#fic: In bed with the mob

[alectoperdita]

Hoho, spontaneous ask!

Seto and Katsuya (mob version) are so devoted, possessive, almost worshipful in Jou's case (🥰) but they both are clearly partially tied up in nostalgia/romaticism over their past together.

Which made me wonder, what behaviors/habits/etc are they ignoring or rosetinted-glasses-overlooking in the other that they would otherwise be put off by? Petty or significant ig hehe

I think the biggest one they're both Actively Ignoring is the fact Katsuya is a current and active criminal. Or if he's not directly breaking the law, he's knowingly facilitating it at Mega because there's drug dealing there. Seto may not know all the details. They both agreed the less Seto knows, the better. For Seto, it's likely a professional conflict of interest. For Katsuya, it's because he is kinda ashamed of who he is, compared to Seto. If it were anyone else, that kind of small-time criminal would be a dealbreaker for Seto.

This isn't to suggest that Seto only dates the most law-abiding and upstanding citizen. He doesn't. (I haven't fleshed out the details but I have the feeling Seto's exes aren't the nicest people, probably a bit insufferable lol). He's morally gray, or at least comfortably self-interested. But there's a world of difference between being with a possible white-collar criminal (because who in the corporate world isn't some shade of that once you go high enough on the ladder) and someone who deals drugs/loansharks.

Instead, they are both very much Ignoring all the complications that might arise from Katsuya's job/position (because it's not like Katsuya gets to just leave the yakuza either) and everything is Okay as long as Katsuya doesn't get caught or get in trouble otherwise.

As for Katsuya re: Seto, that's harder for me to put my finger on. The main one might be Seto's general inaccessibility in his day-to-day life. Katsuya's not dated-dated many people (having been in prison for so long recently hasn't helped) but his numerous flings before and after prison were often people that ran adjacent to the circles he's already in. At least the women. Katsuya's gay flings are shorter-lived and often one-night stands picked up in areas of the city where he's not likely to run into familiar faces (on account of being in the closet). Seto is the only man he's meaningfully dated in years, so that really skews Katsuya's sense of what he wants in a relationship with another man.

Otherwise, they share many of the same vices: smoking and heavy drinking. So hard to fault the other person for doing that if you're already doing it.

Oh! Seto's jealousy is only endearing to Katsuya because it's Seto. Otherwise, Katsuya might find it clingy or offputting from another person.

I hope that makes sense. 😂

[glowingsand]

mob my son *explodes*

[obstinaterixatrix]

Do u know any good mob psycho 100 fanfics?? Or authors??

well obviously my sister but I’m guessing you’re the same anon so 1) you already know her fics 2) you want different recs from what’s on her list (some of them being fics I rec’d to her lol). recs will skew heavily seri/rei and I’m just going through my bookmarks so it’s gonna be most recently read to oldest read. also seconding sister’s recs of bobmoss and crookedturtle. but I’ll add a fic from each anyway because I already wrote something for one while I was drafting this (oops)

Recollection by CowardlyBean

This is the journal of missing 31 year old Reigen Arataka, distributed with permission from friends and family. The version presented in this document has been kindly edited with added commentary by a loyal customer of his. -Editor’s Note

gen, experimental and in progress at 14k so definitely deserves more love than it’s getting. inspired by house of leaves; as the summary says, it’s some rando writing annotations about reigen’s journal, but Something Weird Is Going On. the 4th chapter updated so I actually need to catch up. also, sister rec’d this fic to me

Like Acid Reflux, or Love by partingxshot

Dating Reigen is like dating a single dad—only with more children, weirder scruples, and an extreme ruthlessness vis-à-vis group takoyaki discounts. He's not hot enough for this.

OR: "Me, You and Steve" by Garfunkel and Oates but with fifteen million teenagers.

OR: Outsider POV exploring Reigen’s dedication to his gaggle of bizarre children through an ill-fated dating attempt.

OR: Serizawa gets bruxism.

gen(/pre-relationship seri/rei), oneshot, 7k. oc/reigen breakup lmao. extremely funny concept, extremely good execution

Dream Dial by Alakazamboni

For the better part of nine years, Arataka has proudly worked in customer service at a behemoth of a company. At least, that's what he remembers, but a strange illness and a mysterious caller keeps trying to convince him otherwise. It doesn't help that this caller has the power to distort reality.

seri/rei, in progress, 16k. great uncanny atmosphere, and also reigen is trapped in time prison as a miserable office worker. hasn’t been updated for a while but read it anyway, the stoping point is fine

What We Make by crookedturtle

Reigen and Tome are kidnapped from the Spirits and Such office to be used as leverage against Mob. They have two goals: to contact the outside world, and keep each other safe. In doing so they engage in a dangerous game of lies and manipulation with their captors—a game with potentially deadly consequences.

gen (bg seri/rei), complete, 36k. Good for whump and high stakes interpersonal maneuvering & drama. I liked how the story extends beyond rescue and goes into how everyone navigates the fallout

Man's Best Friend by bobmoss

A cursed dog gets left at Spirits and Such. Anyone who pets it is doomed to die a horrible death.

Reigen, of course, pets it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. funny and cute and sweet :) there’s a very charming tentative & tender vibe

heart line by ruthwrites

It doesn’t really matter, he reminds himself. He’s making a change, just like all of Reigen’s clients. What’s on his hands isn’t set in stone. He just has to make sure Reigen doesn’t see it— even if it might feel nice to have that steady attention, Reigen’s hands that are so much nicer than Serizawa’s folding around his.

(or: Reigen starts offering palm readings as a service, leading to Serizawa having to confront his feelings for his boss.)

seri/rei, oneshot, 6k. getting together fluff, a fun light read that also highlights serizawa’s insecurities—the internal narration has good character voice

If you won't believe me when I say it, believe me when I don't by deathdefied

Two years after Reigen invited Serizawa to work for him, he still can't quite categorize his feelings for his coworker. Instead of actually dealing with those feelings like an adult and talking to his friend, he decided to get really paranoid and overthink everything Serizawa does.

seri/rei, complete, 26k. reigen drives himself nuts lmao

Obvious by skeilig

Tome’s perspective on Reigen and Serizawa’s developing relationship.

gen (but about seri/rei), oneshot, 3k. I like outsider perspective getting together fics, especially when the perspective character is like ‘I’m actually not invested in this except when it affects me directly’

Cover Me by flecksofpoppy

Reigen’s shadow seems longer as the days move forward, more solitary. The cuts on his face heal and the ache in his bones go away, but a new sting replaces it. It’s loneliness, the thing he had managed to avoid ever since a primary school-aged kid who could make cups float stumbled into his office so many years ago.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. getting together fic that shows off a little of reigen’s gloomier side, it’s cute

loved you just a little too much by shcherbatskayas

You learn how to let go.

(It doesn't come naturally.)

gen(ish), oneshot, 2k. 2nd person character study of serizawa’s relationship with touichiro, I liked the ambivalence; effectively captures development over time with a relatively short wordcount.

offering genuine help with genuine results by suitablyskippy

“The curse was pretty clear on me not telling lies,” concedes Reigen. “It was pretty clear on me telling the truth. But,” as he lifts one finger, already sliding into the same educational tone he generally uses for imparting wisdom to Mob about life and love and the overall holistic benefits of making sure he’s always available for unexpected overtime work on weekends, “telling the truth isn’t necessarily the same as being honest, is it?”

“You’re the professional liar,” says Dimple. “You tell me.”

(Being cursed to only tell the truth and being cursed with Dimple as an employee are pretty much equally bad, as far as Reigen's stress levels are concerned.)

gen, oneshot, 2k. the tags include friends with no benefits whatsoever, which is very apt. Very funny to have reigen and dimple be petty and shady

a slightly more miraculous miracle by suitablyskippy

“Rumour has it that something impossible’s happened. Something that could never have happened. That shouldn’t have been able to happen.” In a single slick move Mezato produces a tiny voice recorder from an inside pocket, flips it open and active, and holds it up before Mob’s mouth to ask him, in a tone of devastating intensity: “Do you know anything about… a miracle, Mob-kun?”

Mob doesn’t hesitate. “We had maths homework to hand in,” he says. “But now we don’t have to. We don’t even have to go to the lesson.”

(The sun is shining, the birds are singing, Salt Middle School has been closed by an unexplained miracle, and the only thing wrong in Spice City is the fact that nothing is even slightly wrong at all.)

teru/mob, incomplete, 55k. for the most part I haven’t been repeating authors on this list, but listen. listen to me. I need you to listen. it is extremely unlikely for this fic to ever be completed. but hark, lest this sad probability turn you away and leave you dispassionately scrolling to the next fic, I need you (you specifically) to know that if I were in the same room as you, I would be wrestling the phone/mouse/trackpad/touchscreen/etc from your hands and furiously clicking the link. when I bookmarked this fic in 2017 I described it as having “some breathtakingly sensical prose and the funniest misunderstandings I’ve ever read”. trust me from seven years ago. open your heart.

skylight by inexhaustible

unconnected snapshots in what might, in some worlds, be something a little like recovery.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. character study that nails the tension of an escalating romantic atmosphere.

come on, come on, come over (take it off your shoulder) by mortarsmayfall

Reigen's free hand cradles Serizawa's head, curled under his ear just so to turn it for a better angle. He feels his pulse pound under Reigen's fingers, shivers just the slightest bit. If Reigen notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. when I first read this I saved it as a private bookmark because I was so embarrassed by the sheer intimacy of haircuts with severely unresolved sexual tension. I’m guessing this was written after studio bones gave us reigen cutting serizawa’s hair. crumbs no more; for once we had a feast to enjoy. short & sweet getting together fic

Off-White by reigreitz

Some habits are tells.

seri/rei, oneshot, 1k. snapshots of pre-relationship and established relationship scenes, I’m quite fond of it. on my first reading I’m pretty sure I remember not paying attention to the habit piece at all (even with it being right in the summary) so at the last scene I was hit by the double whammy of ‘oh so that was what serizawa was reacting to’ and ‘AW… THAT’S SWEET…’; I think the fic does a great job of hiding/not acknowledging certain things the perspective character knows and is reacting to, which makes it fun to reread and pinpoint what exactly serizawa’s previously more opaque train of thought was. like, it’s the same stuff, but you get to read into more nuance.

the seven stages of falling in love by reigen arataka by matsunoble

You suppose one of the weirdest times to realize you've fallen deeply and irrevocably in love is when it's fuck o'clock in the morning and you're blearily checking your fridge for leftover curry.

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. I was quite taken by the mundane (and sometimes unappealing) descriptions of love, and I like when serizawa has the upper hand

Mr. Psychic by beefstatic

Looks like trouble in Spice City...

seri/rei, oneshot, 4k. Serizawa Acts Like An Intimidating Bodyguard During Tense/Shady Situations. fun emphasis on that potential aspect of his character, I like how it’s done.

Late by hamlingo

For the first few days after hiring Serizawa, Reigen couldn’t help but be alarmed when the door opened at eight o’clock sharp in the mornings. He got used to it eventually, and in a month’s time he was more surprised when the door didn’t creak open right on time.

This was one of those mornings.

seri/rei, oneshot, 2k. this is actually among the first seri/rei fics I bookmarked so I can say with relative certainty that on may 20th 2017 I decided that maybe seri/rei was not just a joke of me indulging my own spurious unreasonable whims. fun character study and has that enjoyable tension of pleasant pre-relationship uncertainty.

Quiet Talks by krypkaktus

At some point, Reigen cutting his hair twice a month had turned into a mutual habit.

seri/rei, oneshot, 600 words. another charming snapshot of pre-relationship uncertainty, pleasantly embarrassing unresolved romantic tension.

walk in by ruthwrites

It was then he realized that the reason Reigen and Serizawa were standing so close was because they were kissing.

Mob was not really sure what to do with that information.

(or: mob leaves something at the office, comes back, and walks into something he wasn't supposed to)

seri/rei, oneshot, 3k. an extremely popular fic for extremely valid reasons, this is a shining example of the outsider POV shipfic where the perspective character is like. I’m 14 and did not want to see you guys kissing. and the couple is like. we also did not want you to see us kissing, this is excruciatingly awkward.

tomorrow isn't always another day by suitablyskippy

It’s like Reigen’s been waiting for the question. He stops dead on the pavement, grips Mob by the shoulders, and stares down into his eyes with an expression as haunted as though every ghost the pair of them has ever exorcised has taken up residence behind it. “Mob,” he says. “Mob,” he says again. “Tell me, Mob. Look at me and tell me. Tell me truthfully. Do I look cursed to you?”

Mob looks at him, and tells him truthfully. “No.”

“Well, you didn’t look very long,” says Reigen. “Let’s just stand here for a moment, like so, and you can have another look, a nice long look, and really think about it...”

(There's nothing strange about being called back to exorcise the same haunted photocopier six days in a row. It must just be a very haunted photocopier.)

gen, oneshot, 18k. I didn’t mean to rec the same author three (3) times but this is also one of my top faves. extremely funny time prison where nobody is on the same page ever.

space voyage by Anonymous

Tome Kurata is slightly famous—or notorious, more like—for being... a weirdo, to put it simply. She's definitely a person of interest. Just not exactly in a newsworthy way, which is obviously the only way that matters.

mezato/tome, oneshot, 1k. charming pre-relationship contention, they’re the same type of self-absorbed and tunnel vision (affectionate)

I was thinking of not writing up recs for sister’s fics but since one author got three (3) fics on the list I’m gonna also put 3 of my fave fics of sister’s

Reigen's Comprehensive Fool-Proof Guide on How Not To Be Next Door Neighbors With Your Employee (because that'd just be creepy) by MalkyTop

Reigen hires Serizawa and they somehow end up as roommates.

seri/rei, complete, 17k. a fic sister wrote for ✨ME✨ that shows off reigen’s neuroticism and his decidedly not-normal attempts to come across as Extremely Normal, The Most Normal Man Alive. there are so many comedic setups and payoffs. there are so many shenanigans. reigen gets frog-boiled into romance. actually, I drop that term a lot but I’m not sure it’s a common enough to intuitively understand. it refers to the boiling frog metaphor

If At First You Don't Succeed, Find a Loophole by MalkyTop

Reigen keeps dying; Serizawa keeps trying to save him.

seri/rei, complete, 18k. sister was insane for this because she trapped all of her readers AND herself in time prison by releasing one chapter a day. it was really funny to witness because I was the only person not in time prison by virtue of editing privilege. while we were watching mondays: see you next week (an office time loop movie), sister was saying she was impressed at how effective/efficient the movie was at picking which scenes to repeat. this is to say, as someone who notices these details, sister was very intentional about when things changed and how things changed from the perspective of a character completely unaware of time prison. also, the emotional momentum is extremely good, I loved reading serizawa’s increasing desperation from reigen’s context-less perspective.

in absentia* by MalkyTop

After what was supposed to be a routine exorcism, Reigen wakes up in the wrong body.

serirei, complete, 26k. slowburn bodyswap with mystery and intrigue. a solid casefic! I can be biased and right. there are metanarrative elements that I find fun and that, in my opinion, highlights how sister did in fact get a degree in philosophy. there’s also some fun subtle and messy characterization notes, like when serizawa asks reigen not to cook for him. it’s hard to talk about what I like about this fic without giving away a lot of specifics, so go read it.

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@gutsby

⭒ Wedded Bliss

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

@samthemarvelfan

⭒ Bad Romance

In Brooklyn, everyone knows the unwritten rule: you don’t cross James Barnes. When you return after nearly half a decade, things are anything but the same. After the murder of your Uncle, you begin to learn that no one is who they say they are, and that you may have accidentally given your heart to a mobster; The White Wolf of Brooklyn. More dangerous than that, he’s given you his.

@anonymityisfunwriter

⭒ Two Sides of the Same Coin

⭒ You're Losing Me

Your fairytale ending is crumbling before your eyes. You don't know how to love someone who can't tell you're dying. You fear you're fading away, begging him to do someone, say something, choose something. You fear he won't be able to resuscitate you this time. This time, he's losing you.

⭒ Alone Together

It was always been you and Bucky, alone together, you'd say. But suddenly, you're just alone.

⭒ Uptown Girl and the Brooklyn Boy

Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

@pellucid-constellations

⭒ For the Love of the Game

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 

@barnesafterglow

⭒ Friday (I'm In Love)

every day you love bucky. every friday he pretends to love you too

@sinner-as-saint

⭒ Tempestuous

With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it? 

