#Mob Boss AU

[mikkomacko]

Him and I

Y'all asked and I have done my best to deliver! This ended up being sooo long and I have so much more I want to write so pls pls pls send in requests for mob boss Nico! Enjoy x

Pairing: Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: cussing, sexual language, mentions of weapons, blood, violence

~~~~

The room rings loud with the clattering of dishes, silverware scraping platters, drink glasses clinking together, but most of all laughter.

You watch the bubbles in your champagne glass fizzle up towards the rim, smiling softly at the way Nico’s chest shakes with laughter against your side. The arm around your waist tightens every time he chuckles, the fingers on your thigh digging into your bare skin.

You’re not listening to whatever Timo is saying that has him laughing like this, but it doesn’t matter to you. All that you care about is that he’s safe at home, happy and having fun with his family.

Looking up from your glass, you take in the room. The overly large dining table is filled with men and boys, everyone crowded over messy dinner plates and drinks. Holtz is feeding scraps to the towering Saint Bernard Nico gifted you when you moved in with him, laces of drooling pooling under the dog’s mouth.

You place your hand over Nico’s on your thigh, slipping your fingers between his calloused ones when he flips his palm over for you. Neither of you say a word, him caught up in conversation and you still admiring the boys in front of you.

Jack and Luke catch your eye, the two brothers bickering a few seats over from you. They’re smirking and poking at each other with their silverware, whatever teasing words falling from their lips lost to you. They’re so endearing, you think as they mock each other, a testament to true brotherhood. Before you can get too sappy over how much they love each other, you realize Luke has stupidly wrapped his hand around the blade of a steak knife Jack had pointed at him.

The warning words are on the tip of your tongue when Jack tugs the knife back and you roll your eyes as blood immediately seeps out from Luke’s clenched fist.

“Jack!” You scold, setting your champagne glass on the table and rising from Nico’s lap. It’s at that moment that the rest of the table realizes crimson red blood is pooling into Luke’s lap and Jack is holding the stained knife.

Rushing around the corner of the table, you tug a cloth napkin off of Daws lap as you rush to Luke. Almost helplessly he pushes his chair out, holding his hand out to you with wide eyes. The wound has begun making a mess on the white marble floors and you dog the splatters of red to get closer.

He opens his hand and you wrap the cloth around it tightly, holding his hand tightly and nudging him up from his seat with a hand on his back.

“Cleaned by the time I get back.” You tell Jack, who’s watching you with a guilty hunch to his shoulders.

“Come on Luke,” you murmur. Tugging the knife from Jack’s palm, you place it on the table and point to the floor. He simply nods, letting you lead Luke off to the bathroom to take care of his hand.

Nico finds you ten minutes later standing over Luke, first aid kit splayed out on the bathroom counter. The young boy sits on the closed toilet seat, his hand held out to you as you finish the last couple stitches.

“How’s he looking boss?” Nico greets, sliding up behind you and looking over your shoulder. Like always, the stitches are clean and neat.

“A little stupid,” you tease, tying off the thread. Nico steps back so you can place the needle and scissors down, swiping a wet rag over Luke’s palm before you wrap a bandage around it.

He tentatively flexes his hand, wincing slightly before looking up at you with a bright smile. That smile fades when he sees the way you’ve got your hands on your hips, one eyebrow cocked.

“What?” He asks, eyes looking between you and Nico. You jab a finger into his shoulder and he flinches, rubbing at the spot as if you could actually hurt him.

“If I ever see you grab the blade of a knife like that I’m kicking your ass and then calling your mother.”

Luke deflates at your words, sullenly nodding. You stare him down for a moment before motioning towards the door. “Go. Drink some water and make Jack get you a cookie.”

He scampers away like a kicked puppy, disappearing down the hallway. Before you can even move, Nico is sliding up behind you again and wrapping his arms around your middle.

His nose brushed the side of your neck, the messy strands of his hair tickled your ear. “That was sexy,” he mumbled lowly, his voice just a rumble. “I like see you get all stern with the boys.”

Butterflies warmed your belly, fluttering in circles beneath his large palms. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, kissing softly at your skin. “So hot seeing my baby boss everyone around…” he dots more kisses along your neck, his breath hot and sticky. Instinctively you melt into his hold, knees growing weak from his attention.

“and then go you’ll go upstairs tonight and bend over for me, won’t you?”

Heat rises to your face, and you’re unsure if it’s embarrassment at his words or because he’s right.

You stand up straight and shove his hold off in favor of cleaning up the bathroom. Nico snickers behind you and when you meet his gaze through the bathroom mirror, he’s smirking.

“Go make sure my house is cleaned up,” you demand through a pout, trying to shake off his teasing. “Or there will be no bending over from me.”

He looks you up and down, his gaze returning to yours and he drops his left eye in a wink. “Yes ma’am,” he complies, smirk still plastered on his face as he lovingly smacks at your ass before leaving.

Deciding to leave the night to Nico, you disappear upstairs to change and wash up for bed. By the time you tiptoe back to the dining room everything has been cleared away and all the boys sent home.

You find your boyfriend in the kitchen, standing over the sink with his back to you. He must not have heard you over the sound of the water running so you take a moment to just watch him.

He’s abandoned the button up he was wearing earlier and now just a skimpy, see through white tank top stretches over his back and shoulders. With each scrub of the wine glasses he’s washing, the ridges of his back dip and rise, pulling that thin fabric even tighter.

You don’t know how long you stand there watching him, but you don’t move until he’s setting the last glass out to dry. His wet fingers tuck his hair behind his ear before reaching for a dishcloth. It’s then that he catches sight of you over his shoulder and he turns, tangling his hands in the fabric and leaving back against the counter.

“Sneaky, aren’t ya?”

You bite back a smile, slinking towards him with a shy little shrug. “Mhmmm,” you draw out, letting your hands slide around his waist. He widens his stance, lets your feet step between his so you can press up close to him.

Nico tosses the rag onto the counter, his dry hands coming up to hold either side of your face. He tilts your chin up until you hold his gaze, the warmth of his dark eyes washing over you like sunshine. Despite his stature and his lifestyle, you’ve never thought of Nico as anything more than a sweetheart.

He’s the most gentle, loving, and kind person you’ve ever met. You take in his features, wonder how anyone can see anything more than his soft lips and scruffy beard that love tickle your face, the straight nose that tucks into the top of your head when he holds you, and the puppy dog eyes that admire your every move.

A gentle smile lifts his lips, dimples sinking into his cheeks and you bask in the light of it. Chuckling quietly, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Come on baby,” he says, dropping his hands to your hips and walking you back towards the stairs. “Let me take you to bed.”

Reluctantly you turn around, reaching behind you for his hand to guide him through the house and up to the bedroom. On your way you spot the dog splayed out on his large bed in the living room, and you smile knowing Nico will happy about that.

Once in the bedroom, Nico drops your hand in favor of pawing at your ass and hips. You shake his hands off, turning to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. He pulls you into him, gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you up onto the mattress.

Crowding over you, Nico lays between your parted thighs. You tangle your fingers in his hair and draw his mouth back down to yours. He presses the bulge of his jeans into you, groaning softly when you buck your hips up into him.

“Nico,” you breathe out when he trails his mouth across your jaw, dipping down to the column of your throat.

A mumble of approval rumbles in his chest, his teeth nipping at your skin and you know he’s gonna leave a mark.

“Say my name baby,” he mutters into your skin, snaking a hand between the two of you so he can rub at your clit through your pajama bottoms.

“Oh Nico-“

An all too familiar ringtone makes you both freeze, his phone vibrating in the pocket of his sweats. Laying your head back on the mattress, you try not to sigh in disappointment as he huffs and moves back to dig the stupid phone out.

“What?” He answers, still kneeling between your spread legs. His left hand still strokes up and down your thigh, his eyes following the movement like he’s trying not to look too closely at you.

“Timo man I can’t do this right now- no I-what do you mean?”

By now you know this a call Nico’s going to have take care of himself so you gently push yourself up, taking a hold of his hand and sitting criss cross in front of him.

Nico huffs, squeezing your fingers. “Yeah, come stay with her. I’ll be there in 20.”

Without so much as a goodbye he’s hanging up the phone, tucking it back into his pocket. Nico sighs, hanging his head and taking a few deep breaths. You’re unsure if he’s trying to prepare for whatever was on the other end of that call or if he’s trying to get rid of the hard-on you were previously grinding on so you just stroke through his hair, pushing the loose strands out of his face.

After a moment he rises from the bed, bringing your hand up to his lips for an apologetic kiss. “M’so sorry baby but I gotta go. Timo got word that the Rags are screwing around on this side of the river.”

You simply nod, knowing this was part of the deal when you decided to be with Nico. He leans down again, kissing your lips just once with gratitude. “I promise I’ll be back soon and we’ll finish this.”

Giggling, you shoo him away and lay back on the bed to watch him slip on his zip up and shove his feet into some shoes.

“Timo is coming to stay with you until I get back.” Nico says, his tone all business as he stuff his things into his pockets and slides his ring back onto his pinky finger.

“He didn’t have to,” you say, climbing up from the bed when Nico begins digging through the top dresser drawer. You reach into his nightstand, grabbing the pocket knife you know he was looking for.

“I would’ve been fine,” you approach him, holding the knife out. “But thank you.”

Nico smiles, taking the weapon from you with a chaste kiss. “S’just in case,” he explains, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket. You reach for his necklace, pull out the Devils horn charm and cross so that it gleams on the dark fabric of his track suit.

“Ok, I’ll be back soon baby girl.” Nico says in goodbye and you press a kiss to his cheek before walking him down to the garage. Just as he’s leaving, the familiar headlights of Timo’s BMW pull in the drive and you head to the living room, ready for a movie night with your best friend.

~

The sun hasn’t even begun to rise when you wake up, disturbed by the empty space on the bed next to you. On your nightstand, the alarm clock reads 3:47 and you frown when you realize it’s been hours since Nico left.

Pushing back the covers, you tiptoe away from the bed and towards the door. If Nico’s not home, you doubt Timo has actually gone to bed so you carefully pad down the stairs and to the living room.

Just as you suspected, Timo is pacing back and forth in front of the couch, the dog watching him with alert eyes. You enter the room, reaching down to pet your good boy when he slinks down from the couch to sit by your feet.

“Haven’t heard from him?” You ask when Timo looks up from his phone at you. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, hair mussed like he’s been tugging at it. “Like at all?”

Timo shakes his head, a guilty frown tugging his lips down. A surge of anger flushes through you and you almost throw something at him for it. He should’ve woken you up hours ago when I became clear that something was wrong.

“What phone does he have with him?” You ask, swallowing down your frustration and anxiety. Nico taught you what to do, how to act. You know how to be in charge.

“His red one but the signal went out at 12 and I haven’t been able to ping it.”

Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest and push past him. Like a lost puppy he follows you, as does your actually puppy. Nico’s office is unlocked, the door cracked open and you push inside with the two stragglers right behind you.

“What are you doing?”

You sit at his desk, shaking the mouse to wake up his computer and the bright screen burns at your tired eyes. Clicking out of Nico’s account, you quickly pull up the one you’d made when you moved in.

Timo comes to stand behind you, watching you type in your childhood nickname as the user and NicosHotA$$$ for the password. He snickers behind you and in any other situation you’d probably giggle with him, but you’re still upset that he didn’t wake you earlier.

“Does he know you have this?” Timo asks, leaning in closer over your shoulder. You quickly pull up the software you were looking for, the login to the tracking app popping up. You enter the same credentials, only hesitating for a moment. You haven’t used this software since you set it up, not having a reason to. It was for emergencies and emergencies only.

“No he doesn’t,” you finally answer, logging in and letting the map load. After a brief second of buffering, the screen focuses in on a bright red dot sitting just off to the side of the Hudson River.

“You chipped him?!”

Scoffing, you snatch a piece of paper off the oak desk and a ball point pen, scribbling the address down.

“No I chipped his watch,” you respond “after he assigned you to follow me 24/7 I figured I deserved the same kind of security for him.”

You log out, making sure to put everything back how Nico had it before shutting the computer off. “Let’s go, you’re driving.” You instruct, “I just need to change real quick.”

Timo physically bawks, looking at you like you’re crazy. “Nico will kill me if I let you go anywhere.”

“If you don’t, I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill Nico.”

Your threat hangs in the air, Timo now silent as he just looks at you. He must be analyzing his next move, trying to figure out a way to stop you but he knows his place.

He may technically be Nico’s right hand man, but you’re the bosses girl. When Nico’s not in charge, you are. It’s unspoken, but he knows.

“Fine,” he agrees. “I’ll go start the car.”

