morning. Clint and Scott are making the rounds, making sure we won't have security issues. We'll have it locked down well before everyone starts arriving."

You nodded, smiled. "Sounds good."

Luca hustled out with your breakfast, serving you fluffy eggs and fruit. You thanked him, grinning as he pulled out a chair next to Dyson. 

"What time is everyone getting here?" he asked Dyson.

"Four," Dyson told him. "That's the meeting time the boss set anyway."

Luca nodded, his gaze roaming to you. "What are you up to today, boss?" he asked.

Boss had you grinning. Plus, like Dyson, you could tell he was a little worried about how today would go from your perspective. You really appreciated that they noticed and cared.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," you told him after a moment. "I'm going to get in a little exercise, spend some time with Nat."

The two men exchanged a look and you had to laugh. "What are the two of you so worried about?" you asked. "Steve called a meeting today with the heads of the families to make sure everyone is on the same page. It's a good place to start. It'll put all the rumors to rest and Steve can start leading the families outright."

Luca's expression was bordering on comical. "I mean no disrespect but... You know you're not going to the meeting, right?"

That did have you laughing. "Yes, I'm aware."

"What's so funny?" Yelena's voice came from behind you as she walked into the dining room.

"These two making sure I'm okay with the meeting today," you explained. 

Nodding, Yelena made her way to the kitchen. You turned your attention back to the two older men across the table from you.

"Thank you for caring about me," you said, "but I'm fine with not being in that meeting. I promise."

"You are?" Dyson asked, skeptical.

"I am," you assured him. "Steve is letting me be part of the family business now. I don't need to be at the meeting."

Was that pride flashing in Dyson's eyes? He nodded as Yelena returned with her breakfast, taking a seat next to you.

"Any word on Barnes?" she asked.

Dyson blew out an exhale. "Someone is coming from the Barnes family," he said slowly. "I got an RSVP."

Luca scrubbed a hand over his face. "Could be sending Killmonger," he said.

"Barnes will be here himself," you said. It was just an instinct but you knew you were right. 

Setting his coffee mug on the table, Dyson's gaze met yours. "I think so too. He almost has to. Same reason as Steve. He has to show everyone he's still here."

"Male posturing," Yelena added and you chuckled. 

"Let's hope not," Dyson said. "Things are more than a little tense right now."

That had you thinking... "Do the other families know what Barnes pulled? I mean, do they know he tried to take Steve and his family down?"

"The Starks do," Luca said. "The Wilsons and Odinsons? I'm sure they're aware. They just tend to stay out of the drama unless it involves them."

"That's smart," Yelena added.

"Or they lack the muscle," you said.

Dyson nodded, indicating you were right. 

"If Barnes decides to try anything, we're ready right?" you had to ask.

"We are," Dyson told you. "But along that line of thinking, we need to think about where you're going to be during this meeting."

"Yes, we do," Yelena said. 

You understood. "I'm sure Nat, Yelena and I can find something to do. Where would we be safest?"

"Steve's study," Dyson said instantly. "We have a quick way to get you out if all hell breaks loose."

You made a mental note of that. "Just let me know when we need to be where."

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Nat asked for the third time in an hour.

You sighed. You didn't know the young woman who Hansen held prisoner. It was disconcerting that she looked like you. Even though you had nothing to do with it, you still felt a heavy sense of responsibility. You'd arranged for her to fly back home to her family, sent Barnes' money with her. The best thing you could do for her was to get her out of Boston and back to where she had a support network. You made sure she had a way to reach you in case she ever needed anything.

"Barnes wasn't kidding when he said he was giving her a generous gift," you said. "It's a lot of money. I know that in no way makes up for what she went through but... She was in college. I'm just hoping she can take that and make a fresh start somewhere else. Finish her education. I hope in time she's able to heal."

Yelena was quiet in her seat next to Nat, across Steve's desk from you. You understood why. Yelena had been the sick bastard's captive too. Since you'd known Yelena, Hansen was the only thing that scared her. You knew why your friend and personal protection dressed in the suits she wore. Yes, she was trying to be like any other soldier, to earn respect. But it made your heart sink to think about the physical scars she was hiding. Scars that Hansen branded her with.

If the bastard was alive, and you thought he was, he'd better pray he never crossed your path again. 

"What did doc have to say today?" Yelena asked Nat, changing the subject. "Everything is healing well?"

Nat smiled. "Everything is healing. But then, I didn't get shot so..."