⭒ Ruin

You work at a café owned by your family, close to your uni. And most of your days are pretty laid back and calm, but that is until you catch the eye of the mob boss. Your cute skirts and soft sweaters make him weak. Your innocence captivates him. And he wants you, badly. He wants you in his bed, wants his hand under those cute little skirts… he wants to ruin you. 

⭒ A Sweeter Place

Years after a messy break-up, and now seeking stability, infamous mob boss James Buchanan Barnes finds himself reunited with an old flame of his. Instant guilt and regret wash over him when he finds out that his reckless ways back then, changed an innocent girl’s life forever. 

⭒ You're No Saint

Steve and Bucky have been friends since they were young boys. They are inseparable, so naturally when you married Steve you were aware that Bucky came along with him. Every event, every vacation, even as the best man at your wedding - Bucky was always there, alongside you and Steve. He was one of your best friends as well, so you’ve never thought of him in a sexual way, ever. That is until one certain night, when you see something you’re not supposed to and you like it a little too much. You deny your desire towards Bucky, but Steve knows you better than anyone. He knows what you want and need, and he’s determined to fulfil your fantasy; because what his wife wants, she gets. 

⭒ Run For Your Life

He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. 

⭒ All Yours

One of your students confess their feelings for you and things get interesting... 

@mellowsaturns  

⭒ In Losing Grip, on Sinking Ships

when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

⭒ All to Myself

after bucky finds out why you've been acting up ever since his company's party, he teaches you a lesson and remind you that you're the only one for him

@renxzs

⭒ Redemancy

Maybe it was a bit naive to think moving in with your best friend and long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, was going to be some smooth road that led to an admittance of mutual feelings for one another and a happily-ever-after ending, wrapped up nicely in a bow. Naive indeed; especially when you have to consider the fact that Bucky is the biggest womanizer you know.

@cryptidcasanova

⭒ My Devotion

The one where Bucky doesn’t take your breakup well.

⭒ Loverboy

It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

@subwaysurf45

⭒ She's Not Mad

Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 

@adrinktostopyourthirst

⭒ Sniper

Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

⭒ Three Hundred

Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Variant

The chaos of the multiverse is quite literally holding up a mirror to Bucky. Turns out, it's very easy to get under someone's skin when you have a universal connection to them.

⭒ Underground

The Underground is the last way for you to survive whatever is left of the world after the Blip. Natasha introduces you to the Winter Soldier whose wing you're under until you find your way around. He's a stoic Underground fighter and you're... useless.

⭒ One Shot

Bucky and you have a hard time staying away from each other. And though you try to push him away, every time he finds you again, the universe finds a new way to pull you apart.

⭒ Satisfied

Drunk sex with Bucky.

@thenhewaswrongaboutme

⭒ Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes

Bucky has to spend six months locked up with a stranger.

⭒ Time Out

Need me a boy who is so needy and whiny when he cums inside for who knows how many times, and yet he still begs as soon as he's done "please, please again? I'll be good, I-I swear, I just need it so bad, just one more baby I promise–"

@bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

⭒ After All This Time

impending danger puts you and your ex, Bucky, in close quarters.

⭒ Why Are You At The Wake?

Bucky sits by your hospital bed, anxious for you to finally open your eyes. He’s got to set the record straight, and apologize for what he said before you got hurt.

⭒ The Rain Is Always Gonna Come If You're Standing With Me

A hurtful article in a low-budget gossip magazine throws your relationship with Bucky for a loop.

⭒ I Can Go Anywhere I Want, Just Not Home

Bucky doesn't talk to you anymore, and he's less than enthusiastic when he runs into you out of the blue. But when he calls from a strange phone number, the puzzle pieces fall together.

@noceurous

⭒ Get You Back

You hated that you loved Bucky Barnes, and he loved that you could not hate him.

@violentdelightsandviolentends

⭒ Honey Girl

The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

@notafunkiller

⭒ You Were Just Mine Yesterday

It's been a while since your break up with Bucky happened, but you're still not over him. You try to move on, go out, and have fun with your friend, Steve, but you end up in the same bar you two went to often. It also just happens that Bucky is there too, with Natasha by his side. It doesn't take long for you two to end up getting into old habits.

⭒ Out Of Style

A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

@queers-gambit

⭒ Curiousity Killed The Cat

after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

@cherryblossom-heart

⭒ I Loved You Once

Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.

@rookthorne

⭒ Purity

Softness was a trait you unwittingly carried - the wings of a dove taking you higher and higher, elevating you in the eyes of the devil. And that devil did not want to wait any longer. It was time to collect.

⭒ His Girls

Cars were all the same to you — classics, imports, you name it, they were all the same. Well, they were, until you were nonetheless forced to visit your local mechanic and saw the man that would pique your interest in not only every single make and model of classic car, but his charming smile; the air of righteous arrogance that flowed from his tattoos, and that damned cheeky glint in his bright eyes.

⭒ Hollywood Boulevard

All it took was one night, one song - hell, one note - and you were gone for him, hook, line, and sinker. Turbulent times lay ahead, but in the afterglow of ecstasy, forced to feel emotions in such intensity for someone you’d never expect, you couldn't help but follow him anyway - he was irresistible, after all.

@boxofbonesfic

⭒ You're Gonna Give Me Six

@gogolucky13

⭒ Mean It

You and Bucky get trapped overnight in the safe house after a mission. Everything should be okay, except he's your ex and thanks to his carelessness, the situation gets a little more complicated.

@intrepidacious

⭒ Almost Believing

You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

@buckybarnesdiaries

⭒ Please

Bucky needed to be spoiled.

@buckys-darling

⭒ Face The Sun

To ensure the prosperity of their two kingdoms, a determined Princess and reluctant King are to be wed. She is willing to commit, but he can’t seem to let his lover go. 

⭒ Will You Love Me Tomorrow?

You and Bucky are friends who fuck and nothing more. That’s what you’ll keep telling yourself, at least.

⭒ Electric

Flirtation has a different meaning with Bucky, and his patience doesn't last long when it comes to you.

@straywords

⭒ Kiss It Better

You’re not entirely sure your boss with the staring problem even likes you, but you’re determined to do your job either way.

@little-miss-dilf-lover

⭒ Fifteen Minutes

@bucksfucks

⭒ The Feeling's Mutual

the amount of times you and bucky have seen each other masturbating is alarmingly high. might as well do it together.

@ellemj

⭒ Bigger Than He Was

Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

⭒ Strawberries

Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

⭒ Breathe

Bucky hates the way you take unnecessary risks in the field, the way you're so mesmerizing and yet so hard to work with, and he especially hates the way you get on your knees for him during a dangerous mission. Finding out how pretty you look on your knees is the last thing he needs.

⭒ Flustered, part 2

Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.

⭒ Inevitable

While on a mission with Sam, John Walker, and Bucky, you're the only person exposed to a sex pollen. Bucky sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else take care of you.

⭒ Blurred Lines

When choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you.

@viixenvi

⭒ Red

You work at a strip club and Bucky is a regular. Tonight he specifically asks for you in a private room. You never thought he'd love the color red on you so much.

@ro-is-struggling

⭒ Self Care

Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.

@kinanabinks

⭒ Silent Girl

After a traumatizing event, you aren’t the friendliest or most talkative of people. Bucky understands, and in turn becomes the one person you soften your hard exterior for.

@angrythingstarlight

⭒ Roommate Bucky

@wkemeup

⭒ Cold, Cold Water

While on a stakeout in the heart of Russia, Bucky learns that touch can bring something more than pain and he will willingly give himself over to the ice if it means keeping you alive.

⭒ Drunk On You

Bucky has always been nervous around you. When he’s tasked with caring for you after a night of heavy drinking and suddenly you’re kissing him, Bucky doesn’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly want him sober, right?

⭒ Honey and Chamomile

Four cups of tea, four distinct moments in time, and each pulls you in closer beyond the walls surrounding Bucky’s heart.

⭒ Suburbia

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

⭒ Eclipse

When a mission leaves you empty and broken, Bucky is determined to heal the wounds that linger deeper than the cuts on the surface. 

⭒ Back to Bourbon Street

When you’re badly injured on a mission, Bucky works desperately to keep you alive. Only, it might not be enough. 

@espinosaurusrexex

⭒ Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers

Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...

@navybrat817

⭒ Reconnect

Bucky Barnes is your best friend. You're also in love with him. After his recent breakup, the two of you get a chance to reconnect during a weeklong vacation together. Is it long enough to get your happy ending?

@dyspneagrime (wattpad & ao3)

⭒ No Privacy

You're stuck on a mission that never seems to end, in a completely destroyed studio apartment, with absolutely no privacy. And no privacy means- you haven't cum the whole time. Thing is, neither has the ancient, half-cyborg, psychopathic, hobo-lookin' asshole that you've been partnered up with.

⭒ Little Wing

The year is 1973. All Dove Rogers wanted was a relaxing summer. Just one last hoorah before being thrust into the adult life. Yet everything shifts when her new houseguest and long standing enemy- Bucky Barnes, arrives. In the thick of sun-kissed relaxation, the two of them are forced to face the awakening and burning desire growing between them.

⭒ Possessed

Margaret Everlee is a meek little thing. Living her life as a struggling artist in New York, trying to find her place in the world. That is until the formidable CEO with a dark past, James Barnes sets his sights on her. His infatuation is instantaneous, becoming a man obsessed with making her his own little doll.

@stardustdreams-andcaffeine

⭒ The Thin Line

Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not, considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.

@buckybabesonly

⭒ Wanna Be Yours

You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.

@lovelybucky1

⭒ Flirting and Football

@kurogxrix

⭒ Drunkenly In Love

you and Bucky ‘accidentally’ get married after a drunken game of truth or dare with the avengers.

@stxrvel

⭒ Hate Is A Strong Word

you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

@kikixreverie

⭒ Its Called: Freefall

Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.

[prettyfastcars]

the way you bend, the way you break - part 2 | Mob!Lando

Read part 1 here 

Summary: Lando finally has all that he wanted, all that belonged to him in the first place. But there’s always room for trouble, even in paradise. And it’s up to him to fix it all and do whatever it takes to make sure that if he can’t have you then… no one can. 

Themes: pregnant!reader, mob!lando, fluff, slight angst, smut, very mild gun kink, gaslighting, dark!lando, possessive!lando

a/n: come get y’all juice [throws this fic at you and runs away]

He woke up to something warm pressing into the side of his body. 

Snuggled up to him, so close like you were trying to find a way to hide under his skin. He smiled when he looked down and found you asleep, wrapped in your blanket and still seeking his warmth. 

He instinctively wrapped his arms around you, leaning into you as much as he could. He couldn’t exactly press his body completely against yours anymore because the bump got in the way. 

It had been two months since you two had left that mansion and that little town. And your bump was properly visible now. 

Speaking of the bump… He couldn’t resist shifting down to kiss it. “Morning, little one.” He whispered against it. The warmth of your skin was comforting so he nuzzled it and sighed. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you.” 

Then he felt gentle fingers running through his hair. He gave your bump one last kiss before he looked up and found you smiling down at him. 

“Hi,” You whispered, playing with his ridiculously soft, curly hair. 

“Morning, mama.” He reached up and kissed your face until you giggled and told him to back off because his stubble hurt. “Oh it hurts?” He kissed his way down your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, caressing you through the satin PJ set you wore before he began unbuttoning the shirt and lowering the shorts. 

He kissed his way down until he settled in between your legs, your body was still warm – hot rather – from being under the blanket and he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into the softness of your thighs as he parted them, bringing his mouth closer to where he desperately wanted to be. 

Kissing you through the thin excuse of an underwear you had on, he asked, “Is it still hurting?” He purposely let his stubble rub against your inner thighs, making you whine and moan as you squirmed under him. “Doesn’t look like it’s hurting.” He teased. 

Your fingers found their way into his hair and you tugged on it to shut him up. He smirked as he went along, letting you guide his mouth to where you wanted him. He licked, and sucked and teased until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you wide open for his mouth and preventing you from moving as he pinned your hips and legs down on the bed as he ate you out. 

This. This right here was his dream. Waking up next to his woman and then rolling over to taste her like she was there only for him to taste. Lando only smiled against your wet folds the louder your moans got. These peaceful mornings were what he lived for. 

But not everyday these past few months have been this peaceful. He still remembered the couple of days following the plane ride here… 

When you woke up on the plane, you immediately started panicking. 

“Baby, it’s okay. We’re just–,” 

“You had no right.” Were the first words you said to him. 

And it pissed him off. “Oh I didn’t? You’re mine, I have every right to do what I think is good for you. And our baby.” 

And then you argued. Big time. You said just the right things to make him mad and he acted like the overbearing, possessive man he was. The only way to get you to listen to him was to bend you over the nearest surface, in this case the bathroom sink, and fuck some sense into you. 

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was a foggy mess as he started rocking into you, making your front bump against the counter each time he fucked into you. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 

“I hate you so much right now…” you whispered, even as your walls clenched around him, unable to hide just how much you wanted him. 

His thrusts were animalistic, and rough. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it, tipping your head back so you could see your reflections in the mirror. “I said tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded menacing as he stared deep into your eyes through the mirror. 

You hated him. You hated how good he looked with that look on his face. His lips parted as his hips moved, burying his cock into you each time. You hated how good it felt to be bent over in front of him, all for him to use. 

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours,” You whispered, gritting your teeth, losing this round. But vowing to not forgive him easily. 

You continued watching him through the mirror. He looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, veins on his muscular neck prominent, eyes closed, his lips parted as groans escaped his lips. With that frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 

“You better remember that, baby.” He growled. “You are mine. I love you, and I know how to care for you. So don’t fucking tell me what to do when it comes to you and our kid. You hear me?” 

You nodded despite the death stare you sent his way, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

And when your walls clenched violently around him. 

“You’re gonna cum for me, mama? Hmm?” He cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. 

Seeing you didn’t reply, he tilted your head to the side a little. You couldn’t see his reflection anymore, not as he leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did, for a moment you forgot all about your anger. 

“Come for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonisingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him as you came, hard.

He did too, right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, as your body shook against the counter. He gathered you up in his arms again, kissing you as your body shivered and trembled. “I love you. I’m doing this for us, baby.” 

After you landed, he drove you to another one of his houses – though he called this one his main house – which was equally as grand as the one you used to work in. Once he showed you to your shared bedroom, you went straight for a nice, warm, long shower. 

And after that, you didn’t speak to Lando for two whole weeks. 

He tried everything. Sulked, apologised, begged, tried to buy you ridiculous things, begged some more. And it took two weeks of severe grovelling for you to finally accept his apology. 

He was glad you didn’t stay mad for too long. Although those two weeks of silent treatment from you hurt even more than the time he’d been shot twice during a crossfire. 

But he had you now, under him and squirming, moaning in pleasure just how he liked it. And this was perfect. His tongue didn’t stop teasing you until you were properly spent, grinding your hips against his mouth as you calmed down after a gentle, but intense orgasm. 

He kissed along your inner thighs, which were still trembling. But then he groaned in annoyance when he looked up and couldn’t see you because of the bump. “Kid’s getting in the way already,” He murmured, kissing his way back up. “I can’t even see your face when I’m down there now.” 

You giggled at the tone he used. “And whose fault is that?” 

He nuzzled your neck again, kissing it as he held you against him. “I love you.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s time to get some breakfast in you, mama. Let’s go.” 

You sighed in bliss, savouring one last moment in bed with him before you got out of bed and went through your morning routine while he made his way downstairs. This had become a new part of your routine now – him making breakfast each morning. 

You shook your head as you showered. You couldn’t believe this was your life now. New home, new place, new doctors, new staff members who waited on you at all times during the day. You had everything one could want. People all around the house who were ready to bring you whatever you wanted. Multiple cars with chauffeurs ready to take you wherever you wanted. 

Anywhere you wanted, you thought, but not to your hometown. 

Lando didn’t like it when you even mentioned the little town you’d just left. It didn’t have much to offer, but it was still where you were born and raised. You didn’t miss it enough to want to go back and live there. No. But you did miss it enough to want to know how everyone was doing back home. 

Your friends and family. 

You’d tried bringing it up just a few weeks ago… 

“Maybe I should go back once.” 

“What for?” He pulled you against him, arms wrapping around you, kissing your forehead as you both stood on the balcony just outside your bedroom, watching the sun rise. 