~~~~

Nico has no idea how long he's been sitting in this stupid warehouse with this stupid cloth between his teeth and this stupid thick ass rope around his wrists and ankles. If it had been duct tape he'd been outta here hours ago, back home rolling around in the sheets with you where he belongs.

But this isn't his first rodeo with the Rags, and they've learned their lesson about tying any of his men up with duct tape. Nico's trained them well, taught them to take care of themselves. Especially since the Rags have a thing for holding the Devs hostage, though this is the first time they've managed to grab him.

It's because he was distracted, head still swirling with thoughts of his hands on your thighs, his finger touching and teasing you, winding you up until you were crying his name.

Next thing he knew, his little rumble in the bar alley with Trouba and Kreider was him being sucker punched unconscious and waking up in this stupid, bitter cold room.

And no one has come to talk to him, to threaten him, nothing. It's all feeling useless.

He's wiggling his wrists, the skin raw and no doubt bleeding now, when he hears stirring above his head. His head is a little too foggy to really put the sounds together, but he's certain he hears a body thud to the ground. There's some more grunting and thuds, and Nico relaxes a bit when he realizes Timo probably sent Siegs or Haula after him.

For the first time that night he hears the grinding of a door being yanked open, followed by heavy footsteps and he wishes his stupid chair was facing the other way so he could see who it is. He doesn't have to play the guessing game too long though before the large figure of Timo is stepping into view.

Nico almost yanks his way through the rope at the sight of him, thrashing against his restraints as he glares at his brother in disbelief. One job, Timo had one job, stay with you always. For all they now this could've been planned, Rags could be hounding on you right now because him and Timo left you vulnerable.

"Would you calm down she's fine." Timo grumbles in defense, tucking his handgun into the waist of his pants in favor of yanking the cloth out of Nico's mouth.

"I told you not to leave her alone, fucker! She's-"

He's cut-off by an all too familiar voice. "Sneaky, right?" You run your fingers through his sweaty hair at the nape of his neck, soothing him for just a moment before working at the knot in the cloth. It loosens, drops from his neck and into his lap.

Timo has retrieved his gun again, keeping a close eye on the door behind Nico. The click of a blade cuts through the room and the rope on his wrists goes taut.

“What are you doing here?” He grumbles, wincing at the pull on his wounds.

You finish cutting through the rope, his arms falling limply behind him. “Sorry my love,” you murmur, fingers gently taking in the torn skin. “I was just saving you.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you sounded sweet, like you were coddling him as you realized he was hurt. But he does know better, and he can sense the impatience and annoyance bubbling under your words.

Oh he’s in for an ear full.

Still, he’s never been one to back down so he challenges you a bit. “I have men for that, ya know?”

You release his wrist and he slowly draws his hands around and into his lap, flexing his shoulders to try and get the blood back to his fingertips. He can already feel the ache in his chest and back and he wonders how the fuck you let him hold you like that on his more aggressive nights in bed.

“Men that couldn’t even find you.” You quip back, and he catches your hip as you go to step around him. His hold doesn’t stop you though, and he watches as you kneel down in front of him to cut through the rope at his ankles.

You’ve listened to him well it seems, or just really paid attention because any identifying marks of yours have been covered. Head to toe in black, thick sturdy boots that mimic the ones he wears on particularly dangerous deals, and all jewelry removed. Well everything except the thin gold chain on your neck, the charm tucked into your long sleeve shirt. And the tell-tell red bandana knotted around your face, hiding everything but your eyes.

Smart girl, he thinks, trying not to smile. He’ll praise you for it later, when you’re somewhere safe.

The rope snaps free, your eyes peering up at him through your dark lashes and the bits of your hair that hangs over your face. You don’t say anything, gaze dark and angry as you flick the knife away and sit back on your haunches. Nico immediately stretches his legs out around you, belly swirling when he takes in the sight of you kneeling between his thighs.

You raise an eyebrow, lifting your hand to hold the knife out to him and he realizes you’ve managed to get back his pocketknife. He melts a bit at that, grateful that you thought to look for it, that you always remember its ties to his family back in Switzerland.

He takes it from you, fingers still a bit numb as they wrap around the weapon. Now that your hand is free you lean in, holding onto his knee for balance while the other one reaches up for his face.

You gently stroke right under his eye, a sting of pain ripping through his cheek and he realizes that’s where he’d been hit. You frown, eyebrows pinching together. “Hopefully you haven’t ruined that pretty face with a scar, boss.”

Behind you, Timo snickers and Nico glares at him, catches the way he’s fighting to not look at the two of you and instead watch the door. Whatever he did up there must have been enough damage though because it’s dead silent.

“I know a good doc,” he replies casually, nodding for you to stand up. “She won’t let it scar.”

He rises with you, wobbly on his feet as the feeling rushes back to them and his head spins for a moment. You immediately press into his side, slipping under his arm like you belong there, and steady him.

“She might,” you say flatly, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. He really is proud of you, can’t believe that you came to get him even if he’s gonna give you grief about it.

It’s his job to be tough on you, on everyone.

“Let’s get moving,” Timo cuts in, looking to Nico for his next move. He nods to the door, telling him to the lead way. You’re silent on your feet as you walk with Nico and he makes a mental note to ask you how you manage to do that.

Upstairs, he finds exactly what he expected. Bodies lay limp on the ground, chairs and table strewn about the large room. He can’t make out who is who but he immediately recognizes Trouba laying closest to the door, lip busted and bleeding and the whole side of his face already bruising in what looks like the shape of a boot.