You laughed at that. "That's just about the only thing the bastard didn't do to you."

"I'm glad he's gone," Nat said after a moment.

You exchanged a look with Yelena, both of you happy to hear that. You knew Clint was happy about her reaction to her abusive husband's death. While you understood why he took Banner out with Yelena's help, you knew he was worried about the impact of his actions on the woman he loved.

"I am too," you told her. "Now you can just be with Clint the way you always should have been."

Nat's deep sigh was the only sound in the quiet office. "I'm not the only one worried about today, am I?"

It was actually a relief that she addressed the elephant in the room.

"No," you admitted. "I don't like this any better than you do. But it has to be done."

"Why wouldn't Steve let you attend the meeting?" she asked.

"He never said I couldn't." That was the truth. "It was my decision to sit this out."

You couldn't tell which woman was more surprised. Yelena knew you were good with not going but she didn't know that. That had you smiling.

"It's not the right time," you told them. "It may never be the right time for anyone outside our family to know that I'm part of Steve's council. And if that's how it goes, I'm fine with that. I got what I wanted."

"It's more than what you wanted," Yelena pointed out. "It's where you need to be."

You appreciated her faith in you. Nat's smiled told you she agreed. You weren't worried about weighing in on situations as they arose to keep the family, all of you, safe. You knew you could help.

"I am a little nervous today," you told them, "because Barnes is coming."

"He RSVP'd?" Yelena asked.

You shook your head. "Not necessarily. Dyson said they indicated someone was coming but they didn't name Barnes. But he'll be here. He almost has to. He has to show everyone he's fit. Just like Steve does."

"After everything he did to this family," Nat said, "he gets to just waltz into our home for this meeting?"

You nodded. "He does. For now. And Steve has to be careful here. The other families have heard things. This is Steve's chance to set the record straight. To make sure everyone knows exactly what happened."

"And then what?" Nat's face was darkening in her rising anger. "We just go on like nothing happened?"

"No, then we gauge where the other families' allegiences lie," you explained. "Until we know that, we don't know how best to move forward."

"Tony Stark and Sam Wilson have been friends with my brother since high school," Nat said. "They better not even think about siding with Barnes on this. Not after everything he did."

Yelena nodded her agreenment.

"Steve doesn't think we have anything to worry about with the Starks or the Wilsons," you said. "The others? We'll see."

"What if the other families decide they don't have a problem with Barnes' bullshit?" Nat was really pissed about this.

"The only ones left are the Odinsons," Yelena pointed out.

You knew there was practically no chance of that happening but... 

"If that should happen, and I doubt it will, we'll deal with it," you told her. "Barnes will be dealt with. It's the how he's dealt with that we have to be careful with."

"Didn't we lose men over this shit?" Nat asked.

"So did Barnes," Yelena said. "Plus he lost Hansen and that's a big blow for him."

Nat wasn't done. You could tell the way she was staring you down. She was just trying to decide how to frame what she wanted to say.

"Aren't you afraid?" she asked you. "Of Barnes? You could have killed him at that little meeting in the park."

Yes, you were scared of Barnes. Very much so. But the only person you'd admitted that to was Yelena. Steve had overheard you but in your defense, you'd thought he was in a coma and couldn't hear you. You steeled yourself to answer her because you weren't going to let anyone else know just how worried about Barnes you were.

"Steve will keep me safe," you told her meaningfully. "He'll keep all of us safe. The day in the park? We intended to kill Barnes that day. If I hadn't panicked at the last moment..."

From the window behind Steve's desk, you could see the cars arriving. The screen of your phone showed it was 3:35 PM. The meeting would start soon.

"You did so well," Yelena picked it up from there. "You should have seen her, Nat. He had no idea who was she until she wanted him to know. I'm not sure I could have done that."

"Bullshit," you said, smiling. "You would have done a better job. And you had to deal with him because I froze."

"It's my job to protect you," Yelena reminded you. "Not the other way around."

A light tap at the door got your attention. Clint was stationed outside the office, neither him or Nat would allow otherwise. His gaze met yours and he crooked a finger at you.

Walking around the desk, you went to the door, walking out when Clint motioned you. Clint walked into the office and closed the door, leaving you in the quiet of the hallway with your husband. 

Smiling, you let him pull you into his arms. Steve was healing but he wasn't back to full strength yet. Still, he felt more solid and alive in your arms now. The blood red tie stood out against the polished silver suit he wore. The sent of his cologne, of him, invaded your senses, made you wish you could stay here a while. 

