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bigtreefest · 2 months

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Chapter 3: Honey Trap

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: A Farmer’s Market and Pouring out your heart over a beer leads to Bucky learning more about his favorite mysterious farmer

Content/warnings: mentions of previous heartbreak and descriptions, a surprising amount of crying/near-crying, soft mobster Bucky, Heartless Jake, Creepy Cole, mentions of blood/period (not graphic and should be normalized because this happens to me all the time and I know I’m not alone in that), excessive drinking and lowkey alcoholism, cowboy hat rule, mutual pining and reluctance towards that, y/n used like three times

Word Count: 5,295

A/N: I didn’t mean for this chapter to be this long, but also, I definitely meant for it to be this long. Sorry for making dear, wonderful, Jake Jensen out to be a bad guy, and NOT sorry for making Cole Turner a creep. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are SUPER appreciated. Thank you for reading, I love you *gives forehead kiss*

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky knew lots of languages. Country was not one of them. You would think it would be, with how many arms purchasers were from the south, but he kept his dealings with those folk as short and formal as possible. It was better for his sanity and everyone else that way.

He’d been running into a lot of country folk today, helping you run this farmer’s market out of one of your barns. Half of his conversations with people were full of twangy words and phrases he didn’t understand, so he just lightly laughed, hoping that was the right response. The other half were children, asking him what the bump was on the side of his head, the result of the bee incident earlier this week. Before, it was slightly swollen and red, but it was nearly back to normal. Darn kids have keen eyes, though, and no shame. He’d just about had enough. These people were too polite, besides their annoying children. Lucky for him, though, he’d sold off the last of the turnip greens, and his cash box was full, so he made his way over to you at the stand holding the freshly jarred honey you’d successfully, and he’d not-so-successfully harvested earlier in the week. It was just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation he saw you were having with a slightly older woman.

“You’re like our very own honeybee”

“Oh please, Mrs. Jensen, you know the bees do all the work. I just put it in a jar”

“You’re too modest, dear. My Jakey says no one makes sweeter honey than you. I always tell him to come back and help if he loves it that much, but it seems he’s too late now. Looks like you’ve got yourself a new farm hand who’s easy on the eyes”

Bucky glanced up at her through his eyelashes with his signature smirk, raising to a stand from setting the empty turnip green crate at your feet. “Well you know what they say, honeybees don’t work alone. And their hard work makes the world go round.”

For some reason unbeknownst to him, Bucky slung his hand over your shoulder. Was it jealousy he was feeling? Possessiveness? Why, he didn’t own you and he promised himself he wouldn’t fall, physically or metaphorically (although it was far too late physically, and he didn’t want to think about how close he truly was metaphorically). Plus, it’s not like he was having the best time right now. This whole week was a nightmare, and the only reason he was in a decent mood was from seeing your smile as you interacted with the town’s folk today. You were a person of the people, in juxtaposition to how Bucky was often only looking out for himself. So why did the mention of Jakey make this feel necessary and why did it feel so right? Either way, he was proud of you and your hard work and the way it made people beam as bright as Mrs. Jensen. But he’d never say that. Where he’s from, hard work is expected and definitely not praised, although not nearly as manual. But seeing all the effort for that couple jars of honey made him question if the work he was even doing was that hard. Maybe he’d been away from the city too long and was losing perspective. Yeah. That had to be it.

“Well, either way, bless y’all’s heart for putting in the work. I’ll tell Jake you say hello.”

You and Bucky both waved goodbye.

“Well how about it Honeybee, Jakey appreciates all your hard work” he smirked, but watched the smile slide off your face.

“Try telling me that with our awful breakup years ago” you shrugged off with a small chuckle, but Bucky could see the light drain out of your eyes a little. He had obviously struck a nerve, but didn’t want to push farther, at least not now when there were still a few customers aimlessly shopping around for the last bits of produce left. Maybe he’d catch you once the two of you were alone.

You turned away from him to hide your grimace. Thinking back to that whole situation with Jake, on top of serving others all morning had completely drained you and it was quickly catching up.

“Um, why don’t you finish cleaning up the rest of the empty crates after you ask those last few people how you can help them with anything” you waved off Bucky back towards the other end of the barn, head down, starting to look through the cash box he had handed you. You waited until you could hear his receding footsteps on the hay floor to sniffle and take a deep breath. Bucky had keen ears, though, and hesitated hearing your sigh, before he continued on, giving you your chance to regroup. He had never seen you like this before, you were normally chipper and full of energy, often a little too much for his liking, but luckily it was Friday, and after he closed these deals, you both were home free.

Bucky quickly helped the last few stragglers take their rather large haul back to their car. An older man and woman who owned the bar in town had come to get some fresh vegetables for their salads, and Bucky convinced them to take the lot with his charm. That, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to carry them all the way back to storage. That was a long way, and you made him walk it. He rolled his eyes when you had told him about the task, too, handing him the handle to a little red wagon with a beaming smile on your face, insisting “that’s how Pappy did it before his first tractor” and “what did you think, I like wasting diesel for food that’s supposed to have a low carbon footprint? That’s why I’ve got you, Bucket.” So Bucky grumbled under his breath at first light, angry, yet amused that the nickname stuck, but still too tired to react any differently when he started the first of his dozen trips to move the produce from storage into the farmer’s market barn. And there was no way he was gonna do that again, so he convinced the couple to take the lot, even offering to carry it out to the car for them, because that was better than the quarter mile walk both ways through the tall grass of your fallow fields to return them.

“Thank you so much for your help, Jamie. You’ve taken such good care of us, you should come by the bar later if you can get some free time from Miss Y/L/N over there. She’s quite the hard worker, maybe bring her along. Drinks on us.” The older lady looked at Bucky with a soft smile.

Jamie, no one had called him that since his mom. Country folk and their want for instant closeness. He hardly knew this lady and already she was trying to be endearing, but her forced charm was nothing compared yours even when you weren’t trying. She looked over Bucky’s shoulder at you carrying a stack of heavy wooden crates out of the barn, hardly struggling, but very determined before sliding them back into the truck. Bucky’s eyes followed hers, a small grin of admiration creeping onto his face at your independence and mastery at everything you do, no matter how simple.

“Yeah, hardest worker out there. I’ll see if I can convince her to take a break.” He turned back and walked the lady to her door, opening it for her to get in.

“Drive safely. Hope to see you later Mr. and Mrs. Carter.” He shut the door and made his way back over to your truck. You had already gotten in and started it with the windows down. Bucky slid into the bench seat to be met by you with your forehead resting on the wheel in between your hands. You took a sharp inhale and shot up, putting on a fake smile, albeit less forced than earlier.

“Ready to go meet Curtis? We’ve just gotta touch base with him and then we’re good to be done for the day.”

“Um, yeah. Sounds good.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how to continue with you in that mood. Should be keep talking? Did you prefer the silence to think? The radio was low on the dash, but not silent, so he decided to speak up.

“Did you see who I was helping? They said they own the bar in town. Maybe we can go for a drink tonight? Celebrate a long week done?”

You sighed. Again. “Um, yeah. I actually think that sounds really good. We both need the decompression. TGIF, ya know?” You forced out a small laugh which Bucky returned and he turned forward as you continued the drive back toward your house.

When the two of you entered the farmhouse, your were greeted by Curtis, your weekend farmhand, sitting at the dining room table. He had already helped himself to a glass of sweet tea you kept in the fridge, mainly for him, which was made from your Aunt’s recipe he loved so much.

“Oh, good, you’re back from chores already.” Curtis had been kind enough to come in today to work on some tasks since you and Bucky had your hands full with the market. He usually only worked Saturday and Sunday since this was his second job, but he’d sometimes come in to help extra, like today.

“Bucket, this is Curty b—oh sorry, Curtis. He’s the one that makes sure things run smoothly when I’m not. He’s a whiz at fixing the machinery, perks of him also being the best mechanic in town.”

Bucky warily stepped forward, eyes narrowed, barely noticeable, and shook Curtis’s hand. Who is this guy who let himself into your house? “Bucky is fine, really.”

Curtis let out a chuckle, “nice to meet you, Bucket. It’s ok, I talked to Y/N about making cheese curds once, and she’s called me ‘Curty boi’ ever since.”

Bucky laughed and shook his head, looking over his shoulder. You just shrugged with a small smile on your face, already more relaxed and relieved to be inside your home with someone you didn’t feel like you had to put up a front for, that was reassuring. Bucky went into the kitchen to get you both a glass of water as you sat next to Curtis at the table, joined by Bucky sitting across after he handed you your glass. The three of you briefly talked about the chores Curtis had done that day, how the farmer’s market went, and what all needed done that weekend.

Curtis seemed nice, not threatening. The visceral tinge of jealousy left Bucky’s body as the conversation went on. If Curtis was going to make a move, he would’ve done it by now, surely. But the two of you were clearly just close friends. Why did Bucky keep feeling like this?

As you wrapped up, Curtis slapped his knees with both his hands and went to stand. “Well, I better get going, sun’s starting to get pretty low.”

Curtis and Bucky had been getting along pretty well, so you spoke up. “Well actually, Bucky and I were gonna go to the bar in town tonight. Care to join?”

“Yeah, I’d love to. There are just a few things I’ve gotta check on in the shop first, but I can drop by after. Does that work?”

“For sure. We’ll see you then” You and Bucky shared a small smile before you closed the door behind Curtis and turned back to the mob boss standing in your foyer.

“Ok, Cowboy. Good job today. Go take a shower, we’re going out.” Bucky beamed, which you returned, and he felt a warmth bloom in his chest at your praise.

“Yes, ma’am, Miss Honeybee” you smiled and rolled your eyes as he ran up the steps, following behind to get ready, yourself. He was really glad your mood was starting to turn around.

As Bucky went to his room to gather his clothing, his mind started to drift towards why he cared how you felt. He was just here for business, right? So why did it bother him if you were sad? If anything, he should want you vulnerable to help him come out on top of your business, but something deep inside of him felt more satisfaction when you were winning. He shook the thoughts from his head. Maybe a cold shower could help him sort this out.

Bucky came down the stairs and sat on the couch just as he heard your hair dryer start up. He had gotten ready quickly, throwing on one of his henleys, his nicer jeans, and a pair of boots Sam had sent him this week when he had heard about the whole ‘borrowing clothes situation.’

He shot Steve a text, telling him that the two of you were going out to the bar with Curtis, to which he replied Have fun, Bucket😉.

Ugh, why did he have to tell Steve about that, it was never gonna go away now. Bucky had gotten a call from Steve each evening giving updates on the business, with Bucky doing the same on his end, keeping it short, only noting the highlights and trying to keep his emotions in check and out of the updates. His best friend knew better, though, even if Bucky wasn’t fully aware of the extent of his feelings yet.

Bucky got up and walked around, looking through the photos and knick knacks in your living room, before stopping by the mirror behind your front door and checking his appearance. This look wasn’t what he was used to. He was extremely dressed down compared to the designer suit he’d likely be sporting in one of his clubs if he were back in the city. He hadn’t even bothered to gel his hair because it seemed you didn’t care when he did, plus, he wanted to save that valuable product for a real occasion, no use in wasting it to go slum with a bunch of hillbillies. He looked to the coatrack next to the mirror to see a hat that matched his boots perfectly and plopped it on his head, swaying side to side to see how it looked.

Just then, you started to make your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks seeing Bucky in that hat. His head snapped up to look at you.

“What? Does this hat make me look dumb?”

You smiled and shook your head.

“No, not at all” Bucky could see tears well up in your eyes, accompanied by sparkles of fondness and, sadness?

“That was my uncle’s hat. He taught me everything I know”

“Oh, I’m so sorry” Bucky went to take the hat off but you stopped him.

“No- it’s okay. It looks good on you. Go ahead and wear it out tonight.”

Bucky looked back at you with a somber nod as you continued back down the stairs, taking a deep breath to settle the emotions that had nearly breached the surface.

Even in this state, you looked gorgeous. Hair flouncing in the breeze that was created as you drifted down the steps, wearing makeup he hadn’t seen since the first time you two had met and a sundress that blew him away. You were gorgeous in all states because you were you. Bucky looked down, kicking his feet, to pull his magnetic glance from you. He’s really gotta switch up the power dynamic here, and if there was one place Bucky could feel at home after a week of embarrassing himself, it was a bar. He grabbed the keys and you followed with an eye roll, getting into the passenger seat of your own truck. He didn’t even know where he was going, but he looked at you with a sly grin. Like for the first time, he had the upper hand, and that would only come from being anywhere but on your farm.

Bucky was a good driver, despite his statements about some guy named ‘Gio’ and grumbles about Sam, who you had met once before. Besides that, the drive was filled with laughs reminiscing all the mishaps he went through that week, well, mostly you laughing, and Bucky doing his best to hold a smirk from showing too obviously, his eyes narrowed at you in contrast.

The two of you pulled into town as you pointed Bucky towards a decent-sized building which housed the bar, still nothing compared to what he was used to. The two of you hopped down from the truck and walked through the front door, which jingled, signaling your entrance.

Bucky was greeted by the smell of old wood and stale beer, the dim atmosphere lit with old neon beer signs and fluorescent lights which hung over the pool tables. You looked back at Bucky as you crossed the threshold where he held the door for you.

“Hey, all I’m saying is, I bet you wouldn’t last a week in my world the way I did in yours.”

You rolled your eyes as you sauntered up to the bar, taking a seat at the corner, Bucky next to you, and a few more empty seats to the other side of him that would hopefully stay that way until Curtis came. As the two of you had walked up to the bar, you had seen a bunch of girls groups whose heads turned, seeing the stranger that was Bucky make his way across the floor. Why couldn’t he be ugly? And why did you let him wear that hat? Bucky didn’t even notice. His eyes were only on you, besides his trained peripheral vision catching the eyes of men whose heads turned towards, doing the same.

“Oh please, Bucket, you hardly made it through this week. I’ve never seen anyone cut their finger on wheat before. How did you even do that? You were literally up on the tractor… wheat should not have been anywhere near your hands, yet you came to me with several paper cut-looking marks. And what do you even do all day? Your hands have calluses but a totally different kind. You can hardly toss a hay bale a story high into the barn loft. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for me to just sit at a desk, bark orders, and sign paperwork all day.”

Bucky’s mouth gaped open as he feigned offense and put his hand on his chest.

You flashed a fleeting smile at him in satisfaction as you waved down the

bartender ordering two shots of whiskey and two beers.

“Now just because that’s all you’ve seen me do for work, doesn’t mean that’s all there is to it.”

“Oh really? Please, Bucket, then be my guest…indulge me.”

“Well, if I told you, I’d have to kill you, so take that as one of the common requisites.”

He smirked at you, obviously more comfortable in this bar environment before your phone dinged and it was a message from Curtis.

Hey Y/N. So sorry, something came up at the shop. Rain check?

Yeah, no problem. Hope all is good, see you tomorrow?

Yep! Ty

“Well, looks like Curty boi isn’t joining us, so it’s just you and me, Bucko”

At that moment, the bartender set down the drinks in front of you and you and Bucky took a shot together, ordering an appetizer sampler platter to go with your drinks.

As the two of you nursed your beers, you joked more about Bucky’s farm mishaps and talked about all the men you had turned down from Bucky’s organization to get him out here.

“I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know how you turned down both Sam and Steve. I’m hardly immune to their charms some days”

You laughed and threw your head back. “It’s not easy. They’ve both got these puppy dog eyes they make when I say ‘no’ to them, but they seemed pretty satisfied with the fact I wanted to see you in person.”

“And why exactly was that? You never quite said”

“Well, at first, it started as a way to delay the deal, but then I realized, if I’m going to be making some major changes to somewhere I consider a sanctuary, I wanna make sure it’s with the right partner” you nudged him with your elbow playfully and Bucky gave you a small grin. “But honestly, if I’m going to do something these days, I wanna do it at the source. I hate hearing important news from third parties, I mean, you’ve seen how I do business. It’s all me at the end of the day. Sure, Curtis helps out, but otherwise, it’s better to deal with things on my own and a few trusted people” you finished that statement breathless from your heated ramble. This didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky at all. Where did that come from? At first, to him, you were just another bug to be squashed in order to get more control over his industry, but did he care now? Did he truly care about what was upsetting you? What caused that hurt you were obviously tampering down? Does this have to do with Jakey?

Bucky hadn’t realized he said that last part out loud until you responded.

“No! Well, maybe? Like, sort of?”

“Can I ask? Can I ask what happened there? Only if you want to share”

“Um… yeah, sure, I guess. You’ve embarrassed yourself enough this week so I think you’ve earned this a little bit.”

You took a deep breath and began. “Jake and I grew up together. We met in kindergarten in school and were instantly close. We were the only two gifted kids in class, so the teacher sent us to the side for extra lessons while the rest of the class learned with her. From that point on, we were inseparable. Two smart little twerps who took on the world together, but our lives were so different. In middle school, I started to take on more responsibility on the farm and he started getting into computers, but we’d still see each other. In high school we started officially dating, and I was so happy to be with someone who I felt like intellectually got me. I think it was the same way for him, too. He’d crack such nerdy jokes, and no one got them but me”

You smiled nostalgically at the memory. “When our senior year came along and my uncle wasn’t doing that well, I applied to more local schools, but he didn’t. We had always talked about going off to college and living together, but he wanted that life to be far away from here, and I had obligations. I got into the local college on a full ride for agriculture and civil engineering, and he decided he’d rather go to MIT for computer science. I asked if he’d be willing to stay since he got into college around here, too, but he said he wanted to be around people who were ‘more like-minded to him.’ As if we hadn’t been the only ones who had understood each other for over a decade.”