He’ll have to ask Timo about that one too.

~~~~

The rising sun shines through the bedroom windows. Nico runs a towel through his wet hair, wincing at the stiffness in his shoulders and the way the light makes his eyes ache.

Before he can so much as grumble about it, you’re entering the bedroom and hitting the switch on the wall to lower the blackout curtains.

You changed while he was showering, back into the cute set of pink silk pajamas you had on earlier in the night and Nico wants to rub his hands all over you, let the soft fabric soothe his angry wrists.

But you haven’t said a word since leaving the warehouse, except to send Timo off to bed in a guest bedroom and instructing he take the dog with him so he doesn’t get lonely.

Tossing the towel into the hamper, Nico collapses onto the bottom of the bed, shoulders slumping forward as he watches you move around the room. You ignore his gaze, digging through the drawers and bathroom until you come up with a first aid kit.

Finally, you approach him, eyes avoiding his as you kneel in front of him again. Compliant, Nico parts his thighs further you, silently begging you to come closer.

You don’t though, instead gently taking ahold of his ankles and drawing his feet out to you. He lets you manhandle him, relaxes into the mattress as you softly massage numbing cream into the bruises on his skin.

And then you’re moving closer, taking a hold of his hands with your soft, warm fingers and he gives in, feels everything ache in his chest.

“Baby,” he mumbles pathetically, “talk to me? Please?”

You trace over the mark his watch left on his wrist, face still hiding from him. “I chipped your watch,” you admit quietly. “That’s how I found you.”

He can’t say he’s angry or upset with the news. He’s the one that taught you about surveillance, about protection. How in this life, you have to be used to someone always watching you. He just wasn’t used to anyone watching him.

He is surprised though, at how you managed that. The watch was from Switzerland, designed by his family and gifted to him. He doesn’t know how you got the chance to chip it.

“Ok,” he replies, making sure to keep his tone even. “You saved me, ya know?”

You reach into the kit for a roll of bandages. “Yeah,” you wrap the gauze around his right wrist, actions a bit rougher than before “and you gave your men orders to leave me at home like a dog.”

Nico frowns at your town, bitter and biting. You don’t talk to him like that, in all the time you’ve been together he’s never heard you like that. It makes his heart sink, makes him want to crumble to his knees in front of you right now.

You finish wrapping his other wrist, dropping his hands heavily into his own lap. Then you finally look up at him, eyes angry and disappointed. Nico can’t help himself, he takes a hold of your face and draws you up towards him.

“Don’t give me those stupid puppy eyes, Nico.” You mutter, voice rising as he pouts down at you. “I found you, I got Timo off his ass, I got your knife back, and I got you back.

“I did it all and you didn’t trust me to! For fucks sake I knocked out stupid Trouba and you still wanted to rip Timo’s head off for-“

“You knocked Trouba on his ass?” Nico cuts off, a smirk spreading across his face. The sight of him dimples must soften something in you because he manages to get you to your feet.

“That was your cute little boot print on his face?” He prods, coaxing you into sitting on his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You reach for the chain around his neck, fingers taking a hold of the pendant and stroking over the devil horns. Bashful, a tiny smile plays at your face and Nico can’t stop himself for kissing at the tip of your nose.

“He messed with you,” you mumble, softer than you’ve spoken to him all night. “And I love you and being a Dev means protecting who you love.”

Nico’s breathless, swept off his feet by the earnest of your words and the memory of them. The same words he’d told you before giving you your own devil horn pendant. He’d said it soften up the conversation, because telling you everything about being a mob wife was rough, but at the end of the day he meant it.

The Devils are a family, a family built by love and he was so fucking smart and lucky to bring you into this. He’d never ever gotten close to even discussing a prinzessin with his family, until he met you.

Obviously that was the best decision he’s ever made.

“You made me proud,” he cups your jaw, urging you to look up at him. “You always do, but especially tonight.

“I was scared to let you get to this side of things because I’ve never done this. I’ve never ruled with someone but after tonight, I know I couldn’t have asked for a better prinzessin to have by side.”

Your teeth sink into your lip, a blush rising in your neck and ears but your eyes have gone all moony and lovesick. He loves that look on you.

“That’s a big word for you to use,” you mumble, a hopeful lilt in your tone. “I don’t even have a ring yet.”

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to your cheek and then your chin and finally on your smiling lips. “You will,” he confirms “and you’ll by my princess.”

You tangle your hands in his hair, giggling as you yank him into another kiss. Nico lets himself get lost in you, pulls you close and holds you tight in his large palms. His brain swirls, the pain of his injuries fading as he losses his breath and himself.

His hands are wondering towards your ass when you pull back from him, lips swollen and messy as you giggle.

“Enough of that boss, I gotta fix that pretty face of yours and you need rest.”

Yeah, the best fucking decision he’s ever made was letting you into his life.

#nico hischier #mob boss au #mob boss nico hischier #new jersey devils #nhl #nj devils #nico hischer x reader

[buckets-and-trees]

SALT (Bucky x Reader)

Fandom: MCU Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2.8k  Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You've risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you're rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is someone equally as relentless to get what he wants.

Content Warnings: imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, non-graphic cream pie (not the food kind)

Additional Notes: Written for @the-slumberparty's April Mob AU challenge. Using dark prompt #23 (bolded in the dialogue).

tagging some peeps who showed interest in the preview for this little thing: @sidepartskinnyjeans @vonalyn @winterslove1917

“You’re not serious, Stanley.”

“I am.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Sure. Whatever. I don’t have time for customer meet and greets during a normal service, let alone tonight of all nights.”

“You will do it,” Stanley insisted, “because it’s James Barnes and he’s got more money and influence than any god. He owns the mob scene in this town.”

When your maître d’ didn’t say anything more, you turned to truly look at him. 

You frowned but set down your pan with a huff. “Fine. Charlie, take over while I apparently go make an appearance.”

“Table twenty-seven,” Stanley said, handing you a clean dish towel, which you pressed against your forehead, cheeks, and neck as you headed for the door that led from kitchen to dining area, tossing the towel in the laundry bin under one of the counters. 

You pushed past the kitchen doors and walked through the dining room towards table twenty-seven, one of the handful booths and tables nestled in small alcoves that offered a little more privacy for VIP reservations, set off on a small dais with walls of green plants strategically placed to create ambience while sectioning off the area from curious eyes and a plethora of potential phone cameras. 

There were five individuals seated around the table, but he drew your attention first as you approached. He clocked your progress before any of his companions, and when he looked up, his stare fixed on you with such intensity that you took a brief pause before your next step, which he clearly noted, and the corner of his mouth ticked up in the slightest smirk. It made your blood heat with irritation, but you focused on remaining calm and professional as you stepped up to the table. 

“This was an exquisite meal, Chef,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions to you immediately.

“Thank you,” you replied. 

“Sam here hasn’t been able to shut up about it since the first course came out,” a blonde man sitting to his right said. 

“And you haven’t left even a crumb on your plate through any course, Steve,” he chided back good naturedly. 

Each of them had a girl tucked in next to them, but not the man with dark hair and steel blue eyes you still found it difficult to look away from who had to be the infamous James. His friends and their companions continued to rave for another minute or two about different parts of the meal’s courses. You expected them to be closer to the age of your parents, not much nearer yours. 

“Well, thank you again,” you finally said. “We’re pleased to have you dining at our restaurant tonight. Devour is a dream for all of us on the staff. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the kitchen to oversee final preparations for the dessert course.”

“I’m eager for what’s to come next, Chef,” he said, looking you up and down, his eyes darkening. You’d delivered the overture for your exit, but he somehow made it clear it was only with his approval that you would leave in that moment. 

Twenty minutes later, you sprinkled a touch of flaky salt over the ribbon of whiskey-laced caramel drizzled over the chocolate mousse, Charlie adorned it with a perfect rosette of the Chantilly cream, and you slid the final plate across to Stanley, who put it on the final tray and sent the waiter on his way. 

“That’s service, everyone!” you announced, and some of the staff clapped and whooped. 

You smiled, truly satisfied. Charlie bumped elbows with you, and when you turned your head to look at him, you couldn’t help the genuine smile bursting across your face. 

“Truly a triumph for you taking over,” Stanley said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You’ve more than earned your new title as the executive chef of Devour and this kitch–“

He was cut off as there was a burst of activity at the doors coming in from the dining room. “Everyone, clear the kitchen! Out the back, please,” came a booming voice that you’d heard speak much more congenially earlier in the dining room. It was clear this man was used to giving orders and having them followed without question. 

“Excuse me,” Stanley turned to look, but on seeing who was sweeping in and ushering his staff out before him, but his tone shifted when he saw who was giving the orders – now guarded but polite, “Oh, Mr. Rogers.”

“And if I could have a word with you in particular,” Steve said, addressing Stanley and nodding towards the back. 

“Of course,” he responded.

You and Stanley exchanged a glance, and you began clearing out with the rest, but Steve put a hand on your shoulder. “Not you,” he said a little more quietly. “You stay here.”

You frowned and tilted your head as you looked up at him. He only smirked at you. 

“The rest of you, keep it moving, let’s go!”

You chewed on your bottom lip and let your hand drop to the silver surface of the counter where your fingers immediately began to drum impatiently. After a moment you turned to look over at the door to the dining room, and your breath hitched. 

He was there, leaning up against the door frame, blue eyes fixed on you. 

His face was unreadable, and so you tried to keep your face blank as well as he stalked toward you, coming around the plating area and to your side of the counter. 

“What is this, Mr. Barnes?”

“I’m buying this restaurant. Steve’s arranging everything with Stanley right now.”

Your brow furrowed.

“I own this kitchen, and I own you, Chef.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he put two fingers to your lips. 

“I’m tripling your salary,” he said as he stepped right into your space, backing you up against the counter, only a breath of space between you. 

Your heart was racing for too many reasons – anger, incredulity, but also a thrill of arousal. You wanted to refuse him, but he also drew you in, and you could not deny that. You knew he was dangerous, you were infuriated by his audacity, and yet…

“You can’t turn down an offer like that,” he continued, “especially not after the years of hard work I know you put in for the executive chef apron in this kitchen. Our stories are not so different in that way. You earned this. You won’t walk away.” 

“I can–“

“But you won’t,” he cut over you. You glowered, but he ignored your slow burning anger and instead reached around behind your back to tug at the ties of your apron. Then his voice dropped down an octave as he spoke again, “Don’t fight me. You will give yourself to me.”

“I won’t.” You cocked your chin up.

“You will,” he insisted. He pulled the black apron away from your body and tossed it onto the counter behind you.

“You will give yourself to me now.” He pushed forward, pinning you to the counter with his pelvis. You tried to suppress a shaky exhale, feeling his erection pressing into you.  “Soon you will warm my bed,” he bent his head down to ghost a kiss at your temple, then another on your cheek, before he moved his mouth further down and murmured his next threat down the column of your throat, “and I promise it won’t be long until you will beg for me to take you apart without any coercion.”

When his tongue darted out over the sensitive spot just under your jaw, a whimper escaped from your chest before you could stop it, and you felt him smile against your skin. 

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please, anyone could catch us.”

He chuckled. “Sam and Steve are preventing that,” he said, pulling away just enough to start unbuttoning your black chef’s jacket. “But,” he continued, “if you make too much noise, you’ll confirm that we’re doing anything more than talking.” 

Once he had finished with all the buttons, he pushed the coat open. Your eyes were still closed until you felt the cool edge of a knife on your sternum, and your eyes burst open again, fear and adrenaline rushing through your body, but luckily he wasn’t looking at your face, focused instead on your chest where his metal fingers skimmed lightly over the bared skin for just a moment before they gripped the fabric of your black camisole and bra while his other hand tore his knife down in a swift movement, splitting your undergarments down the middle, putting your chest on full display for his hungry eyes. He pushed the clothing out of the way fully only over your left shoulder. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes again. “Dessert was exquisite, but it didn’t satisfy what I wanted.”

He reached for a nearby saucepan, which still had a ladle in it, and smiled as he gave it a stir. You watched as he took a scoop of the caramel sauce and poured a little over the round swell of your breast. It was warm, and started to slowly spread, but not enough to drip and make a mess. You imagined in his line of work, he knew how to be precise, not leave anything extra to clean up. He set the pan back down on the counter, and then reached for something else, returning with a pinch of the flaky salt that he then sprinkled over the caramel. 

For a moment he merely admired his handiwork. then his warm hand came up to cup the underside of your breast, and then his mouth descended to lap up the salted caramel from your tender flesh. Heat bloomed across your chest and straight to your head and your core, his ministrations eliciting a low moan from you. He hummed in approval, then took your nipple into his mouth. Your nipples were always very sensitive, and he was not careful with his attention there, sucking, nipping, and licking until you whimpered and tried to push him away. He kept mouthing painfully at your nipple another moment longer. 

He leaned back for a moment to look own at you, scrutinizing your face. You were not sure what he saw there, truthfully you didn’t know how to feel and what front to put up, but whatever he assessed didn’t deter him. 

He lifted one hand to your neck and then trailed the back of his fingers down your sternum, between your breasts, over your stomach, a light touch that wasn’t rushed, knowing he could draw a shiver of anticipation from you with the purposeful action. He unbuttoned your pants, and as he slipped his hand into your panties and cupped your mound, he leaned in close to your ear and softly said, “You earned this, too, Chef.”

His fingers sought your folds. “And you are wet for me.” You didn’t need to see his face to imagine the satisfaction that must be there – it was evident in his tone. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear. “Close like this,” he whispered, “I’ll still hear even the small pretty noises I’m going to draw from you with my fingers in your cunt.”

And even though you were expecting it – dreading it? – you gasped when he quickly thrust two fingers inside you, knuckles deep, and moved them expertly in and out of your tight heat, questing and quickly finding the sensitive spongy spot on the front of your pelvic wall. You bit your lip to keep keening as quiet as you could, and your arms gripped his biceps, looking for an anchor to reality. He played your pussy quickly, nimble and knowing fingers familiarizing themselves too easily with your body for your comfort. 

His thumb went to work expertly drawing tight circles over your clit, still thrusting his fingers inside you, and the additional stimulation forced you into an intense orgasm you didn’t want to give him, burrowing your face into his neck to smother your small cry of ecstasy. 

You didn’t want to see his face – undoubtedly haughty knowing he’s pleased you despite you wanting to refuse him the satisfaction – and in this you are spared at least for the moment as without pretense he abruptly spins you around and tugs your pants and underwear down your thighs. You heard the quick unbuckling of his belt and unzipping of his pants as he freed his hard length. You had only a second to brace yourself against the countertop as he gripped your hip with one hand and used his other to guide his tip to your thoroughly slick and ready opening. One full and quick thrust had him fully sheathed inside you, punching the air from your lungs. He leaned forward against your back, his mouth close to your ear again. “Feel me in there? Stretching you to the limit.” 

He rolled his hips ever so slightly, slowly, and your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Yes, Chef. Just like that.”

He pulled his hips back, then gave another slow and powerful drive into your cunt. “Feel as smooth and velvety around my cock as that caramel sauce was on my tongue.” While one hand remained on your hip, as he began to pick up the pace with his thrusts his other hand brushed up your spine, then moved around to grasp your breast, the one he’d overstimulated just a few minutes before. You whimpered and tried to jerk away, but you’re met with his strong chest up against your back. He chuckled and then began to tweak and roll the nipple between his fingers. 

You tried to pull his hand away, still whimpering. 

“I intend to leave you feeling me for days from this, Chef,” he growls in your ear. His thrusts become rougher, faster, slamming into you over and over again. Your hands pulled at his wrist torturing your nipple, but your strength was nothing to his, and soon tears were spilling down your cheeks. When an audible sob escaped your throat, he finally relented and released your breast, but then he gripped your hips with both hands, showing no mercy for your pussy as he chased his own pleasure. 

Without the pain, your body focused only on the pleasure mounting in your core now. This felt good. He felt good. His cock filled you exquisitely. You tried to rock your hips just slightly to where you know he’d hit that pleasurable spot in you again, but he controlled the movement and forced you to stay at the angle he wanted. 

“This one is for me, Chef, not you,” he grunted. 

Still, you pant together, lungs heaving, and you’re hurtling toward another orgasm. His hips stutter for a moment, and with a groan he releases his spend inside you, slowing his movements. 

