#honey mafia au

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 8b: Last Night

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s Bucky’s last night on your farm

Word count: 2,645

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, p in v protected sex, crying during sex (well technically after), dry humping, vaginal fingering, sweet soft intimacy, kissing

Author’s Note: This could probably be read as a stand-alone, but I’ll catch you up in case you feel confused. Bucky made a business deal to work on your farm for a month. This is the last afternoon/night of that after spending all that time side-by-side. If you’re interested in the series, you can catch up with the link below or check out the rest of the Outta Nowhere AU

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

< Prev | Series Masterlist | Next >

On the final Saturday that Bucky was at the farm, the two of you practically stayed pressed together. It’s not as if you were unproductive, but you were glued at the hip, never leaving the office for too long without the other under the guise of tying up loose business ends before his departure. You knew once he was gone, he’d have to take all his burdens back off Steve, leaving him swamped with work, unable to pay you any more attention than he did his other associates.

With your efficiency and his inability to say no to you, all ‘work’ had been completed before noon. Sure, you could’ve dragged it out, but then you wouldn’t have had time to just enjoy each other’s presence like you had gotten used to. Before that could happen, though, you presented him with one last task.

Bucky sat on your oversized desk chair with you in between his legs. His chin was tucked over your shoulder as he rubbed up and down your thigh with his ringed hand. The cool metal gave you goosebumps on your bare skin, the nice weather allowing you to wear shorts and the lack of physical labor giving Bucky the opportunity to don his jewelry once again. You ignored the way your body shuddered at his touch, instead looking back at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Okay, cowboy. I think we’ve got your first few months of shipments all planned, so now onto my last order of business.”

He cocked his head to look at you with an amused, but tentative smile. “And what might that be?”

“Pull out a pen.” You stood up and shuffled the papers on your desk, looking for a blank one and setting it in front of him. You took a seat on the other side, not missing his slight pout and confusion as to why you moved so far and what was going on.

“Now that we’ve reached the end of the month, I want to assess what you’ve learned. I’m gonna shoot questions at you, and you write your answer so we can determine whether or not you actually took in information or just followed me around and mooched off my free meals.”

Bucky laughed when you shot him a wink and happily obliged you, a sparkle in his eyes, admiring the way you were demanding something of him with a sweet smile on your face, just like the first time you met. He gave a slight nod, pen at the ready. “Alright, sweet Honeybee. Hit me with it.”

You crossed your arms and legs, watching him as you rattled everything off you could think of, from super obvious things, like which animal lays eggs, to asking nearly impossible things, like the brand of feed given to the dairy cows. Bucky’s reactions to each question were a treat, some causing him to light up with knowledge, others making him roll his eyes at your specificity.

“Last question. This one’s worth a thousand points. Write something you think will impress me. Something out of the blue, whatever’s on your mind. Anything at all.”

Bucky sat there for a moment, tapping the cap of the pen against his bottom lip in thought. You watched his playful features morph into something serious, something soft, as he scribbled one line at the bottom of the paper.

‘I wish I could stay here longer.’

You leaned forward so could read his paper upside down, scanning the answers, each one surprisingly correct. Not a single one was off and he even put more information than you’d asked for on some of them. You were not only amazed with the way he indulged your ridiculous request, but with how this whole time, he had actually been listening and watching, holding onto every word and fulfilling his side of the deal.

As you looked up from the paper and into his eyes, you could feel the warmth through his gaze even that far apart. You stood up again and Bucky did the same, coming around to meet you. It was as if your bodies were magnetic, drawing you towards each other until his one hand was on your cheek, the other wrapped around your waist as yours perched on his hips.

His eyes shifted between yours and he closed his eyes, drawing his forehead against yours before he spoke against your lips. “I’m serious. I love every moment with you. And I’m sorry it’ll have to end.”

You swallowed and let your eyes flutter closed as you leaned into his touch and nodded. “I know. But I get that you have work to do and it was already a lot for me to request you being here for so long. But just…for right now, be with me. Enjoy what little time is left of this with me. Please.” It came out as a whisper, a plea for him to remain present while he still could. You opened your eyes and looked up through your lashes to see him searching for your gaze.

He whispered back, “You don’t have to ask me twice. Say the word and it’s yours. I’m yours. And I’ll be right there if you ever need anything. Whatever you want, Honey. And right now, I’m here with you. I only want to be… with you.”

Your eyes closed again and you nestled into his chest in satisfaction at the depth of his words. You knew he was saying he would be present, but it meant so much more. For him to make a promise like that, extending beyond just business, made you feel supported, protected, embraced.

