#mafia fic

[suugarbabe]

[Chapter 8]

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: mentions of drinking/drunkeness, mentions of blood, kidnapping, torture, use of torture curses

An: so sorry this took so long, I was sick and mentally exhausted from other things and also debating where to end the chapter and where to start the next one; hope its alright :)

Enzo clutched his arm, rubbing the spot you had just harshly hit with your fist, “Okay, ow! You didn’t have to hit me that hard, Angel. T’was just a joke, yeh?” You rolled your eyes, picking up the box in front of you and setting it on the pallet. “You know she wouldn’t have hit you if you weren’t being such a twat,” Pansy spoke without looking up from her clipboard, marking off which weapons from the artillery stock you and Enzo were packing for the next ‘business meeting’ and what was left.

You shot a sickly sweet smile Enzo’s way, “Yeah, Enz, don’t be such a twat.” Enzo scoffed, “I was not being a twat! I simply asked if I could have your room since you and Riddle obviously sleep together. There’s no point in you each having your own room and I know for a fact he gave you a bigger room than mine.” You reared your fist back as if you were going to hit him again, causing Enzo to flinch slightly. You smirked at this, “You’re the most dangerous of the family but you’re afraid of lil ol’ me?”

Enzo shook his head, “Nuh-uh, I know there’s something else deeply hidden within you that we haven’t seen yet. I’m not pushing my chances. And you’re avoiding the question.” You huffed, placing two large rifles in a long wooden box before turning to face him, hands on your hips, “For your information, if Mattheo and I do sleep in the same room, it’s my room. I’ve never in been in his room. So maybe you should go ask him if you can have his room.” Enzo’s face dropped slightly, “Mmm no, I think I’m good. But answer me this,” the smirk that formed on his face gave way that you were going to hate what he was about to say, “Does Riddle make you call him boss during sex?”

A low groan left Enzo’s throat as he clutched his arm once more, “Shit, Pansy! In the same spot, really?” You high fived Pansy, “Serves you right.” You stuck your tongue out at Enzo, who mirrored your action. Pansy opened her mouth to tell you both to stop acting like such siblings when Draco’s voice rang between your ears, Family meeting, dining room, five minutes. You glanced between the two in front of you, “We all heard that right?” Enzo nodded, “You mean the annoying voice of a ferret ringing in my head?” Pansy slapped Enzo in the arm, in the same place of the two previous punches, “Merlin’s beard, can I not have any fun anymore?”

The three of you apparated back into the foyer of the house, making your way into the dining room to see everyone but Mattheo already sat at the table. You took your place to the left of Mattheo’s chair, still glaring and making faces at Enzo sitting across from you. Theo leaned closer to Pansy on his left, “What’s with those two?” Pansy shook her head, “Please don’t ask.” Theo opened his mouth to respond again only to be cut off by Mattheo walking in to the room, his presence alone enough to silence the table.

All eyes focused on Mattheo sat at the head of the table. “Tonight is an important deal for us. The De Luca family has been making deals with us since the beginning, they’re some of our most trusted muggle allies. Theo and Enzo, you two will load the pallets on the truck while Blaise, Draco and I go and meet them at the discussed location.” The boys all nodded at their assignments, not questioning what they were told. “What about us?” You motioned between yourself and Pansy, essentially halting some of the boys midway as they had begun to stand up. Almost as if he anticipated your questioning, Mattheo had a simple answer for you. “You’re not going.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, “And why the bloody hell not?” Mattheo’s jaw clenched momentarily as others around the table widened their eyes. No one spoke to Mattheo that way, not when it came to business deals. Taking a deep breath to center himself before turning to you, his eyes a dark onyx as he spoke, “You’re not ready.” You narrowed your eyes at him, clearly not satisfied with his answer. Mattheo mirrored you, not stepping down from his decision, “I understand this may be frustrating, but I’m not willing to risk a repeat of the last time. You’re just not ready yet.”

It was your jaw that clenched now, “A repeat of the last time?” Mattheo had his tongue in cheek, clearly trying to keep his composure and his tone authoritative, “Yes, the last time. Lest not forget you nearly getting sexually assaulted and the boys and I having to kill five fucking people, or has that occurrence slipped your pretty little mind, Princess?” You tensed slightly, your eyes squeezing shut at the memory. Forcing yourself to meet his gaze you tried to match his demeanor, “No, Mattheo, it has not.” He gave you a saccharine smile that you took as anything but sweet. Leaning back in your chair you crossed your arms, pouting in defeat.

Mattheo felt a strange pang in his chest, like a tight ache that was telling him to change his mind, but he had to stand his ground, “You and Pansy have the night off. Enjoy it. It won’t happen much in the future.” He avoided your gaze, looking everywhere but your eyes because he knew once he did he would give in. Instead he kept his stare the the black mahogany beneath his tapping fingertips, “I’m doing you a favor. You have the night off.” You leaned forward on your elbows, making sure to keep your tone sweet and even, “Thank you, boss, I truly appreciate it.” The use of his title stung, but he did not have the time to dwell on his feelings.

Giving the boys all a curt nod, the group stood. Each man disappearing with a chorus of crack-like pops. When the last one was out of site you turned to Pansy, letting out a frustrated, “Can you fucking believe that?” At the same time she blew out a laughing, “You are so fucking lucky, Birdie.” You blinked at her in confusion, “Lucky? How am I lucky? I essentially just got sat from a business deal because other men can’t handle I have fucking tits.” Pansy just smirked, shaking her head, “The sooner you acknowledge your feelings for each other the better all of our lives will be. I mean him too by the way. That little lovers quarrel you guys had at the table had us all at the edge of our seats. You should’ve heard the things Theo was saying.”

You groaned, “Spare me.” Pansy couldn’t help but laugh, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “C’mon. Let’s go shopping or something, get your mind off it. We have the night off, remember?” You smiled then. A slow, almost sinister smile that had Pansy shaking her head. You stood up, walking out from the dinning room. Pansy was quick on your heels as you hustled up the stairs, “No. Birdie, whatever it is you’re thinking the answer is no.” You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop the wheels in your mind from turning, “He told us we had the night off, Pans. Then let’s do what any hot, single women would do…let’s go out.” You walked into your room, making a b-line for your closet, “Help me pick out an outfit.”

You turned to see her still standing in the doorway, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. “Oh come on,” you walked back towards her, grasping her wrist and dragging her inside fully. “Help me pick one out and I’ll pick one out for you. You know they never come back from these business deals until the next day, hell, sometimes the next evening depending on how it goes. We’ll go out for a few hours, have some fun, and then we’ll be back here asleep in bed before they even knew we were gone.” Pansy chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Just one club?” You took your index finger, lifting it up to the center of your chest and making a small ‘x’ motion, “Cross my heart.”

Pansy’s shoulders relaxed then, her smiled growing two fold, “Okay…then I say wear,” she flicked through your options, giving a sad pout after a moment, “Wear something of mine, because for Salazar’s sake, Birdie, we need to take you shopping.” You groaned out a slight giggle, “I know…maybe if I play my cards right I can convince Mattheo to buy me some.” You were mostly joking, but the look Pansy gave you told you it would be worth a try in the future. After a few outfit changes, the two of you were turning in the mirror and examining your final choices. After much debate, you finally landed on a blood red corset top with a black leather skirt while pansy opted for a black body-con minidress.

You let out a low whistle as you took in your reflection, “Salazar’s fucking sake we look good.” Pansy nodded, “If we don’t get free drinks tonight, there’s something wrong with the male society.” You huffed a laugh in agreement. After a few finishing touches to your hair and makeup, the two of you apparated down the street from the dance club. As the two of you made your way down the pavement, you were acutely aware of how different you felt compared to a few months ago. “You know, Pans, I haven’t been out like this in a long time,” you hooked your elbow with hers as you guys approached the line to get in. Pansy leaned her head on your shoulder briefly, “We’re gonna have a good time tonight, Birdie. You deserve it. Just relax and let loose. Who knows when we’ll be able to do this again.” You giggled, smiling sweetly at the bouncer as he nodded and let the both of you in without hesitation.

As you entered the club the sound of bass was nearly overwhelming. You could only mildly hear the melody to whatever song was playing, let alone your own thoughts. Pansy hooked her fingers with yours as she led a path towards the bar. You could feel men’s eyes on the pair of you the whole way up. While at your own club Pansy was stoic and focused on her job, this seemed to be an environment where she thrived. Pansy gave a particular pair of tall, handsome men a wink as she squished the two of you between another pair of guys. “Oh, excuse me handsome, we were just trying to get a few drinks, maybe a shot or two,” Pansy’s tone was coated in honey as she batted her eyelashes at the broad blonde next to her.

Her seduction trick was flawless, the blonde man buying both shots and both cocktails. She thanked him and gave a pat to his cheek before dragging you to the dance floor. This became a repeated pattern for the night: bar, batted eyelashes, dance floor. You had to give it to her, the routine worked. “Go on, Birdie you try. How about…” her eyes dragged over the sea of bodies near the bar, “him.” Her manicured finger pointed at a taller man near the center of the bar. He was handsome sure, tanned skin and dark curls on the top of his head, “Why him?” Pansy gave you an incredulous look, “Because he looks like Mattheo.” You were thankful for the amount of alcohol in your system to help hide the burning blush that flooded your cheeks, “Okay, fine.”

You made your way to the bar, Pansy close behind. As you got closer you tried a different approach than Pansy’s earlier tactic. Coming up to the man you stood directly behind him. You motioned for Pansy to stand next to you, her giving you a questioning look. The bar area was crowded, and all you needed for you plan to work was exactly what was about to happen. As another group of people tried to squish through the crowd behind you, your body was bumped forward, causing you to put your hand out and catch yourself on the man in front of you. As you’d hoped, the man turned around and you made your eyes wide and innocent as you looked up at him through your lashes, “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry. These crowds are terrible.”

The man smiled down at you, his eyes weren’t the same as Mattheo’s. The man’s were more of a walnut brown and felt cold, like this was all a game to him just as much you . His smile also was nothing near as stunning as Mattheo’s…but regardless the man was clearly falling for the charm you’d put on, eyeing you up and down as he spoke, “Oh it’s quite alright, beautiful.” You let out a bashful laugh, looking down at the ground. The man caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your gaze back to his, “Let me buy you a drink, your friend too.” His eyes flickered over your shoulder to Pansy.

“O-okay,” the boldness of his touch causing you to stutter over your words. Your chest ached once he turned to order the drinks. The interaction didn’t leave you as satisfied as it did Pansy, if anything it left you yearning for something else. You turned to Pansy after the man handed you the drinks, “I didn’t like that.” She hummed in acknowledgement, “Yeah I was more so testing a theory.” You raised both eyebrows at her, “Mind telling the whole class, Miss Parkinson?” Pansy shook her head, smiling as she downed half her drink, “Not, yet, Professor.”

The more you drank the more your chest ached. And the more you felt yourself longing for him. You were far beyond inebriated, not thinking clearly, but what Pansy couldn’t hear couldn’t hurt her. Mattheoooooo, you closed your eyes and called out to him, not even knowing where he was with the deal, if he was possibly fighting someone. You just wanted to hear his voice. Princess…what’s wrong? You smiled to yourself. You were sure to Pansy it seemed like you were just enjoying the music as your body still ebbed and flowed with the beat.

Mattheo’s frown turned down further, something that wasn’t unusual during business meet ups, but this one was going fairly well. “What’s up, boss?” Enzo leaned in to whisper to him. Mattheo held up a finger, trying to focus on your voice in his head, Teeeooooooo, miss youu. Mattheo’s jaw clenched, Birdie, where are you? You hated using your legimens, the fact that you were communicating with Mattheo that way, along with how you were talking was causing him high concern. I’m dancing wiff Pansy, she’s such a good dancer, Teo. I wish I was dancing with yoooou. Mattheo eyed Draco, silently telling him to take the lead before Mattheo walked off back towards the truck. Birdie, are you drunk? There’s no fucking dance floor at the house? Where the fuck are you?

He rubbed both hands over his face, trying to control his breathing. Not drunk…maybe drunk…don’t member the club name, like a pretty flower. Mattheo walked back towards the others, “Are you happy with the product or not?” He was being stern with the man but Mattheo needed this deal over with. The De Luca family member nodded his head, “Yeah, we’re happy. Well wire you the money first thing in the mornin’. Always good doin’ business with you, Riddle.” Mattheo nodded, shaking the man’s hand before grabbing Enzo’s collar and dragging him away with it. “Ow, woah, hey what the fuck?” Enzo was confused by the motion. “Birdie and Pansy went to a fucking club and now Birdies drunk, we have to go get them.”

Theo jogged to catch up, “Which club did our little trouble makers go to?” Mattheo scowled slightly, “This isn’t a fucking joke, Nott. And she said something about a pretty flower? She’s fucking drunk, she’s fucking talking to me through legimens and even then I can tell she’s slurring her words. You were a man whore in your prime, Nott, which club is that.” Theo huffed out a snort but didn’t deny Matthoe’s allegations, “Sounds like probably The Dahlia.” Mattheo nodded, “Draco, Blaise, you two take the truck back. Enzo, Theo, you’re coming with me.” The boys all nodded at their assignments as Mattheo reached out to you again, Stay put, Princess, I’m coming to get you. He rounded the corner with the other two boys to make sure they were out of sight before apparating to the alley down the block from the club.

Your voice rang in his head once more, Are you going to dance with me Teo? I miss you so m- Mattheo stopped in his tracks the moment your voice cut out causing the two behind him to almost smack into his back. “What is it, what happened?” Enzo was taking in their surroundings checking for threats he may have missed. “Her voice, it just…cut out. She was talking to me and then it was like something cut it off before she could finish.” Enzo wore a worried look, glancing over at Theo whose lips were downturned. Mattheo started walking again, only faster this time. As they approached the entrance to the club, the bouncer must have recognized Theo because he pulled back the rope and allowed the three men in without question.

As they approached the edge of the dance floor Mattheo gave one instruction, “Find them.” The three spread out, weaving through swaying, sweaty bodies as they tried to catch a glimpse of anyone that looked remotely like either you or Pansy. Running into Theo, Enzo asked if he had any luck. Theo shook his head, “Not yet. Every bloody black haired woman looks like Pansy out here and I can’t catch a glimpse of Birdie anywhere.” Mattheo approached the two, eyes asking the same question Enzo had moments before. Theo shook his head, Enzo’s height giving him an advantage in the middle of the crowd. “There,” he pointed over the heads of those around him. Theo and Mattheo turn, following his indication until they’re face to face with a very far gone Pansy.

She pouted as they approached, assuming they were there to break up the fun. She opened her mouth to complain when Matthoe effectively cut her off, “Where’s Birdie.” Pansy rolled her eyes, turning around the point at the person behind her. Only you weren’t there. Pansy turned in a circle, once, twice, three times before stopping and facing the men in front of her. “I swear, Mattheo, she was just here. She’s been by my side all night. We were dancing on each other not even five minutes ago.” Mattheo’s face grew hot, a sense of worry rushing over him that he’s never felt before for any kind of person, “What do you mean she was just here. Where the bloody fucking hell would she go?”

———-

You groaned lightly, your head pounding as you tried to sit up. The floor beneath you hard and cold, your outfit doing little for warmth. As you pushed yourself to a seated position you felt a weight in one of your wrists. Looking down you saw your wrist wrapped in a thick metal cuff, a chain attaching it, and effectively you, to the wall behind it. “What the fuck…” a low whisper left your lips as your eyes started to adjust to your surroundings. The floor below you was concrete, leaving a persistent chill running throughout your body. Around you seemed to be the layout of an old factory, abandon machinery and materials littered about the space. It was darker in the building, the emergency lights appearing to be the only functioning electricity around you.

Hugging your knees to yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to call out to Mattheo. You repeated his name, over and over and over. You groaned out in frustration, slapping the floor next to you, causing the chains to rattle. “Whatever it is you are trying to do will not work.” You stiffened, the sound of his voice was something you thought you had forgotten, but hearing it ring through your ears once more brought a flood of painful memories with it. You looked around, trying to anticipate the direction the voice was coming from, the the old walls of the factory had the sound reverberated from every direction. “You know I didn’t think you’d be knocked out this long. But then again, your drunken state must have heightened the effects of the Stupefy charm.”

You watched his figure emerge from the shadows, the fear you once felt quickly returning like a white hot burn all over your body. You scooted yourself back until you were nearly flat against the wall, your knees hugged to your chest as his name fell from your lips like a ghosted whisper, “Damiano…” He smiled, flashing all of his teeth like a snarling predator as he towered over you, “Hello, Sunshine. Did you miss me?” You stayed silently, trying to press yourself impossibly further away, leading him to let out a low and menacing chuckle. He squatted down to your level, forearms resting on his knees as he balanced himself on the balls of his feet. He reached out slowly, like he was going to touch your face. You turned quickly, swatting his hand away.

He smiled once more before grabbing your face harshly, forcing your gaze to meet his, “Don’t be like that, Sunshine. I’m being very nice only chaining one arm down, but if you misbehave I have no qualms doing the other.” You huffed out your nose, still refusing to speak to him. You closed your eyes once more, desperately trying to reach Mattheo, or anyone from the family for help. Damniano applied more pressure to his grip, surely leaving the beginning of what would be a bruise on your face when he was done. “I already told you…your little tricks your new boyfriend taught you aren’t going to work. I figured he was a legimens like his failure of a father. I put a spell on the building; he can’t hear you and you can’t hear him.” Your lip quivered slightly, a new sense of fear enveloping you.

Damiano tsked at you, “I knew it. I always knew you were a stupid, weak, little witch.” He let go of your face before swinging his palm and slapping your cheek with enough force to split your bottom lip. You gasped, coughing slightly to catch your breath again, spitting blood onto the cold stone before you. You glared at him, “You think I’m weak because I’m not like you? Abusing and torturing those that don’t agree or don’t do my bidding? Why am I even here, Damiano. What do you want with me?” He looked down at you once more, a devious smirk adorning his features, “This is why you’re stupid, Sunshine. Can you not see it? Godric, okay. Let me spell it out for you. I don’t want you. You’re nothing to me. Even when you were mine you were nothing, just a tool. And that’s what you are today. Well…more like…a tool.”

Your face fell, which only caused a laugh to emit from his throat, “Oh dear girl, don’t worry. We’re not going to kill you. But we’re going to make sure Mattheo and the rest of his little group get the message. He stole something valuable from me. You, Sunshine, were nothing, but your abilities were everything. I can’t just steal you back or he’ll sick his fucking dog Berkshire. Can’t have that can we? But what I can do, is send him a fucking message.” He drew his wand as he stood a few feet away from you. You held your breath, trying to prepare for whatever he was about to unleash, but nothing could help with what he casted. With a red light leaving the tip of his wand your body was instantly aflame with pain, your muscles and limbs contorting and squeezing with agony. Your breath felt like it was knocked from your lungs, your mouth agape and gasping for air.

Two more figures appeared beside Damiano, their wands also drawn and prepped for whatever torture they were directed with. After a few moments he broke the spell, grinning as you gasped for air and tried to hold your body up from the floor. “You know, I was really hoping you would scream. I sometimes find myself missing the sound of you squealing in pain when I used to punish you. No one has quite the same ring to it you had. Guess I’ll just have to up the intensity of it all. Boys,” he turned to his cronies on either side of him, “together this time.” In perfect unison the mumbled the spell together Crucio. Immediately your back arched off the floor, your arms and legs contorting awkwardly as the searing pain once again entered your body. A blood curdling scream left your throat, the sound nearly as defeating as the pain you were feeling. Your eyes rolled at the immense pain, your mind going blank.