Bucky gave you a sullen look as your head fell and you looked down at your hands. He signaled to the bartender for a water and two more rounds of shots.

“I just, I just didn’t understand how he could act like that after so long. So I asked him when he was leaving so I could see him off. We were still friends, after all, but he left without a word. When I saw him again over Christmas break that winter, I felt like he had turned into some overweening, highfalutin, jerkwad. I didn’t really know him anymore, and I had enough to focus on already, so I just kinda stopped talking to him. As you could see today, his mom still comes around, but it’s not really the same. I don’t think she ever really truly saw the way he changed, she’s too caught up in having a son who lives in Silicon Valley now, but apparently he still asks for stuff from the farmers markets.” You shrugged and thanked the bartender for the shots, pounding all four before you excused yourself to the restroom, leaving Bucky to sit there shocked.

He had known where you went to college and how smart you are, but things like what happened with Jake don’t show up on paper. However he clocked you before, you were even stronger than that, because despite how you were hurt, you still wore your heart in your sleeve and showed compassion to everyone around.

You washed your face and looked in the mirror. Sure, that experience with Jake sucked, but it’s been years and you were over it now. Didn’t mean it was fun to relive it all. You decided to go into one of the stalls, the alcohol already kicking in and making you have to pee. You sat down and that’s when you saw it: blood. So that’s the reason for the waterworks all day today. That’s why you felt so tired and couldn’t help tearing up at the slightest things. Luckily the girl in the stall next to you had some products. You cleaned up and washed your hands, forcing a smile in the mirror until it became real, honestly relieved at having a reason for your out-of-character behavior. You headed back out to Bucky in a much more chipper mood and he looked up at you with a quirked brow. He figured you’d taken the time you needed. He was appreciative of you being so open with him, and wasn’t going to question the switch-up since he was just so happy to see you being yourself again after a long day.

“Up for a game of pool, cowboy?”

“Oh, you’re signing up to lose, Honeybee”

“Ok, ok, best four out of seven” Bucky whined as you giggled, whiskey shots catching up to you as you held another beer bottle in your hand. Bucky was hardly affected, he essentially rocked this much alcohol in his system by noon on a daily basis. Just then, his phone rang, and he motioned to show you it was Steve. You gave him a thumbs up and started to rack the balls to set up for the next game.

You watched Bucky walk out the door as you felt a presence looming behind you. You turned around and stood up, eyes tracing up a body dressed in brown hues until you reached a set of blue eyes shaded by a cowboy hat brim.

“Oh, howdy, can I help you?”

“I sure hope so. Can I get you a drink? Two whiskey sours” the stranger yelled over to the bar.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“My name’s Cole, Cole Turner. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”

He was handsome, there was no denying that, but something seemed off. You plastered your best fake smile on your face. You didn’t need a confrontation tonight, not in your favorite dress. You didn’t want to taint the memory of it because of some rando. Wait. Was he a rando? Where have you heard the name ‘Turner’ before? Before you could continue your train of thought, a waiter came over with your drinks. They were very sweet compared to what you’d had all night, just like his demeanor, which seemed like a thin veil over the surface. You tried to channel your drink’s energy into your words to sweetly reply until you could properly remember who he was through your alcohol-fogged mind.

“Oh, I’m not here alone. I’m here with a friend”

“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but I don’t see anyone around. You up for a game?”

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he grabbed a pool cue and made a move to break. After that, he was keeping a little too close to you constantly. You did your best to stay kind, but must’ve been sending the wrong signals as he asked you “You wanna get out of here? I’ve got a hotel room down the road.”

In an attempt to change the subject you asked “Oh, so you’re not from around here? What are you doing in town?” Looking towards the door hoping Bucky would be done with his update any minute now.

“Ah, I used to live around here. My family owns a string of dairy farms. I’m here to try and convince these small-town farmers to give up the land.”

Your eyes went wide. Luckily you were facing away from him. He was that Cole Turner. The one whose family ran a packaged beverage empire and prided themselves on squashing the little guy. You were lucky he didn’t seem to recognize you yet, as the last remaining competitor in town. The one he had probably come in to squash. Just then, lost in thought, you felt a hand snake around your waist and you flinched.

“Relax, Honeybee, it’s just me” Bucky whispered in your ear. Your shoulders visibly relaxed as you turned around and threw your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. You pulled away, but not enough for Bucky’s hand to leave your waist, and looked between the two men, grabbing Bucky’s hat and placing it on your head immediately.

“Uh, James, this is Cole. He’s visiting town.”

Bucky reached out his hand Cole shook it. Cole took a large step back after, respecting the hat on your head, and, was he intimidated by Bucky’s stature? Sensing your discomfort, Bucky spoke up. “Nice to meet you. Shame we’re heading out now.”

You grabbed Bucky’s hand, not looking back, and headed straight to the door as quickly as your numb, wobbly legs would take you. Once you were met by the cool, crisp night air, you sighed in relief and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Thank you for helping me get out of there”

He shuddered at your proximity and the comfort you felt in this type of contact. It felt natural and he never wanted it to stop. With a soft smile and a glance at the top of the hat, he said, “No problem, Honeybee. Let’s get home.”

He helped you get up into the cab of the truck, sliding you across the bench seat before he got in and started it up.

“So what was the deal with the hat? And that guy?”

You yawned and stretched, settling in against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Uh, when a girl takes a guy’s hat and puts it on her head, it means she’s going home with him. And don’t worry, I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted that guy to get off my back. We can talk more about that later.”

You wiggled to get more comfortable, your hand still in Bucky’s as he used the other to steer the truck down the old country roads. Your eyes fluttered shut as you fell asleep on him. His eyes flickered between you and the road in the headlights ahead. He luckily had a good sense of direction and was able to remember how to get home from your instructions earlier.

When he pulled into your gravel driveway, your were sound asleep, softly snoring, drool having dripped onto his Henley, but he didn’t mind at all. He lifted you out of the truck and carried you up the steps, taking off your boots before tucking you into bed for the night.

Next >

Bonus A/N: so where I’m from, “Turner’s” really is a beverage empire and they make really good products. I just figured I can’t make a farm AU without putting Cole in it, no matter how inaccurate to character.

Series taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

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gros-chat-fait · 3 months

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Spirits & Such Consultation, a.k.a a fake psychic and a bunch of actual psychics he adopts (most of whom are teenagers)

#mp100 #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #kageyama shigeo #kageyama ritsu #kurata tome #hanazawa teruki #suzuki shou #serizawa katsuya #mp100 dimple #tried replicating bones' shading rules for the anime with varied result #been going through some mental lows since late last year and this series has been a warm cocoon for me for a couple weeks #reigen makes me laugh and cringe and hype and root for him and wanting to be a better person #which is an interesting combination of emotions a single character can produce #also pretty funny that he shares a bday with naruto #why are all (anime) libra men like That #art du chat

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thaumasilva · 1 year

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i have no real predictions for traffic/life series season 4 but i think they should give everyone three sets of healthbars and leave it at that

#normal third life rules apply otherwise #traffic smp #life series #mcyt #t #i also think they should be immune to all mob damage but that's just me

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marvellous1917 · 8 months

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Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

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#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky fic #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x tattoo artist!reader #ace chats #tattoo artist!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader

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stylesharrys · 2 months

Text

all that you are | prologue [mafiarry]

authors note: okay, here you are, the start of mob!harry all the way from patreon. this has been so special to me as it’s been brought back from the past (we’re talking 5 years ago) and turned into what it is now! in this series, gem is younger than harry. i really hope you love this series as much as i loved writing it

word count: 1,156

summary: an arranged marriage is set, and y/n has no say in the matter.

Giovanni Saccaro sips on his scotch in his parlour. His grey, wispy hair is combed back, his balding head glinting under the orange hues of the wall lights. His son sits beside him, twenty and full of life and excitement.

Bruno’s always teased Giovanni for the lack of hair on his head, promised that when he becomes Capo of the Californian Famiglia, he wouldn’t lose his looks and hair as his Father had.

Opposite them, across the dark oak desk, Stefano Dellucci leans back in his chair. He’s a few years younger than Saccaro and his hair isn’t balding just yet. Flown in from New York, he’s got a proposition to secure power and strength in his Famiglia.

There’s a glimmer of excitement in Dellucci’s eyes as he clasps his hands over his middle and relaxes further into his chair.

He shouldn’t be this relaxed in such a situation. He should be on his toes, ready for anything. His step-son sits beside him, dark brown locks ungodly waves on his head and his face is void of emotion, but there’s a wicked hint of a smirk that tugs on the corners of his pink lips.

Harry Styles-Dellucci, twenty-two-years-old and soon to be Capo of the New York Famiglia. Clad in a black Armani suit, his thick legs are spread wide and a menacing glint flickers in his eyes as Giovanni begins to lean forward and speak.

“It’s unexpected for me to receive a visit from the Dellucci’s. I don’t remember the last time New York and California met without there being a bloodbath,” he sips his scotch, “Tell me why this shouldn’t end the same way.”

Stefano fights back the urge to scoff but Harry doesn’t hide the way he rolls his eyes. Jeff stands by the door, warm brown eyes, that are anything but, drilling holes into Giovanni’s head and his hand rests on his gun holster beneath his suit vest.

Giovanni’s guard, Gomez, does the same from beside him. He reaches a hand to his side, a silent order to remain calm, to not cause a scene, and Gomez removes his hand from under the lapel of his suit blazer.

“There’s no need for hostility, Giovanni. We come in peace, to form an alliance of sorts,” Dellucci grins.

Giovanni sits back and squints, but waves his hand to continue. Harry has to bite back a scoff. The man acts as though he’s doing Stefano a favour by hearing him out, but in reality, Harry is about to be the one to save both their asses.

“And what did you have in mind?” Giovanni asks, somewhat interested.

Stefano’s lips twitch. “I understand you have a young daughter, almost of age to marry, but I hear you’re also yet to find her a husband.” Harry hates how disgusting Stefano sounds about the matter.

He isn’t entirely innocent, though. When he found out he’d have a trial of taking over as Capo, he jumped at the chance to rule and finally be away from his stepfather. But becoming Capo also means holding larger responsibilities, and to keep up appearances, he needs a wife.

A young, unscathed wife.

“And what makes you think I’d want to marry her off to some traitor by blood,” Giovanni seethes, his poisonous words doing nothing to phase Harry, even if it is direct disrespect toward his dead father.

Stefano raises a hand.

“Now, Saccaro, we all know what my son's relation to the English ensures us. People have come to terms with his blood heritage and it only secures our alliances with London, who are also allied with the Portuguese and Russians. Be wise with what you say next.”

It’s been no secret about Harry’s background and family. That his biological father was of English heritage and a mobster in an arranged marriage with an Italian woman to form allies between London and Italy.

Many view Harry as the poster child for a traitor, though others view him as one of the most powerful and dangerous Made Men out there. Harry has connections to the Portuguese, the English, Russians and Italian, all of which are just from being born.

No other Famiglia has connections quite like him, and the Saccaro’s should consider themselves honoured to be given this type of consideration.

Giovanni hums, a finger on his lips as though he’s deep in thought. Bruno squints his eyes as though anything he says will have an impact on Giovanni’s decision. Harry glances at his father, who looks like he might just burst if Saccaro turns him down.

He sinks back into his seat and smirks to himself. He knows the type of man Giovanni is, he’s heard the rumours. Late nights at the whoreclubs while his wife sleeps, blissfully aware but thankful he isn’t touching her instead.

Giovanni is a man that craves power and respect. And if he thinks this deal will give him that, there’s no reason for him to turn it down.

“She’s not even 18. I won’t whore her off until she’s of proper age,” Giovanni speaks and if Harry didn’t know better, he’d probably think he actually cared for his daughter, and not that the longer he waits, the more she’d be worth.

But he does know better. So much better.

“But she is of innocence, yes? There will be blood on the sheets,” Stefano asks, as though asking of her virginity is the most appropriate question for a father.

Harry can’t help but smirk at the idea. Having a woman completely bound to him, to respect him and please him only.

Harry has slept with enough women to know how to use his dick, but something about taking a woman’s innocence and making her completely his has his cock twinging in his pants.

Giovanni scoffs, Bruno’s grin thickening. Like father, like son. “Of course. She’s never even spoken with a man outside of this family and her guard, Gomez. I raised a respectful young woman, not a dirty whore,” he raises his head.

You mean your wife raised a respectful young woman, Harry thinks.

Stefano nods his head.

“Very well. We can turn her birthday into the engagement party two months from now, allow them to meet and that gives us time to plan the wedding and discuss further arrangements.”

Giovanni nods. “Three years. When she’s 21, she may be wed.”

Harry sits back in his seat, cocky grin on his lips and he’s eager to get a look at his fiancé. He watches as his father and Giovanni reach across the table, their hands meeting in a firm shake and just like that, it’s sealed.

Y/N Saccaro will be his wife.

okkk so this is just the prologue, a little warmer up for you guys as the next parts of this series are something like 20k words long each! next part is scheduled for next week! please please leave some feedback on this series, it truly means so much to hear what you guys think!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #mob!harry #harry styles fic

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honeybleed · 8 months

Text

“then so be it” ⋆ red haired shanks

content & warnings: female reader, she/her pronouns, black-coded reader, conflict angst, fluff

author’s note: opla shanks is sexy, tbh so is animanga shanks 😹 so u can imagine which ever

word count: 1.5k

He means well.

That’s what you believe, and when he does things that chip away at that thought, it's what you say aloud.

You feel silly. because when you try and face reality with the way Shanks disrespects you, you hear a voice in the back of your head pull up that same excuse.

Descending a path of overthinking never helps you. All it does is make you panic and question your sanity.

You’d been in a long-term relationship with the notorious Red Haired Shanks, captain of the aptly named Red Haired Pirates and it was never going to be a walk in the park.

He drops by when he can to your home island, even if it irritates his crew members but he can easily pacify them by making a detour to the local tavern and having some alone time with you for a few nights before he's off heading to whatever journey to god knows where.

You reminisce on how you two met.

Your village had always been under an oppressive tyrant's rule but it was lifted thanks to Red Haired pirates. Now your home was back to normal and free.

Apparently, that’s what Emperors of the Sea could just do.

It was slightly embarrassing for you to admit to Shanks later on that you had fallen for him the moment you saw him. How cliché.

But as soon as you had given him the green light for him to pursue you, he made sure everybody knew you were his.

"Jeez, what's with you Captain? You look like shit." Lucky commented after Shanks had been uncharacteristically quiet for the last few days.

"Always can count on you for honesty, can't I buddy?" Shanks chuckled as he straightened his posture slightly.

"You and the missus on bad terms or what?" Beckman questioned as he leaned his elbows against the bar and tilted his head back.

"How’d you know, you sneaky bastard?"

"Written all over your face. What's the damage?"

"Stood her up." Shanks said, thumping his head on the counter.

"For how long?"

"Waiter said the sweet thing had been sitting there for two hours. Christ, I’ve never fucked up this bad."

"Damn, you missed your anniversary cos you were out drinking with us?"

"I’m a dirtbag." Shanks groaned, still wallowing in his guilt.

There was a slight commotion and clamouring of other pirates at the front of the tavern, Lucky turned his head to see what all the noise was about.

"Oooooweeeee!"

"Smokin' hot!"

Lucky’s eyes immediately widened when he realized who it was.

"Uh Cap, you're gonna wanna see this."

"I don't wanna look at some random broads, Lucky. I’m already in the doghouse and all I can think of is my beloved-"

"She’s right there!" Lucky exclaimed.

Shanks pulled a face and squinted his eyes at the absurdity of the suggestion you were even here.

"Quit pullin' my leg Lucky. You ain’t funny."

"I’m dead serious, Cap! Look!"

Shanks did a spit take when he saw none other than his girlfriend, stood at the entrance with three other gorgeous women.

All in the most showy, dressy attire you could think of.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Yasopp questioned.

It was common knowledge that you stuck on your island. And never left.

There was countless men fawning over the four women, but you in particular since you were sporting a “Come and get me look”

You strut your way towards the bar where Shanks and Lucky were sat. Deliberately swinging your hips, running your fingers through your hair and licking your teeth which only seemed to drive the men more wild.

Countless offers to pay for your drink as they mobbed around you.

Shanks however, was not particularly impressed by the series of events currently unfolding in front of him.

"How are you even here right now?" He questioned, elbow propped against the bar.

"I’m sorry darling, have we met somewhere before?" You asked, in a saccharinely sweet tone as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

The Red Haired pirates burst into absolute hysterics, banging tables, spilling drinks and jeering.

"SHE GOT YOU GOOD SHANKS!"

He simply smirked and turned his head to face his raucous crew members.

If you wanted to get your own back, then so be it. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it.

"If that bastard thinks he can CAST ME to the side he's got another thing coming." You fumed, as you ransacked through your closet while your best friend Max sat on the ottoman in your bedroom, cackling.

"You two really are made for each other." She remarked as she puffed out the smoke from her cigarette. "I’ve never seen a man who can fire you up that easily."

"I told you no smoking in my house idiot, go to the window before you make the whole place smell gross."

"Fine." She said, as she got up begrudgingly.

She didn't put up a fight since anybody who knew you and was granted access into your abode knew it was pristine.

"I’m gonna look for the sluttiest dress I own."

"And what?"

"Give him some of his own medicine." You hissed. "He getting way too comfortable. He thinks just because I let him do whatever he can neglect me."