Easing back, your stretched up to kiss his mouth and Steve took you off guard. His kiss was searing, demanding. He took your breath away, his kiss seeking and lusty. You tasted the need of so many nights when you couldn't make love, when you didn't know if you'd lose him. Your own need was just as strong and you rotated your hips against him, feeling the heated hard ridge you were hoping for.

"Stop," he whispered against your lips. "You keep doing that and I'll fuck you right here in this hallway."

You grinned up at him. "How much time do we have?"

Steve smiled. "Don't tempt me."

"It's almost time," you told him. "You've got this."

"Yes, I do." Steve's entire demeanor backed up his words. "And once this meeting is over, we'll have a better idea of where we go from here."

"You'll tell me everything, right?"

"I promised, didn't I?" Steve brushed a kiss on your forehead, his gaze locking with yours. "Stay in the office with Belova and Nat. If Clint wants you to move, you do it with no question. You understand?"

"I do," you told him, trying to fight back your fear. Your entire world felt like it was balancing on a knife's edge and you just wanted it to be over. To move on.

Steve shook his head, chuckling. "I'm not used to you being so acquiescent. I could get used to this."

"Don't," you told him. "Because I'm not always going to be so easy to get along with."

"At least you're honest," Steve said. He stole one more kiss that had your heart hammering against his. Every part of you was in knots right now. From tension, fear, and lust. When he broke the kiss, his breath and yours came fast. "Let me get through this meeting... I need you so much right now."

Just as much as you needed him.

"Just make sure you're up to it," you said. "I want you too but I'm willing to wait if that's what's best for you."

"You are what's best for me," he said with feeling.

It was then you spotted a tiny spot of your lipstick, smudged on the collar of his pristine white shirt. "Shit," you muttered, reaching to see if you could get it off. 

Steve caught your hand. "Leave it," he said. "I want Barnes to see it."

You just wished more than anything that Barnes wasn't coming to your home. A sense of foreboding had you shivering.

"Go back in the office," Steve told you. "I love you."

"I love you too," you whispered.

Steve tapped on the office door and Clint came out the door in an instant, ushering you back into Steve's study to Nat and Yelena. Somehow, with their company, you made it through the next two hour while the meeting took place.

"They're all here, boss," Dyson said from behind him. 

Downing the rest of his Scotch, Steve set the empty glass on Luca's small kitchen table and blew out an exhale. It was time.

"Barnes is here?" he asked.

"Sure is," Dyson said. "Brought Killmonger and Zemo with him."

Turning to face his man, Steve prepared himself.

"You're going to handle this, you know?" Dyson said. 

"As long as I know she's safe, yeah, I am going to handle it."

"Nothing is going to happen to her," Dyson said meaningfully. "I promise you that."

Well, then...

Steve headed for the conference room, not stopping until he reached it. When he opened the door to let himself in, he saw his own men posted around the room, led by Scott who stood just behind the chair at the head of the table. His.

Steve's gaze met that of Tony Stark, then Sam. Thor Odinson watched him with cool blue eyes, his raven-haired brother Loki sitting by his side. They were the only unknowns in the room. Steve knew he had Tony and Sam's loyalty.

Then there was the man of the hour, Bucky Barnes himself, situated between the Odinsons and the Wilsons. Killmonger and Zemo stood behind his chair.  Barnes had no trouble meeting Steve's gaze but he was thinner than the last time he saw him, his pallor uncharacteristically pale. Belova and his wife had done a number on him. 

And Barnes would seek revenge. Steve would need to be a lot more vigilant in protecing his wife, his family. Everyone considered Hansen was out of the picture, but it would be unwise to forget about him. And Killmonger had always been the one he respected most. He was quiet, calculating, and deadly efficient.

"Gentlemen, thank you for coming," Steve said to the room. Taking his time, he took his seat. 

It didn't feel the same sitting there now. He'd only held one other such meeting as head of the families. That day he'd been excited, eager to take over, to rule. He'd been naive.

Things were different now. Yes, he'd sat on the throne, won the wife and her heritage. And he'd almost lost all of it because of arrogance. As he took in the heads of the other four familes, one by one, he knew he'd never take this position for granted again. Now he could feel the weight of all the responsibilities that came with it. Steve wanted to make his father proud. Her father proud. 