“Just to say goodbye properly. I… maybe they’d understand why–,” 

His arms tightened around you before he reached up to cup your face in his large, warm hands. “They won’t.” The finality in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “If they wanted to talk to you they would’ve reached out by now, don’t you think?” 

Lando knew full well that he was leaving out the part where he threatened your friends and family to never reach out to you if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders. He had people watching them at all times. He wasn’t taking any risks. You were his now, and no one was gonna take you away from him. 

That ended that conversation. And you never brought it up again. 

You did think about it even now as you got ready for the day before making your way downstairs. Maybe, you thought, you could check up on them without physically going there. 

– 

A couple of days later, Lando came home after a particularly annoying day and all he wanted was a soothing hug from you, a couple of kisses, and maybe you’d let him bury his face between your thighs again. 

But he walked into the house and immediately, he could tell something was wrong. The guards were all in their places, armed as usual. So that calmed him down a little. Yet, a gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. 

As he made his way up the stairs, he took his phone out and checked the security cameras. Everything was fine outside, the guards walked around on alert as per usual. Then he checked the cams inside his home, trying to find you. And he frowned as he saw you in the corner of his library, typing furiously on the keyboard as your eyes remained glued to the screen of his computer. 

Weird. It was rather late, you should’ve been in bed. He tried zooming in to see what was displayed on the screen but he couldn’t see it. Damn. He should get new, better cameras. 

But without wasting any more time, and seeking to soothe that feeling in his gut, he rushed towards the library. And his heart sank as he kept an eye on the security cam footage while he approached the library. 

He watched how you visibly tensed up the moment he was sure you could hear his footsteps approaching. He watched how you clicked around in panic, typing even faster the closer he got to the library doors. 

He put his phone back in his pocket the moment he pushed the doors open and stepped into the room, finding you at his desk. The screen illuminated only your face while the rest of the room remained fairly dark. 

“Hi!” You said, sounding a little too cheerful. Sounding fake. Fake smile, fake happiness upon seeing him when he knew damn well you were just frowning right before he walked into the room. 

He hated it. The mask you put on just to make everything seem normal. He clenched his jaw before he asked, as calmly as he could, “What are you doing? It’s late, baby. Let’s go to bed.” 

“Yeah,” You gathered the blanket you had wrapped around you. “I was just looking into colour palettes. For the nursery, remember?” 

He nodded slowly, watching how you didn’t move from the desk. “Right now, though? It’s the middle of the night. And why were you in the dark?” Like you were doing something you shouldn’t. 

He noticed how you tensed up the moment he began walking towards you. He watched how you tried to discreetly move your hands towards the touchpad again. But he was quicker. 

And it only took him a moment to lean down so he could see properly, understand, and process what you’d been doing, or what you were about to do. He looked away from the screen and looked down at you. You avoided his eyes and that only pissed him off even more. 

“Care to explain this, mama?” 

Something shifted then. His tone, his demeanour, his presence – all of it getting darker. 

You looked away, sighing in defeat. “I just wanted to know.” There was no point in trying to hide that you’d been secretly emailing a friend of yours from back home. There weren’t too many emails exchanged, only a couple going back to a few days prior where you asked about the wellbeing of your parents and other friends. 

You didn’t risk texting because… that would be too easy for him to find. You couldn’t call either, he would know because his loyal guards watched each move of yours. So emails it was. You’d delete them each time. But this time it seemed you’d been caught before you could. 

“You couldn’t trust me?” He asked. Part of him was relieved that your friend had told you that all was well back there. This meant that your family was behaving like he wanted. 

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” He grabbed the back of the chair and slowly turned it so you’d have no choice but face him. “Why’d you go behind my back like this? And why lie to me?” 

You looked up at him. Piercing eyes staring down at you as the computer screen illuminated only half of his face. His hands remained on the back of the chair so he was closer now. His scent drove you insane. Damn hormones! Lately all you ever wanted to do was be close to him. His scent… it did things to you. This was unfair. 

“I just wanted to confirm that–,” 

“Why not just trust me?” 

You couldn’t help but say, “Trust you? After you kidnapped me and told me my family didn’t want anything to do with me? I’m supposed to just trust you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that but there was no going back now. 

“Kidnapped?” Lando scoffed. “Bringing you home where you belong isn’t kidnapping.” 

You sighed again. “I’m not saying I don’t want to be here with you, Lando. But I needed to make sure all was well at home.” 

“And is it?” 

You nodded sheepishly, looking up at him to find him clenching his jaw in that way that made you think of sinful things. 

Thank fuck, he thought, that your friend kept her mouth shut and didn’t give you any details about just how well things were at home. How your family and friends constantly had his men around them, keeping watch and notifying him of each of their moves. At this point, Lando knew exactly how many times your family went grocery shopping or to the park. He had his people keeping eyes on them at home, at work, following their cars – there was nothing he didn’t know about. 

“Am I not enough for you?” He asked, standing up straight so he could look more menacing as he stared down at you still sitting in front of him. 

Only his stance just made your body throb even more. He looked godly from this angle. Like some dark, tortured, tragic hero in his all black suit which fit him like a second skin. That metal chain hanging from his neck. His pretty eyes on you. You had to take a deep breath and shoo away all the filthy images that filled your head. 

You rolled your eyes at his question. “Don’t be dramatic.” 

“Dramatic?” He scoffed. “You’re reaching out to your friends, talking to people behind my back, then lying to me about it and I’m supposed to just what, do nothing?” He accused. “For now it’s emails, what if in the future some day you decide you want to leave me? Will you expect me to just stand there, not be dramatic, and do nothing?” 

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to stand up but he carefully pushed you back down on the chair. Leaning down so he was staring into your eyes, he said, “Do you want to leave me, mama? Is that what’s going on here?” 

“You’re blowing this out of pro–,” 

He cut you off by pulling his shiny, silver gun out and placing it gently on the desk. Right where you both could clearly see. Within arms’ length, but definitely closer to you. 

His voice dropped as he leaned closer, lips bruising against your cheek as he ignored your side of the argument and said, “If you are thinking of running then you better use this and make sure I’m no longer breathing before you do.” He pulled away to look at you. The proximity, the danger in the air, the inevitable tension, it made you breathless. “Because if you run, I will chase.” He whispered, “And you won’t like what I do to you when I catch you.” 

Your heart was pounding, mind racing and the filthiest of outcomes flooding your brain. Still you asked, “You think I would hurt you?” 

He smirked and he’d never looked more unhinged than he did in that moment. It scared you, about just as much as it excited you. He glanced down at his gun. “Not worth living if I can’t have you anyway.” He whispered. 

“Don’t say that.” You shook your head, finally reaching out to hold his face in your hands. “I need you. We need you.” 

That made him look down at your bump, partially visible now since your little PJ top didn’t cover all of it. He dropped to kneel in front of you, bending to kiss the bump again like he always does. 

“I’m sorry, little one,” He whispered, nuzzling the warmth of your skin. “Daddy has to be mean to mama for a bit. She’s being difficult, you see?” Then he looked up at you and said, “I don’t wanna fight.” 

“Neither do I.” You stood up this time, taking a few steps just to put some distance between you and him so you could think straight and take a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why the thought of me being connected to what used to be my home bothers you so much.” 

He slowly turned to the desk and grabbed his gun. None of that scared you. You were safe with him, you were certain of that. So you watched him. Watched how he slowly turned to you and said, “Because there’s the possibility of you leaving me and going back there.” 

You sighed in frustration. “There’s always going to be the possibility for every single thing. That’s how life works! So what, you’ll wipe the entire town out of existence? Burn it to the ground? Turn it to nothing but ash? All so I won’t even have a home to go back to if I ever leave you?” 

He gave you that same unhinged smirk from earlier. Then said, “Don’t tempt me.” 

“Lando.” You warned. 

“What?” 

“What the fuck do you want, huh?” 

He moved. 

He walked towards you and for each step he took, you took one back. Until your back met with one of the book shelves and he was right in front of you. “I’m getting tired of this conversation.” 

You spat back, “I’m getting tired of your face.” You lied. 

He chuckled, then looked down at the bump between you two, caressing it as he said, “You hear that, little one? Mama’s being a brat.” He looked up at you and said, his voice deeper now, “But don’t you worry, daddy will deal with it.” 

It all happened too quickly. Him getting your clothes off, kissing you to distract you as he walked the two of you over to the nearest couch. You bit his lower lip in annoyance till you almost drew blood, and he just chuckled before kissing you even deeper as he carefully pushed you down on the couch, hovering over you supporting himself with one hand while the other one held his gun right above your face. 

“You’re being difficult again, baby.” He murmured, gently lowering his gun and brushing the barrel against your lips, then slowly dragged it down your chin. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He dragged the tip of his gun all the way down your trembling, naked body, down your thighs and back up till he pressed it against your wet folds. He chuckled when he saw you grinding against it. “Does it feel good? Hmm?” He asked. “Does it make you feel all powerful knowing you piss me off more than anyone ever dares to and can get away with it? All because I love you too much to actually punish you? Does it, baby?” 

You frowned at him, still annoyed. “Shut the fuck up.” You didn’t stop grinding against the cold gun. You whined when he pulled it away from your skin and tossed it to the side. 

He had a mean smirk on his face, calm despite everything. You studied his handsome face for a moment. Your emotions were shifting from guilt to annoyance to lust, and your heart fluttered when he whispered, “Spread those legs for me. Show me what’s mine.” 

The crude casualness of his words would’ve surely made you blush if you weren’t dripping wet and burning with desire. And regardless of how pompous you thought he was, how authoritative and overbearing – and no matter how annoyed you were – you did just as he asked. 

You held his stare as you spread your legs so he could settle in between them. Lando eyed you with a mischievous smirk. “There’s my good girl. Now hold yourself open for me.” He said, then lowered his mouth, watching as you carefully spread your folds open for him. “Fuck…” He murmured as he kissed your knuckles. 

You couldn’t see his face – because of the bump – but his warm breath against your fingers, your wet skin, the soft touch of his fingers as he spread your wetness around, followed by his tongue, all of it had you moaning as you arched your back, leaning into his mouth even more. 

You could see his hips moving while he ate you out, grinding into the couch and for some reason that made you whine even louder. “Lando …” you whimpered. 

He smirked against your inner thighs. “Don’t you dare come just yet.” 

You whined, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. Lando smirked when he craned his neck and saw how you were struggling to keep quiet. He knew just how sensitive your body had become these days, how badly you craved his touch at all times. And right now, he noticed the way your body squirmed under him, and he knew you too well so he could tell that you were so close to coming. 

“Baby… please,” You whined, releasing your swollen lip from your teeth. Your body felt hot, and you needed to just let go and come. 

“Please what?” He taunted, shamelessly ignoring your pleas. “Is it frustrating? Wanting something so badly and having someone else just threatening to take it away? Hmm?” He slid his tongue up and down your slit, careful not to make you come and enjoying the way you growled through gritted teeth. “This is how it feels, baby. Everytime you argue and bring up that little town. The thought of you leaving me here and returning there…” He playfully bit your inner thigh. “This is exactly how it feels. Like I’m a fucking madman ready to do whatever it takes just to have what I want. Which is you next to me. Always.” 

You let out a loud moan as he kissed your throbbing clit ever so gently. “I’m sorry,” You caught yourself whispering. “I’ll… I’ll let it go. I promise. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.” You lifted yourself up on one elbow and looked down at him. He looked up at you, with his lips more pink and fuller than usual. “I want to be here, right next to you. Always.” You promised. 

He seemed proud of that. Nodding gently, he said, “See how easy that was, mama?” He kissed his way up your inner thighs again, “I love you.” He murmured, looking deep into your eyes as if daring you to not say it back. 

You couldn’t resist him. “And I love you.” You melted right under his touch as his tongue gently licked down your folds. 

His hand found yours and he laced his fingers with yours while his other hand rubbed up and down your thigh as he pushed his face further into your wet core, making you whimper in pleasure. Your legs had begun shaking just a little as he took his time and dragged his tongue up and down your slit, teasing your sensitive spots with his warm and wet tongue. 

“Please…” You moaned pathetically. 

Then heard his merciless chuckle as he pulled away, kissing his way up your body again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth eventually, making you gasp and moan. He quickly placed his fingers where his mouth had been earlier, teasing your clit before shoving two fingers inside of you and stroking your walls so slowly that you were well past caring if the guards could hear you moaning. 

He pulled away just for a moment, to quickly take his suit jacket off, then his shirt. He tossed both somewhere on the floor and bent down to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, leisurely taking his time as he unzipped his pants. 

“Please,” You whined, sliding your fingers into his soft hair. “I need you. Now.” You spoke through gritted teeth by the end, tugging at the roots of his curly hair. 

“So needy.” He murmured, loving it actually. It made his ego inflate knowing his woman needed him so badly. “I’m here, baby. “I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered as he lowered his underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard this whole time. It was a fucking miracle he was able to even wait this long. 

With a slow, steady push, he slid his cock into you. You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. Lando held back his moans and growls as he felt your warmth wrap around him so perfectly. He clenched his jaw as he relished the feeling of being inside of you, finally. 

“This what you needed, mama?” he asked, looking down at you, and gently grabbing your face, making you look up at him. 

You just stared at him with parted lips, breathing heavily. Lando smirked, pulling out just a little before pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back, your bare chest pressing against his. 

Lando leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. You whined senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you. 

He leaned down to push his face into your neck as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “Fuck…you’re mine, you hear me?” 

You nodded. 

“Only mine…” Lando quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before. “My woman,” He spoke, his voice thick and deep with lust. “Mine.” He stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. “Say it.”  

“I’m yours.” You repeated, eyes getting droopy with desire. 

Lando caressed your cheek with his knuckles, his other hand holding him up above you. He looked down at you with nothing but love and fierce adoration in his eyes. “Come for me.” 

You let the pressure build inside you, before simply letting go. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Lando kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even as you came. 

You felt your second release approaching even before you could recover from the first one. 

You felt your mind getting foggy again. His lean body hovering above you as he fucked deeper into you, as much as he could while still being careful not to hurt you – it was a new fear of his, that he would somehow hurt you during sex. “Come for me again, baby.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him. 

Your body trembled as you came for the second time, walls tightening around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well. “Fuck, baby…” His voice cracked in a way that had you clenching even harder around him. 

You were gasping for breath after that, and Lando twisted you both on your sides so you could rest for a while. He knew all too well that you had the habit of drifting off into deep sleep right after some good sex. 

Kissing your forehead, he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ll get us in bed in a while, okay?” 

You nodded, burrowing deeper into his warm, muscular chest as you let yourself pass out in bliss. 

— 

You began snoring softly in no time, so he was in no rush to get you to move. He grabbed the blanket from before and made sure you were nice and warm before he carefully slid from under you and retrieved his phone from his trousers on the floor. 

Letting the back of his hand gently caress your cheek, and bending down to kiss your bump one last time, Lando moved away from the couch and went towards the desk. Sitting down on the chair, he made a phone call while he kept an eye on what the screen displayed. 

Those damned emails. 

He smirked when he heard the person on the other end answer. He wasn’t calling to have a full conversation – not with you sleeping just a few feet away. 

“You know what to do.” He ordered over the phone. Then ended the call once the person on the other side confirmed that they indeed knew what he was talking about. 

He tossed his phone aside then closed the tabs on his computer. Deleting the emails before he did so. He scoffed, thinking about that damn little town which was being a pain – but not for long. 

He walked back to where you were sleeping. Kneeling beside the couch, he couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss your cheek. “My baby,” He murmured, letting his lips brush against your skin for a while longer. “I love you so much.” He couldn’t get enough of you. “I’m doing this for us.” He smiled, “You’ll understand one day. I’m just making sure that if ever I can’t have you, then no one can.” 

—

a/n: hi!! I won’t be writing any more parts for this story. I’ve been loving fics with open endings lately so yeahhhh (there will be more mob fics tho don’t worry <3)

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky x virgin reader

18+

Mob Bucky x virgin reader 

If you’re wondering how bad my procrastination is, I started this in November. Anyway, I forgot to add some lines from a different fic here. There’s no plot here, literally just a scene I imagined. Please read the warnings. 

Warnings: dub con, degrading, virginity taking, innocence kink, mentions of blood, horny, feral Bucky is a warning, porn and little plot. Honestly, no plot. 