"I don't think he's neglecting you." She replied. "You and I both know he's crazy about you, and that your relationship was never going to be like a normal one what with him being one of the four emperors of the sea."

"I don't need rationality at the moment, Max!" You screeched.

He dragged you outside of the tavern and turned to face you.

Shanks never got angry. But when he did, it was spine chilling and it took everything in you not to scuttle away like a scared critter.

You were inebriated, struggling to stand upright.

"I let you have your lil payback but why are you dancing with other men in front of my face?" He questioned as he furrowed his brows together.

"Oh, now you care."

"Y/N, don't be silly! When have I not cared? Is this about the anniversary?"

You struggled to come up with an answer on the spot.

"There’s more to it than that Shanks, and you know it! Yeah, that anniversary date meant a lot to me but you blow me off all the time. And don't use your job crap because a good chunk of your time is spent partying it up and drinking with your buddies!"

"I am only doing what you asked." Shanks sighed, anger dissipating away. "I asked you to come with me, does that ring any bells? And you said no. I try to visit you when I can."

"What? So its just all my fault? Yeah I wanted to stay home cos I have a life outside of you!”

"I know." Shanks said, defeatedly.

You swallowed thickly as you felt a lump form in your throat and tears prickle at your waterline.

"I don't know why I insisted...on being with you." You began, unable to face him. "You told me so, huh Shanks?" You said with a wry chuckle as he gazed at you.

"I didn't say that to be a smart ass. I love you. So much. With every fibre of my being." He said, as he moved closer to cup the side of your face with one hand.

He could be romantic when he wanted but he liked to get under your skin, as he grabbed hold of your jaw and smooshed your cheeks together, making your lips pout.

“Shanks, you’re not funny…!” You barked, sounding ridiculous as you struggled to pull out of his grip.

He let go and chuckled.

“I’m sorry, baby. You’re easy to tease.” He scoffed, then pulled you right against his chest.

"You’re making it worse." You murmured as you felt yourself crumble internally as he rubbed your back gently and kissed the top of your head.

"Then so be it.”

“…Shanks.”

You leaned up to brush your lips against his but he was unreceptive.

“I wouldn’t feel right, baby.” He said gently with a smile, pulling away from the kiss. “You’re drunk. Let’s get you to bed.”

“But…I came with my friends.”

“I’ll take care of it, I promise. We’ll drop them home. I’ll let you sleep it off too.” He said, reassuringly as the two of you began to walk back to the tavern.

Soon enough, you rested in the bed of captain’s cabin’s of the Red Force. Mind drifting off to sleep.

He knew you well, despite barely being around. He was a smart guy, despite it all.

He knew you were a sleepy drunk.

“I’m lowdown and no good for an angel like you. But, I’ll do my best to make it up to you.” He murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his and running his thumb across the hollow of your knuckles.

You were half asleep and bleary eyed, but his gentle tone and rocking of the ship was enough to lull you back to sleep.

“I mean it.”

You squeezed his hand gently, making him smile. He then pressed his lips against the crown of your head and made his way out.

author’s note: ty if u read dis far im publishing dis late af so sawry if there’s any mistakes

#shanks x reader #opla shanks #one piece x reader #one piece fanfic #one piece x y/n #akagami no shanks #one piece x female reader #one piece angst #one piece oneshots #one piece scenario #one piece x black reader #opla x reader #red haired shanks #red haired pirates #one piece imagines #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

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wntrs0ldier · 1 year

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An Offer · part 01

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 3,4k warnings: language, typical mafia themes, men talking, a/n: english is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

next part> | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: At first he looked directly into your eyes, but soon his stare carefully slid lower. The muscles of his face highlighted as he clenched his jaw, something raw appeared in his eyes. You also glanced down at yourself and stumbled at how your body reacted to the cold and the undeniable electricity hanging in the air. It spread only between you and Bucky.

When your father died, you only had time to fit all the stages of grief into one brief episode of momentary shock, then your thoughts revolved solely around the future of the Family. Besides your mother and younger sister, you had to take care of business. And even though you understood the rules of the dark world you grew up in, no one had ever explained to you what decisions you should make to prevent the empire your father had created from crumbling.

The warm rays of the setting sun were breaking through between the gravestones. You had to admit that the sun made everything a little better. Ironically, everything around you seemed to be coming to life; the greening grass, the budding leaves on the trees, the birds singing somewhere in the background. Even the slight rain didn't seem so bothersome when the sun was warming your skin and there was a crisp spring breeze in the air.

You couldn’t focus on the ceremony, your thoughts were occupied by something else entirely. You were unable to ignore the fact that, as the minutes passed, your high heels were being swallowed up more and more by the mud. In all this sense of loss, which you had never experienced before, you felt sorry for a pair of shoes, even though you had hundreds of them. So instead of letting your emotions take over, you began to list some of the funeral attendees you managed to recognise.

You spotted some members of the Rumlow Family. Despite the generally accepted rule of temporary peace and immunity for any funeral, the sight of Rumlow Senior and his son made you a little uncomfortable. You knew that their presence in any other situation would have meant trouble. For as long as you could remember, your Families had lived in discord, and even if there had not yet been a major clash, their company carried the echo of a bomb ticking somewhere nearby.

A few rows away were representatives of the Russian mafia – Melina Vostokova, who stood at the head of the group, and Natasha Romanoff.

You also saw Tony Stark – the biggest manufacturer of weapons, which your father helped distribute mainly on the black market. Tony himself claimed that he was not a gangster, but the truth was that he took the side that benefited him the most. No wonder he was the richest man in the United States. Or at least as far as you were aware.

Even state attorney Alexander Pierce showed up, which struck you as highly risky and simply stupid, but perhaps it was all about some twisted way of paying respect to a worthy rival. On the other hand – no matter how absurd it was – you wouldn't be surprised if it was John Walker, Pierce's nephew, who persuaded his uncle to attend the funeral. Walker had been looking for an opportunity to approach you for a long time; even now he was staring at you with a strange longing and an inappropriate dreaminess spreading across his face. You felt your skin itch as he stared at you like that, so you decided to look away in case John got the idea to take the initiative.

As discreetly as before, you looked a little further away. You weren't surprised by the presence of Timothy Barnes, the head of the Barnes Family, which not only lived in peace with yours; there were times when the paths of your Families would cross, so Timothy and your father occasionally visited each other to discuss the best strategy of action together.

It was the company of his nephew that surprised you. Mainly because the presence of Bucky Barnes was an unusual occurrence – a few years ago he simply disappeared and no one really knew what was going on with him at the time.

With much longer hair and a broader chest, he looked a little different than when you last saw him. And when you watched him from where you were standing you realised that he was staring at some indefinable point, and the hostility beaming from his eyes made you shudder; even if it wasn't directed at you.

You followed his gaze, wanting to know the poor man who had earned Bucky Barnes' cold, piercing stare, and you met Walker's eyes again. As John looked at you, Bucky observed him intently.

You stayed close to your mother, but did not directly accompany her when condolences and respects were paid. Right next to you stood Michael – your father's trusted advisor and confidant.

“Look at that... How desperate they are,” he said quietly, leaning towards you. “Waiting to take over everything your father worked for.”

You blinked a few times, suddenly awakened by the interest in the man's words. You were, after all, supposed to somehow take care of all this, and what Michael had said complicated matters a lot. You didn't know how you could not only control the money, the power in the Family, the influence, the connections and the territories, but also keep it from the mentioned takeover. You were getting more and more confused.

“How would they do it..?” you asked hesitantly.

“By marriage, certainly. Nobody wants a war,” Michael replied. Almost choking, you held your breath, an unpleasant knot, burning with anxiety, was tied in your stomach. “But don't worry about it,” he added calmly. “I'll try to get some suitable offer.”

Nibbling nervously on your lower lip, you glanced at your mother. You wished you had been a little more selfish and a lot more cruel – maybe then you would have focused completely on yourself. “Make sure they'll be safe. Mom and Suzie.”

Michael nodded obediently and walked away, leaving you alone with the impression that he had already begun searching for a candidate. But before that feeling could poison your consciousness completely, your mind picked up someone's presence. So you looked in front of you and, still confused by the subject brought up by Michael, fixed your gaze on Bucky Barnes, as it turned out. You frowned slightly, not quite sure why he was standing before you. In addition, alone; his uncle was talking to your mother.

“I'm sorry about your father,” he spoke, and there was something in his eyes that made you believe his words.

“Thank you,” you replied quietly, but with proper politeness. For some unknown reason, you wanted to move. Perhaps you intended to shake Bucky's hand, or perhaps you just needed to change position. Whatever that was, you shifted, but one of your shoes refused to come off the ground. “Oh, this fucking mud…” you whimpered in helplessness rather than irritation.

Bucky immediately came to the rescue in this unusually absurd situation; he crouched down, and you felt the fingers of his warm hand wrap around your bare ankle. Aware that you wouldn't be able to free yourself from this ridiculous trap – at least not when your companion was throwing himself at your feet – you had to let Bucky handle it. Losing more control of your own legs, you leaned forward and involuntarily rested your hands on Bucky's shoulders. He didn't react; didn't frown, didn't give you an angry or confused look, didn't comment in any way. And you were really grateful to him for that, because you already had enough embarrassment. Though you couldn't complain about it at the moment – the unsolicited warmth spilling inside your stomach drowned out the rest of the emotions.

Bucky tightened his grip around your ankle even harder – although you couldn't call the sensation painful or at least uncomfortable – and pulled it upwards in a firm motion, freeing your heel from the muddy ground.

“You alright?” He asked, and you hurriedly nodded in response.

You were too busy setting your foot in some safer place to remember to move away from Bucky. So once he straightened up, your hands were still on his shoulders. But he didn't do anything about it this time either. In the most literal sense, Bucky Barnes let you find support in him. As soon as you realised this, you immediately took your hands away and nervously smoothed your dress, only to have them occupied by something other than Bucky's shoulders.

Bucky clasped his hands together in front of him, wrapping the fingers of one hand around the wrist of the other. You couldn't look him in the eyes any longer; especially as his stare was somehow overwhelming. He nodded as if he were someone at your service, and you – too embarrassed by the event from a moment ago, stunned by the sudden, unexpected contact with Bucky Barnes and simply dazed by the atmosphere of the funeral – timidly followed him with your gaze until he disappeared into the crowd.

Even though he vanished from your sight, you could still feel his burning touch around your ankle.

It was late. Far too late for any social gatherings, but Michael announced briefly that you were expecting guests. He seemed to be in such a hurry that you didn't want to waste time on getting ready either. You had only had time to comb your hair when a maid sent by Michael peeked into your bedroom. You didn't pay much attention to the fact that you were only wearing a short satin nightgown. All you could think about was Michael's nervousness; you wondered what it could have meant and how bad a situation you were possibly in.

As you left the bedroom, you wrapped yourself tightly in the robe that was part of the set - just as short and satiny as your pyjamas. Before you had completely made it downstairs, you noticed two men not far from the front door. The prevailing coldness indicated that they had only just entered. You hesitantly stepped down from the last stair and headed forward. Recognising Timothy and Bucky Barnes, you immediately stopped. In your first instinct of learned politeness, you tried to give proper attention to the older one, but you couldn't help the way that every molecule in your body, pushed by natural curiosity, was drawn to Timothy's nephew.

Unlike his uncle, Bucky was not wearing a long coat but a leather jacket. Exposed to the pouring rain outside, it glistened in places. You raised your gaze to look at his damp hair, but before you got there, you noticed that he was watching you too. At first he looked directly into your eyes, but soon his stare carefully slid lower. The muscles of his face highlighted as he clenched his jaw, something raw appeared in his eyes. You also glanced down at yourself and stumbled at how your body reacted to the cold and the undeniable electricity hanging in the air. It spread only between you and Bucky.

“Gentlemen,” Michael said. An obvious tension in his voice reminded you that something was wrong. “Please.” He leaned meaningfully towards the dining room. “Miss Y/N should be here in a moment.”

“She already is,” Timothy shared his observation, a sly smile stretching out his mouth. Michael only then noticed your presence.

A silver tray with a couple bottles of alcohol – the only acceptable treat at this hour and on this occasion - was placed on the long dining table, along with glasses.

You adjusted your robe precautiously and took a seat, facing your guests. Michael sat right next to you, completing the impression of the formation of two camps separated by a table.

“I'm beginning to hear rumors that Brock Rumlow has made you an offer,” Timothy spoke, the expression on his face indicated that he wasn't surprised in any way.

“An offer..?” You repeated, holding back the urge to give Michael a disapproving look. He should have told you.

“On your hand in marriage, of course.”

‘Marriage’ combined with ‘Brock Rumlow’ made a mixture so disturbing and explosive that you felt the blast in your gut. As if someone kicked you in the stomach. You should have guessed what the ‘offer’ meant, on the other hand you hoped Michael would mention it as soon as it came up. But you didn't expect Rumlow to make a move so quickly.

“This worry does not concern you, I am afraid,” Michael claimed.

Timothy leaned back in his chair and looked at the man with a slightly dismissive look. “We had a good relationship. Freddie and I. We advised each other on many occasions so that our decisions wouldn't endanger our Families,” he said. “So yes, this worry does concern us. And I'm curious to see what you decide.”

You glanced surreptitiously at Bucky, as if you needed reassurance that he was still sitting there, but you sensed he was around even without that. He held his eyes on you as you watched him with evident confusion, then reached for one of the bottles standing nearby. He took a quick look at the label, then poured some of the rusty-red liquid into a glass and slid it over to you. Did he think you needed alcohol to process what you were about to hear?

“Brock Rumlow isn’t the worst thing that can happen to her,” Michael said calmly. “You know how powerful the Rumlow Family is. And making peace with such a strong enemy would make our business, as well as yours, easier. I suppose I don't have to explain it to you.”

“Do you think this is what Freddie would want for his daughter?” Timothy asked.

“Freddie got himself killed,” Michael snapped, the atmosphere at the table became even thicker. “And as for his daughter, he didn't prepare her properly. He was a fool if he thought it would never happen.”

There was silence. You looked down at the glass wrapped tightly by your fingers, and finally decided to raise it to your lips. It wasn't the nasty, bitter taste of the drink that bothered you, but the thought of your future. You were pretty sure that your fate had already been decided.

“If you make an agreement with Rumlow, sooner or later he will violate, if not break, all its points,” Bucky spoke up, drawing everyone's attention. “He made the offer less than twenty-four hours after the funeral,” he pointed out. “Not to mention he only showed up to steer you towards positive consideration,” he said casually, and you thought that such diplomacy was clashing with his wet leather jacket and stubble.

“James…” Michael sighed.

It seemed, however, that Bucky was not going to let go. “You know what this deal is about,” he continued with a strange, surprising resolve, as if the matter affected him personally. “Do you honestly believe Brock Rumlow will hold up his part of the deal? Did you forget his relationship with women or are you just going to overlook it?” he sneered.

“You know surprisingly much about these agreements.” Michael no longer concealed his irritation.

“I can marry Brock,” you finally spoke up, and this time they all looked at you. Michael was relieved, Timothy concerned in some way, and Bucky appeared to be a little lost since you seemed to ignore everything he just said. “It’s not like I have to live with him. Right..?”

Bucky clenched his jaw and looked angrily at Michael. “You didn’t tell her.”

“I haven't had a chance. You admitted yourself that they were quick to make an offer,” Michael defended himself. Bending under the pressure Bucky was putting on him, Michael looked at you nervously. “Rumlow Senior has the right to claim an heir who will take over both of the Families in the future. In this case… it is possible that you will have to live with Brock after all.”

These words flooded your mind, almost making you dizzy. You grabbed your glass again and poured the rest of the alcohol down your throat to fight the nausea.

“Well…” Lips pursed, you took a deep breath through your nose. “This complicates things… a little.”

“I will arrange a meeting and everything will be clear,” Michael said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “We are not sure what they think about all this. No matter what is said about Brock,” he glanced at Bucky not accidentally. “we should meet with him.”

“Great,” Bucky snorted. “I’ll be there.”

“Excuse me..?”

“Since our decisions affect our Families…” Bucky recalled his uncle's earlier words. “It’s obvious that Y/N doesn't know enough about arranged marriages, so I’ll be there. As an adviser.” He shrugged. “You are more than happy to team up with the Rumlows, and I will try to cool that enthusiasm.” He tilted his head, smiling insincerely.

“If that's how you see it, it's more a case for your uncle,” Michael protested.

They both looked at Timothy, and his lips stretched slowly in a mysterious grin.

“I believe Buck can handle it,” he said.

The meeting was over. You decided to accompany Michael to see the guests off.

Michael walked beside Timothy, who was walking to his car; they were discussing something that didn't exactly reach your ears, but you didn't feel the need to know. You weren't concerned that they were discussing your future - you doubted they felt like it after the conversation at the table.

“Bucky?” You started in a soft tone. Bucky, who had just left your house with the intention of joining Timothy, stopped and looked at you. You walked down a few steps and stood on the stone path, right in front of him.

He swept his gaze over you again, starting from your bare feet, through your exposed legs, to the delicate material of your nightgown. His stare didn't make you sick as the thought of Brock did.

Bucky took a step towards you, and the scent of fresh laundry, mint and wet forest hit you. You stepped back, so he did it again until you were standing under the canopy that protected you from the rain.

“Do you always have to get some poor girl out of trouble?” You squinted, but couldn't help an amused smile forming on your lips.

“No. Just you.” He shrugged, slipping his hands in the jacket pockets. “I don’t want you to get cold. That’s all.”