You couldn’t hold back a needy whine as he pulled out of you. You looked over your shoulder at him incredulously, edged to the very moment before but then denied your second release. 

He paused after tucking his softening cock back into his boxer briefs and gripped your chin, demanding an abrasive kiss from your lips. “When you come apart on my cock, I want to watch your beautiful face and hear you beg for me.”

Years in the kitchen have taught you to hold back your words when there’s even a shade of uncertainty, and you are uncertain if you will give him what he wants or not, because you can’t deny that your body absolutely wants him, and part of your spirit does, too. Relentless power recognizing another like its own, and you hate that you’re more than a little intrigued. You don’t want to just give him what he wants, but a tiny sliver of you whispers that you shouldn’t cut off your nose just to spite him. 

You pulled up your pants while you heard him zip and buckle his own pants again. One he had tucked in his shirt, again with swift precision, he turned you back around to face him. He reached for your apron, wiped his hands, then set it back on the counter. He didn’t mess with your torn shirt and bra other than to adjust them well enough so he could close your chef coat and button that back up over your chest. 

He gazed right into your eyes again, brushing his thumb over your lips, parting them slightly, then pushing them closed again. 

“I’ll be back for more soon,” he finally said, then walked away without another word. 

Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

LINK TO PART TWO: FAT

#mob!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover #bucky smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!bucky #mob boss au #mob boss! avengers #f!reader #aspen wrote something #female reader

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Little Girl Gone Mob Boss AU Headcanons

A/N: Alright my brain woke up feral this morning with a bunch of head canons for my new series that I've been working on so here you go the fruit of my labor. Also there are mentions of t*row up, mentions of killing, and actual depictions of killing so please read at your own caution. 18+ HC are marked as such

Minors/men DNI

SFW

-Y/N buying Wanda all the pretty rings and necklaces because you love seeing her wear them

-Wanda shows you pictures from high school when she was emo which is something you hadn't expected from the suburban mom

-After you learn this information you slowly add things to her wardrobe such as black skirts like she used to wear and band shirts and fishnetting

-The first time you see her in a little black pleated skirt you go feral. Luckily the boys are at school and you take her right on the kitchen counter

-She decides to wear skirts more often after that. Usually when she wants something.

-You slowly teach the boys how to fight, but don't introduce them to anything dangerous. Not until they're much much older.

-Wanda also eventually gets in on the self defense lessons

-Wanda and you go out regularly for date nights and taking the boys out trying to keep your lives as normal as possible

-When you propose to Wanda it’s at a fancy restaurant where you guys have a private room

-She says yes (of course) and you couldn’t be happier

-You guys decide to have your wedding in Sokovia and do a traditional Sokovian wedding

-When you guys have your first dance you include the boys where you start the dance together then you dance with Billy and her with Tommy and then you two switch off.

-You guys end up having a baby girl after getting married

-At this point the boys would be old enough that you offer the choice to them of joining and both do say yes, but Billy focuses on the business side of things and asks to go to college for business. He ends up double majoring in Business and law.

-Tommy also goes for a business degree, but ends up switching to go into nursing and becomes a Trauma Certified Registered Nurse to be able to deal with injuries that happen in the family business.

NSFW 🔞 

-Both you and Wanda are switches

-the first time you two try and do things and she calls herself ‘Mommy’ it sends you into a PTSD panic attack because of Natasha calling herself Daddy.

-Wanda soothes you back down and is such a soft Dom the whole time and everytime until you ask for more.

- “M-Mommy please r-rougher,” your lips parted, tongue out as you try to roll your hips on her strap. She's edged you for hours into a blissed out state.

- “Whatever my princess wants she'll get.” She grabs your hips with a bruising force as she sinks deeper and moves her hips roughly until you're screaming and crying and begging Mommy to let you cum

- “You've been such a good girl. Go on cum for Mommy baby. You deserve it for being such a good girl.” 

-The first time you were on top you weren't sure because you had never done it, but you wanted to try it. 

-You realized how good it felt but struggled with what you wanted Wanda to call you. Mistress, Master, Sir, Ma'am, King, Queen, Goddess, Owner, Handler, Boss, Captain. You two felt like you went through everything until one night Wanda tentatively brought it up,

- “I know how you feel about it, but maybe…we could try Daddy?” Her words throw you through a loop. “I think it could be helpful even. You'd be such a better Daddy than her.” Wanda puts a reassuring hand on your thigh. “You'd be the best.”

-It's her words of encouragement that make you give it a try because she just sounds so soft and genuine.

-You have Wanda beneath you, a pretty collar and leash on her as you slowly sink inside of her with the cum filled strap the two of you recently purchased. 

-Once your hips start moving, slow at first, you're hitting that spot that she loves and she just moans out, “Right there Daddy! Please Daddy harder!” And you go absolutely feral as you pump harder and rougher, pulling on her leash as you do so, both of you having a rather quick build up, “Gonna breed you baby. Gonna have my babies inside of you. You're gonna give me a set of twins right?” Wanda is so blissed out that all she can manage is, “Yesh Daddy m'gon cum!”

-During the aftercare Wanda assures you of how much she loved it. She could see how worried you were over becoming more like Natasha, but her words soothed you.

-As you two were cuddling up, watching TV afterwards she spoke up, “Would you actually want another set of twins?” You shrug, “if it happened I wouldn't be upset, but I'd love to even just make one mini us.” You tell her wholeheartedly which brings tears to her eyes. “I love you Wands. I wanna spend forever with you. I know this lifestyle isn't ideal for a family, but-” she cuts you off with a bruising kiss as she crawls into your lap. “I love you too Y/N/N. We'll make it work. I fell in love with this, with you so we'll make it work.”

NSFW Mob life HC

-You still take care of business mostly at home.

-The basement is off limits to the boys and is under several locks along with a fingerprint scanner and a pass code only you, Carol, and Maya know. 

-One day Wanda comes with you to the basement even though you've told her a million and one times that she doesn't have to be involved in the business she insists. 

-She watches a side of you she's never seen before. The side that Natasha created. It's almost as if she's watching Natasha pull strings on you.

-You torture someone for hours before getting the information from them. You grab your gun and look at Wanda, eyes cold as she trembles.

- “You can look away darling.” You tell her, but she doesn't, eyes fixed on you as the man begs and pleads for his own life, but he made the mistake of being on the wrong side of things, on Natasha’s side. 

- “If I let you go Natasha will pick up where I left off. Slowly torturing you until you die a slow and painful death. This is mercy.” You tell him and fire your gun right between his eyes. Blood and brain splatter everywhere. Especially on you.

- “Carol, clean this mess up and show Kamala how it’s done. She needs to learn. I need a shower and I need this all done and out of the house before the boys get home. I'm gonna send Maya out with America to check up on the info we were given.” 

-You turn your attention to Wanda holding out a hand to her, “Come on darling. Shower.” There was some blood on her and you helped her upstairs. Wanda didn't talk the whole time until you were drying her hair on the bed. “How do you do that?” She whispers and you barely catch it.

- “When Natasha trained me. I actually threw up a lot. It disgusted me to my core. I had a hard time handling it, but everytime I did something right she'd praise me. Reward me. The last time I killed for her she praised me because I only threw up after I killed the man. Now I'm…it's like I'm not me. I dissociate from it in the moment.” 

-Wanda turns towards you, crawling into your lap, nuzzling against your neck and letting her hands get under your shirt and onto your back for more skin contact. “Thank you for taking care of us. I always appreciated it before, from the moment you saved us, but now after seeing what you do…I can appreciate it even more.”

-After much back and forth Wanda wants to help out. At first you have her work in your office at the computer on record keeping, but she says she wants to get out of the house so you allow her on safe calls. Mainly to get money from people along with Kamala. 

-You never let her go into dangerous situations. 

-You always make sure Maya tails the two girls when they go out especially when Wanda first starts, but you see that Wanda is able to handle her own.

-One time Wanda comes home trying to hide all the cuts, scraps, and bruises after fighting with someone over their rent.

-You freak out when you see it and after cleaning her all up the two of you go back out and you take care of him in front of Wanda. Showing her how to overpower someone bigger.

-You keep the man on edge making him constantly think that he’s going to die until he’s begging for his life and has pissed himself.

-There comes a breaking point between you and Natasha which leads to an all out war between your two mobs

-After a lot of loss on both sides Natasha and you go at each other which ends up with her losing her life when she can’t just accept how things are now.

-Though Yelena wants to kill you over this Kate convinces her not to

-You and Clint come to an agreement of a truce. Which ends the decade long fight at this point

- “I didn’t want it to end this way.” Tears streamed down your face as your knees crashed to the hard ground beside Natasha’s body. “You were terrible to me. Treated me like I was nothing and yet I still wanted to see you change. To be better!” Wanda holds you as you cry and shake in her arms not realizing all the emotional turmoil that you felt towards Natasha even after all these years.

#ley writes #ley speaks #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #wanda x you #mob boss!reader #mob boss au #little girl gone au #mommy!wanda

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you're always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don't necessarily hate Marc, but you don't get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marvel au #mob boss au #mafia au

[georgiapeach30513]

#AI!Sebastian #mob boss AU

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Darkest Nights - Masterlist

WARNINGS: violent themes, guns/knives, 18+ chapters, toxic/dark Natasha, angst, infidelity, obsession, Nat and reader have a kid

SUMMARY: her, you never thought you'd fall for anyone like her, nor would she be so intoxicating. but her line of work put you in danger. she would protect you.. right?

PAIRING: mob boss!Natasha x Reader

DRABBLES/REQUESTS ♡:

How We Met (repost/18+ themes)

Happiness (fluff, angst)

READ FOR CONTEXT ♤:

Playing Dangerous (smut)

Sinful Affairs (angst, smut)

#SoundCloud #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #dark natasha x reader #dark natasha romanoff #mob boss au #mob boss natasha romanoff

[imfinereallyy]

The Long Con

I saw this tik tok edit of Rachel McAdams in the movie Hot Chick where she gets a milkshake on house (and she's just totally playing the guy) and for some odd reason this spiraled me into thinking about Conman!Steve and Mob Boss!Eddie. So here is my brainrot I guess. Maybe I'll do more parts or make something longer on ao3 if people like it.

Steve wasn't one to not think things through. Yes, he was aware that it was a double negative. He played up the dumb part quite often, but Steve wasn't actually stupid. So it was all part of the game, really.

Steve loved the game. The rush, the push, and the pull of tricking someone, getting them for all their worth. Steve loved the game because it was fun. Steve loved the game because he got to use horrible people for his very lavish lifestyle. There was nothing like living rich by feeding off the rich. Well, he was trying to do that, at least. See, Steve, although good at what he did, he burned through money faster than you could say savings. It wasn't his fault, really. He used to be better at keeping track. Always made sure to have enough, just in case. Hadn't needed to worry about anyone but himself. Because the only thing Steve truly loved for a long time was the game itself.

But then he met people along the way, misfits and criminals like himself that he couldn't help spoiling. The only person who seemed to catch his problem was Robin, but even she couldn't resist a new hard drive for her computer. It's how she made her own money, after all.

Despite his problem with spoiling everyone, Steve always thought things through. He followed the rules of the game without rules and continued to fill his pockets, scamming the deserving and cruel. But sometimes, sometimes for Steve... his abilities and bad habits sometimes, well, overlapped. Sometimes, Steve could have been better at choosing the right people to care about. He was getting better at it, he swears. He let go of the wrong ones a long, long time ago.

But sometimes they came back begging.

Tommy had been someone from his life before. Before being on his own, back when purple and blue were his father's favorite colors to paint him with. It was a time before the game, a time that, although he tries to forget, had a grip on him.

So when Tommy called, seeking forgiveness, seeking help, Steve caved quickly. He would always be that same little boy, looking for love from a past that wasn't there. Tommy wasn't his parents, sure, but it was as close as he would get.

So, yes, steve normally thought things through, but there was the rare occasion, there was the exception to the rule, where Steve majorly fucked up.

He was in Boston when it happened. Even though years ago, Steve swears he would never be going back. He's in a small diner two blocks away from main street. And he had just finished getting Tommy's money back. Steve always celebrated with one of three things: drinks, sex, or milkshakes.

And Steve wanted out of Boston as fast as possible, so he went for his quickest and sometimes tastiest tradition.

"How much do I owe you?" Steve smiled innocently at the waiter, giving his best babygirl face.

The waiter bit his lips as he tried not to stare at Steve's mouth, "It's okay, it's on the house."

Steve licked part of his free milkshake off his finger, "Really?" Steve's voice was an octave higher just for the waiter. He could tell he was someone who had a preference for men, and most likely had a problem with letting go of his masculinity. So Steve knew the more feminine, the better. Steve couldn't help the sly grin that stretched across his face when the waiter got flustered. He was an attention whore; sue him.

His waiter—huh, Andy, according to his name tag—looked like he was about to say something when a throat cleared behind him.

"Andy, doll, you might be wanting to get back to the kitchen for a minute." A deep voice said behind Andy. It sent chills down Steve's spine. The Boston accent with a slight tilt of Irish was enough to captivate him. Andy moved faster than the speed of light at the command.

When Andy disappeared, with his tail between his legs no less, the most beautiful man Steve's ever seen revealed himself. A tall, pale, curly brunette stood before him in a suit with a ripped-up band tee underneath. It shouldn't look good, and it shouldn't look professional, but it did. Steve saw tattoos peeking out from exposed skin, piercings all over his ears, and enough jewelry to start a store. Steve was bewitched.

The mystery man smiled, hands in his pockets, and leaned down slightly into Steve's space. "Oh, sweetheart, I have been looking for you everywhere."

Steve stayed silent, drinking him in; he smelt of mint, smoke, and morning rain.

The man slid into the booth, put his arms on the table, and made a little beat with his knuckles on the plastic. Then, Steve noticed the words "Hell Fire" across his knuckles. Steve's heart sunk to his stomach. He had heard of those hands before. Those hands were famous.

The man leaned his face against his right fist. "Hell" pushed into his cheekbone. "The name is Eddie Munson, love." Eddie looked Steve up and down. "But I think you've already figured that out by now, haven't ya?"

Steve steeled himself. He should be okay. He hadn't wronged this man before, but something, something was telling Steve that he most definitely had. The look in his sweet abyss of eyes told him as much.

A smirk stretched across Eddie's face, and suddenly he kicked the leather bag next to Steve's feet under the table. Steve's cheek twitched slightly for a millisecond, but it was enough to give him away. "It seems here... like you and Hagan have stolen quite a bit of money from me." Eddie tsk-tsked while Steve's heart dropped from his stomach to his feet. Tommy screwed him.

"And that love, well, that just won't do."Steve had never seen such a sweet smile feel so deadly. "So, Sunshine, I am going to make you a deal, and you would be smart to take it."

Steve wasn't actually dumb, but yes, he most definitely did not think this through.

________

Sooo thoughts? I was going to write more but if this was a flop, I didn't want to put my heart in soul into it. But I did spiral a bit with it. Whoops!

edit: I made some grammatical changes but that's it. I realized I kept switching tense changes when I was writing in present, so I changed it to past. I'm much more comfortable with it. Let me know if there are any more errors.

part 2: here

#steddie #steddie fanfic #ficlet #modern au #mob boss au #their both a little dark in this one but also like secretly sweet #steve harrington #steddie writing #steddie prompt #mob boss!eddie #conartist!steve #hacker!robin #the party is there in my mind but I'm still plotting their roles #platonic stobin #always #steve x eddie #writing prompt #fanfic #draw this #wip #ao3 #ao3 steddie #criminals all of them #tommy hagan #steve harrington has bad parent #irish!eddie #boston #stranger things #the party #sorry so many tags

[personallygay22-4]

two versions of some art I made!

some eclipse mafia/mob boss art

first design inspired by @just-a-drawing-bean SJ eclipse

second design is my personal design (and I suppose canon design for Caught in Disaster)

also should credit @naffeclipse for sleuth jesters too :)

#procreate #artwork #digital art #art #eclipse #fnaf dca #dca au #sleuth eclipse #sleuth jesters eclipse #sleuth jesters #mob boss eclipse #mob boss au #Caught in Disaster #Tw guns #cw guns #tw gun #caught in disaster art

[demideviil]

mob boss!Simon Riley

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #dont hate me mom its just for fun #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon riley #mob boss au #aesthetic #i love big men

[mikkomacko]

Him and I: Meet the Hischiers

Pairing: Mob Boss! Nico x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, Nico's crappy parents, and mean girls

A/n: Ok I'm so sorry for how long this is, oh my god. I couldn't not add sweet moments between Nico and reader though, but I promise there's only one more chapter of them in Switzerland before they return to Jersey. Anyway, enjoy and please leave comments and thoughts and requests because I love writing mob boss Nico!

xo