-

He knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you. Cute little sun dresses, beautiful eyes, your perfect lips, every single one of your delicate features making him crave to have you. He didn’t know what to do with himself the day he found out you were a virgin; you said it so quietly he would have missed it if you weren’t curled up on his lap. 

“My sweet innocent baby” He cooed, trying his best to contain his erection, desperate to fill you. “No ones ever touched you?” 

N-no” You shook your head keeping it buried against his neck while your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were told to wait until marriage to do anything so you did exactly as you were told. It hadn't been a problem up until now, your heart rate beating faster, squeezing your thighs together to make that feeling go away. He was intoxicating; rough fingers tracing over your smooth skin, skimming up to the hem of your dress.

“I-I can’t” You shook your head when he nearly reached your panties, his hand coming to tilt your face up to meet his eyes. 

“Why not, darling”

“We’re-um-” You fumbled with your fingers, choking on your words "We’re not married” 

“Is that all baby?” Bucky chuckled, kissing your cheek, “You know it doesn’t count if I just touch you sweets, would that be okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, knowing it was a bad idea to give into his temptations, the words of your mother and father screaming at you to behave yourself, that were omitting a grave sin, giving into lust-

“O-okay” 

-

“It’ll be more comfortable this way, darling” He reassured you as he spread you out on his large bed, all your clothes torn off while he stripped the last of his boxers before crawling beside you. Your eyes flicked down to his thick length, your stomach clenching as it bobbed between his legs while he settled himself. 

“You can look baby, you don’t have to touch if you don’t want to” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine when he caught you struggling to look away, your eyes now fully trained on the way a stick liquid was beading from the tip of his cock. He gently parted your thighs, moving to kneel in between them, the pads of his fingers brushing over your clit making you squeak in surprise at the feeling. 

“Just your fingers?” You looked at him nervously with doe eyes as he gave you a wolfish grin. 

“Just my fingers love, you’re not doing anything wrong” He rubbed the side of your thigh comfortingly while he coated his fingers in your slick, pressing the middle one into your entrance. “Still such a good girl” 

You gasped at the gentle stretch, gripping onto the sheets when he slowly added another, pumping in and out of your pussy, groaning at the way your thighs parted further to give him better access. 

“Look at this little button” Bucky whispered, rubbing deliberate circles around your clit, watching the way you started to fall apart when he crooked his fingers, fingering you faster. Your moans were music to his ears, his other hand pulling your lip away from your teeth to keep you from silencing yourself. “C’mon, I know you feel it princess, you can cum pretty girl” 

“I-I’m gonna-Bucky-Please!-” The squelching sounds of your sopping cunt got louder as you came closer and closer to the edge, blinding pleasure finally pushing you off as you convulsed around his fingers. “Oh God!” 

“That’s it baby” Bucky slowed down, gently pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, smirking when you cracked your eyes open again, sweat making your skin glisten. He was still kneeling in front of you, precum dribbling down his shaft, his balls achingly full while you shyly peered up at him through your lashes.

He was gorgeous. 

Gorgeous enough you’d want to-

No. 

As if he could read your mind. Bucky took your hand in his, placing your palm on his cock, nearly growling at how soft you felt compared to his rough hand wen he touched himself. 

“You can touch baby, you’re still my good girl” Bucky’s voice was breathless as you hesitantly wrapped your hand around his velvety shaft, stroking his heavy cock. He kept his hand over yours, jerking himself into your fist while his eyes raked up and down your body. 

“Let me touch you darling” He nearly fell forward when your thumb swiped over his slit, “Just let me rub it on you baby, it doesn’t count sweets, you don’t have to worry” 

“Are-are you sure?”

“Of course baby” 

He promised again while you bit your li hesitation before giving him a shaky nod. Bucky groaned, slotting himself between you legs, pumping his cock before rubbing it between you folds, his swollen tip leaking all over your already soaked pussy. 

“So soft bunny” He growled, throbbing when his tip caught against your entrance before rubbing against your clit again, “Feels s’good” 

“Bucky” You moaned in his ear as he started to hump against your pussy, slotting his cock snugly between your folds, his cockhead bumping against your clit with each thrust. “Bucky please” 

You weren’t sure what you were begging for, the feeling of him slipping up and down against you between the grunts and groans he made each time made your belly clench, your eyes growing wide when he was pressed against your entrance again, 

“Bucky-Bucky we can’t-” You looked at him with frantic eyes, his heavy body now fully resting on top of you while he continued to tease his cock, softly pressing against you.  

“That’s not what you call me love, you know better” Bucky had tested the waters earlier, loving how flustered and shy you got when he insisted you call him by something else, making you even more needy for him. 

 “But-were not married daddy” You whimpered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock starting to press against your entrance while he hummed with approval. 

“I won’t move love, just-just let me put the tip in, alright? Just the tip darling” He barely waited for your permission, breaching your hole as soon as you nodded, the sharp sting making you cry out in pain. 

“DADDY!, DADDY s’too much!” You shook your head as he kept pushing in more, stretching as if he were trying to split you in half. 

“I won’t fuck you, just wanna feel it” He gasped as soon as he was fully sheathed in you, your tight walls choking his cock. “Oh fuck angel, you’re so tight, make room for my cock baby, c’mon, let daddy fuck you baby” 

“It’s too big, it hurts” You cried out, squirming and withering on the bed, your legs squeezing and tensing around him while he brought his hand to wipe your tears, pushing away the strange of hair that clung to your forehead. 

“But you feel so good love, you gonna let daddy take your virginity baby?” 

“I-but-we-”

Bucky cooed at your stammering while staying fully buried in your cunt, precum already leaking. He pulled his hips back before thrusting forward making you squeal, his eyes locked with your as he started to fuck you. 

“Stop daddy!” Your nails clawed at his back pleasure, pain, shame, guilt, lust, one too many emotions flowing through you as he moved faster, his muscles tensing, rippling down his body. “Slow down, please!” 

“But you’re making daddy feel so good baby” Bucky groaned, lost in his own world, feral over how tight you were, how you pleaded for him to slow down, his cock was too much for your tiny pussy to take. He loved the way you hiccupped and choked sobs, your greedy virgin cunt sucking him right back in each time he pulled out.  

He was sure he could smell the light scent of iron in the air, looking down at where the both of you were connected, his shaft covered in your creamy slick. Spots of red stained his white sheets, but that only seemed to spur him on more, growling and pounding you harder. 

“Oh sweet girl, did I stretch you too much?” 

“It-hurts” You whimpered, clinging onto him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from crying, you wanted to be so good for him but you could feel the pain radiating through your body, shame melting into pleasure as he drove his cock in deeper. He could feel his length swell, his balls starting to pull tight against his body when you bit down harder, the pain making him throb. 

“Gonna let daddy put his seed in you princess? Hmm? We’re not even married darling, are you gonna let my cock bust in you?” It was so wrong, all of it was so wrong but you were too far gone, too deep, your foggy brain caving, giving into everything you’d always wanted. 

“Yes daddy yes!” Your thighs trembled, squeezing tightly around his waist as the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbed against your clit. Spots clouded around your vision as you clenched around his cock making it hard for him to move, your second orgasm ready to wash over you. 

“That’s a good slut, taking all of her daddy’s dick and letting him making a mess in her” He let out a dark chuckle as his hand came up to wrap around your throat, softly squeezing the sides. 

“M’m-not a slut” Your whimper turned into a guttural moan as he pounded you with everything he had, the bed shaking, his balls slapping your ass. “Ah-AHh fuck!!” 

“Oh but you are baby, all naked and spread out on my bed, fuck princess, m’gonna give it to you so hard, m’gonna cum so fucking hard, shit-FUCCKK” Bucky roared, as bursts of cum streamed out of his cock, the feeling of his seed making you feel warm inside. “You’re milking my cock you slut, gonna milk my fuckin’ dry the way you’re choking me, go on and milk me sweets, take it all” 

You cried out as you came around his cock, emptying him for all he was worth. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping himself warm while you nearly passed out from pleasure, shuddering in his hold. He smirked at your fucked out state, pushing his hips up making you whimper, cuddling into his chest. 

“Rest darling, daddy isn’t finish yet”  

[miirohs]

no body, no crime [o.p.s]

pairing: Mob Boss!Oscar Piastri x GN!Reader wc: 1.8k cw: reader shoots someone, poor hurt/comfort an: this one is dedicated to the local piastri lover em because that Danny Ric fic is never leaving the editing stage,,, had to change it up a bit tho bc the beginning was hampering the rest of it, but anyways I’m continuing the 2 am shitposting tradition 💀

The clock ticked softly in the background, a cold breeze filtering through the room as you curled further into the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to drown out the noise. The nightlights shone through the thin curtains, the light of the bright neon billboards cast onto the floor.

Oscar wasn’t home again, leaving you to your lonesome in his penthouse in London, something about an emergency meeting at eleven in the night.

You weren’t worried much about the call time, but you couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach as your head rested on his shoulder, still too tired to make out what he murmured in a low voice on the phone.

Whatever it was sounded important but he didn’t let you hear anything, herding you back to the bedroom with the promise that he’d be back sooner if not later. You held onto his hand, eyes shutting for good as the warmth of his hand slipped away once again.

With that, you fell into a fretful sleep, waking up at odd times for no explainable reason.

You felt dreadful as your eyes opened again, apartment eerily quiet, vision blurring as you read the clock.

2:45 A.M. It read.

You crawled to the end of the bed, letting your legs dangle off the bed as you reached out for your phone. Not a single notification on the screen and you sighed, opening up the messages app.

As you opened Oscars contact, something outside clicked faintly, making you jump. You slid off the bed, feet padding against the wooden flooring as you wandered into the hall.

You didn’t see any guards posted, even as you called out names you could barely remember hoarsely, getting no response back even as your voice bounced around the hall. It was slowly starting to freak you out, but you figured it was just the lack of sleep getting to you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this paranoid, and it wasn’t just for nothing.

The lights were off in the living room and kitchen, and you turned on the flashlight on your phone, your free hand pressed to the glass window. Your hands trembled slightly as you returned to tapping against the screen, typing up a message to send to Oscar.

where are you rn? heard something outside, can’t see guards anywhere.

The screen lit up, speech bubbles popping up for a couple moments before diapering entirely.

lmk when you’re on your way.

You sent the message, sliding onto a chair and hunching over the granite countertop. The phone rang only moments later, and you snapped out of your stupor, looking at the caller id.

[Osc].

You swiped, sliding off the chair and walking into the kitchen.

“Y/n? Is that you, baby?”

“Mmm, it is,” You mumbled sleepily, fingers running along the countertops as you reached to open the cabinet, "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way back," Oscar replied, tone relieved. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

“No, I thought i heard something,” You paused, anxiety thrumming under the surface of your skin as something clicked again, “And the guards aren’t here, they-”

“What do you mean not there?” You held the phone away, eyes widening as he cussed softly. The shock and fear in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

"I don't know," you stammered, glancing around the dark kitchen, "I called out for them, but no one answered. I thought it was just me being paranoid but…"

"Lock yourself in the bedroom. Now. I'm almost there, and if anyone breaks through, there's a gun in my nightchest. Don’t use it, just scare them if you have to." He instructed, voice panicked. You paused as he rambled further, eyes landing on a glass half full sitting on the countertop next to the sink.

“What the…”

Your head was slammed into the counter, blinding white pain licking across your temple as you dropped the phone.

The glass shattered as you flailed, crumpling onto the floor. Your world spun, something wet staining your hand as you clutched your head.

Oscar was now frantically shouting through the phone, and your vision blurred as you scanned the floor for the bright light. The sound of your phone cracking made you scramble back, trying to stand up as the world spun under your feet.

You could barely see the assailant in the darkness of the apartment, barely illuminated by the lights of the city.

They lunged for you, barely missing as you scrambled to the side, back hitting a wall. It was barely seconds before they came for you, pressing you up against the wall with their gun, cutting off your circulation.

The cold metal dug into your neck, and you clawed at their clothed arms, aimlessly flailing. Your kicking paid off, as the intruder gasped in pain as you landed a kick to the crotch, gasping for air as you slid down. Despite the throbbing pain, you dogged again when something flew at your head, crawling to the living room and pulling yourself up against the coffee table.

The intruder closed in once again, swearing loudly as they limped towards you. Grasping blindly, your fingers closed around a metal vase, swinging it in their direction. It connected with a resounding thud and you got up, shoving past them in the direction of your shared bedroom.

You’d stunned them, but you weren’t sure how long it’d last, locking the door behind you as you fell to your knees, crawling over to his side of the bed, slumped against the bed as you opened the drawer.

Your fingers closed around the cold metal of the gun Oscar had mentioned, hand tensing and untensing as you stared down the shiny silver. Suddenly, the door banged again, and you froze.

The rush of blood drowned out the taunts, positioning yourself in a far corner of the room, eyes straining in the dark as the doorknob jiggled.

That didn’t last wrong, the wood of the door splintering and cracking. "Come out, you-" the intruder's voice was cut off by another loud bang on the door, hand reaching down to the handle through a crack in the door.

There was nothing but the bed between you now, the door finally giving way, allowing them to stumble into a room with a malevolent look.

Panic surged through you and you raised the gun as threateningly as you could.

He grabbed your wrist, wrenching the gun from your grasp and throwing it to the side. You struggled, kicking and clawing your way out of his grip, diving for the gun. They tackled you once again, and you both tumbled to the ground.

In the struggle, your finger dug into the trigger, losing circulation as he pinned you down, gun shaking uncontrollably.

A shot rang out, followed by an intense ringing in your ears, the grip on your hands loosening. Something warm splattered against your face, blood pooling at your sides and you could only stare in horror.

There was nothing but a ringing in your ear, staring into the darkness as if expecting something else. The door burst open and Oscar rushed in, his eyes wild with fear. It was the first time you’d seen him so unkempt, eyes widening in shock as he connected the dots between the smoking gun in your hand and the body on the floor.

You couldn’t make out what he was saying, only as he pulled you closer to him, feeling the vibrations in his chest.

You couldn’t really make out what he was saying, slumping down against him as tears escaped your eyes.

You weren’t sure how much time passed till you could hear him again, blanking out for a couple of moments before you could remember again, sitting on the bed once again.

You could hear Oscar shouting in the other room, probably on the phone again. Something had gone terribly wrong for his composed self to be shattered.

He had Lando sitting in the room with you, monitoring you as your legs dangled off of the edge of the bed, staring down at hands crusted with blood.

Both of you didn’t say much, only nodding to any questions he asked, not even listening entirely.

“Is she doing okay?” You turned at the sound of Oscar's voice, opening then closing your mouth as Lando shrugged noncommittally, murmuring something about how he hadn’t heard a peep in the hour he’d been there.

You phased out again, only coming back to your senses as he gripped your hand, kneeling in front of you.

"Hey," Oscar said softly, high contrast to the way he had been yelling earlier. "Can you look at me baby?"

You blinked, slowly focusing on his face. The tears were coming back, and you swallowed them down again, digging your nails into his hands instead.

He didn’t complain, running a soothing thumb over your knuckles. "You don’t have to if you don’t want to," He continued, "You're safe now. Everything's going to be okay."

Even when you didn’t answer and stared blankly, he continued, listing things aimlessly to catch your attention.

“We’re going to increase security detail for you by the way. I won’t be leaving you on your own for a while…” He paused in his explanation, tilting his head at you. “Please talk to me, baby, I’m worried.”

You swallowed hard, feelings like a mess of strings as you opened your mouth. "I don't know what happened," You shuddered, voice barely above a whisper, "I just... I had to… I just killed someone. Oh god, I'm a killer."

Oscar's expression softened further in contrast to the steely tone he used as he gripped your hand tighter. “No, you didn’t. If anyone questions you, I was the one who did it. Not you, me. Don’t blame yourself for what happens to scum like that.”

“But then- then you’ll get in trouble,” You whispered, haunted by the thought, “they’ll arrest you.”

He smirked, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face as if he was contemplating something.

“Osc baby, what-“

“Whoever sent them,” He spoke with slight disgust, although you could tell that wasn’t at all the full gist of what he was feeling, “Started this trouble first. They can’t arrest me if there’s no body to be found. No body, no crime baby.”

You could only stare at him, heart aching slightly as he pulled your hands to him, allowing you to run your fingers through his messed up hair.

“You’re…” You didn’t finish the sentence, allowing him to stand up and hover over you.

“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he wiped your unshed tears. “You’re strong, we all know that.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sniffled, hands looping around his own as he cradled your face.