“You don’t want me to get cold.” You nodded. “Just like you didn’t want me to drown in the mud. And now you don’t want me to marry Brock,” you pointed out, raising your eyebrows. “Why? Because Michael is right; joining our Families together would be the best option. You don’t want that?”

“The best option?” he repeated. “For everyone except you?”

You smiled softly in response – you didn’t feel like thinking about that again. “So? What’s the reason?”

Bucky looked away for a second, took a deep breath and shook his head. “Maybe my heart is in the right place. Maybe I want to do some good.”

You watched him expectantly, finally raised your eyebrows in theatrical disbelief and both of you laughed briefly. No matter how curious you were about the real reason, you decided not to badger him.

“Hey, what’s the deal with Walker?” Bucky asked playfully, frowning.

“Walker? John Walker..?” You let out a nervous chuckle. “Why?”

“I saw the way he looked at you. You can be sure he’ll make an offer, too.”

You wanted to laugh at his words, but the truth was Bucky could be right. And the thought of that made you more exhausted than you already were. “What about you?” you asked casually. You didn't beg for anything, you didn't offer anything. You were just curious. “You're not part of this?”

For a split second you witnessed him tense up. He clenched his hands, only to relax them immediately afterwards – just like his jaw muscles. You didn't understand the source of this reaction, but you didn't even think about it; it was like a brief flash that you didn't have time to think about properly.

“I may have my heart in the right place, but I'm not a guy you marry,” he said. “Steve is. I can put in a good word for you if you want,” he added jokingly, making you smirk. “Get back inside, Y/N,” Bucky commanded softly as he began to leave, taking a couple steps backwards.

You rolled your eyes, and he turned his back to you, then got in the car, leaving you with that burning feeling again. This time it wasn't just limited to your ankle, but your whole body.

#bucky barnes #mob bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky x y/n

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mowu-moment · 1 year

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Mob Rule: Broodmate Dragon

My name is Mowu, and I hate rules. As a Gruul, anyone telling me what to do is just trying to distract me from smashing them. I will smash them anyways! However, if there is a rule that lets me ignore the other rules, perhaps I can get behind that.

Welcome to Mob Rule, a blogpost/article series about Rule Zero commanders, a unique(ly bad) deck tech around them, and what legendary creatures to substitute for them if the lawmages get too much on our backs.

But first, what makes a good Rule Zero commander?

Of course, a Rule Zero commander can be whatever the fire in your heart tells you to follow, but just because we're rioters doesn't mean we're stupid. Since Rule Zero requires everyone else at the table to accept your leader, we ideally don't want to follow someone too scary, as much fun as blinking Magister Sphinx a few times may be. We also want someone of actual interest to build around, and one that isn't too easily replicated by an 'official' commander.

For the preliminary search, I looked at either legends that can turn into creatures (like Vehicles or Genju), three-color creatures, or legendary acorn creatures, and pulled out a dozen or so that I could work on. Of them, though, only one really sparked my color-bending frenzy, which is the one I'll be talking about today.

A Province Burns

A Dragon with a juicy ETB? Now that's something! As my later Scryfall searches proved, the Dragon tribe certainly isn't sleeping on ETB effects, ranging from 'good value engine' to 'downright game-winning', as Dragons tend to do. However, there's only a half-dozen or so Dragons like this, and six cards does not a deck make. We could go full-sale into the Dragon tribe and end up with a fairly standard Jund deck, or... we could get weird with it.

The Big Bad Beast is Back Again...

Black affords us some flicker-esque options, namely 'sacrificing a creature to return another one'--or in Blood for Bone's case, return the same creature to the field. Now Broodmate Dragon can get herself a whole polycule! And, y'know, make a fairly good wage in Treasure with Ganax or Rapacious Dragon, or dive waist-deep in dungeons with Stirring Bard, what have you. The death triggers won't matter so much in this build, but they'll occasionally get an extra ETB with Boneyard Scourge and Bladewing's Thrall.

There are a few solid options for colorless flicker-for-real as well, namely in Voyager Staff, Conjurer's Closet, Golden Argussy Argosy, and Sword of Hearth and Home.

...And She Won't Be Denied

Generic ETB support comes to Jund in spades, even when excluding most of the 'deal 1 damage' options. We'll get a good chunk of cards out of Elemental Bond and Garruk's Uprising, some extra mana from Gyre Sage and Mana Echoes, and keep the board tidy with Frontier Sage.

We'll be packing our fair share of removal spells, ramp, generic Dragon support, et cetera, but nothing much is notable there beyond a focus on creatures when possible to pump that ETB number up.

On Wings of Tyranny

We all know that a dragon cannot be ruled, but if we had to choose one, there's a good handful of Jund Dragon commanders. Darigaaz II may never leave the field for good, and Prossh may bring his own bevy of extra creatures, but I ultimately decided on Karrthus to be second-in-command. Part of it is certainly my hipster blood, but granting all our Dragons haste is very handy when they're summoning sick from those flickers, and the pseudovigilance isn't bad either.

The full decklist can be found at https://tappedout.net/mtg-decks/mob-rule-broodmate-dragon/ . Until next time, stay untamed!

#mtg #mtg edh #deck tech #mob rule series #broodmate dragon #i feel like i should be wordier here? but i really don't know what else to say #it all feels a little self-explanatory even though i doubt it is #whatever i had fun

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urdepressedslut · 9 months

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You're Mine, Sunshine ❝part ten❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Someone comes knocking at your door in the morning. Bucky answers and is surprised with who he finds. Are they going to help them or hurt them?

♡ Warnings: language, heavy angst, mentions of parent death, murder, violence, mentions of stalking, death threats, fluff, sexual tension, major cliffhanger don’t hate me i love you hehe

Series Masterlist

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

"What are you thinking sir?" A nervous voice asked hesitantly from across the room, keeping his distance as he watched his boss pace the space.

Pierce was seething— seeing red with anger as he recalled every moment from your house. He had never held so much hatred for someone in his entire life. With impulsiveness— Pierce grabbed an expensive looking liquor bottle and threw it against he office wall. Shattering on impact as all the men jumped slightly from shock. The liquid burned down the wall, the amber leaking onto the nicely polished floor.

"I need to make a phone call." Pierce spoke lowly, his eyes glaring dagger at the man who had asked the question.

Bucky was not going to live— not after he had spoken to Pierce like that. Pierce was a man of power, respect— and Bucky had no right to speak to him— treat him as such. It was only common sense that everyone was below Pierce. Bucky had clearly misunderstood the rules. Pierce decided it was time to give the man a test, really show him who had full control.

Bucky had lost track of time, losing himself in the feeling of your hair in between his fingers. He had started carding his fingers in your strands to comfort you at first, but now he found himself lost in the action— the sensation soothing his own anxieties.

You had fallen asleep in his arms, and despite the voice in the back of his head to not let you get close— he hugged you tightly to his chest.

Could he really do that though? Push you away?

He had learned quickly who you really were behind the picture your Father had painted for you. What Bucky found underneath all the lies, was someone that he really liked. He liked who you were, and he wanted to learn more about you. Every tic, every quirk— he needed to know. You filled a void within him, one that he didn’t know needed to be filled. It was unexpected, he he appreciated the lightness you brought to his life. He wasn’t used to it, but he wanted to be.

The doorbell suddenly sounded and Bucky was instinctively hugging you tighter to his chest. You mumbled incoherently, but otherwise didn’t wake up. Bucky was as gentle as ever, laying you down in the couch in the library. He felt uncomfortable leaving you here, but knew he needed to see who it was.

His mind immediately went to Pierce— and Bucky discovered he had no plan. No course of action if that was the big boss at the door. The idea of trying to be civil was thrown out the window. As soon as he had laid a hand on you— Bucky was seeing red. There was no coming back from that— Bucky would rather lost his job than see you hurt.

The silhouette from the frosty glass was large, stocky— and Bucky knew it couldn’t of been Pierce. Not risking a chance, Bucky peeked out the window from the stairs. He was relived to find the driveway empty. Surely if it was Pierce, the driveway would be filled with cars.

Unlocking the door, he swung it open to reveal— Steve.

Bucky kept his face emotionless, the only thing stirring in his mind was the last conversation they had. The judgment, the venom that came from him about you. Bucky wouldn’t take that anymore, he’d shut Steve up before he even tried— no matter if they’re best buds.

“What’re you doing here?” Bucky grumbled, squinting his eyes.

Steve held his hands up in surrender, but otherwise looked very apologetic. His face was slightly pained, his body sagging differently. If Bucky weren’t too busy being angry with him— he’d be concerned.

“I know I don’t have any right to be here, not after my last visit.” He started and Bucky’s jaw clenched at the mention. “But this is important— can I come in?”

Bucky wanted to say no, but things were at an all time low right now. He didn’t know what Steve had to say, but he had a feeling it wasn’t good. He was still his best bud— despite him being a fucking idiot.

“Fine.” Bucky said finally, stepping aside to let him in.

Steve walked in quickly, having some pep to his step. As soon as he entered Bucky was closing the door, locking up the many latch’s.

Bucky followed behind Steve as he made his way to the living room, plopping down onto the same couch that the whole incident happened on. Just stepping into the room had him feeling uneasy— wishing he could turn back time, making sure that moment never happened in the first place.

Bucky sat forward, hands folded together. He sat with his back straight, his eyes still squinting. He was trying to get a read on Steve.

Meanwhile Steve could sense the uneasiness from across the way— noting the way Bucky was sitting versus his usual laid back, legs crossed— comfortable position.

“Like I said— I know things ended on a sour note—”

“You better keep your mouth shut if it’s about her. She doesn’t need your bullshit.” Bucky snapped, his metal fist whirring.

Steve nodded in fairness.

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I said about her— I was completely wrong. You were right— I don’t know a thing about her! I get that now, okay?” Steve apologized, making Bucky furrow his brows in confusion.

“That’s what you came for? To apologize?” He wondered.

“No, not exactly.” Steve breathed out, running a hand through his hair. “I came to warn you— about Pierce.”

Just the name alone was enough to send chills down his body. He had swore he wasn’t afraid of the man— but with everything that happened, he was more afraid of what was going to be done. So no— he wasn’t afraid of him— just what was coming.

“Is this a test?” Bucky scoffed, not believing that Steve would switch sides all of a sudden.

Steve shook his head frantically, his face becoming more stressed.

“Buck— you gotta listen to me man. Whatever you did, whatever happened— he did not take lightly. He’s sending a hit man after you— multiple!” Steve warned him.

Bucky stiffened in his seat, he knew Pierce was angry— but fuck. It was one thing to have a good idea about a situation, it was a whole other feeling when the idea became reality. Still, he didn’t fear for his life— only yours. He only wanted to stay alive so he could protect you, and that wasn’t just because he was your bodyguard.

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you his little puppy.” Bucky was still wondering why the sudden switch.

Steve tried to hide the hurt from those words, but he knew he wasn’t in the position to argue. He deserved that.

“There’s another thing I should tell you.” Steve said firstly, Bucky motioned for him to continue. “Pierce has been working with Rumlow.”

Bucky nearly had his eyes bulging from his head, his body as stiff as a board. He didn’t know whether to feel angry or disturbed. The name alone was bringing up horrid memories he fought hard to forget— but nothing was ever that easy.

“Are you fucking with me?” Bucky asked lowly.

“No— Buck this is real.” Steve confirmed. “I knew there was something off about the way things were going, with the whole stalker thing that seemed to show up out of nowhere. It just didn’t make sense— I didn’t understand… but I heard him.”

Bucky perked up at the mention of the stalker, gladly focusing on this rather than the flashbacks that were approaching.

“What do you mean? Heard what?” He pushed, and didn’t like the face Steve gave him.

“I heard Pierce talking with Rumlow one day… I shouldn’t of listened in but… It’s Rumlow— he’s the stalker.” Steve told him.

Bucky should’ve been shocked, but he knew who Rumlow was— what he was capable of. Hell— he was the reason why his family was such a sensitive topic. Just the sliver of the thought had Bucky’s chest tightening. His metal arm whirring in anger— the things he’d do to Rumlow if he ever got the chance.

Now he was after you?

It sparked a completely different fire up within him, and he could physically feel himself hot with rage. Rumlow had taken enough— he was not going to take you too.

Bucky took an extra second to let the thoughts stir, immediately he felt sick to his stomach for a whole different reason. He felt sick for you.

“Wait… did he— did he kill (Y/n)’s Mother?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

Steve dropped his head, avoiding Bucky’s eyes and didn’t say a word. But he didn’t need to— his reaction was enough to let Bucky know. She had been murdered.

“Fuck.” Bucky hissed under his breath, still trying to be careful not to wake you.

You were going to be so heartbroken. More than you already were. Bucky’s heart already hurt for you. He almost started begging to the air for someone, something to take you pain away. You didn’t deserve this life— you didn’t deserve the life you were given. You deserved something far better than this hell hole.

“Buck… Pierce knows— hell when I over heard them talking they started laughing about it. About the notes about the Mother— about it all.” Steve told him. “Pierce was laughing about tormenting his daughter— fucking laughing!”

Bucky clenched his fists so incredibly tight, he suddenly couldn’t feel his flesh hand, the blood being cut off due to his tenseness.

“Do you think Pierce hired Rumlow to kill her?” Bucky wondered out loud.

“I guarantee it. With the way Pierce has been plotting— orchestrating this whole act… he’s trying to do the same with (Y/n).” Steve answered.

The threat to your life had Bucky standing up, pushing the seat back with intensity. He couldn’t stand to hear such things, it made him want to bolt to you right now. Hug you tight and never let you see the horrors of the outside world again. Fuck— he wish he could.

“His own fucking daughter? Why?”

“I don’t know Buck, that’s all the information I have.” Steve told him shamefully.

Bucky walked over and dropped a hand on Steve’s shoulder— trying to comfort him.

“Hey— I appreciate you man. I’m still pissed you disrespected (Y/n)— but if you stop listening to Pierce’s orders… maybe I’ll forgive ya.” Bucky tried to joke, seeing how distraught Steve was.

“I’m not going back to him. After I saw him enjoying the whole stalker situation I— I just couldn’t stay.” Steve swallowed. “I can’t even imagine having a Father that wanted to kill me.”

Bucky swallowed his own fear at those words, and took a couple steps back from Steve. Needing some space to take some deep breaths.

“My Father wants to what?” You spoke up from the doorway.

Both Steve and Bucky snapped their gaze to you, your form shaking and your eyes wide— full of fear.

“Doll… how much did you hear?” Bucky asked, walking over to your quickly, stopping when he was close enough to reach his hands out and place them on your shoulders.

You stared at him, your eyes welling with tears and just slightly he could still see the sleep in your features. He felt horrible, what a horrible way to wake up. First, you had heard something you shouldn’t of heard. Two, he wasn’t there with you when you woke.

“My Father wants to… he wants to kill me?” You whispered in horror.

“No, no— (Y/n), we don’t know that for sure. There’s just a lot happening right now.” Bucky tried to calm you down, rubbing your arms comfortingly.

You still held a pained expression, but walked closer to Bucky, letting him wrap his arms around you protectively. You didn’t know what to say, or think— or do… you just needed to feel safe right now.

Steve watched from his seat, furrowing his brows at first at this soft side coming from Bucky. It was completely strange and Steve wanted to tease him about it. But the more he stared at the two, he couldn’t help but let out a small smile— the two of you looking so… perfect together. Steve was happy for him, even if he wasn’t sure what you two were. Whatever happened, he hoped his pal was happy by the end.

Bucky felt Steve staring and glanced his way. He ignored the smile Steve sported and pulled you away from him slightly to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), this is Steve. He’s someone who used to work for your Father.” Bucky introduced you.

You looked from Steve back to Bucky, unsure about him at first.

“Used to?” You questioned.

“He doesn’t work for him anymore, you’re safe with us.” Bucky calmed you, noticing the fear that lingered behind your eyes.

You didn’t trust anyone that worked with your Father— besides Bucky of course. You didn’t trust that some of his men would come by and steal Bucky away from you, steal you away. Especially after what you had heard, despite your doubts and the spiraling thoughts— you were afraid of your Father. You were terrified he’d hurt you again— or worse.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you (Y/n).” Steve greeted you politely, standing up from his seat.

You couldn’t help the small smile that erupted, Steve’s gentle aura making you feel comfortable. Allowing you to relax your muscles that had previously been tensed up.

“Nice to meet you Steve. Thank you for… sticking by me.” You voiced quietly.

Steve sent a nod back, as Bucky grabbed your attention— his fingers gripping your chin.

“How are you’re feeling?” He whispered, and you shrugged.

You didn’t know how to feel. You were surprisingly calm for hearing such news this morning— for everything that had happened leading up to this moment. It felt wrong to feel so relaxed. You couldn’t help it— you felt like you could relax with Bucky around. You trusted him to protect you— keep you safe. That wasn’t just because he was assigned to be your bodyguard. You just trusted him.

“I don’t know James.” You answered truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt.

He nodded in understanding, knowing what it was like not to be able to comprehend emotions. With everything you had been through, everything you had heard— he didn’t blame you for not having an answer. He expected you to disoriented, wounded from everything for awhile. That didn’t mean you were going to deal with it alone— Bucky was gonna be there for you the whole time. Every step, he’d take with you. Every low, he’d go down with you.

His walls were almost completely crumbled, you to blame for that. That wasn’t the scariest part— it was the fact he was so okay with it.

“I just want you to know that it’s okay, to not be okay. You’ve been through a lot.” He started, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, the sensation giving you goosebumps. “It’s okay to not be so strong all the time.”

Your eyes watered at his words. The validation of your feelings, your distress— every single doubt and worry had you melting for him. You had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in your life. He made you feel so special, so cared about— so important. Instead of following through with your thought, you nodded.