As you felt like you were on the brink of passing out, Damiano instructed them all to stop. He turned to them once more, giving specific instructions, “I want you to rough her up a bit more, but don’t touch her face. I want her to be recognizable when they find her. The two men nodded before approaching you together. You managed to sit yourself up again, holding yourself up on wobbly arms. This position didn’t last as one of Damiano’s men quickly landed the heel of his boot to your shoulder, your collarbone cracking with the action. You flew back slightly at the action and collapsed on your back. You groaned in pain, clutching the area and turning to your side. The men began kicking you; in the stomach, in the ribs, in the back. You were a rag doll for their game of human football, barely audible grunts and moans slipping past your lips. “That’s enough,” Damniano’s voice rang out. You coughed, spitting out more blood that seemed to fill your mouth.

The two men left your side immediately, walking back to their previous positions to watch as Damiano approached you. He crouched over you again, taking your face in his hands. With his thumb he spread your blood over your lips, “I always did like red on you.” You tried to pull away, but your strength was null, “Like I said, Sunshine, you…are weak. But you were mine first. And I can’t let you, or anyone else, forget that.” He shoved you from his grip, you falling back down to the ground. You were limp on the cold concrete as Damiano lifted your skirt over your hips. You felt him grip the meat of your thigh closer to your hip before the tip of his wand began to dig into your skin with a white hot burn. A whimper left your throat as he carved into your skin; you could smell it burning. Once done he grabbed the back of your head, tilting your neck awkwardly so you could see his handiwork on your body. On the outside of your thigh, closer to your hip was a small symbol that would make it impossible for you to ever see it without thinking of Damiano. A sun.

A single tear fell down your cheek, Damiano leaning in and licking it off your face with a satisfied hum. “You know I love it when you cry, Sunshine. But I can’t stick around to watch. As soon as I’m gone, the blocking spells will be lifted. Then you can call your little dark lord boyfriend. You’re at 1538 Woodbury Lane in London. Really wish I could see his face when he finds you.” He pulled your skirt back down over your legs once more, patting your leg where he just carved your skin before walking away and apparating out of sight with a low popping noise. You waited a few moments, just to make sure he wasn’t coming back, before tightly shutting your eyes, your entire focus on Mattheo and anyone else in the family that might be able to hear you.

1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. You repeated the address over and over again until finally you heard him, We’re on our way, Princess, don’t move. You opened your eyes, at the sound of his voice, tears now flowing freely down your face. The irony of that statement ‘don’t move’ was not lost on you, causing a forced laugh from your lungs. With Mattheo’s confirmation that he was coming, you finally allowed your body to relax into the concrete below you. As if that was all the permission your body needed, your eyes felt heavy and soon, everything became dark.

#Protego series #mafia!matheo riddle #mafia!slytherin boys #mafia!blaise zabini #mafia!enzo berkshire #mafia!theo nott #mafia!draco malfoy #mafia!pansy parkinson #Mattheo riddle x you #Mattheo riddle x reader #Mattheo riddle angst #Mattheo riddle fic #mafia!au #mafia fic

[chaoticpuff17]

Amygdala

Masterlist

chapter 12

Yoongi awoke to a sharp elbow jabbed harshly into the flesh of his stomach. 

With a groan he turned over, releasing Margot from his grip and allowing her to scramble away from him. It was only when he heard the thump against the floor followed by a sharp yelp that Yoongi fully opened his eyes. 

A quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told him it was only four in the morning, too early to be dealing with any antics. 

“Jagi,” he groaned, rolling over to look at Margot who was half tangled in the blankets still and sprawled rather uncomfortably on the floor of his bedroom. “It’s too early for this.” 

“Fuck you.” She groaned in turn, not making any move to get up off the floor, still a little winded from her unexpected tumble off the bed. 

With a tired sigh, Yoongi pushed himself up off the bed. “Are you coming back to bed or are you staying on the floor?” he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“I think I’ll stay on the floor!” she declared breezily. “It’s quite comfortable down here.” 

Yoongi hummed, throwing his feet over the side of the bed, standing so that he could lean down and scoop her up blankets and all. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she shrieked, grabbing onto his shoulders for stability as he began to walk them out of the room. 

“Going to make some tea.” he grumbled, walking them to the kitchen and setting her down on a seat next to the island.

“Tea?” 

“To help you sleep.” 

She scoffed, pulling the blanket around herself like a cocoon. “I would sleep much better at home in my own bed.” 

He only hummed in response, puttering around his kitchen as he began to prepare a cup of tea for her. 

“When can I go home?” she asked, voice small as she pulled the edges of the blanket even tighter around her. 

Yoongi paused, frozen for a moment as the question hit him. “This is home, jagi.” He answered as he resumed the motions of making tea. 

“This is your home. When can I go back to my home?” 

He sighed, placing a mug down on the counter. “You tried to leave me, jagiya. You can’t go home anymore.” 

“So you’re going to keep me prisoner?” 

“You’re not a prisoner, jagiya.” he refuted, pouring hot water into the mug and letting the tea leaves steep. “You can come and go as you please so long as you have someone with you.” 

“So I can leave only if you’re with me. How is that not being a prisoner?” she asked, staring down at her toes, curled around the bar between the chair legs. 

“It doesn’t have to be me. Your security team can go with you.” 

“So guards? Like a prisoner?” 

With another heavy sigh, Yoongi made his way over to her, slipping his hand along the curve of her jaw and tipping her head up so that she was looking at him as his hand settled with his thumb under her chin keeping her head tipped up. 

“I want you to be happy here, Mari-ah.” he rumbled, drinking in her features and taking note of how exhausted she looked. 

He was sure they both looked exhausted. It had been a long night for both of them with not nearly enough rest. 

“You’re not a prisoner. My home is your home, but I cannot…” He paused, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes as he tried to reign in his emotions. He was still reeling from the panic of nearly losing her. “I cannot lose you. Not again.” 

“You can’t lose what you never had, Yoongi.” she sighed, pushing his hand away as he looked at her almost wounded. “And I don’t want to be with you.” 

“I know you’re not happy to be here.” he conceded. “This isn’t how I wanted this to happen either, but we’re here now. The only thing we can do is move forward.” 

“I want to go home.” 

“That’s just not possible.” 

Yoongi moved away, partially to finish preparing her tea and partially to escape the way she was looking at him, eyes dark and pleading, begging him to give in and let her have her way. In any other matter he probably would have, but not in this. 

“What about my job? My life?” 

“You don’t need to work. I can take care of you.” 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “With your criminal enterprises?” 

“I don’t want to argue with you, Mari.” he walked over, steaming cup of tea in hand. 

“It’s  not drugged is it?” she asked, eyeing it suspiciously as she took it, giving the cup a tentative sniff. 

“No, but it will help you sleep.” 

“I don’t want to sleep.” 

Yoongi regarded her carefully, taking in the way she was curled in on herself, the dark smudges under her eyes, the faint tremble in her fingers as she held the mug close to her chest. 

She needed to sleep, but he doubted she was going to allow herself to relax enough to go back to bed, not anytime soon at least which was going to make this an even longer night for the both of them. Dawn hadn’t even begun to break over the horizon yet. 

“How is this going to work?” she asked, voice small but still drawing Yoongi’s attention to her like a magnet. 

“How is what going to work, jagi?” 

“This.” she gestured vaguely around her. “What are the parameters? How do you expect this to go? People are going to notice I’m missing.” 

“You’re not missing.” he shrugged, brushing off that concern right off the bat with a nonchalance that bothered her. “I’m not holding you prisoner. This is your home as much as it is mine. I’m not going to stop you from going out. I’m not going to take away your access to the world.” 

“I just can’t leave you.” she finished for him, staring at her mug with a furrow between her brows.

“You can’t leave me.” he confirmed. “Hey.” he called out to her softly, tipping her chin up to face him again. “It’s not so bad. We can be happy together. Just like old times.” 

“That was six years ago, Yoongi. We’re very different people now.” 

“Not so different.” he disagreed. “But you’re right. We do need to set some rules.” She tensed, her shoulders pulling back as though she was bracing for a blow. “I don’t want to restrict you, jagiya, but I need to know that you’re safe, that you’re here.” 

“That I haven’t run away from you.” she added bitterly. 

“That too.” he conceded, not even trying to hide the fact that he had an almost unhealthy need to have her next to him. “You can go where you like. You can see where you like, but I need to know where you are at all times.” 

“I’m not a child, Yoongi.” 

“No, but you are a woman with a history of trying to slip away from me.” he pointed out, leveling her with a blank stare that dared her to argue that point with him. “If you go out, I need to know where you are. I need to know you’re safe, and that means that either I or your security team needs to be with you.” 

“How many people are on my security team?” 

“At the moment?” he asked, and she nodded. “Six. Two with you at all times, and they rotate in shifts.” 

“That’s a lot of people just to keep an eye on me.” 

“You’re the most important thing in my life, Margot.” he stated, his voice calm but completely serious as he spoke. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” 

“Yeong is part of my team.” she ventured to guess as she turned her eyes back to the mug gripped between her hands. “And the guy from earlier.” 

“Yes.” he nodded. “They can take you anywhere you need to go.” 

“Do they report to you if I go out?”

Yoongi hesitated for a moment before answering. “They do.” 

“So you get to know where I am at all times whether I want you to or not.” she pointed out, taking a sip from her tea. It was warm and earthy in flavor, some sort of herbal mix meant to help her relax and drift back off to sleep.

“I love you, Margot, but I won’t risk leaving you again.” 

Her head shot up at that. “You don’t love me.” she shook her head, eyes troubled and a deep frown etched onto her features. “You don’t even know me anymore.” 

Yoongi smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. It was a bittersweet expression filled with a pain she didn’t want to put a name to. 

“I would love you even if I hadn’t seen you in fifty years.” he told her, hands coming to rest on the island, arms caging her in. “Letting you go six years ago was the biggest mistake of my life. I have regretted not telling you how I felt every day since you left.” She stared at him with wide eyes as he spoke, not quite believing what she was hearing. “Is it so terrible that I want you with me, jagiya?” she didn’t answer. “Losing you again would break me.” he admitted, voice low and raspy as he spoke. “I know this isn’t ideal. I know what I do scares you.” 

One of his hands shot out, plucking the mug from her grip just as her hold had begun to loosen. Yoongi set the mug aside, before lifting his hand to brush some loose hair away from her face, gazing at her with an expression that settled somewhere between loving and manic. The glint in his eye sending a shiver down her spine. 

“I can protect you, jagiya. I can keep you safe, and everything will be as it should be. You never need to be a part of what I do. I just need you with me.” 

“You’re crazy.” she whispered, staring at him with fresh horror.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, shooting her a crooked grin, that disturbing glint still in his eye. “But I know what I want, and that’s you, jagiya. It’s always been you.” 

His grin faded as he continued to look at her, his eyes scanning her features and his look becoming serious.

“Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built is nothing without you.” 

“You’ve completely lost your mind.” her voice was low and hushed as she spoke, her gaze less frightened and more pitying now as she examined the man before her. 

Yoongi leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he enjoyed the closeness, relishing the fact that she was allowing him so close. 

“I love you.” he whispered, the words loud in the silence of the room. 

“If you love me, let me go.” she whispered in return, her own eyes drifting shut in the intimacy of the moment. 

A sardonic chuckle left him as he pulled back, one of his hands coming up to cup her cheek. 

“I can’t do that, baby. You know that.” her eyes opened, watching him as his thumb drifted softly across her cheekbone. “I can let you have your freedom, but I can’t let you go. At the end of the day, I need you with me.” 

“It’s not freedom if I can’t leave you, Yoongi. It’s not my choice.” 

He stared at her for a moment, head tilted to the side as he considered her words. “I know, but it’s the best I can offer you.”

She pulled back, staring at him contemplatively as he had her. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Margot turned, grabbing her mug from the island before hopping down from her chair, pushing past Yoongi with the blanket trailing behind her as she left the kitchen, breaking the moment. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, trailing after her.

“I don’t know.” she shrugged, sipping her tea. “But I’m not going back to bed.” 

“It’s four in the morning, jagiya.” he grumbled even though he continued to follow her as she moved out into the living space and plopped herself down on his couch. 

“Then go back to bed.” She said, looking at him as though this was the obvious answer. He didn’t move. “I’m too tired to deal with anymore of your bullshit tonight.” she groaned, leaning her head against the back of the sofa.

“Then come to bed.” he shot back, waiting for her to move. 

“I want my own room.” she declared, and Yoongi shot her a vicious grin before shooting her down.

“Not happening, my love.” 

“Why not?” she demanded, lifting her head to look at him.

“I don’t want you so far from me.” 

She groaned, letting her head drop again. “You’re exhausting.”

“Then come to bed.” he offered again. 

“Do I get my own room?” she asked, her head tilted to the side.

“No.”

“Then no thank you.” 

“It’s late.” he said, trying to prompt her into returning to their room and the comfort of their bed, but she didn’t so much as acknowledge he’d spoken at all.

With a heavy sigh, Yoongi plopped himself down beside her on the couch, throwing his arms across the back of the couch as he did. “You are an incredibly frustrating woman.” 

She chuckled a little, sipping her tea. “You kidnapped me. You get to deal with it.”

part 13

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yandere fic #mafia fic #mafia au #yandere au #yandere bts #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #yandere agust d #mafia bts #mafia yoongi #mafia suga #mafia agust d #yoongi x oc #suga x oc #agust d x oc #dark romance #amygdala #mafia kpop #yandere kpop #yandere #mafia

[racinggirl]

illegally good || Charles Leclerc 16

part of the 700 celebration drabbles!

words: 3k Oh my god, I know I said drabbles, but I promise it's good! I had such a blast writing this, I am in love. Mafia / confident / boss Charles is absolutely my favorite! also, excuse my French, this GIF? URGH. Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy reading! Please let me know your thoughts about this fic below! I'd love to hear your perspective on it :) warnings: mafia, swearing, mentions of murder, kidnapping, abuse (nothing major), all with a fluff ending because you know me

(as a part of my 700 followers celebration, I'm taking requests for drabbles, check this post for more information)

One thing you absolutely hated? Taking care of other people’s dirty jobs, especially when those people were getting the credits for it. Credit you should get, because those people did not deserve a single compliment about their efforts. 

It happened to you, and you were tired of it, tired of the fact you were not getting any promotions – if you could even call it promotions in the business you worked at – or credits for the things you did. So, you quit. You said goodbye to your old life, after months of trying to sneak away, to disappear from the radar entirely, before coming back as a new you.

New name, check. New hair, check. New house, new identity, check. 

All those things happened when you were just 12, growing up in the business your father, who was a leader of the mafia, built, hoping you’d take over that same business one day. But things changed, and especially for being a woman, you knew people wouldn’t listen. They weren’t moving with the years, they weren’t modernizing. No. They were old school, old fashioned and would think of a woman as a side job, someone who’d do all the dirty work, take care of the kids, be safe at home while the men would do the real deal. 

Your father wasn’t happy, at all, when you ran away at the age of 19. You moved countries, all on your own. Away from everything. You had promised your father you wouldn’t tell anyone about his business, about his secret life, if he’d leave you alone. You were the daughter of a mafia boss, after all. You knew how to get the things you wanted. 

Fast forward 3 years, in which you were a ‘normal’ university student. ‘Normal’ because, even though you were just 22 years old, you were rich. You were able to rent an apartment in the highest possible level, in the fanciest country of Europe. Monaco.

That’s why, you and your friends, who were studying fashion in Italy, were now wandering the crowded streets of your country. The Formula One weekend was here, which created thousands of people exploring the streets you called home. 

Loads of celebrity’s called Monaco their home as well, why? Taxes. Money. Living in Monaco meant life was expensive, but it also meant you could afford the expensive lifestyle due to the low taxes. Something that made the decision to moving to Monaco even easier. 

‘’This is amazing.’’ One of your friends exclaimed when you were walking through the paddock of the Monaco Grand Prix, of course you had tickets, you wanted them, so you’d get them. 

‘’It’s quite impressive, indeed.’’ You replied, your hands in the pockets of your jeans as you looked around, the colorful motorhomes of each team slowly appearing in front of you. However, one motorhome stood out, and not because of the color, but because of the person in front of it. 

Charles Leclerc, 25 years old, born and raised in Monte Carlo, Monaco. Formula One driver and loved amongst many. However, that’s not how you knew him. Aside from his job in the motorsports industry, he also was part of a group, and not just a normal group. 

Your father had warned you about them, but you knew it was just so you wouldn’t be sloppy with your work and to make sure you’d deliver the best possible outcomes. You had never met them, the Italian mafia, but you had heard stories. Rumors, about this man in front of you in particular. 

The Formula One career was a perfect cover up for the things he did, since nobody knew about it, and nobody would even believe the stories about Charles Leclerc being a member of the mafia. How could he, he was so innocent, so sweet and gentle. 

‘’Oh, my goodness that’s Charles Leclerc, come on, we should say hi!’’ You mentally strangled your friend the moment she started walking to the Ferrari driver, dragging the rest of your friends along with her. Just perfect. 

‘’Hi, Charles! It’s so nice to meet you, could we get a picture?’’ Charles listened to the ladies, as the gentleman he is, and took the pictures. However, you weren’t going to take one step closer to your enemy. Okay, he wasn’t technically your enemy anymore since you left your fathers business, but you couldn’t betray your family like that. 

‘’Come on y/n, join us for the pictures!’’ Your friends were standing next to Charles, as his racing suit was lowered to his hips, revealing the red fireproof top that fitted him like a glove. 

‘’I’m fine, thanks.’’ You weren’t taking your eyes off the Monegasque, feeling the need to keep an eye on whatever he did, every sneaky movement he’d make would be something you’d see. And he knew, he knew who you were, he knew what you were doing as well. 

However, he didn’t mention it, he didn’t put his active attention on you, knowing it would cause people to become suspicious. However, you weren’t stupid. You knew he knew, and that made you even more careful about your actions. 

‘’Goodluck on the race.’’ Your friends cheered on the driver, who returned a smile. ‘’Thank you, ladies, have fun watching the race. I’m sure you love some action.’’ And you knew those last words were directed towards you, that it was just a sneaky way of letting you know he knew who you were. 

Two months forward, and it was summer in Monaco. The sun was shining, people were swimming in the ocean, tanning on the beach, and you were one of them. As much as you told yourself the things from your past would stay in the past, you couldn’t help but keep thinking about him. Trying to track everything he did whenever you saw him walking through the streets of Monaco, driving his Ferrari, greeting fans. He almost looked innocent. Almost. 

It was late, almost 3 am, when you were walking through the dark streets of Monaco. Maybe you had a little too much to drink, but you for sure weren’t going to stay the night at the club. You were tired and wanted to go home. Your friends, however, were still having the best time of their lives, so you gave them the spare key to your house, not feeling the need to spend 3 more hours in that club. 

You were making your way home, humming slightly to yourself as you suddenly felt two hands gripping your waist, a little tighter than a friendly person would do. The action made you scream, but it was quickly muffled by another pair of hands on your mouth, preventing you from screaming even more. 

Your eyes were wide open, as you tried to identify the two men that were holding you. But it was dark, making it almost impossible for you to see who were hiding under the black beanies and mouth masks. 

‘’Silent, pretty, you’re coming with us.’’ And that’s when you knew. You recognized that voice, not because you’ve heard it live before, but because you heard it over the phone multiple times whenever your father had another heated discussion over the phone. 

‘’And what if I don’t want to, Niccolo.’’ You groaned, but the sharp metal leaning against your side made you clench your jaw, a sigh escaping your lips as your eyes closed to think. 

‘’I don’t think you have a choice, bambina.’’

-

‘’You know I quit 3 years ago, I have nothing, I know nothing.’’ You said as you felt the rope against your wrists, looking up at the right hand of Vincenzo, Niccolo. Before you could speak even more, the big metal door on the left opened, a big man, typical Italian, typical mafia boss, came walking through the doors. 

‘’Vincenzo, we found her, capo.’’ Niccolo spoke up, stepping aside to give the man full access to you. 

He grabbed your jaw, tightly, as he moved your face left to right, checking out your delicate features. ‘’No microphones, no cameras?’’ He grunted, harshly releasing his grip on your face the moment his workers told him you had nothing on you. 