~~~~

Nico’s childhood home is humongous. The SUV rolls up the cobblestone driveway to what you’d consider a mansion, honestly. At least three stories, with fields of snow covered grass and hedges, a looping driveway like at a hotel, and a bright red door.

Everything about it screams elegance.

And yet you can picture a tiny Nico toddling after his older siblings in the grass out front, chasing a soccer ball that was half the size of him.

The mental image eases your nerves enough that you’re able to teasingly scoff and smack at Nico’s arm.

“You didn’t tell me your house is the size of New Jersey!”

Nico rolls his eyes at your drama, taking your hand in his and shrugging. “Yes it’s beautiful,” he agrees “but there’s a reason we’re not staying here. Just remember that, ok?”

Dutifully you nod, but that doesn’t stop you from leaning forward to gape at Timo. Your friend just laughs, directing the car into the spot directly in front of the door.

“The Hischier’s are the closest thing to a royal family here,” he tells you. “And Nico is the delinquent prince that ran away from the crown.”

“Stop lying to her Timo.” Nico interjects, his tone hard and commanding. You immediately sink back into your seat, recognizing that for some reason that was a touchy subject.

You’ll ask him about it later when it’s just the two of you.

This time when the car stops, it’s different men in wool coats that pull open Nico’s car door. They greet him in Swiss German, nodding as he slides out and you follow, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the stone path.

They look taken aback by your presence, both sharing a look you can’t quite read before greeting you with a simple “miss.”

You smile, wrapping your hand around Nico’s bicep and pressing into his side. Timo falls into step with you, walking alongside as you head for the front door.

Walking into Nico’s childhood home is more like walking into a recently sterilizes hospital room than a house that three children grew up in. Everything is pristine, polished, and pearl white (or beige).

Not a single item in the main room indicates that a family lives here at all. Even the portrait of a man with a thick mustache and sharp nose hanging over the staircase isn’t friendly.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking over at Timo. He must read the look in your eyes because he nods just once, clearing his throat when Nico shoots him a look over the top of your head.

“Come on baby,” Nico tells you, guiding you further into the house. “They’re probably in the sitting room.”

The sitting room is like a living room, only colder and not exactly lived in. His family is scattered around the large room, perched on white overstuffed furniture. The first to greet you is a light haired woman, and as soon as she smiles you know this is his mother.

“Nico darling!” She exclaims in an accented voice, one that resembles his but with a tone of superiority. Rising from the sofa, she waves the man next to her up. Even if you were seeing him through fogged glass you’d be able to tell he’s Nico’s father.

They have the same nose, same dark eyes that crinkle by the edges. He’s shorter and less broad than Nico, but their posture and gait are the same. Even the way his dark grey hair falls is similar to Nico’s.

They’re carbon copies of each other.

“Son,” the man greets, buttoning up his suit jacket. “The rumors were true then?”

“Rumors?” Nico asks, and his lack of greeting to his parents makes your stomach drop. Throughout the entirety of your relationship you never imagined Nico’s relationship with his family to be like this.

“Word from the airport was that you brought a guest.” His mother supplies, a polite smile being thrown at you. You return it, hanging to Nico’s bicep like a lifeline. Suddenly you feel pathetic, a random American girl pressed at the hip to the heir of a mob family that stretches three countries and two continents. Hiding in the shadow casted by not only Nico but Timo as well.

Maybe it’s a good thing Sieges and the others didn’t come along.

“Timo insisted on tagging along,” your boyfriend jokes and if you weren’t so stunned and stupid you would have laughed. “This,” he continues, prying his arm from your hold to wrap around the small of you back “isn’t a guest, she’s family.”

Steeling your nerves, you take a steady step forward. “Y/n,” you introduce, holding your hand out to his father. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

He takes your hand, squeezing gently as you meet his gaze. For looking so much like his son, he doesn’t actually resemble him. His eyes are threatening and dark rather than comforting and warm like Nico’s. Even the twitch of his lips feels like it was a muscle spasm.

“Rino,” he tells you. “But sir works better.”

You nod in agreement, now reaching out towards his mother. She’s just as calculated when it comes to introducing herself, her tone haughty and amused as she says “Katja.”

“Wonderful to meet you,” you say, smiling warmly despite the thudding of your heart against your ribcage.

“You as well,” she responds, then shoots her son a look. “I’m afraid we haven’t heard much about you y/n, or anything at all for that matter.”

Ignoring the blow, you settle back into Nico’s side. Timo cuts in, greeting them you think but you can’t really hear him over the voice in your head desperately reminding you that Nico loves you, Nico wants you here.

It’s not until Nico’s nose is pressed to your temple that you snap back into reality. “Breathe y/n,” he whispers, his voice just a tickle in your ear but strong and encouraging. “You’re doing perfect.”

Coming back to yourself, you take his hand in thanks as Katja directs her attention to the few men milling about the room. She speaks to them in Swiss German, an order obviously if them scurrying out of the room is anything to go by.

With her and Rino no longer focused on you for the moment, you helplessly look up at Nico. He’s already watching you, not even a hint of a smile on that handsome face of his. Even so, his gaze is solid and proud, and the subtle tilt of his head tells you enough.

It’s ok.

Your breath shudders, feeling weak under those eyes that know and read you so well. You look away, biting at the inside of your cheek to stop the welling feeling of tears. You have to stop before you let your thoughts run too wild, plagued by images of the sweet man before you living under the scrutinizing gazes of this family.

It’s difficult to even picture how he turned into the Nico you know and love.

The return of the workers distracts you, this time a man and woman following behind them. Another copy of Nico, his brother looks like he could be the elder twin of your boyfriend. The hair, the nose, the jawline, the walk. Must be a Hischier man thing.

And the woman, so obviously his sister, physically resembles Katja but her eyes hold that same twinkle that lights up Nico’s eyes.

“Luca, Nina-“ Katja says warmly. “Your brother is here. With guests.”

Nico sighs, anything he might say remaining unspoken when Nina steps between the two sides.

“Family, Mama.” She corrects, sending you a friendly wink. Like a million bricks have been lifted off your shoulders, you visibly relax at her welcoming.

“Nina,” she tells you “you have no idea how excited I am to meet you.”

She doesn’t hold out a hand, instead stretching out both arms to you. Laughing nervously, you accept her embrace, briefly squeezing her in appreciation and introducing yourself.

“Never thought I’d see Nico with such a beautiful woman,” she teases, an underlying sincerity in her words that warms your cheeks. “He must’ve finally learned how to shower properly.”

Nico mockingly laughs behind you, grumbling in his native tongue to his sister but he’s quick to hug her smaller frame. You almost laugh when he tucks into her shoulder, curling in like he’s supposed to be smaller than her. Like a younger sibling that’s forgotten he’s grown to be the tallest.

Luca greets you, not as warmly as Nina but with more friendliness than their parents. He plants two polite kisses to your cheeks, squeezing your biceps awkwardly before jumping into reuniting with Nico. Nina stands by her mother’s side, nodding at you just once as Katja and Rino tell Nico and Luca something you don’t understand.

Resilience renewed, you turn your head to Timo and he leans down so you can whisper in his ear. “You have to teach me something in German, I’m drowning here.”

He chuckles quietly, leaning into your ear. “I’ll try again but I’m not a miracle worker honey.” You blink at him, jabbing your elbow into him in annoyance. He does it back, jolting you and your gearing up to hit him back when a firm hand is reaching around your back and taking a hold of your elbow.

Easily and swiftly, Nico pulls you into his side. By the way Timo straightens up, you’d imagine he’s been silently scolded by his boss. Smirking, you bat your eyelashes at him and innocently press into Nico’s hold.

“We’ve prepared lunch, if you’re hungry.” Katja offers but she’s already directing everyone to another room. The three of you follow obediently, not having any other option really.

~~~~

Lunch is better than the family reunion that took place in the sitting room. With the distraction of food and a cook and his siblings, Katja and Rino don’t even spare you a second glance or get a chance to grill Nico about anything.

Anytime the Devs or New Jersey comes up, Luca or Nina will steer the conversation away. You’re sure it has something to do with everyone avoiding the topic of Nico’s leave of absence and lack of contact for the past few years, but you can’t be certain because it’s never said.

Nico has a hand on you throughout the whole meal, either lacing his fingers with yours or resting comfortably on your thigh. He makes sure that you eat enough, that your water is ok, that you don’t want more helpings. It’s sweet, the way he always communicates through his actions. Maybe he didn’t prepare you enough for this encounter like he should’ve, but physically he’s been here and done everything to let you know that he has your back.

Besides, after listening to his family carefully navigate around unsavory topics over lunch, you can see why he struggles with words.

Especially when his mother is hell bent on making it uncomfortable. The plates have barely been cleared away when she’s zeroing in on her youngest.

“I suppose it’s time you tell us why you’ve come back,” she says airily. “Or rather why you left?”

Nico’s fingers tighten around yours, eyelids fluttering in annoyance as he suppresses an eye roll. “Mother-“

“Everything was set up Nico,” she cuts in. “The house, the branch, Len-“

“That’s enough!” He cuts off gruffly, silencing Katja. You stroke your thumb over his knuckle, unsure of how to navigate him like this in front of his family. It’s different at home where you have a place, where it’s your job to step in and protect the boys from his angry bouts. But this is different, uncharted. You don’t have a spot in the lives of his family let alone a place to interject. Hell, you don’t even know the context of why Nico left either.

“Watch the tone Nico,” Rino says casually, “that’s your mother.”

Sighing, Nico shakes his head. “I’m here for the week, take it or leave it. And I didn’t come to answer questions you already have the answer for.”

You watch him look around the large table, meeting everyone gaze with a firmness he only gets on jobs and deals. When he receives a simple hum from his mother, he turns to you.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says quietly, rising from his seat. You follow his lead, pushing your chair back in and sharing a nervous look with Timo.

Nico addresses his parents. “I’m gonna show y/n around the grounds.” Then he’s nudging you towards the hall, large hand on your back as you go.

“Put on a coat Nico!” His mother calls after you and he waves over his head in acknowledgment. You’re silent all the way back to the front door, putty in Nico’s hands as he zips you into your winter coat and slips his beanie over your head.

Returning the favor, the zip his own coat for him, adjusting the collar and hood so his ears and neck stay warm.

Nico doesn’t return to being your Nico until the side door of the house is closing behind you. Immediately he’s attaching himself to you, hunching down to wrap his arms around your waist and tuck his face into your neck. Rising to your toes, you bundle your arms around him as best you can with all the thick winter layers between you.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in the cold air and just hold him for a moment. You don’t let go until he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, straightening out his posture and looking at you with those moony eyes of his.

“Show me the grounds,” you mock in a posh voice giggling when he rolls his eyes and offers his elbow to you. Taking ahold of him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and let him guide you down the shoveled paths.

The grounds stretch on forever, through untouched wooded land and open plains of snow. Nico shows you a tennis court, a basketball court, the indoor hockey setup him and Luca used religiously as children. You trudge through the snow with him, winter air nipping at your nose and dry lips aching as your awe of the place kept growing and growing. Every ten steps was something new, some fond memory Nico’s dug up of his childhood.

“I almost broke my ankle trying to do cartwheels,” Nico laughs, gaze sweeping over the open area in which Nina apparently tried to teach Nico gymnastics. “She hadn’t even done gymnastics herself, but I wanted her to think I was cool so I did it.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “You can’t do a cartwheel?” You ask incredulously. Nico scoffs, shaking his head like it should be obvious. Releasing his arm, you strut to the open space in front of him and throw your arms up.

“Watch and learn Nico baby.” You tease, winking before executing a perfect cartwheel. The snow is cold on your hands, bites at your fingers but you do a couple more anyway just to show off.

Nico exclaims in surprise, staring at you with his jaw dropped and dimples in his cheeks. “Alright, just rub it in my face!” He complains and you laugh, giving him a bow. Leaning down he scoops up some snow, quickly packing it together. You have just enough time to curl into yourself before he’s throwing it at your torso.

Squealing, you dig your numb hands into the snow to throw one back. Dodging and ducking through laughter, you and Nico pelt each other with snow until your hands are so frozen you think they might fall off.

In surrender, you leap at him and throw your arms around his neck. The shock of your bitter cold fingers on his bare skin makes him jump and he goes crashing to the ground, taking you with him.

Luckily he breaks your fall, and the snow breaks his so it’s still giggles when you cup his jaw, sitting up to check him for injuries. He’s got snow in his hair and eyelashes, his cheeks and nose glowing red as he bites at his bottom lip to try and contain his smile.

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, the words mostly spoken to yourself but in the large, silent estate they carry. Nico’s cheeks redden even more, eyes glimmering with love. Then, thinking of the cold man from whom Nico got his looks, you quickly add “inside and out.”

His face falls with realization, a look of sympathy flashing through his eyes. Not that he should be sympathetic about anything, these people didn’t raise you. “I should’ve warned you,” he says “I just didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t love them because I do, they’re just different.”

The snow has begun soaking into your pants, stinging your skin and you imagine Nico’s butt must be just as cold. Yet he makes no move to get up, just stares up at you from the ground with those all-telling eyes of his.

“You warned me,” you say “maybe not intentionally but you did.” From wasting away the morning with you to the way he always had a protective hand on you today, Nico warned you the best way he knows how. With protective actions.

Brushing his hair off his forehead, you ask “wanna talk about it?” Nico sighs, cheeks puffing up as he does so and the cloud of his breath dances in between you. He agrees though, nodding for you to get up so you climb off his lap and take his hand to help him up.

Nico takes both of your hands in his, squeezing them before drawing the up to his lips. Eyebrows pinched together in concentration, he breathes hot hair in an attempt to warm them up for you. After a moment he squeezes them again, frowning when they’re still too cold for his liking.

Giggling, you pull your hands back and hug his arm. “I’m ok, let’s just go back and we can talk somewhere warm.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Nico agrees. Oblivious to the figure looming on the balcony that overlooks the grounds, he leads you back towards the house, feet crunching in the snow.