“I hate to break this up…” Steve interrupted awkwardly, “But I gotta meet with my men, let them know what’s going on. They’re gonna wonder where I went— I’ll need to come up with something.”

Bucky nodded in agreement but otherwise held a concerned expression.

“You gonna be alright?” He asked him.

Steve chuckled lightly, slapping a hand on Bucky’s metal shoulder.

“Don’t go soft on me now— I’ll be fine.” Steve jabbed, he couldn’t help himself. He had wanted to say something the second he saw some kind of mama bear side come out.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin that formed on his face.

Steve gave you another nod and left without another word— swiftly exiting through the front door. Leaving just you and Bucky in the house.

Bucky moved his eyes from the door to your face— taking a deep breath in at the deep look in your eyes. The same look he had seen before, the one that had him having to say something before you could come any closer.

You darted your eyes to his lips, watching his bottom one get sucked into his mouth— before you shot yours back up to his eyes.

“(Y/n)…” He warned.

You almost pouted at his warning, there he was again— stopping you before you had moved an inch. Every time he’d stop you, every doubt, every tainted thought came swirling into your mind— the ones that convinced you he didn’t feel the same way. Despite all the stolen touches, all the longing looks— your mind still shouted at you that he didn’t feel the same way.

“Why do you do that?” You whispered, your fingers playing with the material of his shirt.

“Do what?” He asked, though he knew exactly what you were referring to.

You lowered your eyes to his chest, focusing on your fingers fiddling with his shirt.

“Stop me.” You told him.

You felt him take a deep breath in, his chest rising into you. He kept watching you fidget with his shirt, keeping his eyes ready for when you lifted your face back up to his.

“Because we shouldn’t.” He spoke lowly, his voice getting gravely— the tension making his breathing pick up.

You slowly lifted your gaze back up to his, and you had to hold back the gasp at the way he was gazing down at you. It had you feeling warm, tingly with desire.

“Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?” You whispered out, so quiet he barely heard it. But he did.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you tighter against him and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you this time. You stared up at him, watching his pupils slightly dilate— his warm breath fanning down in your face.

“No… it’s not that.” He breathed out, his self control hanging on by a thread.

He so badly wanted to devour you, the mere thought of your lips had blood rushing down to his nether regions. He cursed himself internally hoping you couldn’t tell.

“You sure?” You asked him, and you praises yourself for holding back your true emotions.

Although the tension was thick, and you kept slightly edging him on— you still had doubts pounding at your skull. You just needed to know the truth, you need him to fight against all the doubts— get rid of them.

“Trust me— I want you.” He admitted finally.

Your heart sped up at the admission, and you couldn’t control the way you bit your lip— you desire causing your panties to dampen slightly. It had been so long since someone affected you like this— physically making your body crave someone so badly. You wanted him, needed him, and because you both didn’t know what was in store tomorrow, even the next couple of hours— you didn’t want to waste another second.

“Prove it.” You breathed out, and you swore you saw his eyes turn almost completely black with lust.

Before you could start to overthink, his lips were crashing against yours and you swore time had stopped.

🤍 taglist is officially closed for this series 🤍

TAGLIST: @winters1917@unaxv@sebastianstansqueen@casa-boiardi@sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 1 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells @loki-is-loved @yujyujj @wolfstarrrr @distinguishedbluebirdtriumph @tatianah26 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @lethallyprotected @sadboiabby @ziatracy @doveromanoff @whattheduckisupkyle @buckysgirl85 @etherealdisneyvillainness @doctorlilo @torntaltos @raging-panda @livingoffsavvyillusions @lmao-liz @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @toriluvsfics

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buckrecs · 1 year

Note

You are literally doing god work thank you so much for this blog

I kinda have a request if that's okay. Can you please give us some Mob Bucky recs . Series or one shots

Thank you so much

Mob!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

Thank you so much:) Here are some Mob!Bucky fics!

* = contains smut

ONESHOT

Kiss it Better by @straywords

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

little lilly. by @raysheart

you unknowingly bring out a side of bucky he never knew was there.

*Come Home. by @sinner-as-saint

Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you...

That I What? by @itsthewritergal

Y/N’s ex seems to have more of a hold on Y/N than Bucky realised.

Never Giving Up by @itsthewritergal

Reader is ill on the one day Bucky said no interruptions...

*the proposition of a lifetime by @tee-swizzle

mafia!bucky teaches his best friend how to please a man.

Put My Mind At Ease by @slyyywriting

You married the head of the mob in payment for your father’s debt. The contract includes that you must give whatever Bucky wants. And what Bucky wants is for you to be jealous.

protector by @vxntagedior

the moment bucky fell in love with you

Kerosene by @metalbuckaroo

“You took my heaven away and didn’t think that I wouldn’t go looking for revenge?”

Black Card by @jelsasnowflakes1

When Bucky finds out you finally used the card he gave you he was confused why you only spend 15 dollars with it.

third date rule by @classylo

you had a rule, the third date rule, you had never reached it so perhaps that’s why you were still a virgin...that is until you meet the infamous sweet mob boss.

I Am Your Fall by @sinner-as-saint

You’re hiding from your past, in Madripoor. You did nothing wrong, other than mix dangerous business with a lot of pleasure. You couldn’t go home because... he would find you and Madripoor was the only place he didn’t do business, or had any allies or friends. But little did you know that the mob boss had finally found you after obsessively looking for you ever since you left, and left him in pieces. He didn’t want revenge, he just wanted the one thing he had hopelessly fallen in love with; who also happened to be the one who had betrayed him and hurt him more than anyone or any bullet ever did before - you.

A Simple Housewife by @beyondspaceandstars

A new member starts getting too friendly with you one night, forcing Bucky to show a side of himself you’ve never seen before. And possibly never want to see again.

Could It Be Fate? by @bxcketbarnes

taken. by @wintersldr1

when you are captured by Bucky’s enemy, he will stop at nothing to get you back, and remind everyone the lengths he will go to to keep you safe.

a wolf in man’s clothing by @witchywithwhiskey

you walk into a bar owned by the Russian mob, and Bucky just has to swoop in to save you—and claim you.

Protector by @cherryrogers

Ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with.

*My Devotion by @cryptidcasanova

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

SERIES

A Business Deal by @ezm-imagines

Mafia Boss Bucky and Stark Reader agree on a deal to improve their businesses. A deal which will unite them together forever, whether they like it or not. Well, that is if they go through with the deal…

*A Moment of Your Time by @stevesbestgirl

A soulmate AU where the headstrong reader realizes that she’s meant to love the brutal mob boss of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes. She doesn’t want to be a part of organized crime and she doesn’t want to rely on anyone, but how do you ignore your soulmate?

*Deception by @avecra

Growing up in the dark business your father ran, violence wasn’t new to you. Rivalries and bloodbaths were something you unfortunately were used to. And in order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

Gunslinger by @ghostofskywalker

The bitter reality was this: you did what you had to do to survive. And if that meant going head to head with the most feared mob boss of the city, so be it.

*honey, there is no right way by @bonky-n-steeb

when you agree to be the feared mobster Bucky Barnes’ sugar baby, you expect to get enough money to pay your bills. what you don’t expect is to fall head over heels for him.

*Hostage Of Your Eyes by @sinner-as-saint

You accept an unusual offer made by a very familiar, but dangerous mob boss. And despite the rather bizarre situation and all the troubles which come along the way; old flames rekindle – and you find love again, where it wasn’t supposed to be.

Invisible String by @oitommothetease

James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

*Lost Without You by @angrythingstarlight

Soft Mob Bucky Series

Missing by @buckyalpine

Bucky’s baby is missing and he will not stop until he finds her.

Run to Me by @sgtjbuccky

In where you’ve always had a habit of ending up in situations you shouldn’t, and when you caught the eye of the man who ran New York, Bucky Barnes, your life changed. They warned you about him, but the one thing they never warned you about was how you’d always want to run to him.

*Run To You by @bestofbucky

Mob boss Bucky Barnes hires you to be his bodyguard.

The Light We Lost by @world-of-aus

James Buchanan Barnes had been it for you, and you wanted to believe that what the two of you had, was you making it. You wanted to be the other side of the statistics that actually made it, but your marriage wasn’t meant for this life. You fought hard to make your way back to him, to get him to see you, but life had a funny way of kicking you down when you were already down.

*wrong choice, right places by @mvtthewmurdvck

never wanting to work for him or protect his fiancé, falling for you was the last thing he should do—especially when his boss was zemo, who now ran most of the city.

The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory

You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.

Icarus by @marvellous1917

it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x f!reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x innocent!reader #mafia!bucky

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biteofcherry · 1 year

Text

Sweet Thrill - part 2

Sweet thrill

mafia!Ari Levinson x female reader; mob boss Ari Levinson x female reader

summary: Many would consider your job as a dancer at Lloyd Hansen’s exclusive night club to be exciting or scary, but honestly you see it as predictable and stable. It’s mostly a routine. That’s until Ari Levinson enters the club. You draw his attention and he installs himself in your space, bringing fear and thrill along with him.

warnings for this part: pet play; Master/pet play; fear kink; bdsm undertones; power imbalance; dominant Ari Levinson; fingering; oral; sex; light anal play; pet names; collaring; subtle degradation and humiliation (nothing hardcore); light dumbification

word count: 6k

Main Masterlist

Ari Levinson Masterlist

Sweet Thrill series: | Part One |

It shouldn’t surprise you that Ari became bolder, since he laid a claim on you. A claim to which you agreed, accepting his collar and first simple rules he declared. Still, as you swayed upside down between silk curtains, ending your private dance for him on a late Friday evening, your heart jumped up when Ari moved from his spot on the velvet couch and approached you.

He stood right there at the edge of the platform, his shadow looming over your vulnerable, displayed body. He traced his fingers along the shimmering gold of the collar around your neck then up and along your jaw.

“Open, Kitten,” Ari tapped your lips with a single finger.

You swallowed nervously, but complied. Your lips parted and you made a conscious effort to force yourself to open your mouth wider, knowing that’s what he wanted.

A single digit drew around your mouth then slid inside. You weren’t sure if you’re supposed to just let him explore, or if you should suck on his finger.

Ari’s low chuckle made you look up at his face, your brows furrowing. He touched your head with his other hand, a sort of a patronizing pat.

“I don’t need you making up decisions on what to do.” He said, dipping his finger back and forth over your tongue. “I asked you to open your mouth and you did it beautifully, pet. No need for you to be thinking about anything besides my commands.”

A second finger joined in, filling your mouth and spurting more saliva to pool in. The hand on top of your head brushed slow, soft strokes along your tied hair.

“If I want you to suck it, I’ll tell you to do so.” Ari instructed, lips curved in a smirk. “Until I demand it, you don’t need to be thinking of what to do. Don’t need to be thinking at all.”

Once again with his implications about having your brain turned off. When you thought of it in the safety of your apartment, far from the dark, irresistible seduction of his, you felt annoyed with it.

After all, you grind your ass between sheets of silk to be able to get a degree, to be able to support yourself through university where you actively participated in seminars and discussions. Where your brain was appreciated.

Though it is nice to stop thinking once in a while, a voice in your head delighted.

Ari withdrew his fingers and crooked them, pointing at you to straighten and get off the platform. His hand was steady below your forearm, assisting you as you jumped down.

Again, his blue eyes sparked with satisfaction as he took in the bejeweled mark of his claim - the collar and adorning chains wrapped around your body. He’ll love it even more once there’s not a scrap of lace covering your body and it’s only your exquisite skin on display for him.

“I’ve got a meeting to attend.” Ari reminded you, running his hands up and down your bare arms. “Wait for me in the dressing room.”

“I’ve arranged for strawberries and champagne to be delivered there for you, I hope other dancers will leave some of it for you to taste.” He laughed quietly.

It was a new kind of feeling that Ari’s gesture evoked. An almost romantic type of spoiling, which no other patron ever did for you. The fact he also knew other girls may nibble on the snacks and didn’t mind it, made you soften for him some more.

For a brief moment it gave you reprieve from exhilarating thoughts about going home with Ari tonight.

Outside the private VIP room two of Ari’s bodyguards waited. One went with Ari who left for the meeting in Lloyd’s private offices (after squeezing your ass possessively). The other trailed behind you as you walked to the dressing rooms.

That was new. Unexpected. Made you feel a little caged in.

But you wouldn’t make a fuss about it for now. Especially since the man stood outside of the dressing room once you got there, not trying to squeeze inside into private space that belonged to the other dancers as much as it belonged to you.

Like Ari had predicted, a few of your friends were already munching on strawberries. There was a whole bowl of them and a few smaller bowls filled with whipped cream.

“I knew your silk aerial will benefit us all someday.” Violet grinned, tilting her glass of champagne your way in a salute.

Laughing, you joined the girls and accepted a flute of champagne with a curtsy.

Some of them saw the new jewelry adorning your neck earlier, but a few noticed it only now. You tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, saying it’s Mr Levinson’s eccentricity and you don’t mind wearing it for him.

You didn’t reveal that you tried it on at home, when you were alone, looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling all sorts of thrilled.

Though he wasn’t there, the moment you put the collar on it felt as if Ari’s hand wrapped around your neck. You stared at your reflection, shivering at the thought of what else he’d do to you.

You donned on a pair of jeans and a soft, baby blue cardigan with tiny buttons. Since you were to spend more time with Ari, you didn’t take the collar off.

You had a feeling he wouldn’t like it.

He definitely wouldn’t, considering he mentioned he wants to teach you to wear it daily.

When an hour and a half later a knock came on the door and it opened, revealing Ari Levinson standing there with hands on his hips flanked by two of his men, your heart jumped to your throat. Then settled back in your chest, fluttering wildly.

It was time.

The look in Ari’s eyes and the pinch of his intensity you got to experience so far, spoke of a weekend of sensations new and scary. And the most shattering.

You picked up your bag - stacked with necessities like a change of underwear and a clean t-shirt, as well a moisturizer and body cream. You didn’t mind using whatever generic, 32in1 body wash Ari had, but your skin was so sensitive it would crack and rash, if you didn’t moisturize it properly.

Shadows fell across Ari’s face, sharpening his features and adding depth to his already lethal vibe. His blue eyes held unyielding ruthlessness - perhaps a darkness remaining from the meeting he just had, or maybe a drop of hardness he’ll subject you to as well.

You wondered, if a man like Ari carried demons he unleashed on his enemies over to the plush coziness of the bedroom.

Would he conquer you with the same unbending will?

Ari took the bag from your hand and trapped your fingers within his hold. A surprisingly warm, though possessive gesture. Flanked by two bodyguards, you left the club. A sleek, black car awaited right at the front.

He went in after you, pushing you to the far side of the backseats and cornering you against the side door. Your eyes grew big, your pulse quickening.

Ari held you trapped beneath his huge form, eyes glinting danger and mischief. He made no other move, however. Only watched your breath turn raspy, puffing through your parted lips, a vein in your neck pulsing.

“Ah, already so many thoughts.” Ari chuckled, shaking his head.

He kissed your forehead then backed away. He sat down properly and smiled at you all charmingly as the car drove away.

You stared at him, your heart hammering and your brain whirring up with even more thoughts. Not terrified, but stirred and shaking in anticipation of what his next move may be.

You gulped nervously when you arrived at his place and you stepped out of the car - Ari waiting for you by the door, his hand stretched out for you to take. It was a huge mansion, partly modern, partly classic stone. Dark wood interior softened by all the light. It had to look even prettier in the day, with sunlight spilling through the huge windows.

“Are you hungry, Kitten?” Ari’s hand moved up your back, resting on your nape.

Its heavy warmth brought an unexpected sense of security, even though you knew it was a reflection of his instrumental possessiveness.

“No, thank you.” You replied, your voice weaker than you wanted it to sound.

You were no longer in the safety of the club, no longer in the surroundings which you knew and felt more or less comfortable at. It was a lion’s den and the door just closed behind you, trapping you with a big predator inside.

“Okay then.” He smiled at you, sincerity transforming into sinister satisfaction.

Fingers around the back of your neck tightened slightly.

You realized your mistake then. Ari gave you a chance to sink into the situation slowly, entertain you with some small talk over some food to help you relax, even though both of you knew where this was all going anyway.

Skipping that step meant you straight away offered yourself on a silver platter to his entertainment.

It was something you battled with yourself over the few days of reprieve you had. You weren’t naive, you expected sex to happen. Why else would Ari take you for a whole weekend? Still, you wanted to know the boundaries.

If Ari allowed any.

Licking your lips, you gathered the courage to look up at him. At the man who had half the coast under his thumb and whose offers no one dared to refuse.

“What if I say no?” You asked, trying to maintain confidence, but not challenging him.

“To the, uh-” heat unfurled in your belly even as you spit out the words- “pet play.”

Ari merely cocked his head to the side, his hold on your neck not relenting, but also not tightening. Crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes at your shy stumble with the word.

“What if I say no to any sex?” Which would be a lie. You knew it that evening when he put his hands on you and made you come on his fingers alone, that you wanted more.

But you had to ask nonetheless. To know for sure how screwed you were, how carefully you needed to trade with him.

Ari Levinson wasn’t a client whose offer extended to extra payment for a one time sex. He was a feared mobster, who didn’t take lightly to messing with his plans. His interest in you meant being tied with an unspoken agreement on belonging to him, fully, for whatever time he wished, and abiding to his rules.

“Then you say no.” Ari said easily, as if it was the simplest truth.

Just like that. No longer pause to consider your words, or to wage on his reply.