‘’I fucking told you. I quit. I have nothing to do with my father anymore. I guess your minions aren’t the best at keeping an eye out for the competi-‘’ A harsh slap across your face made you shut your mouth, a burning sensation running through your cheek. 

‘’Shut up.’’ Vincenzo glared at you, pacing back and forth as he thought, about you, about your father, about the entire situation in front of him. 

You slowly turned your gaze forward again, moving your jaw left to right to try and get rid of the painful sensation. You stayed silent for a few more seconds, but again, you were the daughter of a mafia boss, this wasn’t the first time you got slapped in the face. 

‘’ You won’t get anything out of me, you know that.’’ You muttered, narrowing your eyes as Vincenzo appeared in front of you, the biggest smirk on his face as he rubbed your still burning cheek. 

‘’I know, bambina, I know, but I’m sure your father would hate to see his precious little daughter on the edge of death.’’ He whispered; the smirk still apparent on his face. You couldn’t help but feel shivers over your entire body. Maybe it was the fact the alcohol was getting out of your system, or maybe it was the intimidation you felt from the man in front of you, but you weren’t going to let them win. 

‘’You should brush your teeth, asshole.’’ You replied, watching the smirk disappear from Vincenzo’s face, followed by a black screen in front of you, the consequence of a harsh smack across the back of your head, causing you to pass out in the uncomfortable wooden chair. 

-

‘’She’s with me, yes.’’ You heard a faint voice on the other side of the room, the bright light from the sun outside being too much for your eyes to bare now, so you closed your eyes again, slowly. 

‘’No, she’s no longer part of the group. Listen to me, Vincenzo. You stay away from her, understood? If I ever see you near her again, I’ll make sure you won’t…’’ That’s all you could hear, the faint voice kept speaking, but you weren’t listening since you passed out again, but this time in a comfortable soft bed. 

You woke up hours later, it was dark outside, and there was a soft music playing in the background, piano music, to be precise. You tried to adjust to the environment for a few seconds before slipping your feet out of the bed, your toes running through the soft carpet at the sides of it. 

You weren’t wearing your party dress anymore, but instead, you were dressed in an oversized shirt, which for sure wasn’t yours. 

The headache at the back of your head was making it hard for you to focus, but you could swear the piano music was live, and not from a random radio station. The flawless melody paired with the fine tunes sounded like magic to your ears, and you followed the sound of the music till you found yourself in a room with the one man you for sure weren’t expecting. 

The music faded, until it completely stopped, but you didn’t move. You watched the back of the man as you leaned against the doorframe, your arms crossed in front of your chest. 

‘’Did you take the painkillers?’’ Was the first thing he said, without even turning around to face you. 

‘’No.’’ You saw them, but you weren’t going to take random pills on the nightstand in a room you didn’t know. 

‘’Are you feeling better?’’ The man asked again, this time slowly turning around to take a decent look at you. 

‘’Why am I here?’’ You asked. ‘’I already told Vincenzo I know nothing about the business my father has right now. So, what the fuck do you want?’’ You were annoyed, mostly by the fact you got kidnapped in the middle of the night, twice. You had lost track of time, not even knowing what day it was right now. 

‘’I’ll take that as a yes.’’ The man said, reaching for the cup of water which was standing on top of the piano. He handed it to you, to which you rolled your eyes. He then took a sip himself, and handed that same cup to you again, which, this time, you accepted. 

‘’Sit down.’’ He said, looking over to the couch after watching you take a sip of the water. 

‘’I’m perfectly fine standing where I am.’’ You replied, playing with the cup of water in your hands. 

‘’Whatever you’d like.’’ The man responded, taking a seat on the couch as he looked at the table in front of him. 

‘’I’d like an explanation, Charles.’’ You spoke. ‘’First, I’m being kidnapped by Niccolo at fucking 3 am after a party with my friends, only to be brought to Vincenzo, who’s not even hesitating a second to murder me. Then he beats me till I pass out, and I wake up in I assume your apartment, after I heard you talk to Vincenzo. What are you going to do to me, Charles, kill me? Hold me hostage? Torture me? I wish you luck, because I’m not giving you a single piece of information.’’ 

Charles sighed, heavily, his gaze moving from the table to you, before getting up from the couch. He walked closer towards you, lifting your chin up carefully to watch the bruises across your face. 

‘’I’m not like that anymore, y/n.’’ He started. ‘’I left the group once my career became serious when I got to Formula One. I’m not your enemy anymore.’’ He mentioned, and at first you didn’t believe him. But once he started to explain everything, from the way he had more power than Vincenzo, how his career in Formula One had become one of the most important things in life, and mainly how he followed you those last couple of months. He knew you were in Monaco, and he quickly found out you were no longer part of your fathers’ group. He almost felt obligated to keep an eye on you, to keep you safe from any of the things he knew Vincenzo would do, but he knew that if he told Vincenzo to stay away from you, he’d only give insight in the fact you were in Monaco, and Charles preferred to keep that a secret. 

However, when they found out you were currently staying in the country, they stroked, and before Charles could even do anything, they had captured you. The only thing Charles could do was demand Vincenzo and his group to bring you to his place, which he immediately did. He saved your life, and why? Because he knew you were innocent, you were just like him, someone that had been thrown at this life, but chose the right path instead of the wrong one. 

Now, years later, and you were walking through that same paddock where you saw him for the very first time. Only this time you weren’t just a stranger anymore. 

‘’y/n! y/n! Over here! This camera!’’ You smiled sweetly at the cameras, flashes lightening the way in front of you as you saw the man standing at the exact same place he was 4 years ago, only this time, he was your man. 

‘’Ciao bella.’’ Charles wrapped his arm around your shoulders, his lips pressing a delicate kiss against your temple as you closed your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’Hey handsome.’’ You responded; a smile painted on your lips as you looked up at your boyfriend. 

‘’Charles! Y/n! such a lovely couple, can you look at this camera for a second?’’ Photographers were slowly gathering around you, at which Charles’ arm wrapped around your shoulder even tighter, in order to keep you safe, to protect you from anything out there. Not that it was needed anymore, because Vincenzo had been arrested, along with the rest of his group. 

‘’Let’s go inside, hmm. I heard we have pizza inside.’’ Charles whispered in your ear, at which your smile grew even wider. ‘’Well then, come on, what are we waiting for?’’ You exclaimed happily, your hand intertwining with his as you walked inside the hospitality. 

But once you walked inside, you were disappointed with the fact there wasn’t a single slice of pizza to be seen. ‘’Charles!’’ You exclaimed, turning around to watch your boyfriend step closer to you. ‘’There’s no pizza…’’ You whispered as his arms wrapped around your waist, your arms resting on his shoulders as you played with the hair at the back of his neck. 

‘’I know, love, I just wanted you to myself.’’ He whispered, placing a few kisses at the corners of your mouth. ‘’And I’ll get you as much pizza as you want tonight.’’ He added, at which the corners of your mouth turned upward almost instantly. 

‘’I love you, Charles.’’ You whispered, closing your eyes as you felt his fingers tucking a single strand of hair behind your ear. 

‘’I love you too, my love, more than you can ever imagine.’’ And with that, he pressed his lips on yours, slowly, softly, but oh so illegally good…

#f1 #f1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 drabble #formula 1 fic #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #mafia Charles Leclerc #mafia #mafia fic #Charles Leclerc angst #Charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader #f1edit #charles leclerc #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction

[guilty-pleasures21]

Maybe this will just be my trash one.

I know this is cheating, but I re-wrote part 2 and I am MUCH happier with the result! So happy that I've already planned out all the other parts of this chapter and just have to write them out before posting them 😄.

1. Um ... yeah ...

Part 1 - the beginning

Part 2 - the car

Part 3 - the detectives

Part 4 - the contract

Part 5 - the clothes

Warnings: a lot of touching and mentions of arousal.

_______________________________________________

     Her steps were slow and careful as she walked to the car, her eyes flickering around her surroundings discreetly to search for a possible escape route. But Francesco had locked her far away in the countryside, the only thing for miles the rolling hills of green around them. She felt Miguel increase the pressure on her lower back and she sped up her steps a little. He kept his hand on her as he reached forward to open the car door and she lowered her head as she entered, stepping into it meekly. Her eyes remained on her feet as Miguel slid in next to her and she curled her toes in her sneakers awkwardly. She'd put them on when they'd left, but they looked so at odds with his silky black shirt, the luxurious material feeling like nothing at all against her skin. Then they started moving and X reached up to grab her seatbelt. 

     He looked up from his phone when he heard the ‘click’, his attention momentarily pulled away from the blog post Margot had sent him. Sure, it wasn't the most reliable source, but it seemed like Francesco maybe hadn't failed his wife in every aspect of their relationship. Miguel glanced over at X to find that she was already watching him out of the corner of her eye, her hands curled around her seatbelt as she snuck a look at him. She startled when he met her gaze and quickly looked away, turning her attention to the miles of nothingness around them instead. Miguel grinned at her apprehension and set his phone aside before unclicking her seatbelt and dragging her closer to him. 

     She whimpered as her knee crashed into his, taken aback by the sudden gesture, and moved her grip to her bag instead. She didn't know why he hadn't stopped her from bringing it along, but at least she might still be able to find a way out of her current predicament. She had her passport, after all, along with her phone and all the money Francesco had had wired to her account. Sure, she didn't have any proper clothes right then, but she could always buy some new ones at the airport. If they'd even let her in in her current state. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts - she couldn't think like that. She just had to hold her head high and strut into the airport like the rich man's wife she was. The rich man's wife she'd been, that is. 

     He scratched her knee lightly, watching with amusement as the thoughts flitted across her face. She really was cute; small and soft, engulfed by his large shirt as she sat there scheming against him. “¿Qué pasa, cariño? Why are you suddenly acting so shy, mi angelita?” 

     She swallowed down a scoff, offended by the teasing note in his voice. But she couldn't hide the way her eyebrows scrunched together over her eyes, her features betraying her anger. 

     “Mi-” She paused suddenly, biting down on her tongue to keep his name from falling from her lips. She didn't want him to think they'd established some sort of friendship - some form of casual intimacy that might lead him to think that they were …. accomplices or something. She wasn't his accomplice! She hadn't intended to help him. She'd just … gotten carried away, that’s all. She cleared her throat, hoping her voice sounded firm when she next spoke. “Sir.” 

     She turned to face him, sitting up straight so that he couldn't drape himself all over her like he kept trying to do. “You got what you wanted, right? I helped you out with those … those papers?”

     It wouldn't do to give away how much she really knew: no one ever suspected the bimbo, after all, the naive and spoilt rich man's wife who didn't give a damn about anything but how many zeros were on the price tag of the new Cartier bracelet she wanted (the more, the better). “So, um …” 

     She hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase it. Kidnappers were more inclined to let their victims go when they showed them sympathy; when they pretended to have feelings for them and understand the reasons behind the actions. Maybe all those true crime documentaries she was obsessed with would finally pay off. Take that, Francesco! X placed her hand over Miguel's, rearranging her features into a reassuring expression. 

     “Thank you,” she told him, holding his gaze so he'd think she meant it. “For all your help regarding my … my vile husband.” She placed one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach, then shuddered like she was trying to hold back a sob. 

     “I can’t … I can’t believe he would lie to me like that!” she choked out, wondering if she should try to squeeze some tears out too. She took a deep breath and straightened, making a show of gathering her strength. Then she turned back to Miguel, his fiery gaze already fixed on her as he watched her carefully. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, Miguel, I …”

     She reached a hand out, as if she meant to cup his face, but then her eyes began to drift over his angled features before finally coming to a rest on his lips. She swallowed hard as her mouth began to water at the memory of them against hers, on her neck, her breasts, her- She froze, realising she'd been leaning towards him, then dropped her hand back to her lap and twisted away from him. Shit! She hoped he wouldn't get distracted and try to touch her again; try to keep her and use her until he got bored of her. Because what would he do with her then? 

     “I just … I just want to go home, Miguel,” she tried again, her chest tightening with genuine desperation as she looked up at him. “Please?” 

     She dug her nails into her palms as memories of her parents and her sister and their small flat back home overtook her. Home. How long had it been since she'd had a home? Since she'd had a place she felt welcome in, a place she felt safe going back to every night. She sighed and sank into Miguel's side, all the fight leaving her at the thought. “Can you please just take me home?” 

     She'd been lying before, when she’d been playing dumb about her husband’s documents. But then she’d started talking about home and he could tell that she meant it. He knew what it felt like, after all; being chased out of the only home you’d ever known - the only place you’d ever truly felt safe. He brushed her hair away from her face, noting the tears hovering on the tips of her eyelashes. 

     It took her by surprise, the tenderness of his gesture, the gentleness of his fingers as they wiped the tears away from her cheeks. She pulled herself up again to gauge his reaction and her heart began speeding up in her chest as she waited to see if he'd bought it. 

     His eyes flitted across her face, jumping from one feature to the next before finally settling on her lips. He tipped her chin up and lowered his face to hers, bringing their mouths just a breath apart. She shivered as he ran his thumb across her lower lip, as his words rumbled through her bones, his voice low and thick like honey when he next spoke. “Where would you like me to take you, angelita?” 

     Her eyelids fluttered shut and she leaned forward slightly, her body moving almost instinctively towards his. He grinned, delighted, and pressed his lips to hers, his hand moving to cup her face and hold her in position against him. He moaned as she kissed him back, the movements of her tongue slow and sweet against his, and grabbed at her waist, trying to tug her on top of him.

     She slid her hand up his thigh from where she'd been holding onto his knee to maintain her balance. He was so large and strong and she could feel her p*ssy begin to throb at the feeling of his muscles between her fingers, at the proximity of her hand to his c*ck. She sighed at the sound of his satisfied moans and scratched her nails along the joint between his pelvis and his thigh. She yelped as he nipped at her lower lip in response, then let out a moan of her own when he glided his hand up her thigh, his fingers slipping beneath her shirt and between her legs. 

     He moved his mouth to her neck as he rubbed her thigh with his thumb, teasing her with how close his fingers were to her exposed p*ssy. She whined in protest as he refused to touch her where she wanted him most and he chuckled at the sweet sound. 

     “Mmm, angelita.” He groaned against her neck and her head fell back with pleasure as the vibrations of his deep voice caused her to shudder against him. He growled and grazed his teeth along her throat, nibbling his way up to her jaw and nudging her head aside to expose more of her skin to him. She was so small, so deliciously small beneath him, and he couldn't wait to get her back to his place and pin her down on his bed, trapping her tiny form underneath him.

     “Mmm, shit,” X murmured, sliding her hand up his torso, his chest bare beneath his jacket. Her nipples tingled at the memory of being pressed up against his chest, the defined lines of his muscles pushing into her skin and pleasuring her immensely. She bit her lip and tangled her fingers in his hair as he continued to lick and suck on her neck, the citrus and nutmeg scent of him causing her stomach to flip with excitement. “Mi-” 

     Miguel?! Hoh! ‘Shit’ was right! Not ‘shit, Miguel’, but ‘shit! Miguel!’. She pushed herself away from him quickly, sliding back across to the other side of the car and putting some distance between them. 

     ¿Qué p*tas? Miguel opened his eyes as the hand that had been holding X fell to the seat. He stayed hunched over like that for a while, his eyes fixed on the black leather beneath him as he tried to catch his breath. Why had she moved away from him so suddenly? His fingers curled into a fist and he looked up at her, his coppery eyes blazing as he raised an eyebrow in question. 

     “Angelita.” He straightened and ran a hand through his dishevelled locks, pushing his wavy hair out of his eyes. “What the hell was that?!” 

     She opened and closed her mouth, stammering for a response as she gestured between the two of them. But how could she give him a response when she herself couldn't understand what had just happened? She twisted around in her seat and pressed herself against the window, doing her utmost to avoid any part of him - God, she was so unnecessarily horny that even the sight of him seemed enough to make her wet. What the hell had he done to her?! 

     “I don't even know you, Miguel!” she reiterated, as if that was the biggest problem she was facing right now. She stretched her arm behind her, holding a hand up in surrender, but keeping her head turned staunchly away from him. “I’ll go home! I’ll go home! Just … drop me off in town or something! I can figure it out. Just … I’ll never see you again! I promise!”

     That was not at all how he'd wanted her to respond. She'd never see him again? Why didn't she want to see him again? “Why would I do that?” 

     Finally, she turned back to him, her jaw dropped open in horror. He couldn't possibly want to keep her, could he? Like she was some pet he could play with when he was bored? The very idea made her stomach curdle - she was so much better than that. “Because! I have nothing else to offer you!” 

     He pursed his lips as he let his eyes trail over her delicious little body. Not that he'd actually keep her for that - she was much too smart to let that brilliant brain of hers just rot away like Francesco had. But it was too much fun watching how she responded to his teasing, her emotions spilling out of her like she'd never been taught how to keep them locked away. He rubbed his chin, pretending to think about it as he lifted his gaze back to hers. 

     “I don't know, cariño,” he admitted truthfully. “I think you have much more to offer me than your ‘husband’ ever did.” His lips twitched at the ends in anticipation of the outburst he knew was coming. X scoffed in indignation, offended by the suggestion. 

     “I'm not going to do that!” she exclaimed, glaring up at him in anger. He raised an eyebrow and she gulped as she suddenly remembered the gun strapped to his waist. “Sir.” Miguel bit on his lip as he curled his fingers around her thigh and pulled her back over to him. 

     “I don't think that's having the effect you want it to, cariño,” he advised her, his minty breath caressing her ear as he bent over to murmur in it. “It's only getting me harder than if you'd just say my name.” He pressed a lingering kiss to the base of her ear and she squealed with frustration at the way her body kept reacting to the feeling of him around her, to the scent of him curling around her insides and squeezing them tight. She pulled herself out of his grasp and zipped back across to the other side of the car, panting heavily as she tried to calm her racing heart. 

     He growled in irritation as he almost fell over onto the seat again. ¡Carajo, she had to stop doing that! He pushed himself back up and glared at her furiously, waiting for an explanation. 

     “I'm not … I'm not some ‘call girl’, Miguel. I have a degree.” She sniffed, upset, and turned her head away from him as she folded her arms across her chest. “A good one.” 

     She looked so cute when she was upset with him that he felt all his frustration melt away at the sight. “And? Who says call girls don't have degrees?” 

     X shifted in her seat uncomfortably, slightly embarrassed at his call out. Miguel reached a hand out and tickled her knee with his fingernails, noticing her sudden change in demeanour.

     “You can make good money being a call girl,” he informed her, his tone gentle like he was trying to convince her of it. “Pay off some of those student loans from your ‘good degree’.”

     She frowned at his mocking tone, her eyebrows scrunching together as she scowled up at him, her lush lips twisting down at the ends. F*ck, he wanted to kiss her again. 

     “I don't have any student loans,” she revealed to him. She'd worked hard for her scholarship. And then again to keep it, always forgoing nights out and social get-togethers in favour of late-night study sessions by herself. And whatever her scholarship hadn't covered, Francesco had eventually taken care of. She peeked over at Miguel and her expression softened as she studied his broad build, his tanned skin, his defined muscles. “And besides, if it's such a good job, then why don't you do it?” 

     X looked up at him as she waited for his response, doing her best not to smile at the suddenly thunderous expression on his face. “I'm sure you'd easily hit a billion within a few years.”

     “Angelita.” His tone was warning, his little fangs peeking out from between his lips as he scowled at her. He really was good-looking - unfairly so. X shot him a smug smile, victory shooting through her as she finally gained the upper-hand. 

     “See?” she pointed out to him. “You don't think it's a respectable profession either.” Miguel opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again when he found himself unable to think of anything. He crossed his arms over his chest, impressed. 

     “Well, anyway, no te preocupes, mi angelita (don't worry, my little angel),” he reassured her, “that's not what I was thinking about.” It was entirely a lie: he didn't want to have to pay her for it - to keep her locked up in a bedroom somewhere, just waiting for him to visit her and have his way with her. No, he wanted her to want it too; to want to feel his skin on hers, his lips against hers, the both of them worshipping and exploring one another with equal desperation. He wanted her to want him. But that could wait. 