“You’ll never have to find out,” he replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead, arms holding you down almost possessively, “Never when I’m here.”

[dexlexia]

how to deal with 3 warlords (while pregnant) - cross guild x reader

pairing: dracule mihawk x buggy the clown x reader x crocdile rating: 18+ summary: Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow, someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. tags: long fic (over 5k), polyam!cross guild, smut, pwp, table sex, couch sex, lingerie, slight possessive behaviour, good ol' time, fingering, outdoor sex, clothed sex, cowgirl position.

join me on discord! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Three warlords, three of the most vicious men in all of the world. And somehow,someway they are at your beck and call. What started out as an arrangement with Sir Crocodile turned into a liaison with Mihawk and somewhere along the way you ended up in bed with the clown. 

Now you were living quite well in a large manor on some island in the southeast. You spent most of your days reading, you had even taken up a little gardening. Anything you wanted the Cross Guild got for you. Not many people were living like you on the Grand Line. 

Then it happened. You ended up pregnant by one of the idiots. One of the three men was the father of your child. You expected to be on the next boat off the island, but none of the men were willing to send you off. They wanted to make sure their little lady was taken care of. While they bicker over who the father was, they each made sure you were taken care of. 

  ”Can't you hurt now.“ Crocodile told you as he brushed his fingers through your hair, ”If it isn't my brat this time, it will be next time.“ And he almost smiled around the cigar in his mouth.

So that was how you became the lovely wife to three of the most dangerous men on the high seas. And sometimes you wished their boat would sink. 

At six months pregnant it wasn't easy to get around, you spent most days rubbing the sore spot in your back and hobbling around the manor. Most of the time the men kept to themselves and allowed you freedom to roam around the place. 

There was something about the manor you quite enjoyed, even if the men barely got along they still cared deeply for you. You had the pleasure of being called more beautiful than any treasure. But it was Buggy who told you that and then he promptly passed out from too much liquor. So the compliment only went so far. 

It was a home, even with three fearsome men, you still were happy. You thought of it as a way to keep the men in check. You were like the glue that held them together or prevented them from killing one another. It wasn't easy work but it was your work. 

-

You rubbed your achy lower back and huffed, ”You better come out easy, or we're going to have a problem.“ You then poked your swollen middle. Your current wardrobe was clothing that belonged to the men. You hadn't had much time to find cuter clothes so you often were dressed like a mob boss or a gothic swordsman or a fucking clown. But none of them men minded, to be fair they'd preferred if you were naked. You however refused to give them the satisfaction.

You weren't a toy to be ogled at, and if any of them treated you like an object they'd be out on the yard before they could finish their sentence. You refused to raise a child to believe that a woman would be under a man. Even if their father was a warlord you'd teach them compassion and kindness in an unforgiving world. 

It was the least you could do. So even with the aches and pains you were happy to carry such a precious gift. You gave your belly and soft pat, ”I'm not mad at you“ You said, ”I just want everything to go smoothly, I'm excited to meet you. And the boys will love you too. They might be a bit much but you'll always have a home.“ 

  ”Talking to the baby again, I see.“ You heard.

  ”Crocodile.“ You responded as you looked up from your swollen middle. Hand on your lower back once more, ”I thought you were busy, Mihawk told me that.“  

You'd say out of the three of them, Crocodile was the most ”attentive“, there was a charm to him that you couldn't deny. You understood why he was able to charm his way through Alabasta. But anything you needed he got for you without question. He often enjoyed your pregnant state, the idea that he bred you so well left him excited. Such a good girl carrying his spawn, and if it happened that the baby belonged to the swordsman or the clown, he'd make sure that next time he finished the job. 

  ”I'm never too busy for you. Where are you going anyway?“ He asked,“If you need something, I will get it fo you.” He approached you and leaned down to caress your bump, “You will need for nothing. You should be resting.“

  ”I have to move sometimes, Crocodile. Even with the pains in my lower back.“ You huffed as you rubbed the sore spot, ”Can't be bed bound forever.“ 

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head, ”If you wanted a back rub you should've come to my office. Mihawk is too rough with you and the clown is an idiot. So why don't we get what you need and head to the bedroom.“ He leaned further down and kissed you on the lips.

You cupped his face and looked at him, ”If you can get me the ice pop from the freezer in the kitchen I'll happily accept your offer.“ And gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster. 

He chuckled, ”You always know how to get your way.“ Then took you by the hand, ”Why don't get go before the clown takes all of them.“ Then he started to slowly walk to the kitchen on the lower level.

The warlord had a soft spot for you, he was enamoured by you. You were so small compared to him yet you held your own. The kind of woman who would bear his young. 

Soon you were seated at the massive dinner table happily enjoying the blue ice pop that was in the freezer with your back turned to Crocodile. His hand was on your back slowly massaging the aches and pains on your lower back. You could tell he was getting aroused by the closeness to you. You smiled to yourself as he rubbed at your back. 

  ”How's the child doing?” He asked as the hooked hand reached around you and carefully rubbed your bump, “Is he behaving?”

You chuckled, “We don't know the gender of the baby.” And took another bite of the cold treat, “You better not be disappointed if they're a girl."

He chuckled and pressed at a sore spot on your back, ”I could never, not with you.“ Then pulled away, "You're still a marvellous sight, even this far in. You're a beauty to behold, little one.“ Then leaned in to get a good feeling on the tenseness of your lower back, ”You're a good girl, right?“

You turned your head to look at him, ”You're not just being nice for sex are you?“ You reached over and stroked his face, ”Right?“

He moved back a little, “No, of course, I'd only have sex with you, with you permission.” He swallowed. Only the warlord would get nervous around you.

You chuckled and patted him on the cheek, “Why don't you finish this up for me.” You placed the ice pop in his mouth and moved off the chair. You hiked up the shirt that looked like a dress as you hoisted yourself onto the lavish dining table with a huff. It's hard to be sexy when you're so pregnant. 

  “Oh?” He said, “And here I thought you wanted a massage. But if there's something you desire, I'm happy to provide.” He smirked at you as he got up from the other chair.  He stood in front of you and admired you, such a beautiful woman in his eyes. 

Crocodile was such a fearsome man but here he was in front of you, with a glint in his eye as he watched you unbutton the shirt you wore and soon revealed your almost naked form. He had noticed that your breasts had gotten a bit bigger during the time you were pregnant so far, and that only made the man smirk. 

  “Let's get you out of those." He remarked as he helped you out of your underwear, you held onto his broad shoulders as he slipped them off of you. He placed your bum back down on the table and carefully spread your legs. His hook grazed at the soft flesh of your inner thigh and he carefully licked his hip lip.

  ”Don't stare at me like I'm meat, Crocodile.“ You remarked as you held onto the front of his shirt, all three of the men admired you but you had to warn them sometimes not to view you like a slab of meat for sale. They were yours as much as you were theirs, there would be a level of respect you demanded. 

You didn't think it was too much to ask considering you were carrying one of their children, you weren't a broodmare goddamnit! 

He reached over and patted you on the head, his face got closer to yours as he smiled at you, ”Don't you worry, baby. I would never. You're less like meat and more like the finest gold in all of the blue.“ His broad hand reached to your cheek and rubbed it, ”The others should be lucky I even let you in the same room as them.“ Then kissed you on the forehead. He carefully held your legs open for him, he exhaled deeply as he admired your sweet sex, ”Now let's get the show on the road before the others find us.“ Then with a little help from you, he slid his cock into you. 

Taking him was like a punch in the gut sometimes, even when he was being slow. He was just so BIG. It was hard to take him all at once. But he took his time, he didn't want to leave you too sore. His hand was on your waist as he started to thrust into you. The hook on his other hand held onto the side of the table for support. He leaned down and kissed at your neck, ”That's it.“ He said almost breathless against your neck, ”There we go. Such a good girl.“ 

The table made small noises as it was pushed ever so slightly across the carpeted floor. But you didn't pay much mind to it, you were too concerned with the feeling of euphoria that came over you. It was a great feeling, even with the minor stretch you were in good hands with the warlord. 

  ”Crocodile.“ You said softly, ”Fuck.“ 

He chuckled, his warm skin was pressed up against you, ”I know, you like when we have sex. I wouldn't have it with anyone else, those other idiots should be lucky that they get to have a taste of you.“ His voice was low, there was a possessive edge to it that sent a shiver up your spine. While the agreement worked you knew that Crocodile would rather have you all to yourself.

The sex was quiet and secretive. Hot breathing and soft moans filled the air of the lavish dining room. Crocodile's larger body stayed around you as he thrusted up into you. But even the warlord couldn't keep his composure for long.

  ”I want you to finish at the same time as me, baby.“ He said hotly into your ear, ”I want to feel you get very tight around me when you finish. Can you do that for me?“ His breathing was rapid and his shirt was sticking to his muscular back as he thrusted up into you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment as you felt the wave of pleasure over your body, ”I can do that.“ You panted. Your body jolted with the thrusts, your pregnant belly and heavy breasts moved with each thrust of his hips. 

He pulled you into a deep kiss, he even explored your mouth with his tongue while the intense feeling of climax took hold. It wasn't long before you were clinging onto him for dear life, you belly pressed against him. Then with one last thrust of his cock, you moaned into his mouth and climaxed at the same time as him. You let out a sharp squeak before a primal groan as you felt the wash of pleasure through your system. It made you go lightheaded. 

Soon Crocodile pulled away and patted you on the cheek. He looked over at the half melted popsicle beside you. Between his breaths he said, “Let me get you another one.” then leaned in for one last kiss. The thrill of pleasure still coursed through his body. He cleared his throat and asked, “Blue, right?”

You giggled, your head still a haze and replied, “Or we could go again?” And spread your legs a little further. And what kind of husband would Crocodile be if he didn't give in to his wife's request?

-

It had been about a week since your encounter with Crocodile. And while you were achy for days later, it wouldn't be the last time you'd have sex. Mihawk had just come back from a trip abroad and while he brought nothing for the other men, he was more than happy to show you what he got you. 

You were now almost seven months and the baby in you was feeling a lot more active, which made you out of breath a lot of the time. But you were determined to see what the swordsman got you. One of the gifts was a lovely dress made for someone as far along as you and while it was a little tight around the belly, you were happy Mihawk even thought of you. 

But there was still more he wanted to show you. The other men were out of the manor, so you went looking for Mihawk. You were occupied all morning with prepping for dinner, between the three warlords not a single one of them knew how to properly cook. They were as clueless in the kitchen as they were competent in combat. So it was just easier for you to cook, there was less of a chance that a fire would break out. 

 “Mihawk!” You called out as you climbed the long staircase upstairs. You peeked into the rooms until you found the man in his study. You let yourself in.

  “You know you can't just- oh, I didn't hear you, my love.” He got up from his chair at the desk, “You shouldn't be putting so much strain on yourself. Come.” He guided you to the old style leather couch at the other end of the room, “You should be resting.” 

  “Well I heard that someone bought me presents while away, and I want my presents.” You smiled at him as you tried to get comfortable on the chair, “Can you blame me?”

 “I'm sorry, I should've found you sooner.” he replied, “Let me get them for you.“ He quickly left the room only to swiftly return with delicately wrapped gifts in hand. He put them on the table in front of you then sat beside you. He watched you with careful eyes as you grabbed the first one. His lips were close to your ear as he said, “Open it.”

It was a floral patterned wrapping paper and underneath was a black box with a white ribbon tied around it, there was a note attached to it that read, ”Forever yours, Mihawk.“ You turned to look at him and he softly kissed you. You then went back to opening the box. It wasn't long until you discovered the contents of the gift. Inside in a bed of tissue paper was burgundy lingerie. 

You turned to look at Mihawk who had his eyes on you. You said to him, ”You shouldn't have.“

He tilted his head to the side, ”What I paid for is nothing compared to how much you're worth. It should fit you.“ His hand played with your hair gently, ”Will you try it on for me?“ And smiled when you slowly stood up, he even carefully supported you while you moved. 

You responded, “Of course.”  With gentle hands you pulled the bra and matching panties out. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw how little fabric there was. You guessed he was right, it would fit if there was nothing to put on. You felt his eyes on you as he got up and started to undress you.

His hands found your swollen middle and he sighed contently, “You've been taking care of him while I've been gone. Good girl.” 

You turned around to him and started to take the dress off, “You men are so possessive. I'm your wife, not a broodmare.” You reminded him.

He leaned in for a kiss and before he did it, he replied, “Of course, I could never remember you as anything but my wife. I am just glad that the others weren't too rough with you. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.” 

  “Nothing will ever happen to me, I have the best protection on the planet.” You said as you stepped out of your dress. Soon your undergarments came off and he slowly put the pieces on you. 

You noticed right away that in the crotch area, there was an opening. You looked at him with a bit and shock and he got even closer to you. His bare chest was pushed against you and his hand dipped down between your legs. 

  “It's your gift. But under my conditions.” He remarked before he pushed two fingers inside of you. His skillful digits massaged the inside of your pussy and felt just right that you went on your tippy toes and clutched onto him. 

Your nipples grew hard from the sensation and them being practically exposed. Your cheeks grew warm and he went in for another kiss. You held onto him tightly as the pleasure raced through you. This felt amazing. 

Mihawk's favourite position was when he had you so close to his bigger form and fingered you. He prioritised your pleasure first, he wanted to see every expression you made when he pleasured you. He wanted to see and hear how good it was for you. And he was one to never disappoint. Those sharp gold eyes trained on you as he brought you into his lap with your legs open and facing the door. He kissed your neck while you panted and moaned. 

His other hand wandered your bump, “I want it to be mine, I want you to bear me a child who'll truly be the greatest. I have high hopes that it'll be mine.” Then left a deep bruise on your neck.

Your moans often got stuck in your throat from the immense pleasure that Mihawk was giving you. You hooked your hands under your knees to give him a better angle, with your back pressed against his chest.

The thrusts of his fingers were powerful and left your head spinning. This was euphoric. Soon his hand was on your breast and he skilfully fondled it as he continued to finger you at a punishing pace.

Your moans rung clear in the office while he pleasures you on the couch. At least your wetness can easily be cleaned off the leather. Your eyes rolled back as you gripped your thighs in a heightened pleasure.

  “So good for me.” He praised, “A beautiful woman I am able to give pleasure to, it's an honour.” He knew your heart was racing, he could probably feel it. He continued to kiss at your neck as his pace quickened even more. 

Your toes curled in the intense feeling and you moaned loudly as you rolled your hips in time with his movement which caused your breasts and belly to bounce. The knowledge of that made Mihawk's cock twitch in his pants. You really were a remarkable woman. 

He pinched at your nipple and your moans got louder. You pussy clenched around his fingers and he groaned into your flushed skin, ”So perfect.“ he thumb gazed at your clit and you practically jumped but you didn't get too far. He pulled you back in and you got louder as he pleasured you further.

You felt a grip around you as hot pleasure raced through your body. Your core felt on fire from the sensation. And Mihawk thought it was divine.  You looked angelic, especially when he hit just the right spot and you climaxed. 

He groaned into your skin as you tightened around his fingers. You tensed for a moment before you relaxed against him and tried to catch your breath. Yor head was spinning but you felt safe in Mihawk's arms. 

  ”How was that?“ He asked, ”You looked divine when I was pleasuring you. Do you want more?“

You exhaled deeply and slowly got up. You stood in front of him, ”Well.“ You said, ”Let's see how resilient this lace is?“ Then slowly he brought you back to the couch with the full intention of seeing what 'damage' he could do before the other men came home. 

-

Buggy was home the most, while the other two had matters to attend to off the island, Buggy was well Buggy. He was a fearsome clown but you spent the most time with him. You enjoyed his company, even when it was something as simple as watching over you while you gardened. 

It was the middle of summer and everyone was in their own little corner of the house. You were out in the garden behind the manor waddling around with a watering can in hand. You were tending to the roses portion of the garden before you moved on to the strawberries nearby. 

You didn't mind the alone time, it gave you time to think. You tried not to get too anxious about how your life is going to change once the baby is born. It felt so far away yet so close. Before the first autumn leaves you were going to be a mother! And at times it left you rather anxious. 

You shook off the thoughts while you poured the water over the roses. You heard the back door open and close. You turned to look over and saw Buggy. And when your eyes met, he broke out into a grin. 