“And you’ll respect that?” You blurted, truly surprised.

Ari’s eyes narrowed, as if he warned you to not accuse him of something he didn’t attempt to do. He may not take No for an answer when it came to his empire of power and influence, but sex was never something he had to force anyone into.

That wasn’t a spice he liked to add to his sex life.

“Of course.” He assured you, his tone lowering into a velvety dark timbre.

Ari’s hand circled to the front of your neck, fingers squeezing lightly as he pushed you two steps back.

Your back met a wall, a tiny whimper escaping your mouth.

He towered over you, catching one of your wrists in his other hand and holding it above your head like in a shackle. He lowered his head, hot breath tickling your skin as his lips moved across your cheek.

“But, will you really say no to having my fingers in your tight pussy again?” Ari asked, voice tinted with dark amusement. “Making her weep for me and flutter?”

“Will you say no to my mouth on you, licking and sucking and drinking up your honey?” He flicked his tongue against your lip.

“Will you say no to my cock splitting your little cunt? Driving into you to the root, until you cream all over me and milk me dry?”

His words made your thighs clench, a jolt of arousal piercing straight to your clit. You let out an involuntary, breathless moan.

“Mhmm, thought so.” Ari chuckled triumphantly.

“As for the pet play.” His gaze caught yours. Thumb on your neck slipped beneath the collar, rubbing over your wicked pulse. “I know you’re curious, Kitten.”

“Bet your sweet head kept thinking and imagining what it would be like. Did you browse the web? Did you get your pretty head to overthink about it?” He was sure you did exactly that.

He knew you spent time, hours maybe, looking up pet play on the internet; getting yourself turned on and scared of the images you saw. Of collars and leashes and cages; tails attached through harnesses or plugs; people on their hands and knees; big teary eyes looking up from bowls they were forced to drink from.

He felt sick satisfaction at the thought of you being frightened of how hardcore he’ll push the pet play for you.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t go to extremes. Ari preferred the playful, controlling side of it only. But he enjoyed your reactions to the thrill of having such limits crossed.

“There’s only one way to find out how it feels to be a good little pet for me.” Ari murmured, teasing your lips with the brush of his own.

Then he pulled back, released your wrist and your neck.

“But, it’s all up to you.” He said, tilting his chin up and simply waiting for your reaction.

It was manipulative, you were aware of that. You could walk away just to prove a point, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted to stay, to have Ari’s hands on you, to see what more he’d do. To get that, however, you had to admit that you needed it.

Saying it’s your desire presented Ari as a man who simply catered to the lady’s wishes. Even if he was the serpent that tempted you to look at the forbidden fruit and crave its taste.

Slowly, you took a tentative step towards Ari. Maiming your bottom lip between your teeth, you looked nervously around before gathering the courage to look him in the eye.

“I want it.” You confessed, only slightly embarrassed.

He smiled at you, his eyes warming. He cupped the side of your face in his big hand.

“That’s my brave Kitten.” Lightness and warmth bloomed in your chest at Ari’s praise.

His hand slid down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. His fingers circled your wrist and he gave a gentle tug, pulling you along with him. Ari led you further into the house and into the master bedroom hidden behind double doors.

He dropped your bag in the corner and pushed you forward, stopping inches from the big bed placed in the center of the room.

“Let’s undress you, Kitten.” Tender warmth still remained in Ari’s eyes and the way his lips were curved, but as he started unbuttoning your cardigan it melted into rich, dark desire.

With each revealed fragment of your skin, especially once the golden chains of your collar were fully visible, Ari’s eyes darkened.

He wanted you and knowing it made you all the more hot. More eager to please him.

He folded your sweater neatly and put it aside. Waited for you to shimmy out of your jeans, which he too folded.

Fingertips trailed over your body as Ari leaned down to kiss you. A deep, thorough kiss that captured all your attention. He got you so hooked on his mouth you didn’t even notice him unclasping your bra. Until he pulled away and slid it off your body.

Ari’s hot breath ghosted over your body, causing you to quiver, as he crouched down and dragged your panties down your legs. He stayed on his knees a moment longer, gaze on your mound and breath tickling the trimmed thatch of hair.

Panties clutched in his hand, Ari licked a wide stripe from the spot right above your clit up to your belly button. Your belly muscles tensed, lips parting on a loud gasp.

Ari stretched to his full height, huge frame nearly swallowing yours. For a long moment he just looked you over. Piercing, intense gaze sliding over every inch of your body. He wasn’t even touching you at the moment and yet your nipples hardened into stiff points.

Ari dipped one of his hands into his pocket. When he withdrew it, there was a bundle of something shiny within his palm. He brought his hand up to your face, so you could see it as he opened his palm.

A heavy drop of gold swished down. It took you a moment to realize it was a chain.

Thicker than delicate fragments of your collar, but similar in pattern it was weaved. A braid of gold that had a link on one end and a looped leather strap on the other.

It confused you at first. Until Ari took the link between his fingers and clipped it on the diamond ring in your collar. Then it became apparent.

It caused you to hold your breath in.

A leash.

Judging by the construction of it and your collar, it was a matching set.

Ari had it all planned out. Every single detail. It made you wonder if there were other items to this fancy pet gear. What other bonds, or devices he could put on you. In you.

It evoked a hot wave, stretching out to the very tips of your fingers. A mere thought of having something more done to your body made you choke on a really pitiful sound.

“I see that you like it.” Ari’s eyes glinted with satisfaction.

He wrapped the leather loop around his hand and tugged on the leash, pulling you closer.

“Get on the bed, Kitten. On your back, please.”

You hesitated only a second then climbed the bed as gracefully as you could. The leash dragged between your legs as you crawled forward and you had to tug it so as to not lay on it when you laid down on your back.

Soft covers and springy mattress dipped beneath you, a wide spread of shadows danced in the dimmed light across the ceiling above you.

There you were, naked on Ari Levinson’s bed, wearing his collar and a leash. It was so hard not to tense like a strained cord, awaiting what next that man would do, but you tried your best to relax.

Ari’s hands slid up your legs, drawing your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, watching as he gripped your legs under your knees and pushed them apart.

“Play with yourself, Kitten.” His voice remained soft, but you understood it was a command.

Fingers slightly trembling, you placed one of your hands on your breast and slid the other one down your belly. It was humiliating how wet you already were; and he hasn’t even touched you properly yet.

The game he played with your mind, however, was turning all the right switches for you.

You rubbed your nipple, treating yourself gently, though in your head you imagined Ari pinching it, making you mewl. Fingers between your folds traded slowly, avoiding direct contact with your clit as you feared of making ungodly sounds for him so soon.

All the while you watched Ari, your eyes following his every move, hungry for his attention.

He started unbuttoning his shirt, not rushing as he did so. He draped it over the back of an armchair then sat down in it and began unlacing his shoes.

His attention wasn’t even fully on you. He wasn’t devouring you as you obeyed his command to touch yourself. Ari was simply going about his undressing as if he just got back from work and was going through routine motions.

As if you were merely a house cat stretched on the Master’s bed.

Like you were a pet.

Oh my fucking God, realization struck you. Instead of a flash of outrage, you felt yourself melting, your body writhing to draw Ari’s focus as you played with your pussy.

You circled your clit, knowing well the zing of sensation will make you moan and arch. Your hips bucked, head pushing back into the pillows. You slipped your fingers lower.

“No, Kitten.” Ari’s voice was a calm reprimand, stopping you right as you were about to push a finger inside your aching cunt.

Barefoot, his shoes neatly arranged under the armchair, Ari stood up. Still, he wasn’t looking directly at you. And yet it seemed he was aware of everything you were doing.

“You’re not stretching yourself on anything that doesn’t come from me.” He declared, unbuckling his wristwatch and placing it in a top drawer of his closet.

“But you can give yourself a pat from me.” He turned around and slowly started unzipping his pants.

“Come on, pat your sweet clit.” This time his eyes were on you and their intensity made your cunt clench around nothing.

Your thighs shook as you tried your damndest not to close them. Breath quickening, you bit your lip and lifted your hand a few inches above your mound. You dropped it down with a little squeak.

“Harder, Kitten.” Ari’s eyes narrowed. “Or I’ll do it for you.”

“Fuck.” A needy sound slipped from your mouth, causing Ari to smirk.

For a moment you forgot what you were about to do, as your eyes glued to the glorious cock that bobbed up when Ari pushed his pants past his hips. Slightly curved and with girth surpassing any of your toys. The crown of it an angry red, shiny with precum.

Your hand dropped atop your pussy, wet smack resounding along your loud moan. The sting of it made you squirm, your thighs involuntarily closing around your hand. It was nothing to how sore his cock would make you feel, you suspected.

“Good girl.” Ari’s praise washed over you, made you crane your neck and wiggle your butt.

He approached you in steady steps, one hand around his cock, stroking lazily.

He stopped at the foot of the bed. Fingers still wrapped around his girth, Ari reached his other hand forward and grabbed the end of your leash.

“Up, Kitten. On your hands and knees for me.” He rolled the leash around his hand as you crawled forward, until he had you on a short chain, your mouth so close to his leaking tip.

“I want your sweet mouth on me.” Ari tugged on the leash, bumping his cock against your lips.

Precum smeared on your lips and you flicked your tongue out, licking it off, teasing his tip in the process as well. You looked up at Ari, unexpected playfulness making you tilt your chin defiantly.

“Cats like to scratch and bite, you know.” You mused aloud, tipping your face forward and rubbing your cheek along Ari’s cock.

“Try doing that. See what happens.” Ari lifted a brow, challenge a dark gleam in his eyes.

You weren’t really planning on doing anything remotely close to that. At least not for now, when everything was still so new and unknown. Perhaps later, if Ari kept your arrangement going for longer, you’d become secure and bold enough to really tease him.

See what happens to bad kittens.

For now you wanted to be good for Ari. You hoped he’d be good to you too, even if he planned to do some bad things to you.

You dropped your gaze, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks. You took a breath in and slowly stretched your lips around Ari’s cock. You wiggled your tongue against the underside of him, feeling a faint pulse throb in a vein that curved there.

Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed your head, taking more of him each time. Taking him whole was impossible, so you paused a few times to lick his length and his sack to compensate for that.

When you swallowed his cock again, resuming your previous rhythm, Ari pulled on the leash. Harshly.

It forced you to move forward, more of his dick filling your mouth and poking at the back of your throat. You choked around him, saliva pooling by the corners of your mouth. You lifted your teary eyes up at Ari, panicking and silently begging.

Ari held your gaze, unwavering, just like he held the leash in a steady grip.

You made a pitiful sound, your throat constricting and more drool bubbling around your mouth and his cock.

He released you when a tear pearled on your lashes. You coughed as his cock slipped out of your mouth, that single tear dropping down. Ari cupped your chin in his hand, wiping the drool smeared on it with his thumb.

“We’ll train you in time, pretty pet.” He said, eyes crinkling in silent laugh at your scrunched nose.

“Back on your back with you.” Ari pushed your shoulders and climbed onto the bed after you.

Eyes widening in thrill, you scooted backwards until Ari’s fingers wrapped around your ankle. You stayed propped on your hands, chest rising in ragged breath as you watched Ari clamp his other hand on your other ankle.

He pushed your legs wide apart then laid down between them, his eyes holding your gaze as he lowered his head. With a curse you dropped onto your back, hands clenching the sheets.

Ari’s mouth on you was as torturously slow as each of his moves so far, but equally strong as the whole of him. His tongue swept widely between your folds, lips closing around your clit and sucking so hard you nearly jumped off the bed.

You chanted Ari’s name until it transformed into one, long cry as you spasmed, your thighs shaking.

He didn’t relent, switching from sucking to licking and mouthing at your sopping cunt. A pressure of a single digit slowly forcing its way inside of you made you groan and arch.

Fuck, but Ari’s one finger felt the size of two of yours. It was longer, too. More coarse and brutal, even though he kept stretching you slowly, tongue lapping over your clit.

You almost cried Can’t when he thrust a second finger in, but you remembered what happened the last time. Ari did fit a second finger in, despite your protests, and ordered you to stop thinking. Just to feel.

So you did so now, as well.

One of your hands let go of the sheets, instead fisting a handful of Ari’s hair. He didn’t seem to mind. He hoisted your leg over his shoulder, quickening the pace of his fingers as he locked his mouth around your clit again.

Your climax buzzed in your head with white noise, your breathing turned hard and you sputtered little moans as Ari prolonged your rush.

When he withdrew his fingers an embarrassingly wet squelch followed. You were too lost in the humming in your head to pay it much attention.

“All fucked out already?” Ari chuckled, patting your cheek with his slick fingers.

“Mhm, pretty much.” Your laugh was breathless and your eyes glazed over as you looked up at him.

“You’re able to talk, so not yet.” Ari’s eyes were even darker than before, a stormy blue that heralded destruction.

He slapped your cheek harder, then squished both of your cheeks with his one, big hand, making your lips pucker and your eyes widen in shock.

“I want you completely out of your head, Kitten.” He growled. “Dumb and drooling, that’s how I want my pet to be.”

Still holding your face squeezed, Ari kissed your pouty lips. He bit your bottom lip before releasing you.

Next thing you knew, he was rolling you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up. You obediently followed, getting up on your hands and knees. Ari nudged your knees wider apart.

He ran his knuckles along your slick folds, turned his palm up and slapped your aching pussy.

You squeaked, body instinctively jolting forward, but Ari’s hands gripped your hips. Your flesh spilling between his fingers that held you so tightly you were sure to sport some bruises later. He let you go only for a moment, short enough to line his cock with your entrance.

Then he was pushing in. A loud, lewd moan spilled from your lips, your eyes clenching shut and hands fisting the covers.

Ari was big. His cock forced your cunt to stretch wider than it was used to. A merciless stroke that had you aching. It also made you wetter; caused your nipples to stiffen without direct stimulation.

Your arms gave out when he bottomed out - it felt as if he pushed straight into your belly and the ache of it made you fall forward.

One of Ari’s hands yanked on your hair, forcing your head up as he pulled back and slammed right back in.

“You’re doing so good for me, Kitten.” Ari’s voice sounded raspier, as if the feeling of you stole his own breath. “Taking all of me into your tight, sweet pussy.”

You shuddered at the praise, your walls fluttering around him.

“Ah, you liked that.” You couldn’t see Ari’s satisfied grin, but you heard it in his voice. Like a shark that smelled blood of a victim.

“You like being praised, Kitten? Like being told you’re being a good pet for your Master?”

“I-I like it.” You gasped, hips pushing back against Ari’s merciless pace.

“Say it then.” He yanked on your hair again, snapping his hips into you roughly.

“I like being a good pet for you.” If it wasn’t for Ari’s grip keeping your head high, you’d hide your face in the pillows.

A smack on your ass made you cry out, your pussy clenching around Ari’s dick.

He draped himself over you, lips brushing your ear, though he didn’t even falter in the way his hips rocked into you.

“No I, Kitten.” Ari’s voice poured pure darkness over you, locking you in a velvet cage of scary yet overwhelming sensation. “You’re a pet. My kitten. Say it properly. Say it for your Master.”

Your mouth opened, though for a moment you were unable to utter anything. Your brain tried to fight the humiliation of what was asked of you, at the same time your body melted in delight at the power Ari had over you.

His cock was driving deep into you, his collar marked your neck, a single touch of his ignited your body into inferno. He had all the power. And you wanted nothing more at that moment than to be for him what he demanded.

You were his pet.

“Kitten likes being good for her Master.” You whined the words out, feeling the slightly degrading admission push you closer to the edge.

It also made your brain switch off.

“Good girl.” Ari licked your earlobe then pulled back.

He let go of your hair, grabbing your hips in an iron grip and slamming into you even rougher. You fell forward, arms flat on the mattress and face buried in a pillow. You only turned your head to the side enough to be able to breathe as your body jolted with each snap of Ari’s hips.

You shattered, crying out; teeth biting into the pillowcase.

Ari gave you no reprieve. When the clenching of your soft walls eased, he sneaked a hand between your thighs, fingers finding your swollen clit.

Your mouth opened on a moan that turned into a wet cry as he tormented you into another orgasm. Sounds you were making as your body bounced to his rhythm were incoherent, occasionally taking the shape of Ari’s name.

Not even a thought of protest ignited in your mind, you were only set on feeling. A receptive to sensations and Ari’s pleasure, nothing else.

Drool soaked the pillow where your mouth laid open; your fingers splayed weakly, no longer able to even clutch at the covers.

“That’s it.” Ari growled, his pleasure peaking at the sight of you mindless and lax beneath him. “Pretty, dumb pet serving her Master.”

He dipped his fingers deeper between your folds, coating his digits in your slick.

“You’re gonna give me more, Kitten.” He placed one of his hands close to your nape, pressing you down into the mattress and holding you in place.

Then the fingers slicked with your juices slid between your buttocks. A single finger probed at your rim. You gurgled a moan, your body tensing beneath Ari, but unable to move away from his onslaught. He muttered obscenities about you taking all of it like a good pet should.

Ari pushed a single finger in, humming in delight at your loud whine. He got it in to the second knuckle when you clenched in a soundless orgasm, eyes shiny and blank, breath lost in your chest.

“Fuck, Kitten.” He groaned, hips stuttering as your walls milked his cock with a crushing force.

A few sharp, deep thrusts and he came with a roar, cock twitching and filling you with hot cum. The feeling of it spilling made you moan.

Soft whispers were murmured against your back, Ari’s lips gently kissing your shoulders as he spoiled you with praises that didn’t even fully reach your mind that was overloaded with sensations.