     “You were a scientist, right?” he asked her unexpectedly. “Before you got married. A pretty good one too. What happened?” 

     X's eyes widened at the question and her heart started pounding in her chest with panic. She shook her head slightly, rearranging her features back into an expression of disinterest before she turned to face him. “I got bored.” 

     She waved away his concerns and folded her arms across her chest, trying to assume the role of a spoiled rich man's wife that Francesco had tried to instil in her. But Miguel didn't buy it for a second. She was good at it, sure - manipulating people to get what she wanted. She'd spent her whole life at the mercy of rich and powerful men, after all, she must have picked up some tips along the way. But there was something between them, something that made it feel like they'd known each other forever. Something that felt a little bit like home. “Of being a wanted criminal?” 

     “Sounds pretty exciting to me,” he confessed, his lips curling into a lazy smirk as he looked over at her. “But what would I know about that?” 

     He leaned back in his seat after saying it, feigning that same look of boredom she was trying so hard to emulate. Only he'd had far more practice than she had.

     She wanted to scream. She wanted to pull at her hair and yell in frustration and throw a full on tantrum at that infuriating look he kept giving her, smirking at her like he knew every single detail about her life. Well, eff him! She turned to face him, pretending to look unimpressed.

     “What would you know about that, El Araña?” She'd heard her husband ranting about him before: Miguel O'Hara, the smuggler with a network of contacts so widespread, it was as if he'd weaved an entire web across the globe. But she hadn't wanted to say anything before, when she still had hope that he might let her go. Miguel narrowed his eyes at her for the briefest of seconds - but it was all the confirmation she needed. 

     He reached out to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger, thinking. Maybe he wasn't as good at reading her as he thought. How long had she been playing dumb for? Just in the car? Or since she'd ‘unknowingly’ handed over the bank statements for Francesco's off-shore accounts? Or maybe before that, even, when she'd fallen into his arms and looked up at him with that seemingly innocent, seemingly naive expression on her face. “What do you want to know?” 

     She frowned, confused. “About what?” 

     “About me.” He didn't know why, but he felt like he could be honest with her; like he could share his life with her and not be judged for the things he'd had to do to survive. Just as she'd done.

     X narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion, not wanting to trust him. But if he was giving her the opportunity … 

     “How old are you?” Something simple. Something she probably should have asked him before she'd … before they'd … well … 

     “Twenty-nine.” Her eyes widened betraying her surprise. That young?! Well, she didn't think he'd be that much older than her - and she supposed twenty-five was also a rather young age to be married at. But to be so notorious - so infamous - before he'd even hit thirty?! The man was either a genius or insane. She considered him carefully. Or maybe a little bit of both.

     He smirked at the stunned look on X's face. He liked that she seemed impressed more than anything. Not afraid or horrified or … pitying. He didn't need anyone's pity. 

     “How old were you when you started?” X inquired.

     “My own one?” She nodded eagerly, curious now to find out more. 

     He'd been involved with gangs and cartels for almost as long as he could remember, doing his best to survive in spite of his parents. They’d always been too concerned with their own problems, constantly yelling and shouting at one another over whatever minor flaw they'd picked up on in the other. And forget about his biological father - the man had abandoned him even before he'd been born, leaving him to suffer at the hands of his mother's abusive husband instead. In the end, he'd been forced to just run away entirely, dragging his younger brother with him in the dead of night. And it was in that moment that he'd vowed to do whatever it took to survive; whatever it took to ensure that his brother never fell victim to the same fate that he had. “Twenty-three. But I still had a hard time convincing people to take a chance on me.” 

     X nodded thoughtfully as she leaned back against her seat. Twenty-three … She'd started her first job then; the one she'd worked at for a year before applying to do her PhD. And she, too, had spent that year trying to convince others to take a chance on her. She slid her gaze over to him, trying to imagine him at twenty-three, lost and desperate to please, still building up the bravado that cloaked him now. She'd have been eighteen then, when he'd been twenty-three, and sure her life hadn't been perfect, but at least she'd never had to wander the streets, always unsure when the next meal would come. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask him why he'd done it. But then she decided that she didn't want to know just yet. “Do you like it?”

     It was a strange question, one he'd never thought about before. Though no one had ever thought to ask him either: they all just assumed from his confident façade that he enjoyed having such power at his fingertips. None of them knew how difficult it was for him to fall asleep every night - how he still couldn't get used to having a proper bed beneath him, his body hardened from years spent sleeping on whatever flat surface he could find. Or how he'd get lost in his thoughts sometimes, his heart squeezing in his chest as the sounds of phantom gunshots rang through his ears. And the paranoia? Always having to assess every look, every intonation, every slight wiggle of fingers? Sometimes, he questioned if it was even worth it. “I don't know.”

     A bittersweet expression crossed X's features at his quiet admission. 

     “The greater the risk, the greater the reward.” Her voice was soft when she spoke, but still loud enough for him to catch the words. “But the higher you climb, the further you have to fall.” 

     Miguel shifted in his seat uncomfortably, hating how sombre the mood had suddenly become. “What about you? Did you like it?” 

     She blinked slowly as she digested the question, trying to pull herself out of her thoughts.

     “Of course!” She lowered her gaze quickly, embarrassed by her enthusiasm. “Of course I loved it: I wouldn't have tried to keep going otherwise.” 

     He didn't like it when she was sad, he realised suddenly. It made his stomach curdle and his blood boil with fury at whatever could have caused it. He slung his arm over the back of her seat and his voice was tender when he next spoke. “Then why'd you stop?” 

     X fidgeted with her fingers, hesitating with her response. He'd been honest with her so far, answering her questions and sharing his emotions with her - despite all his teasing. She couldn't figure out why he'd decided to trust her like that, but some part of her ached to reciprocate his authenticity, to bare her heart out to him and have someone else know, for once, the fear that threatened to rip her into pieces.

     “I didn't want to … but I guess I was selfish,” she admitted, glancing up at him nervously to see his response. “I didn't want to get hurt either.” 

     Miguel ran his fingers through her hair, overcome with the sudden urge to comfort her, to protect her. He bent over and pressed his lips against the side of her head, mumbling into her hair. “You won't get hurt, angelita. I'll make sure of it.” 

     He squeezed her thigh in promise and she knew that he meant it, for some reason. He relaxed his grip on her, then began sliding his hand up her leg as his lips drifted down her neck. X dug her fingers into the edge of her seat, her body tightening in excitement at the way he'd wrapped himself back around her. 

     “What-” She bit down on her tongue as a whimper threatened to escape her at the feeling of his teeth grazing the side of her neck. Shit, he was too good. She swallowed down her rapidly growing arousal and tried again. “What …”

     She lost her train of thought as he continued to brush his lips and tongue along her skin, his gentle licks and appreciative suckles causing her brain to go numb and her p*ssy to start leaking. 

     “Mmm, angelita.” He moved his hand to her other thigh, his fingers ghosting across her centre as he did so. “Or should I say ‘arañita’?” He grinned against her neck at the idea and slid his hand up her waist, relishing the feeling of her smooth curves beneath his palm. 

     “Will you be my arañita, cariño? Will you …” He ran his fingers up the centre of her torso, narrowly avoiding her breasts, and she shivered at the feeling. He chuckled at her reaction, delighting in the effect he continued to have on her, and trailed his fingers back down her body. “Will you be my smart little arañita? Help me expand my web?” 

     He tickled the base of her abdomen with his fingernails and her entire body seized up at the sensation. Hooooly shit! She could barely hear what he was saying, her mind so fuzzy with desire at the feeling of his hands running all over her, his low voice vibrating through her bones, his masculine scent overwhelming her senses. “Mmm, Miguel …”

     She let out a sweet little moan as her back arched off the seat, her body begging for his touch, and he moved his hand back to her waist. 

     “F*ck,” he breathed, arching her back and pulling her hips closer to his. He bent over, burying his face in the crook of her neck and groaning against her skin. “Sound so pretty when you say my name like that. Say it again, cariño, say my name.” 

     She opened her mouth to do as he said, all rational thought flying out of her brain at the desire in his voice, at the desperation in his every frenzied touch. But wait. There was something else she needed to say, something she was supposed to ask him. And then … Miguel? Miguel! Again?! She wriggled out from under grip and pulled her legs into her chest, curling up in her seat and shielding herself from him. 

     There she went again, pulling herself away from him when she clearly wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Miguel huffed in irritation as his hand fell to the seat beside him. “What now, arañita?!” 

     “What … What do you mean?” she stammered, her heart fluttering at the way his chocolate-coloured hair fell into his eyes as he glared at her. But now was not the time - she had to focus. “When you say you want me to help you ‘expand your web’?” 

     He smirked at her, fixing her with a knowing look. And after the wave of arousal that hit her at the sight had passed, her insides began clenching in horror. No. He couldn't possibly be asking her that. He … He couldn't mean for her to … to … Miguel sat back in his seat, a satisfied expression taking over his handsome features as he saw the realisation cross her face. X waved her hands around, panicked. “Why?!” 

     “Why not?” Miguel shrugged. As if it wasn't a big deal. As if it wasn’t the reason she'd lost everything, the reason she'd had to pack up and leave behind the only life she'd ever known, locked away in the countryside like she was in exile. 

     “Because!” X uncurled herself and almost jumped out of her seat in alarm. “These are …” 

     ‘These are dangerous people, Miguel,’ she wanted to say. But he was a dangerous person, too. And he probably dealt with far more dangerous people everyday. But these dangerous people had money. Lots of it. And they didn't have to hide it in offshore accounts and pretend like they couldn't afford to buy the whole damn Champs-Élysées if they wanted to. “These people work for billion dollar companies, Miguel. They can … They can ruin your life!” 

     ‘Like they ruined mine.’ She didn't have to say the words for him to hear them. He'd read that blog post - the one piece of information that had evaded Francesco's notice when he'd scoured the internet for any traces of his wife. So he knew how they'd framed her for unethical practices, then brought her to court to sue her into oblivion and ensure she'd never be able to conduct research again. It had all been a conspiracy, of course, an excuse to make sure that the big pharma companies would still be able to reap the profits off the life-prolonging drugs they used to manage cancer - but not treat it; that wouldn't be nearly as profitable. He reached across to brush her hair away from her face, his blood boiling at the thought of anyone hurting her, then he moved his hand to her chin, gripping it and pulling her towards him. His eyes fell to her mouth and he watched it part as he ran his thumb along her lush lower lip. 

     “Arañita,” he began, lifting his gaze back up to hers. His lips curled into a wicked grin. “I am a billion dollar company, cariño.”

     Ugh! She hated how cool she thought that sounded. Especially when he was looking at her the way he was, his pupils dilated with desire, his tongue running over his teeth hungrily. She swallowed hard, trying to come up with another excuse. “B-But … it won't even make you any money!” 

     He let his hand drift down her throat to her collarbone, his fingers fiddling with the buttons of her shirt when they landed on them. “I'll worry about the profits, cariño. You just tell me what you need to get started.”

     She placed a hand over his as he started trying to undo her buttons, and he huffed in annoyance at the interruption. 

     “I'd need a lab,” she told him when he looked up at her in question. “And … And people …” And a lot of money. And time - she'd need so much time. It would take years considering she'd have to build everything from the ground up, start everything from scratch. But she didn't miss the tiny thrill that shot through her at the thought of getting back to research.

     Dios, it turned him on, the spark that burned within her as her pretty little brain ran through all the possibilities. He slid a hand up her thigh and leaned closer to her, his lips just centimetres from her own. “Whatever you want, cariño.”

     She covered his mouth with her hand quickly, stopping him from kissing her again, and his eyes widened in surprise. Then he snarled at her and she dropped her hand away from his mouth. She turned away from him and brushed her hair behind her ear, biting on her lip nervously as she built up the courage to say what she wanted to. “Miguel … I don't … I don't want to be touched … by someone who would touch other people while they were with me.” 

     Her expression was apprehensive as she looked up at him, almost like she was afraid of what his response would be. But ‘with her’, those were the key words: that was the difference between having a little fun with her one time and wanting to please her over and over again - to wrap her up in his arms and lick her up and tease her with his hands and tongue until she was begging him for relief. It was why she'd given him those papers, after all - because she'd been so mad at her husband for having done the opposite; for being unfaithful to her. But f*ck, he wanted to touch her so bad - to keep touching her, again and again until she collapsed from the exhaustion. He clenched his fists and forced himself away from her, wanting to respect her boundaries. Then he sank back into his seat, suddenly exhausted. “Fine.”

Tags: @heubstr

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[buckysimp101]

Everything the Light Touches (18+)- Chapter Eighteen

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

chapter warnings: fluff, angst, violence

Series Masterlist 

Bucky’s lips were tingling. Fucking tingling from that kiss in front of his family and friends. A part of him had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss you, your last one having been only a week ago. But he hadn’t forgotten what it was like to hold you in his arms. The warmth of your body against his days ago when you’d thrown yourself into his arms, wrapped him into your embrace to thank him for getting Wanda to you in time for the wedding. 

Ever since the combination bachelor and bachelorette party, Bucky’s brain had been in a fog, one that hadn’t seemed to lift until the doors opened to reveal you in a white dress on the arm of Tony Stark, making your way down the aisle towards him. There was a part of Bucky that was so thrilled to see you, a part of him that preened at the fact that his lifelong dreams, that he’d long since deemed unattainable, had come true. But those hopes and feelings were doused with a cool bucket of guilt and regret as he remembered everything that had led the two of you to this moment. 

So he offered you a small smile, held your hand when he was supposed to and slid that ring onto your finger before pressing a kiss onto your lips, hoping they’d be able to provide all the words he couldn’t say, publicly claiming you in front of the world. You’d both walked away from the altar in a daze and it wasn’t until the photographer began gathering your friends around for pictures that either of you spoke.

“James…are you okay?” You breathed the words, almost as if you were afraid to hear the answer. And for once in his life, Bucky was completely unsure of how to respond. So he said and did the first thing that he could think of. He slid his hand to yours and intertwined your fingers before whispering. 

“I am so sorry, sweet girl.”

He heard the hitch in your breathing and dared to look at your eyes, the tears swimming there as you took in your husband and he took in his wife. 

His wife.

A dream that was made possible by everything going to absolute shit. A dream that would swiftly become a nightmare.

He raised his thumb to lightly wipe away the tears that had formed on your lashes and he thought he felt your body relax into his, if only a little bit, before he turned back around.

“Thank you, Bucky. For saving my life. I don’t believe I’ve thanked you for that yet. I’ve blamed you. Time and time again. For more years than I care to count. But I know you’re putting your life on the line to save me too and I just…needed you to know that.” 

Your words were soft but intentional and Bucky could practically feel the emotion oozing out of your words. But he couldn’t respond. Couldn’t reply. A part of Bucky that knew you well, and had always known you, kept him quiet but urged him to hold your hand and give you a comforting squeeze before the pair of you were swept up in the craziness of the wedding reception before you.

Tony was the first of the family to approach the two of you and as he approached Bucky with fire and fury blazing in his eyes he stuck out his hand, Bucky accepting, and whispered with an intensity that would put Natasha to shame, “so help me, Barnes, do not make me regret this.”

Bucky gave Tony a short nod and a swift pump of his hand as the billionaire turned to sweep you into a hug, Pepper not far behind. As more family and friends approached the two of you, it turned into a receiving line, allowing the two of you to greet your guests as they were plied with food and drink and music began to start up in the hall. Bucky’s parents gave him a tight squeeze of a hug as they whispered good tidings to the two of you, and the people just kept coming. And coming. And coming. And while the family and friends had been in the front of the line, the back of the line was full of acquaintances, both legitimate  and non, that wanted a look at the couple who would be taking Manhattan by storm. The couple that had essentially started a war.

He heard the whisperings of someone as they walked past the two of you stating, “she must be pregnant… you don’t leave someone, come back after ten years and get married immediately. She was cheating on Stinson with him, she’s got his child inside her and she’s trying not to be cast away like last week’s leftovers. When that’s all she’s good for.” 

Bucky loosed a low growl and was two seconds away from stalking after the woman who’d spoken the words when the woman behind her shushed her before hissing, “they are in love and always have been. Why are you even here if you’re so ungrateful and spewing such lies and faith,” before stomping away towards the bar. Bucky made a mental note to thank her at some point during the night. 

He felt a finger tap his wrist before realizing it was you trying to calm him down. He could tell by the look on your face you’d heard the words they had said but before he could assure you that he’d take care of you you shook your head and whispered, “it’s not worth it. They’re not worth it,” before clearing your throat and looping your arm into Bucky’s and speaking a little louder, “come, husband, let’s get a drink before we dance all night.”

Bucky swore he felt his heart float out of his chest at your statement, but he didn’t comment on it. He merely led you to the bar to get the night started. 

It wasn’t long that the music for your first dance was starting and Bucky was leading the two of you to the dance floor as the chords to Jason Mary’s “I Won’t Give Up” began playing through the venue hall. Bucky’s hand was reaching, almost tentative, but you put a stop to that as you gently took his hand into yours and moved his other to sit on your waist as you laid your head on his chest and the two of you began to sway together to the music.

Your bubble was silent for a moment as the two of you took in the closeness, the proximity, the seriousness of the events of the day. And when you removed your head from his chest to look in his eyes Bucky felt his world fall apart and click back into place. You were his life. You were always his life. And nobody could take that away from him.

In that glance it was as if a moment of silent understanding passed between the two of you. A moment that felt more serious than anything you’d done so far on this momentous day. A look that said he’d burn the world down for you. And you’d let him.

Your stomach had been rolling all night out of fear of what you and Bucky had just done. Not the action itself, but what it truly meant and what it would bring. Wanda and Natasha had seen the look in your eye and had been steadily plying you with alcohol throughout the night while Bucky made sure you had food on your stomach and offered you bites of food whenever you would take a break.

You had danced with Tony and Bucky had danced with Winnie, each dance drawing tears to everyone’s eyes. You had the chance to thank Tony for his protection and his love over the years and you made him promise to let you visit whenever you wanted. He’d sworn he’d never revoke your privileges and that he expected to see his daughter all the time. Even if you did work together daily. 

That had earned him a light hearted punch to the gut.

The night was beginning to calm down a little more and the toasts had started. Steve had given his best man speech as he relayed stories of the three of you in your childhood, stories specifically meant to bring a blush to you and your new husbands’ cheeks.

Your husband. James Buchanan Barnes was your husband. Of all the things you thought could happen when you came back to New York this hadn’t even made the list. And while the reason behind your marriage was glaringly obvious to you, you couldn’t help but bask in the feeling of warmth that wracked your body as you chanced a look at your husband.

Bucky was gorgeous, albeit a bit sweaty after dancing and charming people for the last couple hours, you could see where his hand had been run through his hair a number of times, his nervous habit. He was laughing at a story Wanda was telling, likely an embarrassing one from your college days, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. Bucky pulled his hand from your grip to clap for Wanda’s toast and raise his drink in response, leading you to do the same. The laughter in the room began to quiet down as George Barnes took hold of the microphone, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Twenty years ago, this beautiful young woman came into our lives. And I knew that day that she’d change the world. That she’d change my life. My wife’s life. My son’s. You see, having a son is great and all and while he’s definitely done some things that have been silly at times and downright foolish at others,” he spoke with a knowing look in Bucky’s direction causing chuckles to abound in the room, most of them unaware about the latent heat sparking in the elder Barnes’ gaze, before he continued, “but the one thing he did right, was love this young woman with all his heart. Y/N, Winnie and I have never been more happy than today. Never more happy than to welcome you into our family. You’ve been a Barnes far longer than just today. And I am so happy to call you my daughter. We love you, sweet girl. And we just hope you’ll keep that son of ours in line.” His words were spoken with a sincerity that brought tears to your eyes and had Bucky clearing his throat and sniffling slightly. There were easy chuckles throughout the room as everyone lifted their glasses to toast alongside George.