  ”Well there you are, my peanut!“ Then made strides to get closer to you. You quickly noticed in his hand was your large sun hat. He approached and placed it on your head, ”I don't think now is the best time to get a sunburn. You know Crocodile will kill you.“ Then leaned in for a kiss. 

While the other two were mysterious, Buggy seemed normal in comparison. Well, for a clown pirate anyway. He had a very sweet spot for you and while you hadn't seen much of his feared nature, you enjoyed your time with him. He was an open book to you.

  ”You know one of us can do that, like you don't have to keep coming out here. Especially alone, what if you slip on some mud or like... A bird drops a rock on your head!" 

You laughed, ”Buggy, I think I have bigger things to worry about than a bird."

He shrugged before he took the watering can from you, “I'd hate to see anything happen to ya, so let's go. It's time for  a break!” Then placed it down before he guided you away from the garden and towards the shade under the largest tree on the property. 

He helped you down onto the grass and he went in for another kiss. He moaned against your lips as gloved hands cupped your face. It was almost romantic if not for the heat between your kisses. Your heart jumped.

  “You shouldn't be out here all alone, angel. What if someone hurt you? What if someone took you from me?“ He stared down at you.

You smiled back at him and reached out for him. You placed a hand on his cheek and assured him, ”No one would ever dare.“ Then went in for another kiss.You felt excitement race though you as he laid down in the grass with you on top of him. 

  ”Good, because you're mine, peanut. Just like that kid in your belly.“ He grinned at you and nodded. Soon with the help of his powers one of his hands reached down, detached from his body and lifted up your dress. He slipped his hand under and found the less than stylish maternity underwear you wore. 

  ”What do you think you're doing, clown?“ You asked, as you held his face, ”Did you come to check on me so you could fuck me?“ 

He laughed, ”Of course not, having sex with you is just a bonus!“ Then with another hand, pull down the underwear to the middle of your thigh, ”C'mon, then afterwards I'll even help ya water the garden. Seeing you all domestic has really turned me on.” Then he grabbed your ass. 

You moaned and he pulled you in for a searing kiss. He continued to gab at your ass as the kiss deepened. He pulled you dress up further to expose your bare ass to the afternoon air. 

  “You drive me crazy.“ He remarked before he created a bit of room between you two to get his cock out of his pants, ”So why don't you be a good girl and get me off.“ He beamed at you. 

You squeezed his nose between your thumb and pointer finger, ”And what do we say with that, Buggy?“

He frowned suddenly, ”Please. Please angel, sugar, honey, peanut, please, please!“ His cock was out of his pants and pressed into your swollen middle, ”I'd love to see that belly bounce while ya ride me.“  Then he attached both hands to his wrists and held onto your waist. ”I want you.“

You chuckled and held onto the bottom of your dress so a bit of your belly was exposed as you eated yourself onto him. You held his hand for support as you slowly seated yourself onto him. You exhaled deeply, “Yeah.“

  ”Doing alright there, peanut?“ He asked as he rubbed your hip with his free hand, ”That's it, good girl.“

You moaned as you started to roll your hips.  You held onto his hand and the bottom of your dress while you rolled your hips. You felt his cock nudge against the most sensitive spots. For a clown he was a good fuck.

Your eyes closed and your mouth slightly opened as you moved faster.  Buggy groaned and soon both hands were on your hips as he tried to meet your pace. “Shit.” You moaned as you felt pleasure spread through your body like warm butter on hot toast. Your cheeks were flushed as you continued to move your body. 

The two of you went at it, you kept the pace steady. It was getting quicker but the depths that he pushed against made you see stars behind your eyelids. Your heart raced as you moved against him. The feeling of overwhelming moments. Sex with Buggy left you breathless as it did with the other men. You were glad that your pussy could take a beating. The thought made you smirk for a second before you felt his thumb rub up against your clit. 

You jolted up but he used his other hand to keep you back down on his cock. He chuckled, “You're not getting away that easily, angel. I know I make you feel good, that's why the brat in ya is mine. His hand moved to your belly to feel around it while he played with your clit.

You felt moans bubble up in your throat as you rode him. You picked up the pace as the swirl of pleasure moved in the pit of your stomach. Your breathing was rapid as your belly moved with your movements. A sight the clown would never get out of his mind. His girl pregnant with his brat riding him on a sunny afternoon, he couldn't luck out more than this!

Soon the pleasure became an overwhelming feeling for both of you. He handed onto your belly with both hands as he pushed up deeper into you. Your coe felt soaked from the stimulation of his cock as you thrust your hips. Soon your hands were over his on your bump as you moved as fast as your pregnant body would allow.

Buggy's eyes rolled back as he gripped onto your belly, your dress fell back down over the bump as you two met each other's pace. Pleasure coursed through you and you tilted your head back in an attempt to catch your breath as you moved. 

You felt your dress cling to your sweaty back as the two of you made love under the sun. The feeling was euphoric. You reached down and grabbed him by the font of his shirt as you felt on the very tip of orgasm.

The moa got caught in your throat as you climaxed. You tightened around him and he soo finished off too inside of you. He painted your inside white as he let out a loud groan and went limp on the ground. 

You slid off of him, cum stained your inner thigh. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and said, ”C'mon now, Buggy. You have to help me water strawberries.“ But his hands, that were detached from his wrists, pulled your dress up once more.

Soon he was on top of you, squishing your belly as he said between ragged breaths, ”Not until I make you scream, peanut.“ With a wild grin on his face. 

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago. 

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.” 

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?” 

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared. 

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?” 

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.” 

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear. 

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs. 

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer. 

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no— 

“Looking for this?” 

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.”  He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.” 

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?” 

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?” 

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.” 

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger. 

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger. 

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for. 

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?” 

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.”  He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens. 

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”  

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.” 

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you. 

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat. 

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.” 

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.” 

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you. 

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?” 

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss. 

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?” 

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?” 

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.” 

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.” 

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch. 

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little, 

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?” 

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.” 

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?” 

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him. 

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen. 

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?” 

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there. 

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him. 

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word. 

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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[alectoperdita]

Fanfiction: Gasoline (4977 words) by Alecto

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto Characters: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler, Kaiba Seto Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Aged-Up Character(s), Established Relationship, Jealousy, Explicit Sexual Content, Possessive Sex, Car Sex, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Dirty Talk, Top Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler, Bottom Kaiba Seto, Power Bottom, Dom/sub Undertones, Porn with Feelings

Series: Part 3 of In bed with the mob

Summary:

An evening spent drinking in the company of the fairer sex always made Seto eager to restake his claim over Katsuya. Jealousy was gasoline, and they were playing with fire.

Read on AO3

---

Before Katsuya knew it, he landed flat on his back in the backseat of Seto's Lexus, with the man crouched over him. The parking garage was devoid of people, and the vehicle's tinted windows offered a semblance of privacy. Still, Katsuya tensed when Seto pounced on his lips, ferocious as he sucked the air from Katsuya's lungs.

Not a second later, Seto sprang back, a nasty snarl worming across his face. "You stink of that bimbo's perfume."

Once he finished spitting his jealous venom, he began attacking Katsuya's clothing. A button sprang loose, vanishing into the darkness. Katsuya mourned its loss, wondering if his tiger-print shirt would soon follow.

[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 (;

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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

[navybrat817]

Any chance we can see Winter and Kisa? 🥺

I owe them a proper one-shot, nonnie, but I may have a little something to hold you over.

Almost Like Home

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Word Count: Over 1.6k

Warnings: Tension, longing, pet names, possessive behavior, slight obsessive behavior, conflicted reader, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Winter and Kisa. That okay, lovelies? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo . Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Arguing with Bucky to let you go back to your place was pointless today and you were too exhausted to try. Being sleepy was how you justified following him to his bedroom, your footsteps gently echoing in the hall. You took in your surroundings and tried to reason that it was out of curiosity and to stay alert, not because this would be your home one day. Even if he said it would be.

You’d take a quick nap and be on your way, right?

“You sure I can't carry you in?” Bucky offered as he stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall, sneaking a glance at you over your shoulder.

He trusted you enough to have his back to you.

“Don’t you dare,” you said without a hint of malice, biting your lip when he smiled and opened the door to let you go in.

“Worth a shot.”

The rays from the sunset seeped in through the window curtain before Bucky turned the light on. The bedroom was beautiful, as expected, with a king-sized bed, a chair near the balcony, and a fireplace. You imagined him sitting and reading after a long day. But the vanity didn't appear to be his style at all.

It looked like something that belonged in your room.

Bucky didn't attempt to move toward you as you met his all-consuming gaze, which somehow made the tension grow. It would’ve been easy to drag him to his bed or let him shove you down and make you his the way he claimed you were. But one taste wouldn't be enough for either of you.

“As much as I'd love to see you in my clothes,” he said to break the silence, gesturing to a door along the wall. “You might find something more to your liking in there on the right side.”

“I can't sleep in this?”

He dragged his lip along his teeth and shook his head. “The bastard who hit you may not have touched your clothes, but I’d sooner burn them before they touch my bed.”

“Possessive bastard,” you muttered, part of you liking it.

His watchful eyes followed as you crossed the room and opened the door, your mouth falling open as you looked around. The closet was larger than your apartment living room. To the left were suits, shoes, watches, and more that clearly belonged to the mobster. But to the right…

Your heart raced as you walked over and pushed through the clothes, something heavy settling in your stomach when you realized they were all your size. Not only that, they were designs and styles you wore and liked. Many of which you'd never be able to afford, let alone have the pleasure of feeling the fabric under your fingertips. You had long accepted that working for a living would never give you a life of luxury.

There weren't many times in life where you had the rug pulled out from under you, but this was something else entirely.

“What is this?” You whispered, turning toward Bucky as he strode through the door.

“Your closet. Well, our closet. You like it?” He answered, pride in his eyes as he glanced at your side. “I figured you could look at some of the shoes and jewelry after you get some rest. And you’ll love the lingerie almost as much as I will.”

You took a deep breath. And another. It did little to calm you down. “Bucky. I am not your girlfriend and I sure as hell don't live here, so why do you have half of your closet set aside for me?” You demanded.

Bucky lifted a shoulder, unbothered by the fury and touch of sadness that simmered in your eyes. “Girlfriend isn't really a title I want you to have. Wife and my queen, yes. Those will do. And you will live here, so I had to make sure you have clothes,” he said as his eyes bore into yours. “Though I don't mind if you'd rather walk around without wearing anything.”

Your face heated up as he stepped toward you and you wished you could ignore the throbbing between your legs. “You're delusional,” you stated.

He chuckled low, the sound sending more heat through your traitorous body. “No, Kisa. Not delusional. Prepared and excited, but not delusional.”

You scoffed, trying to cover up your arousal. Why did he put more into obtaining you than any other guy who crossed your path before? “Whatever you need to tell yourself to get to sleep at night, Winter.”

“I'll sleep much better when you're beside me.”

The softness in his voice surprised you, like you sleeping beside him would bring him some sort of comfort as well as satisfaction. “You say that like it's a sure thing.”

Your stomach twisted in knots as he smirked, all confidence and swagger. “Oh, you and I both know I always end up getting what I want.”

But what if he stopped wanting you one day?

Your back was against the wall, nowhere to go as he took another step forward. “You can't have me.”

The words sounded empty and you both knew it. “And why is that?” He asked.

“Because I can't let you have me,” you answered, pausing as your gaze shifted away from him. You almost regretted the next words that slipped out of your mouth. “You cloud my judgment.”

The admission didn't lift the weight from your chest because it didn't change anything. At the end of the day, Bucky would continue to do terrible things and you wouldn't bring him to justice. You couldn't bring yourself to do so. Yet you brought others in.

How many times could you justify letting Bucky roam free because he had a heart beneath the surface?

You willed your knees to keep you upright when he rolled his sleeves up more and smugly smiled. “Is that so? Hmm, I like the idea that you can't think straight around me.”

You held up a hand when he moved closer, as if it would stop him. “Don't let it go to your head. My job comes first. You know that.”

He grasped your wrist and brought it to his mouth, his lips barely grazing your skin. The spark between you continued to ignite when his tongue darted out. “Well, if I had it my way you'd come first every single time.”

The breath left your lungs in a rush. “Bucky, please,” you whispered, hating how weak you sounded when his scruff touched your skin.

He hummed as he pressed his lips against your pulse. “That's one of the things I imagine you saying before you come.”

You didn't rip your hand away, enjoying the attention far more than you should have. “You're being ridiculous. You know we can't do this.”

“No, I don't know that. Though you keep saying we shouldn't,” he said, taking your hand and placing it over your head against the wall. His grip didn't hurt. You almost wished it did so you'd have more of a reason to fight. “Maybe you're the delusional one.”

“Maybe I am a little,” you said, tears pricking your eyes. “Because I've crossed the line enough by not bringing you in.”

Maybe your hands weren't as dirty as his, but they sure as hell weren't clean.

A sympathetic smile tugged at his lips. “Because you want me and want to be with me.”

His eyes traced along your face as your breathing got heavier. You didn't object or deny him. Doing so would be a lie and wasn't life clouded enough with too many of those? But to speak the truth would be to lose a part of yourself.

“It doesn't matter. When the chase ends, you’ll stop wanting me,” you said, his brows furrowing when your voice cracked.

Because the game would be over and why would he want to play again? How much of you would he take with him? What would be left in the wake of his victory?

His fingertips ran along your sore cheek and brushed away a tear that fell. “The chase will end because you’ll be by my side, but it doesn't stop there. I’m still going to court you and show you every day why I’m nothing without you.”

Tilting your head, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek. The same way he had in his den. Would it be so wrong to let him seduce you further? “But you have the world,” you whispered.

“You are my world,” he whispered back before he pulled away and released your hand, your body suddenly cold. Your breaths felt shallow as he ran a hand through his hair and he still hadn’t kissed your lips. He looked like he was restraining himself as well. “Those aren't just pretty words. I’ll do whatever it takes to show you, Kisa. Starting with the man who hurt you.”

The resolve in his eyes before he turned and walked away tugged at your heartstrings. “Don’t kill him. Please.”

He stopped in the doorway with a sigh, but didn't face you. “I told you I can't let it go,” he said, grunting as he flexed his fingers. “But I'll try not to kill him.”

You couldn't ask for more than that. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said sincerely, pushing yourself away from the wall. “But you really don't have to do anything to him in order to prove something to me.”

His blue eyes lit up with purpose when he looked back at you. “No one hurts someone I love and gets away with it,” he said, leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

Because what were you really afraid of?

That Bucky Barnes loved you or that you maybe loved him, too?

UGH. I love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[onlymingyus]

Eyes Roll (Patreon Exclusive Bonus)

pairing; wen junhui x f reader x xu minghao

genre; smut (minor dni), filth

summary; Minghao thinks he might be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to find himself back in your bed and between your legs. Jun knows he's the luckiest one as he watches, a smirk on his face while his best friend groans between his wife's thighs.

dark content/content warnings; as this is an bonus drabble of Shut Up keep in mind this is mob boss!junhui, second in command!minghao, assistant!reader, some toxic themes possible -- wife!reader/husband!junhui, they are obsessed with one another but if you read Shut Up... once again you will know.

smut warnings; threesome, mlm undertones/poly (because I am me)/ unprotected sex, double penetration, pet names, degrading, praise, so much dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), aftercare, dom!junhui, switch!minghao, sub!reader

w/c; 2.1k and some change (341 this teaser)

eyes roll - (g)i-dle

a/n; written for/out of spite for @junkissed -- thank you for also giving it a good once over june! i really hope you like it and i hope all my peaches like it just as much. sometimes you just gotta write some filth.

this fic is a Patreon exclusive bonus drabble -- to read this drabble subscribe to my Patreon and click here

“You’re so pretty when your eyes roll back like that, doll.” 

Minghao smirks against your thigh as you lick your already bitten lips. He had been between your thighs for what seemed like hours, but he had no intention of leaving or slowing down. This was one of those rare moments when he had been invited back into your and Jun’s bed and he wasn’t going to waste it. 

Biting at his bottom lip as he sits patiently at the end of the bed in a chair, Jun tilts his head, watching your head fall back with a moan. Minghao was the only person he’d allow in his bed and between your legs. He could admit that he liked the way he looked as he ravished you. The way you both looked as you came apart. 

Normally, he would be in bed with you both. He’d be leading the room, much like he did in everyday scenarios, but tonight he was spending the first part of it enjoying the sounds coming out of your and Minghao’s mouths. You were breathless, panting like a cat in heat, and Minghao sounded like he was feral as he lapped at your cunt. 