He stretched your body on the covers, after pulling out; left you for a moment only to return with a warm, wet cloth with which he cleaned you up. He rolled you onto your back and unclipped the leash. Bent down his head to kiss you on the lips, sweetly and with reverence.

You were slowly regaining your consciousness as Ari laid beside you, pulling your body close. He draped a fresh-smelling blanket over your bodies, pulling it up nearly to your nose and securing you whole in a soft, safe cocoon.

A ruthless mobster wouldn't show such care, perhaps not even for a casual sex partner. However, a mindful Master would show it for his pet.

You curled at Ari's side, clasped hands beneath your chin as you rested your cheek on his broad chest. Ari's fingers brushed tender strokes along your back, his other hand squeezing your buttock.

"Do you run warm or cold?" His voice sounded soft and relaxed, almost purring like a big lazy cat.

"I'm quite warm now, thank you." You sighed contentedly.

Ari chuckled, his chest shaking slightly under your cheek.

"No, Kitten. I mean if you get cold easily." He explained. "I've set the heating in the house higher to make sure you'd be comfortable, but if it's needed I'll change it. The floor is heated too, though I expect my pet to mostly rest on soft surfaces."

Your eyebrows drew into a frown. What he spoke of was very thoughtful, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that there was another meaning to this.

"When in my house, you're going to stay naked, Kitten."

Heat burst in your chest, your shock coming out in a sputter that came out of your mouth. Your head rose, eyes looking at Ari warily.

"We're alone here, pet. Unless I have guests over, in which case you'll dress accordingly, you can prance around naked. Nothing beside the collar, or other kitty traits which we'll discuss later."

"Not even underwear?" You gulped.

You surprised yourself with a lack of defense against his decree, only considering negotiating its details.

"Why would I want anything getting in the way, if I felt like petting my pet?" Ari's fingers dug deeper into the softness of your thigh.

"We can negotiate very limited exceptions." He said, his tone holding unyielding strength. "Adjust my rules to when you're on your period, or when you're sick. But don't think, Kitten, that there won't be consequences for dismissing my orders."

"I encourage you to be yourself and be playful, but scratch me too hard and I'll effectively clip your nails. Understood, Kitten?"

It was a warning not only of a Master that's not lenient, but a mob boss who could burn your world to the ground.

"Yes, Ari." You assured him, gaze dropping down submissively.

"You please me, Kitten. There's no need to worry, I'll treat you well." He leaned toward you, sealing his promise with a kiss.

#Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson x female reader #Ari Levinson x you #mafia!Ari Levinson #mafia!Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson imagine #mob boss Ari Levinson #sweet thrill #my writing #mafia ari levinson x reader

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srgntjamesbuckybarnes · 11 months

Text

The List (2)

Summary: When a hit list spreads around New York, Bucky’s ex-wife is the only one with any information.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x Ex-Wife Reader

Warnings: Violence

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Not Beta’d. Thank you all for expressing interest in this one-shot and turning it into a mini-series. I wasn’t expecting this much excitement over mafia Bucky. I have read and appreciate each of your comments. I am happy to continue this fic as long as people are interested. (I have tagged anyone who left a comment. Please message me or leave a comment to be added or removed from the taglist.)

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 2

Every minute spent in Tony’s office felt like hours. Unlike the rest of the building, his office lacked windows. The perfect place to conduct business or in this case, hide. Y/N wrapped her hands around her bare arms, her heels echoing against the marble floor as she paced back and forth. She was sure Bucky would keep her trapped here, safe. It was the logical thing to do.

Bucky’s suit jacket was slumped over the back of Tony’s chair. Discarded in his haste to prepare to fight. Tony had been rambling on about this being a bad idea, but Bucky drowned him out. Feeding his cufflinks into the pockets of his dress pants, he then rolled each black sleeve up his forearm.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Everyone in the room froze, eyeing one another. In one motion, Bucky reached behind him into the waistband of his pants pulling a gun on Tony. The billionaire leaped out of his seat with his hands raised in surrender. The chair clattered to the ground behind him. Without a word, Bucky tilted the tip of the gun towards the door in a silent command; open it.

Tony straightened his bow tie, slowly approaching the door. Bucky followed him, using his free hand to pull Y/N behind him. With Tony’s hand on the handle, Bucky and Y/N waited with their backs pressed against the wall. A slight nod from Bucky and Tony was opening the door.

Hinges creaked, the door shielding Tony from the other two. Bucky remained glued to the crack between the door and the wall. His finger twitched over the trigger of the gun, waiting for the pin to drop, for anything to go wrong.

“Peter? What the hell are you doing here kid?” Tony barked.

Before Peter could respond, Bucky slammed the door all the way open tucking his gun back into his pants.

Like a deer in headlights, Peter stared wide-eyed at both men. Behind him stood Steve and Sam, each with their eyes trained on the hall. Not wasting another second, Bucky grabbed the kid by the shoulder, dragging him into the room. Steve and Sam entered, shutting the door behind them.

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Barnes-” Peter stammered.

Bucky ran a hand down his face. Now was not the time for this. “The kid is with me,” Bucky offered, turning to his other men.

“Kid,” Tony eyed the gun dangling from Peter’s hand. “I’m disappointed in you. If you wanted to turn to a life of violence, I could have at least gotten you into a safer mob.” Feeling several intense glares on him. Tony cleared his throat brushing his palms down the front of his suit. “I didn’t want to be a part of this but I’ll help, for the kid’s sake.” Tony addressed Bucky. “He’s like a son to me.”

Bucky sent him a single nod. “How are we looking on the outside?”

“Perimeter is secure. We have men stationed at every exit. Few men a couple of miles out,” Sam answered, shifting a machine gun in his hands.

“How did you get that in here?” Y/N gawked from behind Bucky.

Sam smirked.

“We’re all on the list. Y/N and I are active but if any of you are caught, they won't hesitate to take you out earlier.” Bucky paced around the room, pulling his handgun out of his pants once again. “We don’t know how many people are coming for us, but nobody leaves until it's over. Only rule,” he smirked, “don’t die.” He came to a halt in front of Y/N, the handle of the gun extended toward her.

Y/N’s eyes widened. This is not what she had in mind when she asked Bucky for protection. “Absolutely not.” She pushed his hand away lightly. “I don’t know how-”

“To use a gun?” Bucky smirked. “I know you do doll. Don’t tell me now that you didn’t know what you were doing when you pulled a gun on me.” He shoved the gun into her chest. “Better to be caught with a gun than defenseless, even if you don’t use it.”

Y/N growled, her manicured nails wrapping around the gun. “I should have shot you.”

The corners of Bucky’s eyes wrinkled, amusement dancing in his cerulean eyes. “You should have.” Stepping up to Steve, Bucky was handed a much larger gun. “Sam, Steve. You two head West. Tony and Peter, you go East.” He didn’t need to tell Tony to look after Peter, he knew Tony would. Turning to Y/N Bucky announced, “Y/N, you’re with me. We’ll go North.”

“What? You mean I’m not going to be staying here where it’s safe?” Her voice grew higher with each word.

“I’m needed out there. I can’t keep my eyes on you here and out there. You’re safer with me.”

“Buck?” Steve questioned. It was a simple question. One Bucky was familiar with.

Bucky waved his hand over his shoulder. “Go. We're wasting time. We’ll be alright.”

The men filtered out of the room, the door clicking behind them. Bucky dropped his gun on Tony’s desk before stalking toward Y/N. He crouched down in front of her, his hands skimming the skirt of her dress.

“Bucky, what are you-” Rip. “Hey!”

Bucky ignored her, continuing to tear her dress just above her knee. In a matter of seconds, her gown had become a cocktail dress. Rip. The silk now had a slit running up her thigh. Y/N braced her hand without the gun on Bucky’s shoulder to steady herself in her heels.

“I really liked this dress,” Y/N whined.

Bucky grinned at her, “I really liked it too but a dress like this was designed to slow beautiful women like you down.” He tapped the outside of her heel. “These too. Lose ‘em.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “These shoes cost a small fortune and besides I’ll be barefoot if I take them off.”

Shaking his head, Bucky placed his palm on her stomach, shoving her back until she stumbled onto Tony’s desk. Y/N’s hand left his shoulder to grasp at the desk. In that small amount of time. Bucky had slipped the heels from her feet chucking them blindly behind him. He could see the irritation cross her face, a smart comment on the tip of her tongue.

Bucky stood up, his callous fingers curling around her knees. Any comment that was threatening to spill from her lips was caught in her throat. Bucky leaned forward, capturing her lips on his own. She had been lost in the kiss much like he had been earlier, chasing his lips when he pulled away. Bucky’s hand cradled the side of her face, keeping her at a distance.

“You asked me to protect you. This is life or death, Y/N.” His eyes darted between hers. “You step out of this room with me and you’re in my world. Not whatever game of house we were playing before. When we leave this room, you listen to me. You don’t argue with me, you do as you’re told. Understand?”

Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest as she stared back at Bucky. This was real. The severity of the situation crept back into the foreground of her mind. She wished the two of them could stay hidden in Tony’s office forever. In their brief moment alone, she had forgotten about the hit list, about the people coming to assassinate them, even her fiancé.

Y/N nodded but Bucky shook his head. “I need you to say it.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Y/N whispered, “I understand.”

“Good girl,” Bucky muttered, his lips pressed to her forehead. “Let's go.” He pulled her left hand, yanking her off of the desk.

The light caught on Y/N’s ring making her hesitate. “Wait,” Y/N croaked, snatching her hand back. Bucky picked his machine gun up, eyeing his ex-wife as she slid the engagement ring from her finger, placing it on Tony’s desk.

“You sure?”

Y/N had to suppress a laugh at the question. One man was trying to kill her, the other trying to protect her. She liked her options better with the man trying to save her life. “Yeah,” she intertwined their fingers. “I’m sure.”

The couple walked out; guns raised. The faint sound of music and chatter could be heard the second Bucky opened the door. Innocent lives temporarily, living ignorantly in bliss. Inching along the hall with their backs against the wall, Bucky led the two straight into the lion’s den.

CRACK.

A stray bullet pierced one of the glass windows, lodging itself into the wall inches beside Bucky’s head. With a roar, Bucky shoved Y/N back behind the wall. Finger on the trigger, he sent a round in the direction the bullet came from, effectively shattering the glass. Bodies dropped like flies, seeking cover from the glass. It wasn’t until one of the guests pulled a gun, firing it in Bucky’s direction, that chaos erupted. A bullet from the west hit the guest before anyone could blink. Screams pierced the night sky at the sight of the dead body. Everyone began pushing and shoving one another in an attempt to escape.

With a hand on her shoulder, Bucky shoved Y/N into a crouched position. “Stay here. Don’t move.” He glared down at her, daring her to disobey him. While she had given him her word that she would listen to him, he knew better. He knew her better. She would do what she thought was best when it came down to it. When she didn’t move, Bucky cocked his gun. “I’ll be right back.”

Y/N watched Bucky’s back disappear into the stampede of people. Clutching the gun to her chest, Y/N prayed she wouldn’t have to use it. Bucky was involved in a lot of illegal activity but despite his sinful lifestyle, he remained a man of his word. If he said he would be right back, Y/N would believe him. Bucky would be right back.

As the crowd dispersed, it became easier to find Bucky. Y/N had caught his figure several times, averting her gaze every time he pulled the trigger of his gun. If it was becoming easier for her to spot Bucky, then surely others were able to spot him just as easily. He was a giant target standing in the middle of an empty room. Y/N’s fingers twitched around the cool metal in her hand. Two targets would be harder to follow.

Y/N braced a hand along the wall, pushing herself to stand as close as possible to it to remain hidden. That was as far as she got before Bucky was stomping back in her direction, shoving her back behind the wall. “No!” He snarled. He towered over her obstructing her view beyond the hall. Though she couldn’t see the chaos, she could still hear the guns firing along with the wail of sirens in the distance. The police were on their way. “When I said don’t move, I meant it Y/N,” he growled. He also meant it when he said she was safe with him. He had known the exact moment she moved. The sirens grew louder.

“Bucky, we have to go,” Y/N pleaded.

Click.

Bucky’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t need to turn around to know what that sound was. It was one he was familiar with and in another scenario, it would have been his gun making that noise.

“Don’t move,” a voice grumbled. Y/N’s eyes shifted behind Bucky landing on a man with his gun pointed at the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky watched as the color drained from her face. “Drop your gun.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on Y/N’s as he raised his hands. Just because he was about to die didn’t mean she had to. He promised to protect her and as a man of his word, he would do just that. Turning the safety on, Bucky bent over placing the gun gently on the floor by his feet. “Kick it away,” the voice grew louder. Bucky could feel the barrel of the gun nudge the back of his skull.

Y/N’s heart thrashed against her chest like a trapped wild animal. She could hear the metal scrape along the tile the second Bucky’s shoe kicked it. He was defenseless.

“Good. Now you, princess.”

Y/N snarled at the name, but the man just shoved the gun further into the back of Bucky’s head. Bucky grunted; his head shoved forward from the pressure. Y/N glanced at Bucky for help. He told her to listen to him, that he would protect her. She wanted nothing more than for him to tell her what to do right now, to tell her how to get them out of it. She would do it. Instead, she was greeted with his pleading eyes. He wanted her to comply. He’d be dead in seconds if she did that. Y/N bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. A silent apology for disobeying him.

“Drop the gun,” the man hissed.

With shaky hands, Y/N raised the gun aiming it at the man. She never shot a man before and she wasn’t planning on starting today. Bucky’s words danced around in her head, better to be caught with a gun than defenseless, even if you don’t use it.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “Doll, what are you doing?”

Y/N ignored him, keeping her focus on the man behind Bucky. The sirens grew louder. If she could keep the man in a standoff until the police arrived, they would live but they would all be arrested. Her ex-fiancé was still out there, they couldn’t be trapped. He would just hire someone to take them out from the inside.

The man grew impatient, wrapping his arm around Bucky’s neck and shouting for her to lower her weapon. Y/N hesitated hearing Bucky grunt once again. His eyes pleaded once more but for what, Y/N didn’t know. “Do it,” Bucky mouthed. His right arm crossed his chest shielding his vital organs. Y/N eyes widened in horror. There was no way he was asking her to shoot him, but his arm formed a target just by his shoulder. Her eyes traced his lips as he mouthed, I trust you.

The dual sirens blaring directly outside sealed their fate. The police and ambulance arrived. Medical assistance was just outside. She hadn’t planned on shooting a man, but plans were made to be scrapped. Pinching her eyes shut, Y/N pulled the trigger. She stumbled from the kickback of the gun, her ears ringing.

A hand gripped her shoulder, pulling the gun from her grasp. Y/N eyes snapped open, breathing a sigh of relief when steel blue eyes met her own. She did it, Bucky was alive. Her eyes floated to the hand pressed to his shoulder, crimson pooling between his fingers. Oh god.

“Y/N, are you with me?” Bucky questioned, waving the gun in front of her face.

Y/N glanced at the man on the ground behind him. A bullet wound in the middle of his chest. He was dead. She killed a man. Her hands began trembling. “Hey, look at me,” Bucky grunted, his bloodied hand cradling her head. Bucky crashed his lips against hers before nestling his forehead against her own. “You did good, Y/N. I need you to listen to me. Exit out the South wing. Find Steve and get the hell out of here.”

“What about you?” Y/N wrapped her hand around his wrist. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Bucky kissed her once again before pushing her in the opposite direction. “If I don’t go now, they'll just show up on my doorstep. I’ll be out soon, promise. Now go.”

“I’ll visit you.”

Bucky smirked. “I’m counting on it.”

When Y/N was gone, Bucky groaned, plunging to his knees. He used his shirt to wipe her fingerprints from the gun before chucking it. They weren’t out of the woods yet. Y/N’s ex-fiancé was still out there. Bucky still had a job to do, he still had to protect Y/N. At the sound of footsteps rushing toward him, Bucky clasped his hands behind his head.

Flickering lights blinded Y/N as she fled the building. It had been Steve who found her first. He had whistled from the bushes the second Y/N stepped foot out of the building. Y/N winced as twigs and rocks pierced her bare feet. The second she met the threshold of bushes, Steve pulled her down, hiding her from the police.

“Where’s Bucky?”

Y/N eyed the front door as men began hollering. Guns raised, pointing at a figure exiting the building in handcuffs. Bucky. “He turned himself in,” Y/N whispered, watching as Bucky was led over to the ambulance followed by a series of cameras tracking his every move. A hand on her shoulder startled her. It was just Tony. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him out.”

Y/N nodded facing Steve. “In the meantime, we need to find Loki before he finds Bucky.”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @winterslove1917 @unaxv @hangmanscoming @globetrotter28 @athenabarnes @shara-ne @mal-adaptive-dreams @jvanilly @d3m0n8ch1ld @ppbhquinn @alysianc @firstcashheroathlete @malum-forev @missvelvetsstuff @animegirlgeeky @blue786sworld @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @alessandraavengers @ozwriterchick @nerdgirljen @emily-roberts @pandabearrrrrrr @venting402 @barewithme02 @introverbatim @buckybarnessimpp @mega-kittyglitter-1 @a-poor-gryffindork @toriluvsfics @samahenoyrhye @motivation-idontknowher @pics-and-fanfics @po55um @devil1112 @keeperofsecrets6411 @natasha-died-4-our-sins @marvel-marauder16 @sugamilkteaxkookiesxcream @mcu21lover19 @imgaybutimstraight @buckysbarne @playboystark @sarge-and-caps-princess @eviltinkerbell14 @quethekillerqueen @barewithme02 @buuuuuuucky @reader-without-a-story

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gaysindistress · 5 months

Text

Связи (n.) connections - one

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

pairings: mob!bucky x reader

Summary: “Did you think you could hide from us? That’s adorable, little one. There’s no where on this planet where you could hide from the Shostakov Bratva and even if you did manage to evade us, the Barnes Bratva would find you. Your связи, your connections, will always come back to haunt you, Y/N.”