“To my children. May their lives be one of protection, true love, and strength.”

The tears spilled over. You drank your champagne. And the music started back up yet again. 

You watched George make his way over to where you and Bucky were sitting as he extended his hand in your direction. “Mind if I share a dance with the most beautiful woman in the room?” His eyes were twinkling under the dance floor lighting and you heard Bucky chuckled behind you as he loosened his arm from around your waist, letting you follow George to the dance floor. 

“Don’t say that too loud, Mr. Barnes. Winnie’s around here somewhere waiting for you to misstep,” you teased, causing the older man to bark out a laugh as he spun you out onto the dance floor, teasing a laugh from you as well.

“She knows as well as I that she will always be the most beautiful woman in my life. But nothing compares to a bride on her wedding day,” his voice had softened as had the look in his eyes as the two of you danced slowly on the dance floor. For a brief moment you swore you saw the welling of tears in his eyes as the reality of the day sunk in.

“I’m sorry that this was forced on you, sweetheart. But I do hope you understand that it was the only way to help.”

You nodded, ready to tell him that you understood, that it would be okay, but he continued, “I will say, I always expected that when my son married it would be to you. Just never under these circumstances. But that boy loves you,” you inhaled a sharp gasp, your eyes flaring as you took in the words that George was saying. Loves. Present tense, not past. That was intentional. But before you could even speak, again, he spoke up, “he might not admit it, he’s probably not ready to admit it. But he never stopped loving you. And if this sham of a  marriage shows him anything, I hope it shows him how wrong he was to hurt you. And how disastrous it would be to lose you forever.”

It was your turn to well up with tears and you opened and closed your mouth, the words you wanted to say evading you as George pulled you in close for a hug and to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve never been happier to have a daughter in my life.”

The tears fell. 

George’s confession sinking in your stomach like a lead weight. Your brain taking the time to really take in the words he’d spoken. The words that would swirl in your brain, your heart, your stomach, until you were ready to deal with them. 

People slowly began to filter out of the reception hall as the night came closer and closer to an end. Wanda had left not long before to go back to her hotel room and prepare to head back to California the next day. While the two of you were getting ready that morning you’d almost begged her to stay an extra day but she’d teased up and told you how much she missed her boys before promising you to spend time together while you visited with Bucky in just a few weeks.

Tony and Pepper hadn’t been far behind Wanda and now the only people left were you and Bucky, George and Winnie and Steve and Natasha as men scrambled to get cars ready.

You hadn’t planned for a fancy send off and you exited the hall with Bucky’s arm draped lightly around your shoulder as his mother babbled on about the gossip she’d heard regarding some woman who was cheating on some man and how it was ‘absolutely scandalous darling.’

“Sweet girl you looked absolutely breath taking tonight, didn’t she just take your breath away, James?” You could tell Winnie was baiting Bucky but he seemed just fine to fall into the trap as he responded with a touch of a growl.

“Absolutely stunning.”

Your breath had hitched yet again and the place where his arm touched you had your bare skin igniting in flames. 

“Yes yes Winnie dear we know she was beautiful, no star has ever shined brighter. A regular Barnes family princess,” George grumbled as exhaustion began to seep into his features. You heard Bucky huff out a laugh causing you to face him to question what was so funny.

You saw the grin playing on his lips and opened your mouth to question him, when all of a sudden that grin dropped as fast as it had appeared, his eyes widening and his mouth opening to shout.

“GET DOWN!”

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Shouts erupted around you as loud pops sounded on the street. Your knees hit the ground before you could even gather your wits and you felt the physical presence of Bucky surrounding you as the sound of loud pops and screams reverberated through your bones. As fast as everything had been, Bucky had managed to slam you to the ground and reach for his gun as the gunmen had approached from out of nowhere. And his father had done the same. He threw Winnie to the ground next to you and proceeded to shoot at the approaching men, Steve and Natasha joining in as fast as they could. You could hear their shouts. A loud scuffle of feet as people ran. And then there was the squealing of car tires followed by a brief silence, accompanied by the sound of ringing in your ears.

A silence and ringing that ended in a heart-shattering, gut-wrenching wail. 

A wail that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

The wail of a widow.

As Winnifred Barnes sobbed over the corpse of her husband. His blood covering your wedding dress and her hands.

The war had started. And it had claimed its first victim.

a/n: i am sorry. i am so, so sorry.

taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn​

@la-undercover-latina​ 

@niki-is-a-thing​

@gloriouspurpose01​

@wintasssoldier​

@crazyunsexycool​

@the-fool-who-jingled

@missvelvetsstuff​

@enchantedbarnes​

@asoftie4bucky​

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@snufflet​

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@thebunkerismyhome​

#mafia au #mafia fic #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x yn #mafia!bucky x reader #everything the light touches #buckysimp101 #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #im sorry #i am so sorry #it had to happen

[ladyveronikawrites]

Lost in the Concrete Jungle

Chapter One- Sneak Peek Bad Omens x Female reader - A galactic AU ✨See you Saturday for the full chapter✨

You wake up to your wrist comm beeping. It’s your best friend in the entire galaxy; Skylar, messaging you to wish you a happy birthday.

*BEEP BEEP*

*BEEP BEEP*

*BEEP BEEP*

_____________________

Sky: Wake up, Bitch it’s your birthday! LET’S PARTY!

Sky: WAKE

Sky: UP

SKY: Remember the plan for tonight, 2300.

___________________

“Shit,” you curse under your breath, ripping the covers off the bed and stumbling into your en suite bathroom. You look in the mirror at your reflection and inwardly groan. You rub your tired eyes and splash cold water on your face in a feeble attempt to wake yourself. It doesn’t work. You hurriedly apply makeup to your face to look presentable in front of your family.

It’s your 21st birthday and on each and every birthday your family makes a big deal about it, especially your father. You are his only child of course. His precious little princess. You aren’t so little anymore. And you don’t like being called ‘princess’.

#bad omens fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens x star wars #star wars au #bad omens au #bad omens rpf #bad omens x female reader #bad omens crossover #mafia fic #starwars #dark romance #cw: hostage #cw: interrogation #cw: minor character death #fic: Lost in the Concrete Jungle #ladyveronikawrites

[ksbbb]

for the mafia fic

!!!! You get it. 💙💙💙 also, I love this song

#answered #mafia fic #favorite mutuals #thiam

[dde719]

I have a sneak peak 👀😁

#bts fanfic #bts #smut #yoongi smut #mafia fic

[venusstorm]

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Part 1— Question Authority

Pairing: mob!Steve Rogers x mob!Reader

Summary: When the world renowned criminal Tony Stark takes you underneath his wing, you’re thrown into a world of riches, deception, and people who want to witness your demise. One of them being Steve Rogers.

Warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of blood, physical fighting

Masterlist

It was no secret that Steve Rogers was feared by most. But so were you.

Although he was a staggering six-four, you had no issue standing up to the man. Whatever bullshit he spewed out you met with even bitter-tasting words. Sometimes you're competitors, other times you're partners. Neither negating the fact that you despised Steve Rogers and all the false glory he was surrounded by.

His empire was built on deception and lies just like them all. Code of honor was thrown out of the window years ago as a new generation of gangsters took their parent's place and began to rule.

Unlike them, you did not have the privilege of stemming from a long line of wealthy individuals. There was no generational wealth that would guarantee a safe life. You didn't sit your ass on diamond-encrusted toilet seats and you sure as hell never thought you'd be sitting at a table filled with the wealthiest people on the planet.

Your position was acquired solely by chance. See, long ago before you ever met Steve Rogers, you were merely the daughter of Tony Stark's best friend.

Your father knew what Tony was involved in and yet, he still stuck by his side. He had no intentions of being involved with the darker side of Tony's life. He took no money or assistance from his friend. Your father was set on doing everything by himself and you couldn't thank him enough for it.

Although he knew everything that went on in Tony's life, he firmly believed that ignorance is bliss and that protecting you was his sole priority.

Unfortunately, he didn't protect you for long.

After your father died Tony and his wife Pepper took you under their wings. You were so much like your father...but still Tony noticed slight differences. He saw a flame that was waiting to be ignited in your mind. You were powerful, he could tell just by looking at you that your capabilities were endless.

It's why he trained you. It's why he never bothered to hide who he was because he knew that you could handle it.

And "handle" is precisely what you did.

━━━Question Authority

Tony taps his fingers on the circular table as he waits for his guests to arrive. Chaos was erupting from all sectors and everyone was long overdue for a good, old-fashioned meeting.

His movements halt from the sounds of his secretary's heels entering the room. "Sir, they're on their way up."

"Fantastic. Maybe we can finally get some shit accomplished," he grumbles.

The secretary nods in agreement before opening the door wide open. Although she hid it well, she was terrified by the thought of waiting around in a room filled with powerful beings who could snap her head instantly. Sure it was her job but these people were reckless and without a conscience. One wrong move and her life is on the line.

"Stark!" A deep voice calls out— and the first to enter the lion's den. Brock Rumlow.

"Rumlow," Tony speaks. The two men shake hands before retreating to their seats at the round table. "How's your dad?"

"Still old," Rumlow shrugs.

"Always an asshole I see," another man calls.

Rumlow turns towards the door, rebuttal already in mind because the annoying tone of Bucky Barnes was engraved into his brain. "And I see you still have a stick up your ass Barnes."

Rolling his eyes, Bucky heads for the opposite seat across from Rumlow. If he wants to talk shit he's just gonna have to do it to his face the entire night. And thus a stare-off ensues between Bucky and Rumlow until another guest arrives.

Well— two to be exact. Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova...although with how much they stick together they're basically accounted for as one.

"Stark," they nod in unison. "I see we've made it just in time to see these two fools act like children," Yelena huffs.

"Always the pleasure to entertain you sweetheart," Rumlow smirks. The sisters scowl, taking a seat as far from Rumlow as possible.

Tony watches tirelessly as Barnes and Rumlow continue to argue while Yelena and Natasha chatter away. Time was being lost and so was his patience.

"Where's Rogers," Tony sighs.

"You know how he is," Bucky snorts. "Surprised you even got the man to come down here."

And as if on cue, Steve Rogers comes waltzing into the room with a snide look on his face. See, unlike the rest who respect Tony's hierarchy, Steve Rogers is set on tearing it down. Traditionalism is worn out and having an old man control the sectors was only making everything worse for him. He wants— no needs to see Tony knocked down a few pegs...or completely.

Steve claps his hands. "What're we waiting for? Let's get started."

Tony eyes each person in the room before speaking. This meeting might just be the most important thing he’s ever done, and if anything doesn’t go according to plan then everything he’s worked for could come crumbling down.

"As you know we've been suffering some extreme losses at our borders. We've always had groups fighting against us but there's been far too many to call it a coincidence."

"Twenty of my men died during the attacks from this week alone. We hiked it up to being some unruly people but you're right. There's been far too many," Bucky states.

"My widows have been looking into it. We don't have much yet but I have room to believe that these attacks are organized and planned. You're right Barnes, this isn't a few fed-up people with a bone to pick— they have an agenda."

Tony calls his secretary over, instructing her to bring him a map of every area that they control. The sisters brought up a good point. Planned attacks indicate an agenda, and agendas, if not dealt with properly, are extremely dangerous.

He unfolds the map hurriedly, fingers tracing over their hidden locations and warehouses for distribution. "Barnes, where exactly were your men stationed during the attacks."

"Around here," he points.

Tony nods, marking the area with a red circle before moving on to Natasha and Yelena. "What were some of the places where your widows took note of attacks?"

"Here, here....and here," Natasha states. Her finger trails down from north to south, pausing to tap on a location before continuing. Tony marks every single one, and when she's done, he stands up to take a good look at what he's drawn.

"So far it looks like these attacks are solely happening near warehouses surrounded by forests. Whether that means it's easier for them to sneak by and attack, or if it indicates that our threshold is weaker in those areas, we need to bulk up on security asap."

Everyone nods in agreement...except for one.

Tony sighs. "Something tells me that this is only the tip of the iceberg and if we don't act now, we're gonna see the consequences real soon."

Steve Rogers shakes his head in disagreement, a scoff sounding around the room as he stares at Tony. "I think the problem runs a whole lot deeper than this," he shrugs.

Tony raises an eyebrow, "Go on then Rogers. Tell us what you're thinking."

"What I think is that people are noticing that who we have in charge isn't as fit as he used to be."

Everyone's eyes widen in shock. Calling out Tony Stark is a death sentence and clearly, Steve Rogers had a wish.

"Look. Maybe ‘back in your day’ people respected the boundaries but all of that shit is worthless now. Doesn't matter what land you claim, or where your men are stationed. Everything's fair game. A lawful fight is outta the question and I'm starting to think whoever's planning these attacks is well aware of that."

The poor secretary turns to face the door as Steve lets everything off his chest. Maybe if she stands still none of them will notice her presence lingering in the background. Fuck she doesn't get paid enough for this bullshit.

"Someone's testing you Stark and it seems like you've already failed."

"He's got a point...." Rumlow mutters. "Hate to say it but he does."

Tony stands up abruptly, his eyes narrowing in anger. "Listen here, Rogers. Question my tactics and see what the fuck happens. Thought your father would've taught you better than that."

Steve jeers. "My father? Yea let's talk about our fathers Stark."

"You've sat here and ruled with every single one of our parents...and despite them finally taking a step down, your tired ass is still here. But I guess that's what happens when your wife can't have kids huh? That why you're so bitter? Everything you worked for evaporating into nothing cause you can't fuck a kid into her."

Before anyone could blink, Tony's chair pushes against the wall as he hurdles toward Rogers. Punches are thrown left and right, blood splattering across the white walls as the two men unleash their anger.

Steve grips onto Tony’s neck, choking him until he’s banging against his chest to breathe. Eventually Tony slips from his grasp, knocking his feet and sending him flying to the ground. Steve drags him with him, both men wrestling to come on top.

Finally, Steve manages to get on top of Tony. Without hesitation, his fist goes flying into his face. Shouts of agony sprout from Tony as Steve continues to slam his face into the ground. Even Rumlow has to look away in disgust.

He doesn’t stop until Tony’s hand flies up in surrender. His face now dripping bright red as he tries to collect himself.

"Do you all feel the same way?" Tony grits. First, he stares up at the man towering over him. His own blood covering Steve’s fist entirely. Then he stares at the others, their hesitant faces debating if they should state their truth.

But finally one speaks. Rumlows eyes Tony’s defeated position, and suddenly everything Rogers had stated seems blatantly true. Maybe it’s time for a new order after all. “I do,” he states.

Tony nods, his eyes wandering to Barnes. “Yes,” he agrees.

Lastly, Romanoff and Belova whisper amongst themselves until they finally state their choice. "You’ve helped us with a lot of shit Stark…but maybe it’s time.”

Steve finally lets that accomplished smirk loose. He had won.

"Someone’s gotta fill your position Stark. And since there’s no heir you have no choice but to surrender to one of us." he shrugs.

This meeting was far more than discussing the chaos brewing between the sectors but was more so a chance to finally announce the news that he had been aching to say.

Steve had always been headstrong but as of recently, Tony noticed that the others were slowly questioning his rule too. It was only a matter of time before he was challenged, and he knew that tonight would be the night for everything to go down.

"There's no need for that,” Tony states flatly.

The doors to the meeting room slowly open up, a flood of light shedding across the space. Steve’s shit-eating grin immediately falls upon seeing the figure walking through.

“I’d like you all to meet my daughter.”

Silence covers the room like a blanket—everyone staring at you attempting to put together what this all meant. You look nothing like Tony, that much was obvious. But the man was too righteous to lie. But then again, his empire meant everything to him. They wouldn’t put it past him to cheat his way into keeping it.

“What kind of sick game are you playing Stark?” Rumlow spats. “You don’t have a damn daughter so who the fuck is this?” 

Steve stares down at his fist, an amused look on his face as he shakes the blood from his skin. “I’ll give it to you Stark, you sure as hell know how to put on a show.”

You eye Steve Rogers carefully. Tony had told you time and time again to watch out for him. He’s a wildcard, nothing like his father who Tony had respected greatly. And as you saw both of their beaten faces, you knew he was right to be wary. 

But the blood didn’t phase you. Tony had made sure of that within each training session where you were forced to make every single victim shed blood. And occasionally, they shed yours. 

Ignoring the shocked faces and scowls, you walk over to Tony and reach out your hand. He takes it and stands up, leaning into your ear and whispering two words. “Good Luck.” 

“Like I’ll need it,” you smirk. 

“She’s cute,” Natasha shrugs. “Where you been hiding her?”

Smiling, you turn to face the sisters. Their beauty is unmatched, proving every rumor true about how they commanded any room they inhabited. They piqued your interest the most. Although charming, you knew they were deadly. 

“Yea Stark, please explain to the class what the hell is going on here,” Bucky barks. 

“Listen, all you need to know is that Tony’s my father, whether that's by blood or not doesn’t matter. All the legal documents are in place and I am fully considered his heir.” Every word is spoken with confidence but still, Steve isn’t buying it.  

“Even if she is your kid Stark, look at her. She’s weak. You think that’s capable of taking over everything you’ve built?”

“And who do you suggest do it?” you spat. “Clearly not you…can barely control your temper. What makes you think you can control this?” You throw your hands up into the air, signaling the mansion that each of you are currently standing in. 

Steve steps up to you, his stature towering over you in a poor attempt at intimidation. Scoffing, you look up, your eyes screaming at each other with wrath. This man didn’t scare you. Hell, nobody does. Everyone, no matter how sinful, has a weakness that can turn them fragile. And lucky for you, it already seems like Steve is on the way to breaking. 

“What? You gonna hit me just like you did Tony?”

Steve scoffs. “I’d break you in an instant sweetheart.”

He saw you as pathetic— a bug that he could easily squish. You can feel his breath on your skin. Hardly an inch separates your faces. His beard grazes over your skin as he awaits your response.

Your eyes narrow. “Try me,” you mouth slowly. 

In an instant, Steve is on you. His fists, still immersed in blood, aim for your face. Quickly you dodge it, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him against your chest. You take your knee and slam it into his thigh while your arms wrap around his neck. He mumbles something incoherent but you easily caught the last phrase. “Fucking bitch.” 

He aims for your legs, pushing you farther and farther across the room until you’re against the wall. You block his punches towards your face, arms across your head in a defensive position until you're able to break free from his grasp. 

You take the opportunity to strike his face. He grunts in pain as blood begins to seep from his nose and make its way to his mouth.

“Fucking bitch,” you mock. 

Throwing him against the wall, you go blind with rage. Tony knew Steve would challenge you. It was the only way that he could force him to surrender his position. You spent weeks studying his fight patterns and eventually everything he did became predictable. Just like it is now. 

Steve’s body, once covered in Tony’s blood, is now showered with his own. And at last, he gave in. His body slumps against the wall, your body leaning on top of him as he mutters a near silent “Congratulations.”

You nod in commendation. A slight smile graces your face from the realization that everything had gone to plan. Everything belongs to you.

The both of you are still entangled together and you can no longer tell whose blood is whose. Not once breaking eye contact, you lift your hand and slide your finger across his lips, wiping off the blood from them.

He looks at you questionably as you disentangle yourself and head towards Tony’s seat as if it were your throne. 

And as you sit yourself down, Steve’s eyes gleam with a hint of admiration.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black reader #steve rogers x woc!reader #steve rogers angst #mafia fic #enemies to lovers #x reader

[idk3453]

Mafia

Chapter 8 

Angel

Hey Guys! how are you! I finally finished this chapter! y'all ain't ready for what's in store for chapter 8! We start off with your POV then we end the chapter with Elvis's POV and yes THERE IS SMUT!!!! This is my first time writing smut, so it took me a while to figure out, but don't worry, this won't be the last either ;). I want to say to those who have been sharing, commenting, or even liking my posts about my Mafia fan fic that just want to say thank you so much! you guys have no idea how much it means to me. This fanfic is my baby and I want y'all to enjoy the ride along with me. To my new followers, Welcome, and to my old followers Welcome back! If you haven't read the series not a problem! I will link them down below! But y'all I present to you Chapter 8!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

TW: Sexual content, SMUT, Violence, Death of Character, Escape, Kidnapping, Blood, Strong Language.