Mostly, he wanted to keep pride in his wife's eyes. The way she'd looked at him in the hallway. She believed in him. She loved him. And there was nothing he wouldn't do for her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dyson standing behind him. Yeah, he didn't want to let him down either. Dyson was his right hand, yes. But he was a father to him. He was a father to her. 

He had no intention of failing Dyson either.

"What's on the agenda today?" Tony asked with his characteristic smirk.

"I'm just going to be direct," Steve began. "There has been some dissension in our ranks."

"Dissension?" Thor asked.

Steve nodded. "Since I took the leadership of our five families, my family has been attacked numerous times." He caught Barnes' gaze and held it as he continued. "Barton was shot, Lloyd Hansen brought goons to my house in an attempt to kidnap my wife, my wife and my sister have suffered considerable injuries, and all the while my leadership has been called into question."

On that last, Barnes grinned. But before he could speak, Steve absolutely could not let anyone steal the floor from him at this meeting, Steve cut him off.

"All of it stops today," Steve said slowly, dragging out each word.

Loki grinned from his seat, his gaze sweeping around the room. "This is going to be fun."

His brother Thor looked skeptical. "Word on the street is that Banner is the one who shot Barton. Barton was having the man's wife, right under his nose. He dealt with his wife. None of these personal items have any place in this meeting."

"Dealt with his wife? My sister?" Steve kept his demeanor nonchalant but on this inside he was fuming. "That's what I thought too until I learned Banner had been talking with Barnes about business without my knowledge. My own consigliere. See, Barnes' consigliere is about to retire. Banner was under the impression that if he helped Barnes bring my family down, he'd be serving the Barnes family as their new consigliere. That changes things."

Thor's gaze cut to Barnes who now wore his poker face. Still, he looked unrepentent.

"No one has seen Banner," Thor pointed out. "Has that been dealt with? If what you say is true, that's quite a betrayal."

There it was. A subtle challenge to his leadership, but a challenge nonetheless.

"Banner has been dealt with," Steve said. "Barton found him hiding in Stark's turf... Why was he hiding there? Why wasn't he under your protection, Barnes?"

The pure anger in Barnes' steely blue eyes told Steve he was hitting his mark. When he remained silent, Steve continued.

"I allowed Barton to deal with Banner how he wanted. And anyone else who ever tries to deal with my sister? That man will  meet the same fate. Is that in any way unclear?"

A low murmur across the table. Tony wasn't doing even trying to hide his enjoyment of the meeting so far.

"You had proof of Barnes' traitorous actions before you made these decisions?" Thor asked, not letting it go. "I'm sure you realize these are serious allegations."

"Do I owe you or anyone a fucking explanation?" Steve shot back, pissed.

"Yeah, you do," Barnes chimed in. "Because the evidence suggests you're not managing your own turf all that well, boss." He put an ugly emphasis on the word "Boss." "You've taken hits to businesses you're supposed to be protecting. People who depend on you are losing business, people are getting hurt."

Smiling at the reminder, Steve sighed. "People getting hurt. Like the murder and rape your men committed in that shop on my turf? Like the girl you allowed Hansen to kidnap from a donut shop in my territory? She got hurt. He kept her for days."

"I didn't give him that order," Barnes said cooly.

"Doesn't matter," Stave said. "He still acted under your authority."

Barnes was now staring him down and Steve silently willed him to say something else. Say it. Tell them you were poisoned by my wife's guard. See how much respect you get for that sloppy shit.

"Anything else?" Steve dared him.

Cold silence.

"I get that you're still raw I took the lead," Steve told him, rising from his chair. "That's why you promised Banner a position at your side that I don't think you ever meant to give him. It's also why you turned Loguidice against me, got him to give you inside intel. You got him killed by Hansen."

"That was on Hansen." Barnes couldn't produce much color in his anger, likely from the poison, but his face darkened enough for Steve to see that he was really getting to him. "He knifed me, betrayed orders."

Like my wife's guard knifed you? A woman?

"You all know why, right?" Steve walked around the table even though Dyson had advised him against it. But he liked to pace when he talked. "Hansen and Neal took Dyson which I think was your plan. Right? They were supposed to draw me out, finish me off."

Thor listened intently to the exchange, not as amused as his brother seemed. No, he was dead serious and Steve had him on the hook.

"Hansen decided to lure my wife out instead," Steve told them. "Shot Loguidice in the face. What did you promise Neal for turning on me anyway?"