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 2.5k

series masterlist | gaysindistress masterlist

Taglist: @unaxv @identity2212

Dreykov.

The only man who has ever gotten close to destroying my family.

Ironic considering that he was the Sovietnik to my father but that was before he took it upon himself to ensure that my sisters and I wouldn’t be able to secure a familial line for the Shostakov Bratva.

He believed that only blood could produce blood. In other words, since we were all adopted, we did not have true Shostakov blood and could not carry on the Shostakov bloodline. My father did away with that outdated rule the moment Natasha came into his life but Dreykov refused to let it go.

Frankly I don’t remember anything from that night aside from a needle stabbing me in the neck and waking up in a hospital room. My father held my mother as she sobbed over the three of us all laying perfectly still in our beds. From what Alexei told me, I’m grateful I don’t remember being given an involuntary hysterectomy. If he hadn't already, I would’ve hunted Dreykov down myself and killed him for what he did to us.

Shortly after the three of us were discharged, Alexei sent us along with our mother, Melina, to live in Russia. He claimed it was safer that way but I could see the doubt in his eyes as he lied through his teeth. I think we made it two months before there was an attack. A trio of masked men broke in at night and had grabbed Yelena and I before my father’s men got there. The one that grabbed me was shot as he carried me through the foyer but another quickly grabbed me and yet again I was drugged. I remember the muffled screams of Yelena as the third dragged her away from the banister but then nothing.

I woke up in a small cabin filled to the brim with jars and bottles of various things. Some looked like herbs while others looked like body parts. The woman who was puttering around in the kitchen turned at the sound of me moving and I swore under my breath. Before me was the woman who ran the orphanage I’d lived in for 7 years before my parents adopted me.

She explained that Natasha had arranged for me to live with her until I was of age. “For your own sake,” she’d said and I knew once again I was being lied to by the people I’d trusted the most.

After I turned 17, I found the first US embassy I could and demanded they give me refuge. I made up some story but they all knew I was lying. Even though Alexei may not have been my birth father, I was always told I was a spitting image of him. Whether or not it was the looks or the personality, I’ll never know but the embassy staff immediately jumped on the chance to bring back Oksana Alexeyevna Shostakova-Vostokova.

As I was loaded onto the plane, I asked that they call me Y/N instead. Oksana felt too close to home and I wanted…no needed a fresh start. Y/N had been a nickname Melina gave me and even though I might never see her again, I would always have her near with y/n.

I was all but dropped in NYC with some falsified documents and $5,000 in cash as well as a promise to assist the government in any way I could. The military reached out to me while the FBI pounded on my door. NYPD cops tailed me everywhere and after 3 months of a shit waitressing job, I took up their offer. Within a matter of a few months, I was working as a personal assistant to the police captain of the 99th precinct.

When I turned 21, I was sent to the academy and came back as a fully fledged police officer. Thanks to the falsified documents, everyone knows me as Y/N Polastri and I’ve been able to forget about my life as Oksana Shostakova-Vostokova. My captain, Tony Stark, is aware of my past but only because I had called him one night when I first started, scared shitless because I thought I was being followed. I ended up spilling everything to him and begged him to keep it a secret. He, of course, honored that and from there, we grew closer. His husband, Steve, jokes that I’m the daughter they couldn’t have and even had us take family pictures together. At first Tony said it was ridiculous but he can’t say no to his husband and now his office is covered in various family portraits of us.

Not a day goes by where I don’t think of my sisters or even my parents but I’ve tried looking for them. The only thing I’ve been able to find is an old Russian news article that claims several unnamed Shostakov Bratva members died in a house fire the night I was kidnapped. Aside from that, nothing.

My father, however, hasn’t shied from the limelight. His name is plastered on every police board imaginable as one of the most wanted men in America. Tony does what he can to limit it at our precinct but it would draw attention if he completely got rid of any trace of Alexei. It wasn’t until two FBI agents, SSA Wanda Maximoff and SA Carol Danvers requested our help that I realized how much trouble he’s gotten into.

SSA maximoff laid out her impressive file on him, spreading the papers across the entire conference table as she explained how he’s the largest arms dealer on the East Coast.

“We’ve been able to connect him to not only the Barnes Bratva but also to the Widows,” she’d said while still admiring her work.

I decided then to keep myself busy and do what I could to stay clear of the feds.

I’d failed my own mission miserably but how is a person expected to avoid two people that have made it their mission to find me? A part of me wondered if they knew who I was but it became clear that they didn’t when SA Danvers began flirting with me. It was subtle at first, small smiles and touches which led to brief conversations and daily compliments. She reminded me of Morgan from Criminals Minds with special attention she paid me. It took maybe three months for her to wear me down enough that I finally said yes when she asked me out.

Tony only ever asked once if I planned on telling Carol about my family and the answer was a resounding “no. They’re dead to me.”

My plan to move on and forget worked well for years. I was able to live the way I only thought possible in dreams.

That is until I see a red envelope sitting on my desk. Everything around me starts to move in slow motion as I stare at the offending object so casually sitting among my things. The usually loud precinct drowns out to nothingness and the officers mill around become blurred streaks of blue.

I approach my desk with caution and inspect the letter as much as I can without touching it. I already know who it’s from, I don’t need to look at the black wax seal or the symbol stamped into it. Taking a seat, I pick up the letter and hold it in my lap. The implications of it are swirling around my head.

He knows.

He knows who I’ve become, where I am, and I have no idea for how long.

The letter feels disgusting and heavy in my hands. I have no idea what the contents are and I’m half tempted to throw it away without a second thought but I can’t. Not when he knows my cover and I need to know why.

I peel it open and pull out the black invitation neatly tucked inside. It’s entirely in Russian and I struggle at first after choosing to never use my native tongue but one sentence is clear.

“The Shostakov family regretfully announces the death of their daughter, Natasha Shostakova-Vostokova.”

The death of their daughter, Natasha Shostakova-Vostokova.

Death.

Natasha.

Natasha is dead.

My sister is dead.

And this is how my piece of shit father decides to tell me?

A fucking letter on my work desk in the middle of a busy precinct after years of no contact?

I keep reading.

The next line is a date, time, and address. Her funeral is going to be held at the family’s estate three days from now on Friday.

I wrinkle my nose, hoping to push away the tears that burn my eyes.

She’s gone.

Nat is gone and the last thing I ever said to her was “fuck off”. Well it was the last thing I screamed at her the night Yelena and I were kidnapped. We’d gotten into a fight about stealing socks and being the rage filled kid I was, I screamed at her to leave me alone. When she didn’t, I screamed at her to “fuck off” and she did. I never raised my voice or cursed at her so I knew it would get her attention and it worked. I half expected her to knock on my door later to make up but there was only the sound of raining gunfire and Yelena’s screams.

A light knock on my desk jolts me back to reality and I frantically look around before seeing Tony peering down at me.

“You okay?” He murmurs, throwing a glance to the letter in my lap. I look between it and him before offering it up.

He makes quick work of reading it and sharply inhales as he hands it back.

“Go home,” he tells me, “pack a bag and go home to the cabin. I’ll have Steve meet you there, okay?”

I stare up at the man I’ve come to love as a father and consider his offer of safety.

“No.”

He furrows his brows at me, “no?”

“No,” I say again, “I can’t leave. If he was able to send this to me, he’ll know about the cabin and have men waiting there. Besides, it'll look suspicious.”

Tony crosses his arms, “to who?”

I throw a loom to the redhead fed who’s walking in, “use your brain, captain.”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not smart enough to figure it out. News will spread fast and I don’t want to connect the dots for her.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a loud sigh, “Jesus Christ, Y/N. You need to stop being so paranoid.”

Carol drops herself onto my desk and saves me from having to listen to any more of his lectures about my paranoia.

“Everything okay over here?” She asks as she takes a sip of her coffee and hands me one too.

“Just peachy,” Tony snarks and sends me a pointed look before walking away. He’s never really liked her but it’s gotten worse since we started dating. He claimed it was because he didn’t approve of office romances even though his own marriage had been the result of one.

“What’s his problem?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I lie and shove the letter into my bag. She makes a move to grab the envelope but I’m faster.

She goes to ask another question, presumably about my jumpy attitude but I cut her off with a quick peck and tell her that I have a lot of work to do. She looks upset with me telling her to get lost although in a nicer way but leaves nonetheless. I want to feel bad, I do, I really do but I don’t. Nat is weighing too heavily on my mind to care if I’ve upset anyone, let alone Carol.

Nat consumes my every thought. She becomes all that I can think about as I mindlessly finish paperwork and reports.

All that occupies my mind is nat.

Nat.

I should’ve known better than to show up to a Shostakov event in black. My father’s signature color is red and my eyes are burning from the way the color drips from every inch of his house. The flowers, the banners, the signs, even the gravel are all the same shade of vibrant red. It reminds me of a crayon with how bright and primary it is.

The guests are all dressed in various styles of the same primary red but I’m the only one dressed in only black. I know I stick out for the moment but as soon as I step inside, I’ll blend into the surroundings. Even out of practice, I still remember how to merge into a crowd with ease.

As I walk up the polished steps of my father’s home, I search for any familiar faces amongst the crowd but I see no one. For a brief second, I think I spot Yelena’s blonde hair but it’s gone when I look again. A man dressed in a simple black suit with a rose pinned to his lapel appears at my side, asking to take my coat. I nearly jump from his unexpected closeness but smile and hand it to him. He’s wearing an uncanny smile and it sends a shiver down my spine as he clutches my coat to his chest. I make a mental note to “forget” it when I leave out of concern he might do something to it.

A loud call sounds before me and my eyes dart to the origins. The person who made the noise can’t be seen but I know who it is thanks to his booming voice.

“Welcome,” my father’s voice ricochets off the barren walls, “my wife and I want to thank all of you for coming to celebrate the life of our daughter Natasha. Her death is a great tragedy for our family but we are Shostakovs! We are strong and resilient! We will avenge her and make her proud as she watches over us!”

Men cheer while women wipe their eyes and nod in agreement around me. My eyes threaten to roll right out of their sockets at their performative sadness. Russians aren’t known for their sensitivity and Bratvas are even worse. When Dreykov was murdered, albeit by my father’s hand, no one mourned. His daughter was whisked away to live with her mother in England but other than that, the world continued as it had before.

My father has one thick arm wrapped around a dark haired woman and the other around a younger blonde. I squint to make out their families and I gasp when I recognize them as my mother and sister. Melina looks almost exactly as she had all those years ago and Yelena…. She looks like a completely different person. Granted it’s been almost a decade since I last saw her but there’s a fundamental change in her that I can’t describe.

Her sharp eyes seem to find mine and they narrow before moving to survey the rest of the crowd. A hand brushes against my back and I snap my head to the side, getting ready to curse at whoever touched me.

The hand shifts to my hip and pulls me subtly into their side but they don’t bother to look at me. Instead they lean down and a chilling air caresses me as I recognize their baritone voice.

“Welcome home, Oksana.”

So much for going unnoticed.

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rex-shadao · 1 year

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The Lonely End of Belos

Or why Hunter, Caleb, Evelyn, Lilith, Collector, or anyone that Belos personally wronged didn't get to be the witness to his demise.

I admit, I was a bit unsatisfied with Belos' demise. After all the build up with Caleb hallucinations and Grimwalker bones, I thought he would fall into the graveyard pit, see the ghosts, and realizing all too late it's his fault before he melts into a pile of bones.

Prior to that, before Thanks to Them, I speculated on Belos' fate would be him being hunted down by an angry mob of humans led by Jacob Hopkins believing him to be some kind of cryptid monster either threatening the town... or offer a rare opportunity to get rich on the news. And then he falls apart like an animal.

And when Watching and Dreaming trailer hinted at Belos possessing the Titan, I wondered how they were going to defeat Belos without resorting to revenge or poetic irony (since Belos is this big final boss that the heroes would blow up like with the core). I thought perhaps they would turn Belos into a Palisman tree and make him give back all the Palisman he devoured in a twisted form of redemption. Perhaps they'll remind him of his past and start a mental collapse that causes him to lose control of the Titan as he sees images of Caleb. I was pretty sure Caleb would show up just before Belos dies, giving him the realization that he's damned.

But his actual demise... feels empty. He did fall apart as I expected and there's sense of loneliness in his demise, but... no Caleb. No Evelyn. Nothing hinting to his past. Heck, I don't think the name Philip is even brought up once. It feels like we've been cheated out of a cathartic demise, and I spent the hours since the special aired trying to make sense of this choice and why. Why is there no Wittebane lore.

And ultimately, I make this conclusion:

Belos refused to open up about his past. It's quite telling the Collector spilled everything of his Freudian Excuse from being bullied by the Archivists to being wrongfully imprisoned by King's Dad to his desire for friends and being accepted. Him opening up communications of his insecurities allowed Luz, Eda, and King to empathize and help him. To teach him kindness and forgiveness. To teach him the value of life through death. And through their teachings does the Collector become better and ultimately redeemed.

But Belos? We know he had a traumatic past and a lot of insecurities with his brother. We know he's a lot like Luz and the Collector when he was a child. But unlike them, he never opened up about his insecurities. He forcibly molds them into abstract ideas and rules. For the greater good of humanity. For the good of your souls. He always tries to make it non personal, thinking it makes him selfless and pure.

But what he ends up creating is a caricature of himself. A shallow representation of his former human life. The Hollow Mind portraits released this week on Twitter shows tragedy with the happy memories being free of scratches and burns. Those were the original looks. But in the actual episodes, even the happy memories were scarred and burned. As Understanding Willow reveals, if you burn the memory pictures, you essentially erase them from existence. This means that Belos barely remembers his past. Now that I think about it, Belos never actually used the word brother at any point. Just an old friend. At first, I thought he was trying to avoid triggering trauma memories regarding Caleb's murder, but now I wonder... did he actually forget Caleb was his brother?

Because if he did, then it explains why he never seem to make the connection that Eda and Lilith may in fact be the descendants of Evelyn and Caleb. He only remembers Evelyn's first name but can't remember her face or anything that would link her to the Clawthrones.

And then it hits me. Despite being the big main antagonist of the series... Belos has only one personal connection to our main trio: Luz the Human. Eda, he dismisses her as an Owl Lady outlaw who isn't important in the grand scheme of thing. And King, he thinks it's a weird dog demon, not a baby Titan. But Luz, he's obsessed with because A) she would help him learn the Light Glyph and find the Collector and B) she's the first human he has seen in centuries.

Thus, it is Luz that Belos focuses on the most. It's Luz that Belos wants to form an actual connection since Caleb's death. And when you think about those witnessed Belos' demise... Luz is the only one that Belos has any genuine interactions with. Eda, King, and Raine... they were all background pawns or obstacles, not even worth specializing personal grudges towards like he would with Lilith, Hunter, Evelyn, or even Caleb.

So in spirit, Luz is the last lifeline for redemption and forgiveness. And Belos blew it. He was so obessed with Luz due to her human status but he never gave anything about his past to her (Luz only got Belos' backstory from Masha). He assumes that being human alone is sufficient enough for speaking terms. And he choose the best looking human look for her: A non-broken nose Philip Wittebane. Just as how she saw him in Elsewhere and Elsewhen. The ideal adventurer and hero of the 17th century. He evidently forgot that this bearded Phillip destroyed Luz's respect for him. This Philip lied to her and betrayed her and Lilith. This Philip was not the hero Luz envisioned. After all, the Philip she idolized in the diaries was clean shaven. He could have chosen that form... if he actually remembers that.

And then he sloppily try to make himself sound like he's freed from a curse, sloppily using the term dark magic instead of wild magic, and taking great pains to even say that he did horrible things, even under the excuse of a curse. He has no idea on how to make himself relatable when it's all there within him deep down. He just uses the surface-deep level of relatability and Luz doesn't buy it. And the boiling rain melts away that skin deep humanity, revealing a rotting ghoul barely clinging onto life, screaming of how witches are evil and unforgivable as he crawls to Luz. Notably, he still doesn't give a reason as to why he thinks they're all evil. We all know what it likely is, but Belos never confirms it to Luz.

Belos is virtually on autopilot, repeating the mantra of humans are superior and witches are evil. He never speaks about how Caleb was "stolen" from him by a witch. He never speaks about how Gravesfield taught that witches are evil. His memories almost completely erased by his self-inflicted denial, all he can think of is wiping out witches and saving humanity. A caricature of his former self.

And by failing to swayed Luz, he's completely alone. There is no Caleb now. No Evelyn. No Hunter. No Lilith. No Grimwalkers. No Flapjack. Just Luz whose connection he tries to forge is now a shallow parody because of how much he doesn't understand her at all. But she wouldn't kill him since that would give him a known company at his last moment. Instead he meets his end by those that he doesn't even see as personally important beyond pawns. Though they have a lot of personal grudges against the former Emperor and tyrant, Belos only sees strangers at the end of in his long life.

Philip Wittebane is nothing more than a faded memory of a bygone era. He died with his brother Caleb, regulated to just folklore ghost stories told in Halloween of Gravesfield. To some, they may never really exist in the first place since 1613 is a very long time.

The creature that resembles Philip is just Belos and he is little more but a parody of a man, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

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