Synopsis: Elvis Presley, the notorious mafia leader of Memphis, Tennessee has the town on its feet. Fear, power, money, and women surround him and his Memphis mafia. But what happens when one day you stumble into his world? And he makes you fall in love with him?  

Y/N POV: 

“Run…. don't stop until your far away from Elvis…” 

Those are the words that kept running through my mind, the events that transpired are etched into my head. 

Flashback:

“Elvis, stop!” “Let him go!” said the man with dirty blonde hair. He seems to be the only one with rationale in this group. 

I watched as Elvis beat the guy, causing his face to bust out with blood. His face was all battered and bruised, and Elvis his hands were coated with thick rich red blood on his hands. 

I couldn't watch anymore, turning to my right I saw a corner and decided to go towards it and just slide down the wall. Ducking my head in between my knees and drowning out the pleas and screams for Elvis to stop. 

“Sonny, take y/n to E’s room now!” said the man with the dirty blonde hair. 

“You got in Jerry,” said Sonny

 My right arm was grabbed, and I was soon taken back to Elvis’s room. 

“Easy, y/n, Easy.” said Sonny

As soon as Sonny stepped foot into Elvis’s room, I ran toward his bed and began to sob. 

Thinking about what I just witnessed.

“Hey, Hey don't cry,” sonny said as he came closer to me. 

“How can you say that when I just witnessed an attempted murder?!” I said as tears kept flowing down my cheeks.

Sighing Sonny grabs the back of his neck and rubs it, “Look, I know what you saw was bad, but it wasn't attempted murder or anything it was just Elvis and his temper, getting the best of him so he resorts to violence, but that's not bad.”

I turned to look at Sonny, thinking how stupid can he be to tell me that this was normal. There was nothing normal about what I just witnessed. For Elvis to lunge at this poor man for making a stupid comment like that, for Elvis to beat him senseless, what normality was there in this situation? 

“Sonny, I know what I saw” irritated now I looked at the TV Screen playing. 

News Reporter: “John, It has now been 2 days since this y/f/n has seen their beloved daughter. We are standing outside their home, as the parents along with her best friend have a few words they would like to say.” 

Y/BF/N: “please, if anybody has seen my best friend, please give her back to us, we miss her” 

Y/F/N: “To whoever the bastard was who took my angel away from me, I just… want to say… please don't hurt her.” Honey, Angel, If you are watching this, don't worry help is on the way, we are looking for you, and we just want you home safe.” 

Y/M/N: “Please, If anybody knows anything about my baby, this is what she looks like, please bring her back to me, I just want her back!”

“A heartbreaking scene, John more on this story tonight at 5”

Tears spilled as I watched my family and best friend appear on the news. Feeling so helpless and just defenseless. There's nothing I can do. 

Sonny notices my whimpering and sniffles “Hey, y/n, don't cry”

“y/n, I have a plan, it's an escape plan” “I am going to page my cousin Red, he still is a part of the Mafia, Imma tell him about our plan and have him meet you somewhere so that he can take you back home.”

Sonny said as he comes face to face with me. “God, I can see why Red is so infatuated with you,” Sonny whispers.

Sniffling I stand and fling myself to Sonny. 

Hugging him saying “Thank you”

Sonny hugs back and says “No problem, alright so here’s the plan…”

Flashback ends.

So now, here I am running and running towards the spot Red is supposed to meet me. 

I stopped to catch my breath, but also the adrenaline has worn off. My legs fall and I land on the branches and leaves-filled floor.  

“Maybe, If I just rest for a second, I can regain some energy, and continue running,” I said breathing heavily. 

My eyes slowly closed on me, that is until I hear a rustle, from my right, my breathing hitched, I slowly covered my mouth and crawled towards the nearest tree. A single light is illuminated, and I begin to choke back tears, “God, if you hear me, although I don't pray, please don't let them find me.” 

“y/n?its me Red, y/n?” 

Red!! 

“RED!!!” I yelled out. 

I ran towards Red, “man am I kinda glad to see you.” I said

Smirking “I'm glad to find you y/n” you ran 5 miles from Graceland” 

“Don't remind me, let's get out of here.” laughing I tell Red.

Walking past Red, I make my way to his car “finally freedom,” I sigh 

“Actually…. I have a better Idea” Red says.

 Grabbing my arm, he pins me to the front of the car. Making a loud thud, wincing at the impact on my lower back. 

“Red, what are you doing?!” we have to get out of here!” I tried to wiggle out of his grasp. 

Chuckling sinisterly, Red looks at you with lust-filled eyes. He slowly kisses your neck, one hand now grasping both my wrists, the other trying to touch my thighs. 

“RED!” I yelled, he was supposed to take me home that was the deal. Why is he pulling a stunt like this I don't know.

“GET OFF OF ME” I yelled again. But there's no use. I’m trapped. 

Closing my eyes for what is to come, I hear a click of a gun. 

“Let her go”

I opened my eyes, seeing my hero in front of me. His silhouette was illuminated by the car beams. 

Red turns around, having me in a chokehold now. 

I'm struggling to break free but the tighter his grip gets. I started to lose air, his grip kept getting tighter and tighter the more I struggled to break free. 

“Well, Well look who we have here,” Red said taunting the man in front of me. 

“If it isn't our own notorious Memphis gang leader, in the flesh, Mr. Elvis Presley.” “What a matter E, surprised to see me with your girl.” 

“Red your hurting me, *gasp* I can't breathe.” I struggled to say. 

Suddenly I feel the cold sharp metal of a blade making its way toward my neck. 

“Shut up, Bitch!.” Red said digging the blade deeper. 

“ Son of a bitch, if you so goddamn hurt her I will….” said Elvis getting ready to shoot at any moment. 

“Or what Elvis, you shoot me, she gets hurt. Face it, you lose,” said Red

Tears fall down my face, looking at Elvis, begging for him to save me. At this moment I just want to live, even if it means being saved by Elvis Presley. 

“ Alright Red, you win,” Elvis said as he slowly dropped his gun, making sure not to break eye contact with the floor and the gun.  

“Good, now y/n,” he said turning to me and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Let's get going now, baby.” struggling to break free now, I was thrashing every which way. When I saw I was getting closer to the passenger door, I bit Red's hand. 

“Ahhh!!!” Red said as he lets me go. This was my moment to run, I dashed out of Red's reach and ran towards Elvis. 

“Get back here!” Yelled Red, getting ready to use his blade on me, that was until Elvis grabbed his gun and shoots Red three times. Bullets flew past me, and I didn't look back. With a loud thud, Red was down. Blood seeped through his clothes and formed a puddle on the ground. 

“y/n!” Elvis said with open arms. I made it to his arms and began to cry, I couldn't help it, everything that transpired was overwhelming. 

“Shh, shh it's okay little one your safe now.” cooed Elvis.

Then out of nowhere, Elvis groans and falls to the ground, “Elvis? Elvis?!” Blood was pouring out of him. “Where did that bullet come from” - I said 

“No, no Elvis please!” I cried, choking on tears. 

“Elvis, you alright, we heard gunshots, and Oh my god,” said Jerry, 

Chuckling, Elvis gasps out and says “Great timing boys.” 

“Boys, hurry Elvis is hurt we have to get him to the nurse and fast!”

“Please do something!” I said, crying at the sight of the man who saved me. 

“y/n, come on let's go,” said Jerry, 

“Will Elvis be alright?” I said in a low voice, 

Jerry turns and looks at me with a sympathetic look, saying “He will.” 

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Hours passed and we all went back to Graceland. I was waiting along with Jerry on Elvis. 

“Damn what's taking the nurse so long,” said Jerry pulling at his hair. 

From the hours that passed, I learned a few things about Elvis along with Jerry. Jerry was Elvis's close friend and confidant. He was second in command, which means whatever Elvis couldn't get to do or say Jerry was ready to go. Elvis lost his mother when he was just 23, which made him get into the gang business. His father left, leaving him all alone. To fend for himself. Years later he branched out, thus creating the Memphis Mafia. Jerry has been by his side since Elvis was 25. 

“Wow, I can't imagine what that must have been for him,” I said, I couldn't help but feel terrible, for the life he lived. If maybe things would have been different, he wouldn't have had to be in this life. 

Taking a sip of his coffee, Jerry breathe out and said “Yeah, his life hasn't been the best, but he means well y/n” “He's housed all of us for years, without him we would be nothing.” “He's saved me countless times and that's where my loyalty lies with him.”  

“Maybe, he's not so bad after all,” I said shaking my head.

“Yeah, when you have some time y/n, Id love to share more with you about Elvis, that way you understand where he's coming from.”

Giggling I said “Id like that Jerry.” 

Just then, the nurse was heading our direction, my heart thumping so fast, and hard, waiting to hear what the results were. 

“Nurse! Tell us what happens to Elvis. Is he gonna pull through?” said Jerry, 

“Yes Jerry, Elvis is gonna make a full recovery, he’s right now resting.” Said the nurse smiling. 

“Oh thank god!” I breathed out, feeling a sense of ease and worry slip away.

“You must be y/n, pleasure to meet you, I'm nurse Jackie.” She said extending her hand to me.

Hesitating I look at Jerry and he gives me a warm smile, mouthing out to me “She’s trustworthy”

Turning back to Nurse Jackie, I said “pleasures all mine, Nurse, thank you for saving Elvis’s life” 

Shaking her hand.

Nurse Jackie smiles and says “don't worry about it hun, not the first time I saved this man's life, from some crazy accident or situation.”

Laughing at her statement, I felt at ease. 

“Well, I better get going, it was nice meeting you y/n, I'll see you soon,” Nurse Jackie said. 

 “Ohh, I almost forgot, here y/n” Nurse Jackie handed me some medications in a bottle. 

“What's this nurse?” 

“Those are Elvis's medications, those will help him with the pain. He just needs to take those every 6 hours, which is only an hour away, so you should be fine til then.”

“Will we be able to see Elvis today?” I asked the nurse in a hopeful voice. I don’t know where the care and love came from, especially towards Elvis Presley, but I can’t help but feel something. 

“You like him,” My inner voice said. “He saved your life.” there it is again my inner voice rambling about why I'm feeling such things. I shake that feeling off me as I wait for my answer. 

“At the moment no, but once he's awake I can have Jerry bring him to his room,”  said Jackie. 

Turning towards Jerry he gave me a sympathetic look and I breathed out saying ok, I'll head towards his room then.

“I'll see you later, Jerry. And thank you again Jackie” with that I head upstairs, making my way toward the familiar setting, and lay on Elvis’s bed, soon after sleep consumed me and for once I welcome darkness's sweet embrace. 

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Elvis POV: 

“Do, you Elvis take y/n to be your wife.”  I turn towards my blushing bride and say “I do” 

“And do you y/n, take Elvis to be your husband, through sickness and in health til death do you part? “She turns to me but as she was about to say those words. I saw her gown turn red. 

“Baby, what's happening?!” 

“Jerry!” “Where the hell is everybody?!” 

“Y/n baby stays with me please, please don't leave me, please.” 

“Well, Well what do we have here….”

“Y/N!” I wake up from the nightmarish dream. 

Beep…Beep…Beep…

“Where the hell am I” 

Pain shoots from my abdomen, and head as I slowly recall the events that transpired.

“Y/N!” “Baby where are you?” 

“Relax E, take it easy”

Turning towards my left I saw Jerry standing towards the door. 

“Jerry, boy am I glad to see you! Why am I here in our private medical room.” Why do I have all these needles on me, Where is Y/N?”

I said trying to sit up, groaning as the pain becomes too unbearable. 

“E, y/n is upstairs in your room, she's okay” 

Sighing in relief. “She's okay,” my inner voice said. 

“Well, what are we waiting for then take me to her, Jer!”

“Elvis we gotta talk about what happened just now, we could have lost you back there” 

Jerry said as tears began to brim in the corner of his eyes. 

“What happened, back there all I remember was y/n towards me and someone shooting towards me.” 

“We arrived late at that scene E, but from what I recalled, Red was dying and someone shot you, after that, we don't know what happened.” 

“You think it could have been our enemies?” I said, “who could have shot me”

“I don't know E, that's what I'm trying to piece together,” said Jerry. 

 Nurse Jackie says that you'll make a fast recovery but it's bed rest for a week, or two. 

“TWO WEEKS!!! HELL NO!!!” I protested. 

“I know E, but I'll tell ya that girl of yours is a brave one”

“What about her Jer?” I asked cautiously hearing what Jerry had to say. 

“While you were here, she never left your side. We were staying outside and she did not once escape or even tried to. She stayed quiet, she even asked if we can both see you, but the nurse suggested for she heads upstairs.” 

Cracking a small smile, I turn to Jerry and said: “ She did, did she now, you think she's warming up to me Jer?” 

Laughing Jerry said, “I can only hope so E.” 

As our laughter started to die down a little, I asked Jerry if he can take me to my room. 

“Alight E, let's go” 

And with that Jerry lifts me from my bed and takes me back to my room. 

“Jer, there's one more thing I want you to do for me, can you call Lamar to me? I wanna talk to him.” 

“You sure you won't try to hurt him?” said Jerry 

Chucking I said, “no Jer, I want to apologize for my actions.”

“Alright E, I'll call him down” and with that Jerry pages, Lamar and Lamar come speeding fast. 

Stuttering Lamar says “Yeeesss Boooosss” 

“Lamar comes closer, I promise I won't hurt you.” 

Lamar cautiously approaches me, couldn't blame him though, I did beat the shit out of him. 

“Elvis?” Lamar says as he sees me opening my arms, he flinches 

I embraced Lamar, in a hug and said “I'm sorry, Lamar, didn't mean for it to go that far”

Lamar tenses but soon releases it after a few seconds. 

Patting my back gently he says “It's alright E, no harsh feelings, I'm glad you're okay tho.”

Nodding my head, I tell Lamar that I'll be resting, in my room for a bit. And then once I'm better we get back to taking care of business. 

Chuckling Lamar says “you got it E, rest assured.”

And with that Lamar leaves and Jerry takes me to my room.

“I got it from here Jerry, you go on a rest its been a long day.” 

“You sure, Elvis I don't mind taking you…” 

“It's alright Jer” 

“Alright, E I’ll see you later then” 

“Thanks, Jerry, I'll see you later.”

Jerry turns around and heads straight to his room, leaving me alone with my black double doors. I slowly turn the door nob and peek inside. Seeing y/n sleeping on her side of the bed. 

“She hadn't changed her clothes?” 

“She doesn't have any,” my inner voice said, which reminds me to make a mental note to get her some things. 

Slowly making my way towards her, I sit down on the bed, brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ears. 

y/n groaning, and opens her eyes slowly, leaning towards my touch. 

“Didn't mean to wake you little, I'm going to head to the shower, and get these garments off me, there are some extra shirts on this dresser, If you want to change too.”

y/n nods slowly as I get up, she grabs my arm and says “stay, please.” 

Turning towards her slender, body I sat down on the bed again. 

“Okay, little I will.”

I slowly make my way toward my side of the bed, y/n gets up and helps me lay myself down. 

“Easy, Elvis, easy,” she says in a hushed tone. What surprises me the most was the fact once I lay down, she places her head on my chest and cuddled towards me. 

“Elvis?” she says, looking up at me, 

“Yes, little one,” I said looking down at her, our eyes locking, her y/e/c and my blue orbs becoming one, I slowly leaned in some more as did she. 

We were centimeters apart but close enough to feel each other's breaths. 

Her lips brushed mine and we began our entanglement. It was a soft but passionate kiss. Nothing like I ever experienced before. 

Groaning into the kiss, y/n stopped kissing and proceeded to kiss my neck, slowly trailing down my chest. 

“Little, what are you doing?” I breathe out. The feeling of her kisses sent a shock wave to my body. 

“Shhhh, I want you to relax and enjoy it.” She says as she continues to trail further down. 

Using whatever strength I had left in my body, I got up and pulled her closer to me. 

“I don't want you to be doing something out of force now, I want this just as much as anybody else, but I am willing to wait if I have to,” I said.

y/n looked up at me, smiled, and pecks me on the lips saying, “ I want to, Elvis.” 

We kiss one more time, while she slowly undoes the buttons on her shirt, dried blood still on it from the events earlier. She throws it somewhere and I am revealed in all her glory, all she had on was lace white panties and no bra. 

“You look beautiful, baby,” I said.

Groaning as the pain from my injury begins to take full effect on me again. 

“Shit,” I said. “Elvis, something wrong?” y/n said worriedly thinking that maybe she may have hurt him in some way or form. 

“Little, I'm alright, I just have a minor injury here.” “We just gotta be extra careful to not open the wound up.”

She looks up at me and begins to gently touch my world with her delicate fingers. 

“Baby, look at me. I want you to lay down for me. I wanna show you want exactly you do to me.”

She complies with my orders, her eyes are no longer her usual hue, they are darker filled with curiosity and lust. 

“That's it, baby, just relax okay.”

y/n lays down on my bead and I began, kissing her lips once more, I hover over her and break our kiss. I make my way toward her neck, gently pecking until I hear her moan. “Gotcha” I smirked. I took extra time on that side, seeing as it was her sweet spot. 

“Elvis”, she moaned out. 

“Shhh, just relax and enjoy baby,” I said noticing my breath causing her body to shiver. 

My hands were exploring her body, her curves, her lines, and my lips kept going lower and lower towards her panties. 

“You ready little,” I said, grabbing the hem of her panties, 

Nodding she eagerly awaits what I am about to do. 

“No little, I need to hear you say it, are you ready,” I said again making sure my voice was sharp and lowered. 

“Yes,” she says, her excitement getting the best of her. 

“Good” I placed a kiss on her stomach and began to pull her panties off her legs 

I kiss her inner thighs, making sure to bit and nip leaving my mark on them. 

“Mine,” I said as I continued to kiss and mark her thighs. 

“Elvis, mmmm, don't tease.” Y/N moans out. 

I moan onto her inner thigh, “Baby, you sound so divine moaning out my name like that.” “Keep doing it.” 

I continued to make my way toward her core, I paused making sure I was making eye contact with her, “eyes on me little, one. I want to see your reaction when I do this.” With that, I pursed my lips a blew air onto her core. 

y/n shivered and silently moaned. She kept moving trying to get my face to connect with her core. I licked my lips and made my way to her aching core. 

Throwing her head back, and arching her back in the process. I kept licking and sucking her core. Feeling as her nectar drips down my chin. I moaned out, loving this feeling of control I have over her. No one can make her feel this good but me. 

“Elvis, mmmm, Elvisss ahh” she screamed, bucking her hips, y/n reaches for my hair and brings me in closer. I placed my hand on her stomach to keep her from moving, I want her to stay in place and enjoy every minute of this, just as much as I am. 

“Elvis, mmm I'm... I'm gonna… cum..” y/n breathed out, removing myself from her core, slick trailed from her core to my lips. Licking them off me, I stood up and told her “Not yet little” 

“What! Elvis, I wanna, Oh my god” she moans out as I decided to draw circles on her bud. Making sure my pace was slower. 

“Elvis, oh god!” she cried out “Elvis, please faster,” 

Instead of going faster, I added a finger inside her, going in and out while also stroking her bud. 

“Fuck! Elvis, yes... Just.. like that..” y/n head has now succumbed to the pillow and her hands using the sheets to claw at them. 

“Baby, you want to cum?” I teased. Making sure to create a lasting effect on her. 

“Are you gonna cum for daddy?” I teased. Smirking as I saw her facial expressions each time adding pressure. 

She nods, which wasn't the response I was looking for, so I went in adding a second finger to her dripping core. 