~~~~

Clothes sopping wet and cold, you shuffle into Nico’s old bedroom and immediately begin shedding your winter layers. Unsure of everyone else’s whereabouts in the house, Nico closes the door and locks it before he too strips out of his clothes.

In just his boxers he disappears into the closet and you take the opportunity to look around his room. A large bed sits in the middle of the room, a fluffy blue quilt that matches the accent wall covering it. An old ratty teddy bear sits on the bed, looking out the large window across the room. The view is beautiful, snow covered mountains and white topped trees. There’s a desk in the corner, the top of it empty but the shelves have a few books and childhood awards scattered on them.

You tiptoe over, notice most of the awards have a soccer or hockey player on them. There’s one of a boy snowboarding and one engraved with a book, and though you can’t read them inscription, the year on them tells you that Nico was under 16 when he won all these.

A photo you’ve seen on his phone is hung up next to the desk, Luca and Nina holding a baby Nico on a beach somewhere, all chubby cheeks and blonde hair.

A poster of a Swiss tennis player hangs next to the bed, a few more photos scattered around the room. You don’t get the chance to examine them because Nico strolls back into the room with a ball of clothes in his hands.

“Not sure when these were last washed but it should be fine,” he shrugs, dropping the mess of items to the bed. He digs out a pair of boxers, some dark sweats, and a long sleeve for you. You happily accept the dry clothes, stripping out of your damp underwear and bra.

Nico’s Calvin’s are a little tight when you shimmy them up you hips but not uncomfortable. You pull the sweats on, rolling the waistband so they don’t hang over your feet. It’s not until you’re tugging the shirt over your head that you notice Nico is standing butt naked across from you, boxers in hand as he shamelessly watches you change.

Knowing where this going, you quickly pull the shirt on, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Put that thing away and start talking Hischier.”

He chuckles, beginning to get dressed. You sit on the bed, reaching over for the teddy and pulling it into your lap. “What do you want to know?”

“I know how you ended up in Jersey,” you say, fingers rubbing at the soft fabric of the bears ear. “Inheritance from your grandfather and wanting to get away from here. But I always thought it was because you’re the youngest, ya know? You like to be in charge and you can’t do that with Luca and Nina being in line for everything,”

Nico lets you talk, pulling on his teeshirt and settling into the bed next to you.

“But your parents said everything was lined up. What did they mean?”

Nico sighs, eyes dropping to his lap and he fiddles with the tie on his sweats. You turn to look at him, walking the teddy bear across the mattress and plopping it in his lap. He doesn’t look at you but a dimple sinks into his cheek and he takes the bear from you.

“My parents were trying to branch out, stretch the business like they did sending Nina to France. They had this whole mock up of me using my inheritance to move to Germany and head everything there.

“But they wanted to send someone with me. This girl whose father does business with mine. We had a thing kind of when we’re younger, not dating but like when I wanted to be with someone she was there. So they added a wedding to the plan and invited her to join the family.”

There’s no reason to be jealous of this girl, whoever she is. You know that, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling a little nauseous thinking of his family picking out a wife for him.

“What did you say?” You murmur, slipping your fingers under his shirt and stroking the warm skin of his stomach. Nico picks at a thread on the bear, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing, to them. I took the money and some buddies and left. Told Nina I was starting my own family in Jersey, that I didn’t want to be married or in Germany.

“That’s how I got Timo, Sieges, and Bratter to join me. We’d all been friends for a while and they hated the girl. My parents didn’t know, but she’d been after Luca the whole time she was with me. He was too focused on taking over here in Switzerland though. That’s why she wanted him, she wanted to be the queen or whatever of Switzerland. “

“Why’d she agree to marry you then?”

Nico looks up now, shrugging. You inch closer to him, stomach feeling sick and he must know you don’t particularly like to hear this story because he nudges you into his lap. Straddling his thighs, you relax forward into his chest and let him wrap his arm around you.

“Because one of us was better than neither I guess. I had a feeling she assumed she could marry me and then convince me to push Luca out or something. I don’t know but I didn’t say a word to her either, I just left.”

You nod, the joke Timo made in the car earlier finally adding up. Nico was the prince lined up to be married and grow the business, to make his family stronger. Instead he took his power and his means elsewhere. He built his own kingdom.

“I think you’re so smart Nico,” you mumble, “not many 18 year old boys would be able to do what you did.”

Nico tucks the bear into your chest and you hug it. “I had help,” he says “but it was the best decision I ever made. I got you from it.”

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, interrupting you two. You feel him reach over for it, holding you tighter as he leans over.

“Nina invited us to go out tonight for drinks,” he says. “She wants to have fun without my parents around.”

“Is Timo invited?”

“Yes, Timo is invited.” Nico laughs, stroking your hair.

“Ok. I have to go home for new clothes though.”

Nico hums his agreement, still stroking your hair. You cuddle into him, hugging the teddy bear tighter as you sort through everything he told you. It’s impossible for you to see how some girl had Nico right in front of her, was lined up to spend the rest of her life with him and instead made him feel unwanted.

How could anyone not pick him? How was she not begging on her knees to run away to Jersey with him?

“Nico?”

“Yes baby?”

“I want you,” you whisper. “I always have and I always will. I’d do anything for you.”

You think of everything you’ve given up for Nico, the life you’d left behind for him and it doesn’t even phase you. Because he’s worth it, always worth it.

“Trust me, I know my love,” he assures but you can hear the relief in his tone. Then he’s giggling boyishly, digging his nose into the top of your head. “I knew as soon as met you that there was no getting rid of you.”