Barnes' smile didn't reach his eyes. "I didn't have to promise either of them much at all."

"The point is," Steve went on, "that you couldn't even control Hansen. Your own man. And you think you'd make a better leader of these families than me?"

Barnes was out of his chair, ready to lunge at Steve. Killmonger struggled to hold onto him. 

Steve chuckled, watching the scene he'd created. Around the table, Tony and Sam watched passively, the Odinsons were attentive. Dyson looked proud and that was everything to him in that moment.

"Are you really the one leading your family, Rogers?" Barnes yelled. "Because all the nasty little presents you sent me just didn't seem like your style."

"What are you implying?" Thor asked him.

"Word has it Rogers got shot that day," Barnes said to the room. "After that, I got some none-to-subtle reminders of the bad blood between us. But they weren't his style at all. I think he got shot and he's struggling. I think Mrs. Rogers had a hand in this."

Tony's gaze moved from Barnes to Steve, almost comical interest so plain on his face.

"You're so fascinated with my wife, aren't you?" Steve said. "Why don't you tell them all of it?"

Tell them that you were bested by a woman and let's be done with it.

"Wait," Loki said with an artificial calm that didn't match the sheer glee in his eyes at the scene he was witnessing."Not to be indelicate, but isn't Mrs. Rogers your half-sister, Barnes?"

If looks could kill, Loki would have been dead on the floor. Steve had a hard time not laughing at that.

"She's not my anything," Barnes hissed, still struggling in Killmonger's hold. "She's an evil fucking bitch that you'll regret marrying one day, Rogers! I'd watch my back if I were you! Remember what her mother did to my family?"

"I thought she was a ballerina," Tony chimed in. "Huh."

Loki laughed out loud as Barnes managed to shake off his man's hold and charged at Steve. Scott and another of Steve's men caught him first. That didn't stop Steve from approaching, getting up in his enemy's face.

"You got shot, didn't you?" Barnes demanded.

"If I got shot," Steve said, "why are you the one who looks physically weak right now? Something you want to tell us?"

Steve could have shamed him there. He could have told the entire room what really happened to Barnes. But considering what Barnes had just shouted to the room about his wife, it was best to draw no more attention to her.

"I'm the head of these families, Barnes," Steve said in a calmer tone. "I won't tolerate any other challenges to this position."

The warning was clear, the room quiet now. Shoving Scott to the side, Killmonger took Barnes' arm to take control of the situation. Barnes' had broken out in a sweat, his face unnaturally pale and he was struggling to breathe.

"We understand," Killmonger said to Steve, struggling to keep his boss up because he looked ready to pass out. 

Steve tipped his head towards the conference room door, giving his consent for Killmonger to get him out of there. Zemo, looking more than a little alarmed, followed them out.

The tone of the meeting was much calmer with their departure, tension thick in the air. Even Thor had nothing else to say as Steve went over his plans for the families moving forward. When the meeting dismissed, Steve lingered until it was only him and Dyson, Scott and another soldier outside the door.

"You made the statement," Dyson told him. "That means if Barnes so much as breathes wrong, you know what you have to do."

Steve nodded. He would have to take Barnes and his family out, ensuring nothing was left.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," Steve told him.

Dyson nodded. "Still, it was a good meeting. It set the right tone."

Steve nodded but inside, he was elated. Dyson approved of the way the meeting was handled, how he dealt with Barnes. It was a new start, it was everything.

He couldn't wait to tell you about it.

When Yelena didn't answer your question, you glanced her way. 

She was looking out the window. "The meeting couldn't be over yet," she said.

Was someone leaving?

Getting up, you walked to the window. Your first instinct was stand back and not make it obvious you were watching.

But wasn't this your house? You could stand in the window if you wanted to.

So you did. And sure enough, one sleek black luxury sedan was moving in the circular drive. It startled you when it stopped in line-of-sight from your window. The rear passenger window powered down and Buck Barnes was staring out that window in your direction. At you.

After a moment, the car started moving and the window went back up. You shivered at what the simple gesture meant for your future. The meeting only started fifteen minutes ago. That wasn't a good sign. At least no one else seemed to be leaving.

I'll get you!

 Bucky Barnes' threat ran through your mind as you watched his car drive away.

A/N: There's a marathon smut scene coming next and it was either shorten it and tack it onto this chapter or make it a chapter on its own so... Very soon. Thank you!

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