“You’ve got him humping the mattress, kitten. That’s how fuckin’ good you taste.” Jun’s voice sends you over the edge once more as Minghao’s long fingers fuck you deep. You sob incoherently, feeling his skilled tongue circle your clit, the vibrations of his deep groans causing your thighs to tremble around his head before you fall back into your pillows exhausted. 

Smirking against your swollen folds, Minghao glances up at the length of your body as you lay pliant under his touch. With one more long lick of his tongue from your dripping hole to your clit, he relishes in the sound of your choked moans and the quiver of your thighs pressed against his ears before you whisper pleas for mercy. 

“You can’t handle it? Come on, baby... You can take more. Haven’t even had my cock. What about Jun’s cock?”

READ THE ENTIRE DRABBLE

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[witchywithwhiskey]

the princess and the villain

pairing: choose your own soft!dark male character x female reader

summary: you're the daughter of a powerful mob boss, and someone's been hired to take you away. but after one look at your face, the man starts getting ideas about keeping you for himself.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), dark themes, abduction, drugging, dirty thoughts and fantasies (including nonconsensual somnophilia), sadism, dacryphilia, a dangerously delusional man

word count: 1.7k

a/n: i wrote this prologue-y thing back in early spring for a specific character, but while i liked this part, i didn't like anything about how the story progressed after it and i ended up abandoning the fic. but i still really liked this part and i thought it'd be a fun entry in @bucks-and-noble's Choose Your Babe challenge!! so, after you read, please tell me who you think is the villain to our princess 😈

For you, it was a night like any other. 

You’d gone through your normal evening routine, padding softly around your penthouse apartment before slipping between the satin sheets of your queen-sized bed. 

You’d drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling safe in the knowledge that your security system was set, there was an armed doorman in the lobby of your building, and your father’s men were only a phone call away.

For him, it was the night everything changed.

Of course, everything would change for you, too. You just didn’t know it yet.

You were blissfully unaware of everything that had been put in motion that led to the events of that night. You slept soundly as a man you’d never met before—one wearing a dark suit, dark gloves and a dark look in his eye—stalked silently into your bedroom. He adjusted the black leather gloves he wore, a silver gun gripped in one steady hand as he came to stand over you. 

You looked like a princess.

It was the first thing that struck the man, how much you looked like a sleeping princess from the fairytales he’d read as a boy. So peaceful and pretty and perfect. 

But the man wasn’t a knight or a prince. Sure, he’d had noble aspirations when he’d been young, wanting to slay dragons and rescue princesses like you. But that’s not how his life turned out.

Instead, he’d become the villain. He was the assassin who had killed your father’s men assigned to protect you, then slit the throat of the doorman in your lobby before disarming your security system and letting himself into your defenseless apartment. 

He was the mercenary hired by your mafia boss father’s rival to abduct you and hold you hostage while the old men squabbled over power and money.

As the man stared down at your face, his eyes tracing the curve of your cheek and the dip of your mouth, the thought occurred to him that he would pay anything to get you back if you’d been taken from him. He’d burn the whole world down to find you if someone managed to take you from him. Not that he’d ever let you out of his sight if you were his…

But then he reminded himself that you weren’t his, you were a job, and his thoughts soured. It was more difficult than he would’ve liked to admit to get back to work, his movements lacking their normal meticulousness as he shoved his gun into its holster beneath his arm. 

He pulled a cloth and a small bottle of chloroform from a pocket inside his suit jacket. He didn’t normally need to watch what he was doing, but he did then, making extra certain he didn’t pour too much of the sedative onto the cloth before stowing the bottle away again.

Normally, the man was a professional. He could press the cloth so gently over someone’s mouth and nose while they slept that they’d never even know they were being drugged. They’d just slip peacefully from sleeping into unconsciousness, without any of the fear or struggle that came with waking up to realize they were being drugged by a stranger.

But the man’s mask of calm had slipped the moment he’d laid eyes on your beauty, and he could feel the darkness in the very depths of his soul stirring within him. It was seething and starving, testing the limits of his self-control, making him feel on edge. He wanted. He wanted you.

The man could picture his hand roughly covering your mouth and nose with the chloroform cloth, your eyes flying open and staring up at him. He could imagine the way they’d widen with horror, then fill with tears that slipped down your temples and into your hair. He could almost hear your soft cry of distress and your whimper of terror as you comprehended your fate.

As he fantasized about your fear, the man’s cock hardened in his pants, thickening at the thought of your pretty eyes staring up at him like the villain he was. A menacing grin slowly curled the corners of his mouth and the dark look in his eye turned positively wicked.

Then he was moving, forgoing his normal precision and letting the darkness within him take hold as he slammed the chloroform cloth over your pretty mouth and pert nose, the tips of his leather-clad fingers digging into your soft cheeks hard enough to make you scream in surprise.

When your eyes flew open, the man couldn’t help but marvel at their beauty, leaning forward to loom over your body to get a better look. The moonlight shone across your face, limning your features in ethereal silver light, making you look like an angel. You were even more beautiful when you were looking at him like he was the most important thing in the world. 

The mercenary had thought your immediate reaction would be fear, but he was wrong. He hadn’t anticipated the way your brows would furrow in confusion, sweet little lines forming between them as you stared up at him, more bewildered than terrified by his presence.

But then—then it happened. Confusion gave way to horror, your chest heaving as you breathed in panicked gasps, only succeeding in inhaling more of the drug and dooming yourself. You whimpered so sweetly it sounded like music to the man’s ears, and your eyes filled with tears. The man watched, his mouth curving into a greedy, predatory smile. 

He held your terrified gaze, using one hand to brace the back of your head so you couldn’t escape the cloth that covered your mouth and nose and you continued to breathe in the sedative. His cock ached in his pants, the full length of him pressing against the tight confines as he throbbed with arousal, his balls filling with come that he furiously wanted to spill across your face. Or bury deep in one of your warm holes… 

His attention was forced back to the present when your body jerked with dawning realization of what was happening to you. You reached for the dangerous stranger looming over you, your fingertips falling just shy of brushing against his bulge. The man’s cock twitched, as if reaching for you in return, and he had to stop himself from thrusting to meet your touch. 

Thankfully for him, the chloroform was doing its job, and your hands dropped futilely as your eyes began to close. Your arms fell listlessly to the bed and the man watched you succumb to the sedative he’d used to drug you.

When he was certain you were unconscious, he pulled the cloth away and stowed it back in his jacket pocket, ensuring he didn’t leave any trace of his presence in your apartment. That was the job, he tried to remind himself, but the darkness within him was louder, and his movements were all too eager as he pulled the blankets of your bed back, baring your body to his hungry gaze.

He felt his cock throb in excitement as he stared down at you, your body clad in nothing but a skimpy little nightgown, the fabric so thin he could see the shape of your nipples poking through. His eyes roved greedily over your curves, lingering for a long moment on the way the bottom hem of your nightdress was rucked up around your hips, almost giving him a glimpse of your precious cunt nestled between your thighs.

The man wanted desperately to know if you’d gone to bed without panties, but he knew he had to ignore the creeping darkness that had slithered into his mind. Not because it would be a gross invasion of privacy to take a peek at your panties while you were unconscious, but because he knew that if he pushed your nightdress up any further, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from sinking his cock into your tight cunt while you were still out cold.

He’d never fucked a princess, and fucking you—even if it was while you were unconscious—might be the closest he ever got. You were a sleeping beauty and he was no prince charming, no honorable knight. He was the villain, and he wanted to ravage you, whether you were awake or not. 

In that moment, he couldn’t decide which would be better. Fucking you while you were soft and pliant with sleep, your body taking his cock into your tight warm hole while you mumbled incoherently against his shoulder. Or fucking you when you were awake, so he could see your pretty eyes fill with tears again, hear the desperate sounds you made while he filled you with his cock…

The leather of the man’s gloves creaked in the silence of your bedroom as he curled his hands into fists and beat back the darkness that had slipped into his head. He was a professional. He’d been hired to do a job, and you were that job. 

You weren’t his princess to steal away from the king’s tower. He needed to remember that.

The mercenary adjusted his cock in his pants, working hard to reclaim the control that had fled the moment he’d laid eyes on you. He forced his limbs to move precisely as he gathered you up into his arms, ignoring his body’s responses when he smelled the sweet scent of you settle around him, and when he felt your soft breath exhale against his neck. 

A car was waiting in the parking garage beneath the building, ready for the man to take you far away from your home and the city where your father held enough power to be considered a king. He encountered no obstacles as he carried you down to the garage and buckled you into the passenger seat of the car.

As the man drove away, he couldn’t help but feel like the villain stealing the princess from the king’s tower, and it gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction. He may not have been a prince or a knight, but he had taken the princess. And he began to think that maybe he should keep you for himself. 

Perhaps the man could write his own kind of twisted fairytale, one where the villain got to keep the princess. 

Looking over at you, your features soft in sleep and no less beautiful than when he’d first laid eyes on you, the man made his decision. He’d have his happily ever after at any cost—which meant he’d have to convince you that he was your fairytale come to life, just as you were his.

so who's the babe!? tell me in the comments, reblogs or in my askbox!

[thewidowsledger]

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 14: Last Piece | 4.5k

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, bad writing, dark themes, arson, torture (kinda waterbloating) Natasha almost killing Yelena with a piece of cloth and water, thoughts of suicide, implied sexual abuse, Natasha being a child of r4p3 (I’m really sorry)

Author's Note: BEWARE OF THE WARNINGS‼️I feel like I wasn't able to write everything in this chapter because I wrote this in a rush and since I will be gone for another week or 2 or worst a month, I decided to post this now. I also have received all the requests and tiger cub 🐅 I will surely write the one you requested :3 it will be the first fic I will post as soon as I get back.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

Yelena found herself lying in her safehouse, the familiar surroundings a small comfort amidst the pain coursing through her body. When she tried to move her left wrist was restrained, handcuffed to the bed. Despite the situation, she remained calm, she's trained for this—these things are like simple activities to her. She tried to reach out for the side table, to look for something she can use to free herself but the table was gone.

“Fuck, that was the first thing I bought with my own money.”

A sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in the silence while the blonde struggled in her own bed, when she shot her head forward she saw a figure loom over.

“Natasha…” she called out in a warning. Even if she hasn't seen who it is, she knew it was her sister.

Of course she knew she’ll come after her.

“Hope you don't mind me paying a visit,” Natasha said as she sat down on the chair she had dragged. The harsh sound of the metal against the ground only added to the tension in the room. The blonde always made a visit to her place without her knowing it so why wouldn't she do the same?

“I’m sorry.”

“Where is she?”

“Natasha, please…”

“Don't beg, yet.”

Yelena winced slightly as she shifted her body, but she managed to sit upright, her back resting against the wall. The coldness of the stone wall sent a chill down her spine, but it provided the support she needed. The handcuff kept her left wrist in place on the bed, limiting her movement.

“Where's the puppy?” Yelena asked as she tried to shift the situation.

“Somewhere safe,” Natasha replied. “But the mom?” She paused, her gaze boring into Yelena's, “That's what I'm asking you.” She now stood and walked over her sister who is now scooting on the corner of her bed.

“Where is Y/N?” she asked again with a little bit of force now.

“I don't know, Natasha,” Yelena said truthfully but her sister did not seem to be satisfied with that answer. Natasha felt like her own sister was lying to her, so she left in a minute and when she got back, she was dragging a trash bag behind her.

“Woah, woah, Natasha don't!” Yelena's eyes widened as she saw her own collection of vests inside the trash bag, and her heart almost stopped when Natasha carelessly flung a lighter onto the pile in a blink.

The blonde watched in horror as the items burst into flames, the fire licking and consuming her precious collection of vests.

“I am telling you the truth!” Yelena shouted, her chest rose and fell quickly as she breathed heavily, the smell of burning fabric filled the room, the acrid aroma of the vests being consumed by flames filling her nostrils. Yelena watched as her sister walked out of the room again. A few moments later, she could hear the sound of water moving through pipes as her sister returned with a hose in hand. She breathed thinking her sister would use it for the burning clothes she just lit, but then her sister gripped her right hand and cuffed it to the side of the bed, forcing her to lie back.

“Natasha…” She tugged on the handcuffs, the metal biting on both of her wrists as she struggled to break free, but to no avail.

The redhead grabbed a towel from nearby and placed it over her sister's face, covering her completely. The fabric was thick and stifling, making it nearly impossible for Yelena to breathe.

“What the fuck! Natasha!” She shouted but the fabric made her words muffled.

Natasha then took the head of the hose and aimed it over the towel-covered face of her sister, the water already running at maximum pressure. The force of the stream pushed the towel further into Yelena's mouth and nose, the water pouring down her throat and into her lungs. Her body convulsed as she gagged and sputtered, her legs thrashing beneath her.

She desperately tried to inhale through the soaked towel. Each breath was a fight, water pouring into her mouth and nostrils, choking and burning her. Her lungs screamed for air, but all she could draw in was more water.

Yelena's face scrunched up in agony beneath the towel and a slideshow of memories flickered through her mind—the moments she shared with you, short, yet changed the trajectory of her life.

She felt guilty about how she treated you, the names she called you. She still hated you, though, she hated how your purity and warmth reminded her of her own hardened ways. She also hated how good your cookies are.

But what she hated most was that she couldn't escape the fact that you had inadvertently made her realize the truth–that deep down, her sister, Natasha who was torturing her right now, loved her more than she cared to admit

“You know, your sister loves you.”

Just as suddenly as it began, the water stopped. She managed to remove the soaked towel from her face, coughing and sputtering as she tried to clear the water from her throat. Her vision was blurry, and her body ached from the ordeal, but her mind remained focused on one thing: finding you.

The hose continued to run, soaking the pile of her vests and extinguishing the last remnants of the fire.

“Red R-room,” Yelena gasped out.

Natasha stopped her movements when she heard her sister say the two words she doesn't want to hear anymore.

“They took her, Nat. It's them.”

“And you let them,” she said coldly, “You helped them!” She now turned and pointed a finger on her sister, she then fished out the burner phone Yelena had and threw it to her making the blonde wince when it hit her stomach.

“I can handle the truth of the Red Room resurfacing after all these years, after I burnt them down,” Natasha tried to keep her tears at bay, not wanting Yelena to see her vulnerable at this point, “But you?” Her gaze locked onto her sister, she clenched her jaw and finally let the tears fall from her eyes, “My own sister? Betraying me?”

“How could you do this to me?!”

Natasha exhaled, wiping her tears as she tried to hold her anger that she thought was finally gone after she almost killed her sister with a piece of towel.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“Sestra, please.”

“Shut up!”

“I was supposed to bring her back to you!” Yelena didn't back down, she wanted her sister to know about it, about you—about how you changed her. Maybe the things Natasha saw in you that she now saw too.

“I w-was changing my mind...” The weight of her actions, of what she did to you is now eating her alive.

“Too late.”

“Natasha! You're gonna need me!” Yelena called out urgently, thrashing her cuffed hands when she saw her sister moving to walk away—this time she thinks it's for good. “I'm going to help you! I'll find Y/N!”

Yelena's pleading continued, desperate to convince her sister to give her a chance. But Natasha didn't stop, didn't turn back. With a final glance, she vanished from sight, leaving Yelena drowning in guilt and shame of her betrayal.

“I’m sorry.”

⧗

You slowly wake-up, blinking your eyes a few times as you look at the ceiling above you. Your body is numb and you can hear a faint ringing in your ears as your heart starts to race. You shut your eyes and counted up to 3 and you managed to slowly sit upright but your body trembled. You look desperately around the room and notice heavy curtains. You're about to move towards it when you hear a voice.

“That will get you nowhere.”

You freeze abruptly, you can hear the loud thud of your heart as you scan the unfamiliar room for the source of the voice. And that's when you see a woman, sitting on her own bed across the room.

“W-who ar—”

“Xialing, Xu Xialing,” she cut you off as if she was already expecting you to ask her that.

“Xialing? A-as in the pri—”

“The Princess of Ta Lo,” despite you being disoriented right now, you noticed how her tone dropped. You’ve seen her on TV, when the crown was passed down to her mother. You always dreamed of being like her and now she's in the same room as you.

The only difference is that she is a princess and you're just a stripper.

Dreams be damned but you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you desperately ask again, this time you whispered it to yourself but it didn't go unheard by the princess, “Where am I?”