Blushing, you close your eyes and enjoy his embrace, enjoying a moment with just him.

~~~~

Luca owns the bar that Nina had invited you too. Technically the business owns it, but it was Luca’s investment plan that acquired it and it’s his staff that runs it.

You find that out as Nico leads you by the hip to the sectioned off tables in the back. Luca and a few other guys mill about the table, some you recognize from seeing around the house today. Nina is there too, her long hair pulled back into a slick pony and she’s sipping from a fruity cocktail with a blonde girl.

“You made it!” Luca greets upon seeing his brother, his demeanor much more welcoming and laidback than earlier. You let go of Nico’s hand so he can hug Luca again, his eyes crinkling as he laughs.

Timo bro-hugs Luca before disappearing back into the common area, most likely heading to the bar. You’re reaching for Nico’s hand again when Luca crouches down to meet your gaze, glossy eyes and smile shining at you.

He looks so much like Nico.

“There she is!” He shouts, charging you with open arms. You laugh in shock when he scoops you up in a hug, drink sloshing against your back as he sways back and forth.

“Hi Luca,” you giggle, awkwardly rubbing your hand up and down his back. “Nice to see you again.”

He drops you to your feet, gripping your elbow when you stumble. Not that it’s needed; Nico’s hand found your lower back as soon as your toes touched the polished floors.

“You know, I never understood why Nico loved Jersey so much,” he shouts over the music and chatter “but I get it now. I like you a lot even if my parents don’t.”

You’re not shocked to hear that but you dramatically gasp anyway. “Your parents don’t like me?!” You cry, holding a hand over your heart. “What’ll we ever do?”

Luca laughs at you, taking a swig of his beer before shaking his head fondly. “Fuck ‘em,” he says casually “Nico’s better off with you anyway.”

Your cheeks heat up at his words, flattered by the praise. You were hesitant about Luca earlier, not knowing if he liked you or not. He was harder to read than Nico and Nina but you assume that’s the oldest sibling in him.

Without another word he’s walking away, stumbling towards the pool tables with some friends. Nico leans in over your shoulder, nose brushing your temple.

“He’s a friendly drunk,” he explains “but he really does like you.”

You turn towards him. “He’s funny,” you say “I like him too.”

Pressing the lightest kiss to your cheekbone, Nico nods towards the bar. “Something with vodka?” He asks and you peek around him at Nina.

“I want what Nina is drinking.”

Amused, he nods and takes you by the hand. He approaches the booth, leaning over towards his sister to mumble something in her ear. You don’t hear what she says back but Nico straightens out, stepping out of the way and nudging you to sit down. Happily, you slide into the seat next to Nina and accept her giddy hug.

Nico sweeps your hair over your shoulder, squeezing your neck briefly before going to get your drink.

“Oh this is Maja,” Nina introduces you to her friend. You reach over the table to shake her hand and introduce yourself.

“I’m with Luca,” Maja tells you, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. “Sorry I missed lunch today, I tend to skip those gatherings as often as I can.”

“I totally understand!” You laugh,” I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”

Nina gasps, gripping your arms as she beams at you. “You’re gonna come back?!”

Giggling, you nod. “Well yeah, I know Nico misses you and Luca and it hasn’t been bad. Besides, it’s beautiful here!”

“You have to visit in the summer!” Maja tells you, “we can make fondue and float the river.”

Nina agrees telling you all about how that was Nico’s favorite thing to do when he was younger. Then she’s inviting you to France, telling you all about the beautiful French men and how much you’d love them.

You let her chatter on, laughing at her antics. French men aren’t exactly your forte, especially not when you’re dating a Swiss man but you can remind her about that later.

“Nina,” Nico interrupts, placing your drink in front of you. “are you trying to set my prinzessin up with a Frenchie?”

Sliding in next to you, he wraps his arm around your stomach and draws you back into his chest. His sister gapes at him, so shocked by his words she’s gone speechless and you shyly sip your drink.

“Prinzessin, Nico!” She gasps, holding her heart. Nina tells him something in Swiss German, reaching around you to excitedly shove her brother.

His response is also lost on you but you can tell by Nina’s moony eyes and how he hunches into you that it was something loving and sweet. “Soon, soon.” Nico finally says, taking a drink of his beer and setting it next to yours.

“Hey don’t talk about me when I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Laughing, Nico presses a kiss to your temple. “Sorry baby,” he says, squeezing your shoulders. You turn to face him, sliding your leg over his lap.

“You didn’t tell me about Maja,” you murmur, fiddling with the straw in your drink. Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing in confusion as he looks around the bar.

“Who?”

“Nico oh my god,” you gasp “Luca’s girlfriend-wife-whatever?”

Some clarity washes over his face and he giggles, glancing across the booth to Maja. Lowering his lips to your ear, “I thought her name was Maria,” he whispers and you laugh.

“I don’t know, Luca got with her after I left and he’s not chatty on the phone. For all I know he’s already married her.”

You look over your shoulder at her hand. “No ring,” you tell him “and I don’t think he’d get married without telling you.”

Nico shrugs, taking a swig of his beer before holding it out to you. You slide him your drink, trying the tangy beer he’s been nursing. It’s not bad but beer isn’t your favorite so you quickly hand it back.

“That’s sweet,” Nico says, smacking his lips and returning it to you. “Too sweet, Jesus Christ.” You laugh, snacking an arm around his shoulders and digging your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, guiding him closer to you. Smirking, those dark eyes of his dance across your face before settling on your lips. He does the rest of the work for you, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss.

“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back and swiping his tongue across his lips. “Better.”

His voice has that gruffness to it, heavy and thick, and not just because his accent is stronger now that he’s home. It makes your neck and ears feel hot, stomach flipping.

“No PDA in my bar Nico!” Luca’s shouting makes you jump, almost knocking Nico’s beer across the table and him and Timo snicker as they sit across from you.

“Bar PDA is his favorite,” Timo laughs, winking at you. “How do you think they ended up together?”

You can’t even argue with him. Nico is notorious for being handsy, especially when he’s out and drinking.

“Really?” Luca hums, slinging an arm around Maja. “It used be like pulling teeth just to get him to look at girl around here.”

And well, that’s news to you. Although you suppose if he planned on leaving Switzerland anyway and he had that girl to fool around with whenever he wanted, what’s the point? You’re well aware that he was never looking for love.

Nico quickly changes the topic, asking Timo about his day with his family tomorrow and you join Nina and Maja as they sift through songs on the online jukebox to play.

The queue stacks up, your drink starts to run out, and Nico leaves with Timo and his brother to go play pool. Nina leaves the phone with Maja, taking you by the hand to the bar where she orders more drinks and drops them on Nico’s tab. Not that it matters, you doubt he pays for drinks here anyway.

“I’m gonna head to the restroom,” you tell her, and she takes your drink back to the closed off section. The bathrooms are in the opposite back corner, a group of girls huddled in front of the door so you line up behind them.

Your phone buzzes in hand, Nico’s contact lighting up the screen and you almost laugh. Of course he noticed you were missing.

I’ve lost my pretty girl

Biting your lip, you text back bathroom break ♥️

The typing dots pop up and you’re anxiously awaiting his response when the conversation around you catches your attention. Specifically the mention of Nico’s name.

“He’s still as hot as ever,” a dark haired girl in front of you comments, and you keep your eyes on your phone so they don’t think you’re eavesdropping.

“Do you think she’s actually with him or is that just another fuck you to his parents?”

Nico’s text comes through, but you can’t focus enough to read it. “I mean, she doesn’t look his type so who knows. Didn’t he say he wasn’t into commitment Lena?”

Out of the corner of your eye, a tall and leggy brunette twirls her hair around her finger and shrugs. “If he were into commitment don’t you think he’d be with me right now? It’s definitely just to piss off his parents, I mean did you see the size of her? Typical American girl.”

Suddenly you feel sick, like everything you’ve ever eaten is choking up in your throat and about to spew all over the mean girls in front of you.

“I heard he put her in the family,” a quieter voice says. “Timo was talking about it at the bar with Luca. He’s calling her his princess.”

The leader-Lena, scoffs. “Princess? She hasn’t even got a pendent let alone a ring.”

Maybe this why Nico doesn’t talk about his exes. They’re mean and petty little girls, girls that haven’t moved on in over 5 years. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear though.

“Probably another one of his deals. He fucks her, she pretends to be serious with him for a family trip.”

“Why would he decide to come back now with a fake girlfriend?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lena laughs, loud and proud. “He must have heard that I’m back at the estate.”

You decide that’s enough, pocketing your phone and clearing your throat. All the girls jump at the noise, turning to face you and you smile.

“Are you in line for the bathroom or just gossiping?” You ask politely, smirking as the color drains from all their faces. All except Lena, who looks you up and down before sheepishly nodding for you to go ahead.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You say, stopping in the doorway to look at her. “You’d think Luca would have bathrooms strictly for family but I guess not.”

Embarrassed, they all laugh awkwardly and you close the door behind you. What the fuck?

~~~~

By the time you’ve returned to the booth, you’ve shaken off the word of those girls. You trust Nico, you know Nico loves you, and high school bullies that pick on girls weight and nationality aren’t going to change that.

Nico is still playing pool, but he catches your eye and winks as you settle in next to Nina. Smirking, you blow him a kiss before Nina is handing you music rights. Sipping on your drink, you pull up your playlist on your phone and find the Swiss songs Nico likes. Adding his favorite to the queue you hand the phone back.

“How do you know that song?” Maja asks you, chewing on the end of her straw. You take another sip of yours.

“Nico plays it every time we’re in the car.” You say, catching the eye of Lena over Maja’s shoulder. She simply raises an eyebrow you, throwing back whatever shot is in hand and purses her lips.

“Hey, do you guys know her?” You suddenly ask, nodding towards the bar where Lena is now perched over the top to steal cherries from behind the counter.

“Oh,” Nina mumbles, laughing awkwardly. “Rino does business with her father and uh…”

“She was into Nico?” You supply, glancing over at your boyfriend. Maja bites her lip, hesitantly nodding.

“She was supposed to marry him.” Nina tells you, lowering her gaze to the table. Suddenly it all clicks; the comments about sleeping with him, about him not committing, about using me.

The song changes, the beat immediately catching the attention of Nico who stands up taller and looks over at you. You smile, wiggling your fingers at him as Nina laughs.

“I never thought Nico could be so romantic.” Maja teases you, not that you get it. The rap song is lost on you, any translation you’ve tried to look up being even more confusing. So you just enjoy the beat of it usually.

“What?”

Nina laughs, finally realizing that you can’t understand Swiss German. “It’s a love song,” she tells you, and then she’s pulling up the lyrics and translating them for you.

It’s a lot of nonsense, cute tidbits about how the artist loves the habits and traits of his lover. But the chorus is sweet, a declaration of him finding love after being told he would always be on his own.

Unable to help yourself, you swallow down the rest of your drink and scramble out of the booth. Nico is watching you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as you approach him. He’s leaning on the pool stick but as soon as you get close he’s moving it aside.

You crash into him, bury your nose in his hoodie and holding his waist tightly. “What’s her deal?” Luca slurs, but he goes ignored. Nico squeezes you just once, swaying side to side in time with the song.

Closing your eyes, you think of him singing along in the car, humming it in the shower while he washes your hair for you, blasting it through the house when you two clean together.

“Who translated it for you?” He finally murmurs, his smile present in his tone.

“Your sister,” you say, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him. He’s all white teeth and dimples when you meet his gaze, eyes glimmering with pride. “Her and Maja think you’re very romantic.”

Nico shrugs but doesn’t argue. The pool balls clink behind you and then Timo is hollering. “Game over Luca, pay up.”

Luca mutters something in Swiss, heading to the bar with his head low. You let go of Nico, giving Timo a chance to high five you both.

“Let me teach you to play,” Nico tells you, handing you the pool stick. You follow him to the end of the table, letting him show you how to rack up the balls. Timo chalks up your stick for you, tells you about the cue ball.

And you go about your night, teaming up with Nico to play Timo. He stands behind you for every shot, large hands over yours on the pool stick and his warm chest tight against your back.

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you that you don’t even notice the staring eyes of Lena and her friends.