“Ahhhhh!” she moaned, “now, little we went over this, I want you to speak.” “ You that pretty little mouth of yours for me,” I said. 

 “Now, I'm gonna ask again” this time going in and out a little faster and using my thumb to create circles on her bud some more. “Do you wanna cum for daddy?” I said.

“Yes! Yes daddy, please let me cum!” she moans. 

Smirking I say “Cum for daddy baby” 

And with that y/n lets out a moan and her euphoria drips out of her. Leaving her in a state of relaxation and want. 

As her slick drips out of her and onto my hands, I removed my fingers and licked them. 

“Mmmm, you taste like honey,” I said as I continued to lick my fingers. 

y/n blushed, a bright red. “That, that was….” she breathed out. 

“Use your words little or do you want me to give you another round.”  Smirking I said, as I slowly made my way back to my side of the bed.

My pants felt tighter than before, my cock twitching for it to be released. For it to be buried inside. I try my best to fix the situation but to my dismay, it was no use. 

y/n turns to me and sees what is currently going on. “Elvis” she breathes out. “Yes, little one,” I said, my eyes not leaving her gaze. 

She gets up from her side and gently straddles me. “Little what are you doing?” I said as I was about to get up, but the pain from my injury shoots up instead, having me to get back down. y/n notices and puts her hand on my chest, drawing circles. Her hand makes it's way lower and lower to my belt. 

She swiftly undoes my belt loops and removed them. She then unhooks my button and unzips my pants leaving me in my briefs. 

“Little what are you doing?” I asked again to which she replies “ Shhhh” she grinds her hips onto my aching cock, having me throw my head back groaning. “You pleased me, I want to please you tonight.” She said and she continues to grind her hips onto my cock. 

Grabbing her hips I stopped her and looked her in the eyes and said, “are you sure? We don't have to do this now?” she silences me with a kiss and says “I want to” 

Y/n proceeded by removing my briefs causing my hard-on to spring and hit my stomach. Her eyes widened with shock and amusement. “How are you big” she whispered, “Well when I was younger, let's just say my nickname wasn't coke bottle for nothing. But that's a story for a later time.” I said chuckling.    

She looks down, and gently grabs hold of my cock, groaning at the sudden contact. “y/n” I moaned out. She begins to move her hand up and down, creating the friction it so desperately pleaded.

“y/n, please go faster.” I groaned, gripping the sheets. She complied and went faster at a pace I have, never experienced before. 

“Fuck, baby your so good, ugh!” I groaned. Bucking my hips into obtaining more friction. 

Pre-cum started to ooze out of me as y/n used her thumb to glide some of it all over the tip. 

“Baby, mmmm” I moaned out loud. She then stops out of nowhere. 

Breathing heavily wondering why she stopped. I saw that she grabs my cock once more and slowly places it where her hole is, sliding down gently til she reached fullness. 

“Fuck!” we both moaned. 

y/n once in a comfortable position began to ride me. Slowly building momentum as she grinds her hips back and forth adding a little bounce to the mix. I gently grab onto her hips to steady her pacing. 

“y/n, baby” I moaned feeling her tight core. “Elvis, oh god, Elvis” she moans throwing her head back in the process. y/n proceeds to speed up the pace and her walls begin to hit my cock, in and out, in and out. 

I bucked my hips adding more pleasure, causing both of us to moan out. “Elvis” y/n says mouth wide open, grabbing onto my chest. Digging her nails. “I'm so close” 

That was my cue, I gently turned us around letting me be on top, and began to pump myself in and out of her. Hitting her g-spot each time. We both moaned, sweat dripping from my forehead. Groaning at the mix of pleasure and pain, I “stupid injury” I thought. But I was gonna push away the pain for later. 

I brought y/n legs over my shoulders, deeping each thrust. “Elvis!” “Harder!” she cries out. 

I pumped harder until I felt I was about to burst. “Elvis… I'm gonna… cum” she breathes out, arching her back in the process. 

Kissing her lips, I pulled out, both of us coming together from our highs.

Just as soon as I saw, y/n relax, I rolled back onto my side of the bed, breathing heavily. 

Turning my head I saw y/n breathing heavily along with feeling the sense of tiredness consume her. 

Slowly getting up, I grab some towels, for us to clean ourselves up. One clean, I laid back down, on the bed, looking at my injury and seeing my gauze begin to seep some blood. 

“I may have overdone it.” Chuckling to myself. y/n turns to me and notices my gauze bleeding. 

“Oh, my Elvis your bleeding again,” She said in a state of panic. 

Kissing her forehead I tell her, not to worry. “Before I forget Elvis, Nurse Jackie gave me some of your medicine. If you like you can take one that way in the morning, you won't be in so much pain.” 

Turning towards y/n, I looked at her and said, “ nurse Jackie gave you some medicine, now why didn't you tell me sooner, little” grabbing her sides to bring her in closer to me. y/n yelps and giggles saying “I must have gotten a little carried away.” 

“ you know where the medicine is now?” 

“Yes, it's inside that drawer.”

Turning towards where she was pointing, I made my way towards the drawer and grabbed my bottle prescribed to Elvis Presley. The directions say Take every 6 hours to avoid any further injury and to help with the healing process. 

Opening the bottle I grab one pill and grab a glass of water. Chucking the water along with the drug. Placing the glass cup down, I saw y/n already falling asleep. Smiling at the sight I made my way towards her, grabbing onto our stained sheets, I wrapped her body along with mine, bringing her in closer. 

Kissing her forehead I said, “goodnight, little I love you.” with that the effects of the drug kicked in and I slowly enter into slumber wishing for y/n to repeat those same words to me someday. 

Wowwww!! What do we think about this monster of a chapter? That was a wild ride!

Thank you to my loves @erutluve and @plasticfantasticl0ver

Also want to say thank you to @gracie-lynn123 for commenting on my latest post! your message was very sweet! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

I can't wait for y'all to read chapter 9! Stay tuned for another exciting chapter.

#elvis 2022 #elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvis presley #elvis x y/n #mafia romance #elvis x you #elvisaaronpresley #elvis fans #elvis fic #elvis smut #elvis presely smut #red west #jerry schilling #memphis mafia #mafia fic #elvis aaron presley #elvis x reader smut #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you

[chaoticpuff17]

masterlist

part one part two part three Part four Part five

Part six Part seven Part eight Part nine

Part ten  part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16

#bts fic #yandere au #yandere yoongi #yandere suga #yandere agust d #mafia au #mafia fic #mafia bts #yandere bts #yoongi x oc #suga x oc #agust d x oc #mafia yoongi #mafia suga #mafia agust d #yandere #amygdala #dark romance

[roaaz]

Description

ℍ𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕒 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕡 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕪

:𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 ?

: 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 ... 𝐈 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

: 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐨... 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

: 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞

𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 .... 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤 𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 ... ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕕𝕪 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕞𝕒𝕡 ... 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕞. 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕

: 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕨 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣 .. 𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕒𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕒 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 ... ℍ𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕣

: 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ... 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩

ℍ𝕖 𝕘𝕠 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙𝟝 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕗𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕪

𝕋𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕖..

𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕥🤍

#mafia imagines #mafia fic #mafiaromance #mafia x reader

[amaiguri]

Amai's Fantasy Noble Houses

^^ The Courthouse of Nouveau Thuille

So yesterday, I went on a big info dump about Nouveau Thuille itself, but its most important aspect is its people -- the Noble Houses of Nouveau Thuille. Factions are one of my FAVORITE PARTS of worldbuilding, so please indulge me as I gush about how COOL all my Houses are <3 <3 ,3

**House d'Magnia**

^^ The Manor d'Magnia

House d'Magnia is Arlasaire's House, my protagonist! Well, kinda. See, House d'Magnia sigil is a winged serpent and its words are "Eshew Axiom for Ascendancy" which basically means "We break the law to win." They are known for being the most brutal and underhanded in their tactics -- Giluniques, the heir, had his eye cut out as a baby with the hopes that he would become a mage. (He did.) And one of the House's favorite things to do is take in society's undesirables and turned them into hitmen. Arlasaire was one such person -- she was effectively Gil's human pet, growing up. He got to teach her to read and write and murder people and stuff. His father probably did this because Gil's mom died in childbirth with his stillborn sister and Arlasaire was a burned orphan child whose village was destroyed in a Dragonstorm. Who was going to say "No"? It wasn't a great environment for her, despite her pride in her upbringing. It really messed with her head. House d'Magnia is known for its Ysse engineering -- though Arlasaire never took to the House's art

**House d'Aramitz**

Ah, the good ole House d'Aramitz! This grand old House has controlled the military since House d'Solais ruled a united North. Their sigil (or maybe they're coats-of-arms?) is a gold sword with two shields on each side. They also are in charge of military production and were probably some of the earliest adopters of the assembly line. They value tradition and typically, their members most staunchly believe in the notion that they are keeping order and fulfilling the will of the long dead Emperor.

As of the start of my World Letters, House d'Aramitz is led by Silvestre and he has two or three sons (idk, doesn't matter) -- the eldest of whom is a sweet gay guy named Cleiv who really wishes his dad would stop trying to make him get married.

Oh, and I think their art isssssssss Martial Arts? Or maybe textilesssss? Idk, I'll roll with it now lol

**House d'Fealtoire**

House d'Fealtoire is currently being run by a young woman and her sisters are all women, but gender isn't the reason it's sometimes called "The House of Wh*res" -- that's because the House's ongoing political strategy is just to suck up to whoever is in power and keep them there. They're considered to be charming but duplicitous -- but hey! It's working! They're extremely rich and they typically end up funding the plots of the other Houses and their many, numerous smaller houses. Their sigil is a bowl of blooming Tobacco violets with vines dripping out on either side.

Lucienne d'Fealtoire is currently running the House, with her two younger sisters, Celia and Derecina. Luce has a sorted history with House d'Magnia -- she was engaged to Gil as a child and they grew up quite fond of each other. But then, her dad tried to poison every other noble at Court. Arlasaire dropped a chandelier on him to stop him. Lucienne and Gil's engagement was technically cut off at that point... except when his dad died of a heart attack a few years later, they promptly picked up where they left off. And you can imagine the kind of relationship two ambitious, horny teens have...

Anyway, House d'Fealtoire is full of musicians and dancers. Performance arts. Unfortunately, over the 5 years since I started Yssaia, I didn't always remember this and I did this whole portrait of Lucienne painting Arlasaire (below). Not that there's anything WRONG with her being multitalented, but she should definitely be an excellent actress and dancer. It just WORKS with her characterization.

**House d'Romanach**

House d'Romanach is a fan favorite because they're the House of the People. They're only three generations old, run by Lady Isaurala d'Romanach, and they're basically a factory and farmer's union that became a noble house. Isaurala's #1 priority is the well-being of the people -- but this puts her diametrically opposed to many of the Houses in the war, who are interested in fighting for independence and sovereignty, where she would rather just surrender to the seemingly less-corrupt South. Of course, she also knows when elections come, she'll keep her power and privilege, even when the others don't, so like... you know... Their sigil is a hammer and anvil, and their artform is painting.

**House d'Solais** (Gone)

House d'Solais -- or actually, just House Solais because grammar worked differently 400 years ago -- died when Riavh d'Solais, the Once and Future Emperor, the Sun King, etc. etc. died in a civil war with his son. Under the justness of his rule (and very nice, Dragon-summoning sword and amazing propaganda machine and a wife who could see all the possibilities of the future to pick the best one), Riavh united the North 400 years ago. He rose to power at age 14, when he pulled a sword out of an anvil at the back of the last king's Trialhall. He married a fairy for his wife. And his champion was the strongest and most charming fighter in all the land. But the world was not ready for a man so pure and kind. And so, he was killed by his own, wicked son in a revolt. (It was definitely the son's fault. Definitely. And Riavh was definitely not a depressed, young father with incredible military advisors who could only unite a culturally diverse North for barely a generation under the threat of force.) Their sigil is a radiant sun-shaped crown. Riavh did not leave behind a Trialhall for a next Emperor -- instead, he is allegedly sleeping until such a time arises that he can rise again and bring about a world without war. And the Noble Houses hold his crown until this inevitable return.

Which House do you think you'd work for?

#noble houses #mafia #mafia fic #fantasy #fantasy world #worldbuilding #writing #writeblr #fantasy worldbuilding #writerslife #fantasy writer #fantasy writing #I think I'd be House d'Fealtoire #In multiplayer games #I always piss people off because I just suck up to the current winner #This is called Kingmaking #It's usually a sign your game isn't fun the whole way through #“I can't win so I'm picking the winner” lol #Yssaia #Amaiguri

[guilty-pleasures21]

Maybe this will just be my trash one.

1. Um ... yeah ...

Part 1 - the beginning

Part 2 - the car

Part 3 - the detectives

Part 4 - the contract

Part 5 - the clothes

Warnings: none.

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

He took in a deep breath, then pulled the trigger. He set his gun down once the smoke had dissipated and found that he'd hit every target he'd been aiming for. Miles allowed himself a little smile, but the satisfaction still wasn't enough to ease the disappointment at the lack of progress they'd made on their case. He sighed and removed his ear mufflers before unloading his gun.

     “Good to see you could still gold your own on the field,” a familiar voice teased him from behind. Miles startled at the sudden interruption, almost dropping his gun. Then he turned around to find his partner - Gwen Stacy - flashing him a smirk. Damn, how was she so pretty? Even after she'd had to shave half of her hair off thanks to a little accident on the last mission they'd been on. 

     “Oh! Hey, Gwen!” Miles exclaimed a little too loudly. He gave an awkward chuckle, then began heading towards the exit, keeping pace with Gwen as she followed beside him. It had been a year - a whole year - that they'd been working together and he still hadn't found the courage to ask her out yet! Ugh! He was such a loser - which was probably why she'd never go out with him anyway. “What's up?” 

     Gwen didn't respond immediately, allowing for a dramatic pause in which she could shoot him an excited grin, the look on her face causing Miles's stomach to flip over. Then she stopped him. “We've got a new lead.” 

     Miles froze, unsure if he'd heard right. A new lead? After months and months of chasing down the same old tired possibilities?! “What?” 

     Gwen's lips stretched wider at the incredulous look on his face - a new lead! They hadn't had a new lead in months! And it wasn't just some anonymous caller giving a tip they'd never be able to follow, it was a genuine, authentic, reliable lead! “Suit up, rookie: we're going to Italy.” 

     X got out of the car, pausing for a moment to assess her new living situation. The house was almost as big as Francesco's, but nothing like his cheery, generationally-preserved yellow brick exterior. Instead, Miguel had opted for something more open - the front of the house was all thick, grey concrete, but the sides and back were covered in floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing for an unobstructed view of the colourful gardens and swimming pool. X decided that she liked Miguel's tastes a lot more than Francesco's. She turned to him as he came around to her side and just managed to make out a few words of the conversation he was having on his phone in Spanish. Something about not worrying and how is work and yes, everything is fine, I promise I'm okay. Miguel placed a hand on her lower back and guided her towards his house, waving around and gesturing for her to explore once they'd stepped in. Then he disappeared into a hallway in one corner of the house, leaving her on her own.

     Partners, business partners: in one day, she'd gone from helping a stranger find evidence of her husband's criminal activities, to having sex with him, and then agreeing to enter a partnership with him. Maybe she was the insane one. X crept around the house, admiring the open-plan concept that allowed for a wide and airy space. The house was only one floor, but in addition to the swimming pool, there was also a gym. And a garage with three different cars, all sleek and shiny and very, very expensive. X headed back into the house, tiptoeing over to the same hallway Miguel had disappeared into, and found herself face to face with three different doors. One of them was closed, so she assumed it was Miguel's study. The one beside that, however, right at the end of the hallway, allowed for enough of a glimpse to tell that it was his bedroom. X peeked around the doorway and was surprised to find that the room was even bigger than the one she'd shared with Francesco back at … back his place. And it was all chrome and dark tones, exactly what she'd have expected of a rich and handsome bachelor's bedroom. She turned to the door opposite the study and pushed it wider so she could take a look inside. 

     This one had to be her room - it was the only one left, after all, a neatly made bed and empty desk the only things furnishing the room besides the polished wood closet. She set her bag down on the bed, then went over to the closet to see if she could find a locked drawer to store her passport in. Or maybe she should just give it to Miguel - he probably had a high-tech safe somewhere he could store it for her. But what if he wasn't around? Or what if she decided she wanted to run away? Maybe it was best to just keep it with her. She opened the cupboard doors and was confused to find a few pieces of clothing in there already. She pulled open a drawer and was met with underwear too, all of them still having the tags on and all of them in exactly her size. She picked one up, wondering how he'd known what size she was, then she remembered the lingerie he'd kept with him after taking it off of her. Her body heated up at the memory and she grabbed a t-shirt and some shorts before scurrying off to the bathroom to get changed. 

     It had been three days - three days - and despite his network of high-powered contacts, Francesco still hadn't been able to track down the scoundrel who'd disappeared with his wife. Where were his bank accounts? What was El Araña going to do with them? And what other information had his scheming wife been hiding from him? How humiliating it had been, having to watch her take pleasure in another man, having been made to stand there and be shown all the ways he wasn't able to look after his own wife. It had been a huge blow to his pride, an emasculating experience - which was probably why O'Hara had done it. And it had only been made worse by the revelation of how much his wife really knew about his illegal activities. How innocent she'd seemed when they'd first met; her almond-shaped eyes, her fluttering eyelashes, her hesitant smile. How badly she'd played him, wrapping him around her finger so that he'd done whatever she'd wanted. How could he have been such a fool?!

     “Can't you f*cking track her phone?!” Francesco suggested to Miles - as if they wasn't one of the first things they'd done. “Or her passport? Or her bank account?!”

     Miles glanced over his scarce notes once again. Mr Lombardi had been extremely uncooperative during their questioning, only granting them the barest pieces of information that always left Miles wondering what he was trying to hide. He hated lawyers. 

     “We can't track her phone, so we assume O'Hara got rid of it,” Miles recited, trying not to sound too exasperated with the slightly older man. “There have been no records of her passport being used at any airports in the country. We are, however, following up on private air strips. As for her bank account, all the money in it has already been transferred to her sister's account. We're keeping an eye on her family in case she makes any attempt to contact them, but aside from that, nothing.” 

      They'd gone to Francesco's house almost immediately after landing, the two of them gaping in astonishment at the sheer size of the mansion. It was an ostentatious display of wealth, but it was still an imposing sight, the lone building standing out in the sea of nothingness surrounding it. 

     ‘You think El Araña has one too? In Italy?’ Miles had asked Gwen as they'd walked up to the large double doors. They knew the addresses of some of his homes, but the man seemed to own an estate in every damn country! It was one of the things that made him so difficult to track. And anyway, it wasn't like he kept any evidence of his criminal activities at any of his homes - they'd already tried a few stakeouts before being told off for wasting resources when nothing had come of it. 

     ‘Probably,’ Gwen had replied after knocking on the door. ‘But remember: we can't engage if he's got the Italian mafia on his side - they don't fall under our jurisdiction.’ She'd already reminded him of the fact a hundred times on the flight over, a little too familiar with the black and white principles that had a tendency to land her partner in trouble most times. Of course she admired his dedication to pursuing justice for all, but … he wouldn't be able to help anyone at all if he just kept getting himself taken off cases for ‘reckless behaviour’. And that was how they'd ended up in Francesco's living room, pulling answer out of him more painstakingly than a dentist extracting a rotten tooth. Ugh. Lawyers.

     “Mr Lombardi,” Gwen began, stepping in front of Miles and intervening in the conversation - she didn't want him to lose his temper and cause Francesco to shut down entirely. Because then how would they catch their criminal? “In cases like these, we'd normally expect to hear about a ransom from the kidnapper, but … Mr O'Hara doesn't have a history of kidnapping. And, frankly speaking, we all know he doesn't need the money. Is there any other reason you can think of that he would want your wife?”

     She also felt like Francesco had something he was trying to hide - something he was keeping from them for fear that he could be held accountable for it. He was a lawyer, after all; he knew what he could be tried for even better than they did.