She observed you, her expression remained calm as she responded with a question of her own, “What was the last thing you remember?”

And that's when it hits you, the last thing you remember was the sight of Yelena, lying motionless on the street while the small puppy she bought you licked her face.

“You brought us in so much trouble already, you’re going to pay for it.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as the memory floods your mind. You then rushed towards her and stood in front of her bed, “We’re in danger, we need to get out of here,” you informed her as you paced around, finally gaining your senses back, “I-I was kidnapped a-and…and…”

As if she heard nothing, she simply tightened the robe around her body and walked in front of you to her vanity table. She sat there, casually searching on the drawers.

You furrow your brows in disbelief as you watch her start combing her hair, “What are you doing?” You asked and you weren't able to contain your frustration as your voice came out louder than you intended—even if you knew that you were talking to a royalty.

As you watch her continue to brush her hair, a sudden realization hits you. You had assumed the worst for yourself, but what about her? Has she been here for a long time now? Was she also taken captive? How can she be so calm?

You looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair, your voice cracking as you ask, “W-were you taken too?”

She huffed, “We all are,” she then fixed her robe, and then there, you saw a glimpse of a scar on her shoulder similar to yours, “Even the only heir to the throne cannot be shielded away from danger.” She met your gaze on the mirror before she placed the comb back to its place.

“No one can escape the Red Room.”

“W-what are you saying,” you asked in a shaky voice, “w-what Red Room?”

“What's your story?” She asked, answering your question with a question once again. “Girls here have different stories,” you watched her in the mirror as she put some moisturizer on her face, “there's this spoiled daughter of a corrupt mayor in Europe, her room is across ours. She's one of the favorites, not the one to be messed with. Then there's the wife of the president of Latveria…” She trailed off as she noted every woman that was taken by god who knows what room.

“There's also this one student of Kamar-Taj, only few can enroll in that prestigious school. Very strict and they don't let the students out, they can only have visitors once in 2 months,” she shook her head sideways and chuckled lightly to herself, “but it's the Red Room, so…they still got her.”

She twisted the cap back onto her moisturizer bottle and then turned to face you as she sat on the edge of her vanity table, her arms crossing and eyeing you with anticipation.

“So what about you? What's your story?”

These were women from powerful backgrounds, high-class families, sent to prestigious schools—probably filthy rich. They’re literally elites, royalties, lived in mansions and had influential families, parents, husbands, partners, connections. And you? Hell, you have no one. You survived on scraps and you swallow filthy comments for a living, how can't you? You're just a lowly stripper who accidentally got saved by a mob by sheer luck.

So you remained silent, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat together with the shame you feel right now. The princess noticed it, though, but she didn't pry further.

“What's your name?”

“Y/N...”

She then moved closer to her bed and dipped herself on the soft sheets. She spoke again, “You were the last piece, Y/N,” she said and that made you furrow your brows more, this time not to hold your tears back but in confusion as you struggled to process what she just said.

Last piece?

“They had a hard time finding you, so whoever was protecting you must be powerful.”

“Not powerful enough, though,” she added that made you hitch your breath as you saw flashes of Natasha’s image before your eyes.

“But that makes us all the same, no matter how powerful we are, they still found us.” She then tucked herself in, signaling the end of the conversation.

You fixated on the princess beneath her duvet, your mind filled with horror with everything she just told you, what bothers you more is as if she had grown accustomed to this—comfortable even.

How will you process all that? All the suppressed tears you had been holding back now streamed down your cheeks. You swiftly brought your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to erupt.

“Crying will get you nowhere, you should rest,” she advised for the last time. “In a couple of days, you’ll see real powerful people. And we’ll be paraded while they dish out millions on us like it’s a chump change.”

⧗

The Princess told you everything you need about the Red Room, it's a sinister organization. They'll take who they're ordered to take, no questions asked. They will do anything if the price is right, regardless of who asks. Each woman in this place as you were all specifically targeted and requested. It's the Red Room's specialty—fulfilling those who request abductions of women.

And what bothers you now is who would pay just to take you?

Xialing applied her lipstick, fixing herself in front of her own vanity mirror as you sat on your bed, staring at nothing.

“We're having breakfast, be aware that there will be armed guards stationed outside,” she informed you sternly. “Stay calm, refrain from any impulsive actions. Speak only when spoken to, and avoid attracting attention. And above all,” she continued, her voice firm, “Do not attempt anything stupid. Keep yourself out of trouble, don't get in anyone’s way.”

You found yourself lost in thought, staring blankly at the floor in front of you. Your eyes had become unblinking as you became lost in your own thoughts. You can feel your chest tightening as a crushing sense of hopelessness begins to take hold. You felt trapped, helpless, and your despair grew with each passing moment.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the room and two men entered, their big weapons clinging in their body. The princess stood up from her seat, her gaze fixated on them. You, however, remained seated, your eyes vacant as tears streamed down your face. It was as if you were detached from reality, no longer responding to the world around you.

The princess shot a frustrated glance back in your direction, her irritation evident. She immediately ran to your bed and shook you.

“Why do you always cry?! If you want to survive,” she hissed, “you have to pull yourself together because crying won’t help you here!”

You struggled to stand, your body heavy with despair, and the princess nearly had to drag you to your feet. As you stood, you wiped the tears from your face.

“She's fine.” The princess told the guards who seemed being impatient with the two of you.

She guided you as you walked passed them. Your eyes take in every detail of your surroundings as you both went outside the room. You silently counted the cameras that were positioned in each corner of the hall, your eyes noting the locations of each one.

Next, you focused on the guards, mentally tallying their movements and positions within their area.

As you entered the dining area, there was a long table with girls seated in chairs. Their expressions were vacant as you, as if they were under mysterious control. A guard stepped forward, he dragged you away from the princess and firmly directed you towards your assigned seat. You reminded yourself not to fight even if your body wants to.

A woman at the head of the table smirked as she looked directly at you.

“Ah, perfect, all the chairs are filled. The last piece is here.”

You remained silent, eyes fixated on the table in front of you but that didn't stop you from feeling all the attention pointing towards you. The woman then clapped, and almost on cue, guards wheeled in carts laden with food and placed them on the table. The aroma filled the air, and the sight of delicious dishes lined the table. However, you remained silent and unresponsive, still unable to bring yourself to move even a single finger.

As you sat silently, your eyes scanned the table in front of you, and something immediately caught your attention–the sight of plastic utensils getting placed at the table. Confusion filled your mind as you wondered why they would use such materials for a meal in this luxurious setting.

You’re mind now fell onto the darker part of your brain by wanting to place the fork in your neck or maybe at your chest and just end it there. And there, you realized the reason why they use plastic as utensils.

The other women at the table began to eat, but you paid them no attention. You sat silently, ignoring the food on your plate. The central woman then tilted her head in your direction, her voice cold and commanding.

“Stripper,” she called that made you pull out from your deep thought, your throat tightened but you remained fixed on the food on your plate, not daring to look at her direction or to anyone. It sounded degrading coming from her and it made you want to rip your soul apart from your body as you remember that all women in here were literally nothing like you.

You sure do really need to know your place here.

“Eat. Or I will force you to eat, and trust me, it will hurt.”

You swallowed, your throat felt dry, and you slightly glanced at the princess seated across from you. Her eyes met your gaze, and she mouthed the words “please, eat” silently to you. The look in her eyes was pleading, her concern for you visible in her expression.

You took a shaky breath and picked up the plastic fork, your fingers trembling slightly as you began to eat. The food tasted bland and unappetizing, but you forced yourself to swallow each morsel that passed your lips.

The woman at the center of the table observed you silently, her gaze fixed upon you as you ate, clearly evaluating your compliance.

She then clapped her hands once more, and with remarkable efficiency. The guards immediately began to remove the food from the table, regardless of whether you had finished it or not. The sight of each plate being taken away so quickly was slightly unnerving.

You managed to take a total of four bites before the guards removed each plate and utensils from the table. Then, the woman at the center of the table gestured to a girl at the table, “You, over there–you have a visitor. Get ready.”

The girl immediately started to cry and plead, “No, no, no, please!” But the guard advanced toward her, undeterred by her frantic pleas.

You felt a sense of helplessness wash over you as you desperately wanted to intervene, but an invisible force seemed to hold you back—as if you were tied to your chair. You looked at Xialing who quietly shook her head, signaling you not to take any rash actions that will for sure put you to a death row situation.

Unable to bear the sight and sounds of the girl’s cries, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, desperately trying to block them out. Your heart pounded heavily, and your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms as a means to distract yourself from the heartbreaking situation unfolding before you.

Once the girl had been led away, the woman at the center of the table addressed the remaining girls, “See you all at lunch.”

One guard approached each girl, gently taking hold of your arm as they guided each of you back to your rooms. As the guards led you back to yours, you felt frustrated, hating how you were being handled like a prisoner. But you are, though, you also remembered the princess’s earlier warning and tried your best to control yourself, knowing that any resistance or disobedience could put you in more danger.

You sat on your bed, your gaze vacant as you stared at the floor once again. The sound of the door opening echoed through the room, and without even turning your head, you knew that it was the princess entering.

“That was Agatha, she's the head here.” The princess spoke as if she knew all the questions you had in mind.

Your voice was cold and devoid of emotion as you asked, “What will happen to the girl?”

The princess stayed silent, her attention shifting to the vanity mirror as she began to fix her appearance. She did not offer any response to your question, her focus solely on her reflection.

You stood up abruptly, your voice filled with irritation and anger as you faced her.

“Why aren't you answering my question now, huh?” you laughed humorlessly, “You speak to me as if you know everything in my mind, but now you can't answer my question?”

“What is going to happen to that girl?” you repeated the question shakingly, angrily emphasizing each word.

“I am not answering because the answer to your question is already in your mind too.”

“No…” you shook your head, you wanted to throw up everything you ate on that goddamn table.

“She might probably meet the one who requested her from the Red Room but they won't have her not until the night.”

“Stop,” you whispered.

But the princess didn't bother, she continued, “And whoever that person can do whatever they want on her, like fuck her or...”

“Stop!”

“You want to know the truth, don't you? And now you cannot accept it?!”

The princess spun around, her face now visible to you.

“That is her truth! Because the same thing happened to me!” Her eyes were filled with anger and pain. She stood mere inches away from you, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her revelation.

You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, their warmth cascading down your cheeks. It was not for your own pain but for the princess' and the girl. The realization of what they had been through, the suffering they endured, and the horrors of what is happening or what might happen to the girl right now broke you, and the tears rolled down shamelessly.

Xialing clenched her jaw, her voice sharp and harsh.

“I don't need your tears or your sympathy,” she said firmly, her jaw clenching as she turned her back at you. Now, she is the one who's trying to hold her own tears back, not for herself—but for you.

“Better save your tears for yourself because the same thing will happen to you in no time.”

⧗

Bucky pushed Yelena forcefully forward, his grip on her arm firm and unwavering. Yelena stumbled, regaining her balance as she came to a halt in front of Natasha's table.

“I saw this one climbing in,” Bucky said, his voice monotone. “I thought I'd bring her to you.”

Natasha looked up, her gaze shifting towards her sister who stood before her, panting and disheveled.

“Natasha…” she breathed but she was interrupted when Maria pushed the door open and entered the room, her eyes widening as she took in the blonde who looked so distressed in front of her.

“I thought we were having an emergency meeting,” she chuckled in surprise, “I didn't know we were having a torture party. Should I get your toys, Natalia?”

“You made the wrong move coming here, little one,” Bucky growled. “Did you really think you could still sneak in unnoticed this time?”

“Enough of that,” Natasha interjected, her authoritative tone silencing Bucky and Maria instantly.

Yelena seized the opportunity to speak, “I know you're looking for Y/N and I...I can help you.”

“Dreykov is not stupid enough to trust you with everything. They just used you and you, in your desperate quest to prove your worth, did whatever Papa wanted you to. Even if it's you taking away the one I love! ”

Yelena visibly flinched at her sister's words. Her expression shifted from determination to disbelief and for a brief moment, a flicker of guilt once again passed through her eyes with Natasha's revelation.

Her sister loves you and she knowingly became a part of those chains that led you away from her.

Her determination flared up even more.

“But I am not dumber, Natasha,” the blonde asserted. “I tracked them. I know where they are. We both know that I know the Red Room better than you. I knew they were still out there when you thought you succeeded in burning them, but you don't. You know mama is a product of the—”

She was cut off as Natasha hurled the glass of whiskey in her direction making the blonde flinch.

“Mama is not a product of the Red Room!” she shouted, her words filled with fierce anger. “She was a victim! She didn't choose that life, it was forced upon her. Don't you dare label her in that way!”

“YA byl produktom…” (I was the product) she now let out a humorless chuckle as she stared directly onto her sister's eyes, the irony of her own words bitter in her mouth. “You still don't get it, sestra, do you?”

Yelena froze, her breaths becoming shallow as Natasha's words settled within her. Her mind raced, refusing to accept the horrifying truth that was beginning to take shape.

She shook her head, an unconscious act of denial. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, “They love each other from the beginning! Papa loved Mama the first ti—”

“If they did…” Natasha didn't let her sister finish, not wanting to hear the stupid fairytale lie of a love story Alexei used to tell them as a kid.

“Why did Mama look at me, as if I reminded her of her worst nightmare?” The horrified look of her mother on her flashed in Natasha's mind, she winced as she remember how many countless times she called out for her Mama, but her cries went unanswered.

The three stood in silence, their heads were kept down in unease as Natasha revealed and recounted her pain.

“You heard the different side of the love story, Yeye. Why don't you flip the other side, so you'll see the rest of it?” Natasha's smirk was tinged with a bitter edge as she echoed the nickname Alexei used to call the blonde.

“He loved her the first time he laid eyes on her?” She paused in disbelief, her expression hardening as she avoided addressing Alexei as her Papa. “It was nothing more than an illusion - a sick, twisted form of possession. He was a coward, so he just asked his friend to capture her. He paid them and forced himself on Mama.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked once again at her sister, “I thought you knew the Red Room well?”

“I do, I still do...I know their every movement but what they don't know is I am willing to betray them for you, Natalia.”

Secret Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

[saltycharacters]

[ID: Artwork mainly featuring Serizawa Katsuya and Reigen Arataka from Mob Psycho 100. The first is a doodle of Reigen and Serizawa sorting through papers, with Serizawa's head resting on Reigen's lap while he cards his fingers through his curls. Next is a drawing of them middle-aged, Serizawa now 50 with a ponytail, purple suit, and a bit more facial hair, and Reigen, now 48, has a prominent grey hair streak, less hair, and a yellow tie. Following that is a page with Reigen and Serizawa drawn over the two guys on a bus meme, but the two guys are facing the sunny window and holding each other. This is labeled as "serirei angst fics (with happy ending)". Below is a short comic with Reigen and Serizawa at a bar, with Reigen, after having one drink, saying, "Just wanted to say I have a crush on you bad. Been feeling this for montgs now and I think it's time I told you about my feelings fr". Serizawa, in shy awe, responds with, "oh... Wait who's that other guy?", to which Reigen clarifies, "Oh he's here for moral support", panning to Shinra also at the bar. Dimple floats above him saying, "LMFAOOOOO be so fr rn" as Shinra says, "I'm here for you. Do yo thing". This is labeled as serirei Reigen-gets-drunk fics. Final drawing is a comic with Serizawa and Reigen eating at a table, and as Serizawa notices Reigen wearing his Season 2 hanten, says, "Oh hey! You found my old hanten!" to which Reigen responds, "Yeah, dug it out of some boxes from under the bed". Serizawa, extending a hand, says, "I was wondering where that went! Give it here, I'll go ahead and get rid of it. No use having it take up space since I no longer-" then pauses what he's saying as he sees Reigen clutch the hanten in a death grip and stare at him with a scary aura. Eventually, Serizawa sheepishly looks away and amends, "O-or... we could just... keep it..." to which Reigen exclaims, "GREAT idea 'Tsuya!". End ID]

Needed to post some final Serirei b4 pride month ends

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Don't forget, help Palestine:

-> arab.org <- Click once a day for free

-> gazaesims.com <- Instructs how to donate esims

-> gazafunds.com <- Randomly selects a fundraiser for you to support

-> Fundraiser spreadsheet <- Lists Gazan fundraisers

-> Operation Olive Branch Spreadsheet <- Lists other ways to support

-> Resource link google doc <- Has tons of information and links