And you don’t bring her up to Nico, though you probably should’ve.

~~~~

#nico hischier #mob boss Nico Hischier #nico hischer x reader #mob boss au #Him and I #nhl #new jersey devils #nj devils #fluff

[buckets-and-trees]

DEVOUR: a Bucky x Reader short series

a short series centered around a mostly-dark mob boss Bucky Barnes and a female!Chef!Reader at a high end restaurant

True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You’ve risen through the ranks, and when your mentor retires, you’re rightly given the mantle of executive chef at Devour. On your night of ascension, the dining room is packed, and among the guests is notorious mob boss Bucky Barnes - someone equally as relentless in getting what he wants.

Content Warnings (detailed in the beginning of each part): imbalanced power dynamics, bribery, workplace manipulation, NON/DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit language, risk of being caught, food play, knife play, nipple/breast play, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, edging, unprotected vaginal intercourse, cream pie

SERIES:

salt

fat

acid

heat - coming soon

EXTRAS:

→ Series Playlist

Drabbles: mint (a week or two after heat) custard (first winter holidays together) yeast (tbd point after the series)

#bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #mob boss!bucky barnes #mob boss!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #mob boss au #devour: salt fat acid heat #female reader #devour au

[kaunis-sielu]

Dangerous Places: 9

His hands are on the couch on either side of your legs but he’s not touching you.

“You’re bleeding!” You snatch up his hand to examine it before you know what you’ve done.

“I’m alright Bunny.”

“Glass? Did you punch through some glass?”

“Just a little.”

“We need to clean it.” You tell him and he stands pulling you up with him. You go to let go of his hand but he keeps holding yours, he gives you a little half smile.

“You should hold on. Wouldn’t wanna get lost on my way to first aid.” You roll your eyes at him but drag him along behind you anyways. “You’re moving better, are your feet feeling better?”

“Yea,” you tell him, “is there any glass in your cut?”

“Nah Bunny.”

“Wash it out please.” You tell him before pulling the first aid kit out from under the sink. When he’d been here Hulk had restocked it so you know that everything should be good to go. Steve turns on the water as you get out the gauze wrap and a pair of gloves.

You tend to his cut knuckles gently, making sure you wrap them tight enough to stop the bleeding but not so tight that it’ll cut off circulation.

“You’re good at this Bunny.”

“He got into a lot of fights on his way to the top. I was expected to care for him in every way he demanded.” You say softly focusing on the job you’re doing.

“I can do this.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind, it’s kind of nice feeling useful.”

“What have you been doing all day?”

“Reading. Sleeping. Cooking a little. When the girls are here we talk.” You’ve talked about him more than you’d like to admit. He’s an extremely powerful mob boss but the girls really didn’t have much bad to say about him. His legit businesses give back to the community as much as they can, he takes care of his employees and is known for his weirdly strong sense of justice.

“If I could get you some things to do what would you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You admit, you really don’t know what you’d want to do. “I miss music.”

“Music?”

“Yea, I know that I can’t have my phone but I like music more than tv for background noise. I hate commercials though.”

“So radio is out,” he says, “I’ll come up with something.”

“Oh, thank you.” You tell him securing the gauze around his hand. “Would you like to eat?”

“You don’t have to serve me Bunny.”

“I’m going to eat so if you want to I can make two plates.” You suggest and he hums softly,

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m sure.” He studies your face for a moment then gives you a little nod. You move away from him and open the fridge then dig out the leftover lasagna. As you prep for dinner he leans against the couch and texts someone on his phone. You test your glucose then take some insulin while the lasagna reheats.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Get your drink?”

“Okay.” He takes out a beer from the fridge, “What do you want?”

“I just do water.”

“I’ll get it.” He says as you drop your needles in the hard plastic bottle that you’ve been using as a sharps container.

You eat in silence, it’s not exactly uncomfortable but it’s also not comfortable either.

“You made this?”

“Yes.”

“It’s delicious.”

“Thank you.”

“You like cooking right?”

“I do.”

“You need anything for something you wanna make tell the girls, they’ll get you whatever you need. They’ve been kind right?”

“Absolutely.” You’re a little surprised by this question, why wouldn’t the girls be nice to you?

“I know Carol can be a bit harsh sometimes.”

“She’s just honest, which is kind of nice.” You tell him and Steve looks surprised. “What?”

“You seem to read people well. Quickly too.”

“You kind of have to in this life don’t you?”

“I suppose. What have you figured out about me?” He asks, his voice is even and calm but you won’t be telling him anything. If you offend him he could get angry and you’ve seen what his fist can do to glass, you don’t need to see what it could do to you.

“I don’t know.” You say softly after a bite of lasagna. This seems to be the safest thing to say and he studies you.

“You’re afraid you’re going to anger me. You won’t.” It seems he’s good at reading people too, “I know you said actions, and my actions today probably show you that I have a temper, which I do, but the anger wasn’t directed toward you. Not unless you betray me and I don’t think that’s going to happen. Do you?”

“No.” In all honesty that depends on what his definition of betrayal is. The second he lets you go you’re fucking gone, which Brock absolutely would have seen as betrayal, as for Steve, you don’t know.

“Alright then we won’t have any problems.” He goes back to eating like it’s nothing but you have to force yourself to eat, he hasn’t given you reason to really trust him yet. The girls, you’re getting more comfortable with them but you’ve also got your guard up. You’ve been fooled before, you won’t let that happen again. When you’re done eating Steve picks up your plate and brings it to the sink to wash and put into the dishwasher.

This starts a pattern, he shows up everyday for dinner. He never does any work when he’s with you and it’s so easy to forget what he is. He’s charming and kind and brings you a record player with three boxes worth of vinyls.

It’s not until one night when you’re sleeping and he comes in, gently waking you, with a glass in his hand that you realize his attention to detail.

“What’re you doing?” You murmur confused, it’s the middle of the night and he’s in pajama pants and a zip up sweatshirt.

“You’re double arrow down and at 85, you need some sugar.” He tells you handing you the glass, “it’s apple juice.”

“Oh.” You take a sip and stare at him in the darkness. “How did you know?”

“Bruce hooked me up to your system, it alerts me if you’re too low or too high.” You won’t tell him but you’re impressed.

“What time is it?”

“2:30.” He came all the way over here at 2:30 in the morning to give you juice? “Drink up Bunny.” He coaxes so you take another sip. Sometimes drinking the juice too fast makes you feel sick but you don’t want to crash either.

Once you finish the juice Steve takes the glass back.

“Thank you.” You say softly when he’s at the door. He nods and closes the door softly behind him.

When you told him actions would prove to you that he wasn’t like Brock. This is exactly what you meant when you said that, you don’t know how far he lived from here but the fact that he’s got an alarm set up to make sure you stay healthy. You get up and make your way out into the main part of the house and are surprised to see Steve in the living room.

“Everything okay?”

“Yea, I’m just going to test with my test strips. Sometimes the sensor is a little slow.”

“Okay.” He says standing and following you into the kitchen. You test and see that you’re going down still, but it takes about fifteen minutes to see any change.

“Do you need more sugar?” He asks as you take everything apart.

“Not yet. It won’t show for at least fifteen minutes.”

“Wanna sit up with me?” He offers,

“Um. Okay.” So you join him in the living room, “could, could you get me something to sew?” When he looks up at you in surprise.

“Sorry Bunny. What was that?”

“I like to cross stitch, could you get me a project to do?”

“Do you want to look online?” He’s going to trust you to use the internet?

“You’d let me?”

“Yea.”

“Thank you.” You pause, you have another question for him but you don’t want to annoy him.

“What else Bunny?”

“Hmm?”

“I can see there’s another question in there. What is it?”

“How long will I have to stay here?”

“A bit longer.” You feel defeated, it might not be so bad if you had a time frame rather than just question marks. “I’m sorry. We’ve got to be careful about this. If they know I’m coming it’ll be a war rather than the execution I want.” He says it so casually, “I’ll try and have a better answer for you soon okay?”

“Okay.” You agree before standing.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t have my sensor to check my sugar.”

“I can.” He picks up his phone from the arm of the chair and looks at your number. “Oh, good 90 and steady.” You stand and make your way back toward the bedroom.

“Good night.”

“Night Bunny. You need anything and I’ll be here. Don’t wanna leave you alone.”

“Oh, okay.” You tell him before closing the bedroom door and going back to bed.

Tag list:

@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @vicmc624 @abschaffer2 @patzammit @inkedaztec @sophham

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve #mob boss au #mob boss!steve rogers #mobster au #mob boss!steve rogers x reader #Steve rogers x reader au #dangerous story

[ofstarsandvibranium]

To Have & To Hold: Part 1

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you're always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don't necessarily hate Marc, but you don't get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

A/N: another series because idk. felt like it.

"-I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." You turn to your now husband and give him a smile. He pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours. There's hollers and whistles all around you. On the outside, you appear to be a couple so in love. On the inside, your heart is dropping to your stomach.

_____________________

6 Months Earlier

"I-I thought you said you were getting better," you look at your father in disbelief. He had just delivered some heart breaking news: he was dying.

For the past few years, he's been receiving treatment and he seemed to be getting better. Turns out, within the last year, he stopped treatment because he was getting tired.

"I was, but sunshine, I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm tired and I'm getting old. I just want to enjoy the last bit of life I have left."

Anger started building up within you. You clenched your jaw and tightened your fists, "But if you end your treatments, you don't get to enjoy life much after! Dad, please just-"

He holds up a hand and you stop talking, "I've already made up my mind, Sunny. And if you're concerned with your financial state-"

"You seriously think I'm concerned with that?" you can't help but be hurt by your father's insinuation.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I know you've never cared for this life," he gestures around to his office, "But, you should know something."

"What?" you're mentally preparing yourself for even more heartbreaking news.

"You and Marc are to be married."

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops, "Are you kidding me?!"

"He will be taking over as my successor once I'm gone and, to make sure you're well taken care of, you'll be marrying him." Your father states everything as factual, giving no room for refusal or compromise.

"But what if I'm already dating someone?"

"You're not. I know you're not. I still have my eyes on you despite you being an adult."

You scoff, "Un-fucking-believable."

There's a knock at your father's office door and he says, "Come in."

The man of the hour, Marc, enters the room. He sees your fuming expression and can't help but smirk, "I see he's told you."

"Clearly. And you're okay with this?!"

Marc shrugs, "Could be worse. Plus, we don't hate each other so this marriage won't be completely unbearable."

You scoff, "Speak for yourself!" you whip around to your father, "Dad-"

"I'm just looking out for you, sunshine."

"And if I don't go through with this?"

Your father's eyes darken, "You can say good-bye to that charity organization you've been working so hard towards."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't forget who still has the power here, sweetheart."

You look to Marc whom still has a neutral expression. You felt conflicted. You'd thought that in this day and age, you'd be able to make your own choices, be able to find someone who you love and they love you back. But the world you've grown up in isn't normal. Your dad is a well known mob boss and he has power. Marc isn't terrible, but you don't know him well. But the charity organization you've been working so hard towards helped children in the community. If your dad takes that away, they won't have anything.

"Fine," you say through gritted teeth, "I'll go through with this."

Your dad's expression changes to glee, "Wonderful! You have six months to get to know each other better before the wedding."

You look at him in surprise, "You already have the wedding date planned?"

"Yes, but the venue, dress, and all of that stuff will be left to you two, of course."

You roll your eyes, "Gee thanks."

"Congratulations you two. Let's have a drink!" you sit and watch as Marc goes to your father's liquor cabinet and pours the three of you a drink. With raised glasses, your father exclaims, "To the L/N Legacy!" the three of you clink glasses and you down the entire glass. You're going to need a lot more where that came from.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marvel au #mob boss au #mafia au #mob au

[bobfloydsbabe]

illicit affairs | bob floyd x oc | mob boss au

SUMMARY: Robert Floyd runs one of San Diego's most notorious crime syndicates, but his new secretary, Abby Lennox, may just be his downfall.

WARNINGS: mob boss au, bob being horny on main, possessiveness (if you squint). strictly 18+/minors dni

WORD COUNT: ~0.6k

A/N: I haven't been able to get Mob Boss Bob out of my head all day, so here we are with an introduction, a moodboard, and a small blurb. This AU will not be a full-length fic, but a collection of drabbles and blurbs. Don't hesitate to send me questions or headcanons!

MBB MASTERLIST

EDIT: Join the taglist (google form–no personal info required)

“Sir?”

He looks up and finds his secretary standing in the doorway to his office with a tablet in her hands.

“Come in,” he says, waving her inside with one hand while closing the lid of his laptop on the other. “Close the door, please.”

He’s asked none of his past secretaries to close the door before, and Jake’s warning him about getting close rings in his ears yet again. He’d dismissed him then, but as Bob’s eyes rake across Abby’s body while she closes the door and walks to his desk, he’s starting to think he should heed Jake’s warning.

“What can I do for you?”

Her brows draw together before she seems to catch herself and places her expression back in neutral. The corner of his mouth twitches as she sits in one of the black leather chairs on her side of the desk.

“Mitchell called and asked for a meeting. I tried to set one up with Trace, but he refused. He wants to meet with you personally.”

Bob leans back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. “He does, does he?”

Abby nods. “Yes, sir.”

Bob adjusts in his seat, trying to ignore what Abby calling him sir does to him. His trousers feel tight as he meets her dark and intense eyes across the desk.

“Did he tell you what we would discuss at this meeting?”

Abby looks down at her tablet for a second before returning her eyes to him. “No, sir,” she tells him. “How would you like me to proceed?”

Bob weighs the possibilities in his mind. Mitchell is impulsive on the best of days. Reckless on the worst. Bob had been searching for a way out of his dealings with the much older man since he came into his position, and whatever Mitchell had gotten himself into now was surely the excuse he needed.

He leans forward again, resting his forearms on the large oak desk. “Set it up for this afternoon,” he says. “Call Trace and let her know to meet me there.”

“I’ll get right on it,” she says and stands, wobbling slightly. Bob shoots out of his seat, reaching across the desk for her arm to steady her. The feeling of her soft skin under his calloused palm sends a shiver down his spine.

He pulls back and watches Abby walk back to the door. As her hand lands on the knob, Bob opens his mouth before his head can catch up to what he’s saying.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Bob watches as she squares her shoulders and turns back around slowly. There’s a dark hair stuck in her lip gloss that he can’t take his eyes off.

“Sitting on my couch with wine and takeout, probably.”

Bob walks around his desk, stopping right in front of Abby. He towers over her, and from this angle he can see just a hint of cleavage. “I’d like you to go to the fundraiser with me.”

He meant to go alone, but the idea of mingling with senators and other state officials on his own makes him want to scream.

“You do?”

She’s looking anywhere but at him when he raises a hand, places it on her cheek, and lets his thumb drag the hair away from her mouth. “I do,” he says and leans in closer.

Abby’s breath audibly hitches when his lips brush against her ear. “Wear blue,” he whispers, “so they all know you’re with me.”

Likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x oc #robert floyd x oc #mob boss bob #mob boss au #top gun maverick #oc: abby lennox #otp: flennox #fic: mob boss au #flennox au #helenawrites #madebyme #writtenbyme #my writing #i'm so nervous about this

[sassaffrassa]

speaking of mob boss au

@bomberqueen17 has been doing a lot of the heavy lifting on mob boss au re: historical details and lapsed catholicism and also wrote an absolute banger of an opening scene

image inspo

#mob boss au #gun kink #b’s writing #my art #comic #iorveth #vernon roche #long hair!!!! long hair iorveth!! #cw blood #cw violence #cw bruises #yes a lot of my ideas come from visual inspiration #i maked this

[moonfox281]

What Jason would do if Dick turned into a (really really pretty) merman? His goons would panick too?

Buy an eyepatch (if can't just steal from some certain mercenary)

Wear said eyepatch and fire-carry that beautiful merman

Now they can look like the cover of some BL romance novel (porn with plot)

Dick: *dangerous merman whose voice can lure men and women to their demise* Red Hood goons: *jump down the water before Dick can open his mouth*

Jason: Oh, great bootiful merman of the sea, I'm drowning. Quick, come and wrap yourself around me. Dick: You can swim. Jason: I need CPR!!!

6. Trust me, they're all more sad than happy when everything goes back to normal because Dick won't be half-naked 24/7 anymore.

#jaydick #mob wife au #mob boss au