     “She doesn't know anything!” Francesco insisted, his ears turning red as he exploded into another outburst. “He probably just took her so he could f*ck her!” He still couldn't get the image out of his head: his pretty little wife, all spread out for another man. And the sounds she'd made! The desperate moans and whimpers that had spilled from her quivering lips as she'd let herself be violated by that … that villain! She'd never begged for him like that before.

     Gwen and Miles exchange startled glances, surprised by the vulgar way in which the man had spoken of his wife. Then Miles stepped forward again, wanting to question Francesco some more. But Gwen stopped him immediately, silently arguing that they weren't going to get any more out of him that what he'd already give to them. 

     “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Lombardi,” Gwen told him politely. “We'll keep you updated and let you know if we make any progress.” 

     She paused to look him straight in the eyes, insisting on meeting his gaze until he started to shit uncomfortably in position. Then she added, “we trust you'll do the same.” 

     Francesco pulled his gaze away from hers and waved his hands in the air, pushing them back out the door.

     “Yes! Of course!” he agreed. “Anything to get my … my wife back.” And his bank statements too, of course. But they didn't need to know about that. Francesco shut the door behind them, leaving them alone and with another hour's journey back into town. 

     “Suspicious?” Miles asked, heading back towards the car. Gwen shrugged. 

     “Not our problem,” she warned him firmly. Francesco Lombardi wasn't just another cunning lawyer - he'd also defended many of the prominent Italian organised crime families against charges of tax evasion. She had no doubt that he also had a hand in their numerous money laundering activities, but they weren't here to try to take down the Italian mafia in one week: they were here for Miguel O'Hara. And this time, she'd make sure he couldn't escape. “We just have to focus on catching our spider.” 

Tags: @heubstr

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel fanfic #miguel smut #miguel x oc #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #mafia boss miguel #mafia fic #mafia au #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 spiderverse

[buckysimp101]

Everything the Light Touches (18+)- Chapter Nineteen

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

chapter warnings: death, blood, angst

a/n: hiiiii friiiiiiends. this is a little filler chapter to hopefully appease y’all for a little bit. life has been so crazy the last month and i am so sorry for how long it has taken to update this fic. this chapter is definitely not as long as all the other chapters and for that I apologize

Series Masterlist 

Ringing in your ears.

The murmur of voices, speaking softly but hurriedly. As if too afraid to speak above a whisper. For fear of disturbing you. The people around you.

It’s too late for that. It’s hard to disturb the dead.

Wails. The wails of a wife mourning her husband. It was Winnie’s sharp intake of breath before letting out another wail that brought you back to the present. Making you too aware of the feel of blood soaking through your fingers. To the red staining your wedding dress. To the tears making tracks down your cheeks as your body froze. It was as if you were wading through water. The voices were still muffled but you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off the body next to you. The feeling of a hand touching your shoulder grasped your attention as you tried to turn your head to face its owner. You were moving too slowly. Too slowly to actually function. But you knew you needed to look away. To get out. You all needed to get out. But looking into the shattered soul of Bucky Barnes had all the air whooshing out of your lungs.

Looking Bucky in the eyes was like what you expected it would feel like to open an airplane door mid-flight. He was watching you, his hand moving slowly to lightly grasp your chin. He was checking on you, making sure you weren’t harmed. But while he was checking on your physical wellbeing, you were taking inventory about his mental wellbeing. Bucky Barnes had spent years perfecting his look of disinterest, working hard to make sure a single emotion was never betrayed on his face. But Bucky wasn’t trying. You could see every single emotion fighting for dominance in his eyes. A roiling ocean of anger, angst, and fear. But he would never say that out loud. Bucky would never declare weakness. And this? This was intended to make him look weak. 

“It was intended for me,” he whispered to himself as he took your hands into his own and stared at his father’s blood staining you, his mother and the ground around him.

 You couldn’t breathe. 

You knew he was telling the truth. You both were aware that your marriage would start a war but you had, naively, thought it would take a little bit until the retaliation. And you surely didn’t expect the retaliation to begin with death.

Winnie’s wails had transitioned to hyperventilation, pulling you and Bucky from your shared shock to take in his mother. To full take stock of the situation at hand.

Natasha was in the process of pulling Winnie away from George’s body, but the widow gripped tighter, wails falling from her mouth yet again. Shattering your heart into a million pieces all over again and pulling your body over the edge. Sobs wracked your body as Bucky gripped you close to his chest and allowed you to cry before he was handing you to Steve and making his way to his mother. Winnie’s sobs worsened when Bucky took her in his arms and attempted to try and soothe his mother. As well as one can in such a traumatic moment.

The police showed up at some point but Steve and Bucky had taken over at some point, leaving you and Natasha to offer a shred of comfort to Winnie after the police had to practically force her out of the way so they could take George’s body. Her tears were soaking your hair and yours were soaking her dress. You knew the family was going to do something to make sure the word didn’t spread too far and wide about George’s death and if the press found out they’d find some way to try and spin it to take the heat off the rumors that would eventually swirl through Manhattan.

“He loved you. He always loved you. He suspected James being a part of the reason why you left all those years ago. But he never stopped loving you and he was always looking out for you,” Winnie’s voice cracked as she spoke, squeezing your hand to emphasize her words, bringing fresh tears to both of your eyes. 

Another hour passed.

And eventually your group was being moved into cars that weren’t marred with bullet holes and taken to the place you weren’t expecting. 

Stark Tower.

Tony and Pepper threw their door open, welcoming the members of the Barnes family into their penthouse before pulling you and Winnie into their arms and offering condolences, new shoulders to cry on.

“Winnifred, I am so so sorry. I know there’s nothing I can say to change it, but please if you need anything, you can come to me,” Pepper urged, rubbing her hand on Winnie’s back.

You heard Tony whispering his condolences to Bucky and offering his penthouse  as headquarters for the necessary regrouping that would no doubt take place through the next many days. At least until George’s funeral.

You heard Bucky’s whispered thanks as he sat gingerly on the couch next to you.

What do you say to someone who just watched their father die a brutal death? On what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life?

Nothing.

There are no words.

But actions?

You slipped your hand into his, offering a tight squeeze.

He returned the gesture.

You’d get through this. You all would. It would hurt. You knew that. It already felt like someone had started the process of cleaving your very soul from your body. But you needed to survive. You had to survive. George would have wanted it.

Bucky stood abruptly as Steve entered the room with a number of Barnes men. Their faces were almost identical. Somber looks with obvious anger simmering behind their eyes. You could practically feel the tension in the room as Steve approached Bucky slowly. Stopping right in front of his best friend. Dropping to his knees.

And withdrawing his gun. Holding it flat in his palm. An offering.

And then he spoke.

“I offer my life and my loyalty, to the family Barnes. Upon the death of George Henry Barnes,” the sound of those in the room taking in a collective sharp inhale as his voice wobbled slightly, “I promise to walk beside James Buchanan Barnes. The head of this family. I promise to stay loyal. To never betray this organization. And should I fail, I offer my gun. My life. There will always be a bullet with my name on it.”

The words that Steve spoke fell heavy over your group. You could see Bucky’s throat moving as he tried hard to swallow the hurt that was making its way up his throat. It was dead silent as the room awaited Bucky’s response. Bucky nodded his head slightly, a silent gesture for Steve to stand. Steve bowed his head, moving his gun back to his holster as he stood, awaiting his boss’ response.

He took in a body shuddering breath and responded. 

“Steven Grant Rogers, your loyalty has been noted by this family for years. You will be the underboss of this family. And no one is to question you. You will take on the jobs assigned to you. And should my time on this earth be short, you will take care of this family. And so it is known.”

“And so it is known,” the other Barnes men repeated as Steve took a step to Bucky’s right side and the remaining men began their oath to Bucky and the family much like Steve just had. 

James Buchanan Barnes was officially the boss of the Barnes family.

And everything was going to change.

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#everything the light touches #everything the light touches fic #buckysimp101 #mafia au #mafia fic #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x reader

[sunflowersoldat]

All is Fair~ In Chaos & Confessions

Chapter 15: In Chaos & Confessions

Previous Chapter

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under the pressure?

Series Warning: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Violence and threats. Emotional trauma, Bad language words, mentions of death and physical trauma, stalking.

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

A/N: no notes. Enjoy!

Several months ago, on the Red Star—

When Steve woke, your spot next to him was empty, but still warm, a soft smile lifted his lips, he knew where to find you. He made his way onto the deck, careful not to disturb you. You were sitting on the deck, your knees pulled close to your chest, watching the sunrise. You liked to do that, everytime he brought you out here, you were up before him, the harbor sunrise had always been a favorite of his, but watching you enjoy it was becoming his new favorite thing.

Slowly he situated himself behind you, pulling you close into his side, wrapping his arms around you, the two of you continued to watch the sun rise. 

His mind wandered, he couldn’t understand why you chose to stay in New York, when you could have gone anywhere, been anything or anyone,

“Angel, why do you stay here?”

You squirmed in his hold, before leaning back again, “Where else am I to go?”

He frowned, “Anywhere, you could go anywhere your heart desired, why did you stay?”

A soft sight left your lips, “New York needs my help just as much as anywhere else does. Besides, if I hadn’t stayed, I wouldn’t have met you.” you turned in his grip, soft eyes meeting his. Steve’s heart melted, damn it you were too good for him, too damn good to be with a beast like him. 

“Is there anywhere you want to go? I mean you have me now, and Steven can take care of the museum. How about we go somewhere?” 

“Everywhere. As long as you are with me, I’ll go anywhere Stevie. Just say the word.”

His heart swelled, as soon as he had the situation under control here, he would take you everywhere.

He knew he would eventually ruin you, but what if he didn’t… 

What if you made him better? Was it worth the chance? —

Steve sat there at his desk, frozen. 

Yes he had been angry with you, downright nearly killed you, but he didn’t, couldn’t. He stared at the newspaper in front of him, the headline carving out a piece of his soul; Stark Sibling & Beloved Museum Curator Found Dead in Brooklyn Harbor!

Tony promised him, promised he would keep you at the mansion, keep you safe. He opened the little drawer of his desk and pulled out a small velvet box no bigger than the palm of his hand, clutching it tightly he forced down the tears that threatened his eyes. 

Slowly he opened it, the delicate diamond ring glittered in the darkness, he sighed softly as he placed the tiny box on his desk. Resting his chin in his hand he lost himself in thought. I had been you last night at Subatomic, the pit in his stomach yawned open, threatening to swallow him whole.

So many things he should have told you, so many words left unsaid.

He never should have gone to the warehouse, or let you talk to your brother that night, whatever he had told you sent you over the edge. He should have just ran with you, left town like he wanted to, left the business to Bucky and disappeared.

The ring sat in front of him, sparkling with all the future moments you could have had together. He should have asked you a long time ago…

He hadn’t heard Bucky enter the room, his throat clearing as he stared at him from across the room. Slowly Steve met his gaze, Bucky’s mouth opening, but Steve only shook his head, his gaze falling back to the ring.

“No business today Buck.”

Bucky frowned when his gaze wandered down to the open ring box on Steve’s desk, body tensing, “Sorry Punk, but the cops are here. They won't leave until they speak to you…”

Steve’s gaze snapped to Bucky’s, “I don’t know anything about her being found in the harbor.”

He could feel Bucky’s gaze harden, burning into him, but he ignored it. Bucky would never understand. Steve couldn’t do it, he could hear the hurt in your voice every time you threatened him, they were empty threats, if you really wanted her dead, you would have pulled the trigger in the warehouse. It was like he was staring at a giant puzzle, but he was missing half the pieces, he needed to find those pieces.

Bucky swallowed, his voice barely a whisper, “How’d her body get from the woods into the harbor?” The tension in the room grew unbearably thick. Steve swallowed thickly, avoiding Bucky’s gaze,

“Because her body was never in the woods.”

—

Bucky already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear Steve admit to it. To admit he lied, not only to him, but his entire family, “Then where did you put it Steven? Where did you put her dead body?”

He wasn’t sure how your body made it to the surface, the giant cinder block he attached to the chain should have been more than enough to hold you down there for months if not years, this whole situation stunk, like rotten fish, he intended to get to the bottom of it. But first he needed to play it cool with Steve.

“There was no body Buck…” Steve paused for a long moment, his gaze far away, like he was trying to find the words, “I couldn’t kill her.” Steve’s voice broke at the end, Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest, he had killed you out of revenge and to ensure Steve’s safety, but now he was questioning his own choices… Steves gaze dropped back to the ring on his desk,

“I should have asked her a long time ago, Buck. Maybe I coulda saved her.”

Bucky bit his tongue, fuckfuckfuck, shaking his head he stepped closer to Steve, resting his hand on his shoulder, “She would have killed you, Punk. Those assassins are bloodthirsty, they only care about the money.” He thought back to your words last night, how you threatened to make Steve beg for death, and it only strengthened his resolve, it was the right choice.

Before Steve could respond, the door to his office opened, and two female officers walked in.

—

Steve’s head snapped to the doorway, two officers walked into his office, one he recognized from the last time they questioned him, “Detective Sharon Carter.” he greeted.

The blonde nodded her head in greeting, motioning towards her new partner, “This is Detective Jane Foster, Mr. Rogers…” her gaze landed on the newspaper on his desk, then to the ring, her face softening, finally her gaze found his again, “We won’t take much of your time, just a couple of questions–”

Steve sighed, “I don’t know anything about Stark’s sister, I haven't seen her in a month, she was supposed to be out of the country…” 

Carter shook her head, “Oh, we aren’t here for Carbonell, Coulson is heading that case… We are here about Captain Peggy Carter, sir.”

He frowned, looking between the two detectives, “Why would I know anything about Carter?”

Sharon pursed her lips, lifting an evidence bag, she placed it onto his desk, “Well, for starters, this,” Steve picked up the bag, a matte black playing card lay within it, he assumed it was one of yours, “was found on her body. And considering you have been the latest mark for the Ace of Spades, we figured you might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

Steve looked from the card back up to Carter, “That’s not possible. The Ace of Spades is dead, I–”

This time the new detective, Foster, interrupted him, “Obviously not. Looks like they are still at large, first your girlfriend, then Carter… we just don’t know the connection between you and Carter—”

Steve stood from his seat, his jaw clenched as he glared at the new detective, a mouthy bitch, wasn’t she. He gave Sharon a warning look, “Sorry. I’m afraid I don’t have any information that would be of help to you. Barnes, please see our guests out.” 

Detective Foster sneered, “Withholding information is a criminal offense, Rogers. I can have you arrested.”

A challenging smirk lifted his lips, as his eyes met hers, “I look forward to it Detective Foster…” he turned his gaze to Sharon, he could tell she was pissed, her jaw clenched nostrils flaring, “I’m sorry for your loss Detective Carter.”

She tilted her head, the faintest flicker of shock in her eyes, “Thank you sir.”

Detective Foster growled as Bucky ushered them out the door. 

The moment the door closed, he dialed Bucky.

 He picked up on the first ring, ‘This is Barnes.’

“I need you to have Dugan tail her.”

‘Way ahead of ya boss.’

There was a long moment of silence, Steve could hear the door shut on the other end, 

‘You think she’s dirty?’

“I think she’s protected.”

Bucky hummed on the other end, ‘Would explain her threatening you.’

Steve’s phone began to ring, it was Stark, “Buck I gotta go.” He didn't wait for a response, before hanging up and answering Tony.

“Stark I–”

‘You motherfucker! I swear I will kill you–’

“Tony, listen, I… It wasn’t me–”

‘Bullshit! If not you then who?! Huh?’ 

Steve remained silent for a moment, to be honest, he didn’t have an answer, he was just as lost as Tony was. His heart was broken, he genuinely didn’t want you dead, he beat himself up every day, he couldn’t believe he had allowed his men to touch you. Let alone beat you. He would never forgive himself for that, but this, this wasn’t him.

‘That’s what I thought Rogers, you don’t have a scapegoat this time. If it wasn’t you, it was one of your men.’ Tony’s voice broke, but the rage still clipped each word, ‘She just wanted to go home.’

Steve sighed, “Tony I give you my word, I didn’t have anything to do with this.”

‘You think your word means anything to me?!’ Tony growled, ‘Mark my words Rogers, you are a dead man, you just don��t know it yet. I let my parents’ death slide, but not my sister’s.’

Steve was taken back, his parents’ death? Did Tony think he had something to do with that? He was so confused, but it made sense, it would explain why you suddenly had no qualms with killing him, “Tony you have it–”

‘Save it Rogers. My sister may have failed, but I will kill you.’

—

12 hours ago—

The commotion at the bar had Steve leaving Peggy sitting alone at their private booth, Fuck she really needed to give him this information. Growling, she watched him fly down the stairs, chasing whoever he thought he saw. Pulling out her phone, she dialed him, but it went to voicemail. A moment later a text came through;

‘Meet another day, I have bigger problems. Sorry.’

Goddamn it! She frantically typed a message back:

‘THIS can’t wait!’

He didn’t respond, rising from her seat, she made her way to the front exit, keeping her purse clutched tight to her, the gun inside the only measure of safety. Steve’s men were gone, they must’ve been chasing whoever that masked woman was. 

Being in the bar with Steve meant no one was dumb enough to attack her, but he wasn't here now, she was free game for anyone to pick off, cautiously Peggy made her way to her car parked a few blocks away, she hadn’t expected to walk to her car alone.

As she rounded the corner where her squad car was parked, another silhouette emerged from the car in front of hers, 

“Captain Peggy Carter?”

Peggy recognized the voice, releasing the breath she had been holding, “Jesus, Jane you scared the shit outta me…” Peggy’s brows furrowed, “What are you doing here?”

Jane looked around the darkened street, “I was responding to a call.”

Peggy shook her head, eyes narrowing, Jane was never stationed on this side of town, Peggy slid her hand into her purse, palming her revolver, “What call?”

Jane looked at her incredulously, “It came over the radio, a ‘10-34-S’. I was the closest officer on patrol.”

Peggy took a step backward, “I haven't heard any gunfire…” this didn’t feel right, she needed to get out of here, she kept her calm, shrugging, “Must’ve been a miscall.”

Jane shook her head, “ ‘fraid not boss.”

Peggy drew her revolver, aiming at Jane, but it was too late.

—

Bang

Carter’s knees buckled, sending her to the ground, the wound on her chest blooming a deep shade of red. Jane’s lips curled into a smile as she stood above her, 

“Nice shot Val.”

The woman that was standing behind Carter came closer to admire her handiwork, a wicked grin splitting her lips. “Stuff it Foster, where’s the card?”

Jane pulled the black card and evidence bag from her coat, ripping the bag open, she pulled the Ace of Spades card out, flipping it in her gloved fingers, before tossing it down onto Carter’s bleeding chest. Carter’s breathing came in quick shallow gasps, her face whitening from blood loss. Jane leaned down, “My boss says when you get to hell, to tell Odin and the Starks ‘hello.’”

—

16 hours later-

You wake slowly, your breaths sharp and short, not filling your lungs the way you are used to, your throat and lungs feel like they are on fire. Slowly lifting your heavy eyelids, you scan the room, it’s not somewhere you recognize, Hell, or Purgatory perhaps?  Your memories are still foggy, but you could have sworn you died, flashes of Barnes glaring down at you cross your mind, the distinct sound of metal scraping concrete screeches through your memory. Then it's cold and wet, so cold you could swear death itself was grasping onto your body and soul. 

An eloquent voice pulled your attention to a figure tucked into the corner chair, a newspaper hiding his face, “Good evening Wraith, Darling.” 

You scowled, “Excuse me? You must be mistaken, I’m—”

The figure lowered the newspaper, prowling towards you, his green eyes glittering, as he placed the newspaper onto the nightstand next to you, “You’re dead, Darling…” 

Your eyes widened, snapping to the newspaper, the headline reading: Stark Sibling & Beloved Museum Curator Found Dead in Brooklyn Harbor!

“Welcome to the Other Side.”

—

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