He pulled you closer if that was even possible and pressed his lips to your hairline, then using his hand against your cheek, he pulled your head so you were both leaning back enough that your gazes met before he smashed his lips against yours. It was with purpose and a new sort of urgency that you hadn’t really experienced in the slower kisses and pecks you had shared. You began to walk backwards and Bucky followed, lips attached to yours in a near-lock as your tongues danced, not unlike your feet, performing similarly to the two-step you had taught him weeks before. Your hands slid up a down his chest and began to pop open the buttons of his flannel shirt as his ran under yours, feeling the softness of your belly and tracing upwards, raising the hem of your shirt as his callused fingertips sent a thrill through you.

The two of you removed your clothing piece by piece, discarding them carelessly as you crossed through the living room and waltzed carefully up the steps, grateful Peter was out of the house for the day and helping Curtis with the weekend chores.

Clad only in underwear, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards your room, falling down on the bed as he crawled over you. His lips met yours once again as you widened your legs, allowing his hips to grind on your core. Your gasp at the sensation allowed Bucky’s tongue to explore your mouth, swallowing down each other’s moans and drawing closer and closer. Bucky pulled away for a second to catch his breath, the both of you looking deeply into the other’s eyes and panting.

His fingers traced down your side to play with the hem of your cotton panties, and you nodded, wordlessly giving him the permission he needed to pull them down. Bucky groaned at the sight of the damp fabric as he dragged the material down your legs, kissing back up your body and stoping to lovingly lick and nip at your neck as you whined and writhed for some sort of friction again.

“Jamie, please.”

He smiled and sighed at the way you begged for his touch, not used to being the one in control of anything since he’d been here, and now holding your pleasure in his hands. His fingers reached down to find your clit, dipping towards your entrance first to gather your arousal before making slow, teasing circles on the sensitive button. His soft touch set your body on fire. It had been so long since you’d been this intimate with anyone, all of your focus on the farm, and the exhaustion after a long week, not to mention the hurt from Jake deterring you from the desire for a partner.

“I’m here, I’m with you, Honey. I’ve got you-give you whatever you want. Just wanna make you feel good.”

Sensing your sensitivity and deducing how long it had likely been for you, Bucky slowly slid his middle finger through your slit, his eyes never leaving your face. He didn’t want to miss a single second of the way you nearly crumbled under his touch. Your eyes were half-lidded in pleasure as your body lurched forward at his slow, gentle intrusion, accompanied by a moan. He drank in the view, more gorgeous than he imagined you could be, back bowing at his touch. Bucky added another finger and the sensation of the cool metal against the heat between your legs was almost too much to handle.

Your legs began to shake as he slowly coaxed in a third finger, his thumb gently strumming your clit, deft fingers stretching your entrance. The feeling was overwhelming and pushing you impossibly close to an edge you hadn’t experienced in years at the hands of another.

“Jamie, Jamie it’s so much. So good. I’m so close.” It came out between hiccuping gasps as you tucked your face into his neck, throwing your arms around his muscular back and legs around his waist, pinning his hand between your bodies. You were clinging to him with your whole being as you reached your peak with a keen, pussy clenching his fingers almost painfully, but Bucky didn’t mind. He would’ve let you break his arm to see and feel the way he was wringing pleasure from the distant corners of your body right now. He continued to slowly pump his fingers against your walls, bringing you down from your high.

You would’ve collapsed onto the bed if Bucky hadn’t had a firm arm behind you, holding you to his chest where you had curled into him, as you gasped for air. You were finally able to pull your face away and look into his eyes again, his burning with desire and yours hazy with post-orgasmic bliss.

“Do you, uh, do you have a-“ Bucky’s eager nod cut you off as he pressed another sloppy kiss against your lips before slinking back off the bed and walking towards his bag in the corner of the room.

“I think so. Let me check.” Bucky hadn’t expected anything like this to happen over this month, so he definitely didn’t have a condom prepared. Perhaps his emergency one was still in his wallet, but he honestly wasn’t sure. He was pleasantly surprised to find it easily, rolling it on and coming back on the bed towards you.

As he hovered over you, you ran your hands along the scruff on the sides of his cheeks before pulling him down for another kiss. You could feel the weight of his hard length resting against your lower stomach, reaching down to stroke him gently. Bucky tensed at the sensation with a groan, throwing his head toward your shoulder and taking the opportunity to kiss your neck and down your collarbone before making his plea.

“Ride me, Honey. Need to feel you.”

You bit your lip nodding, complying with his request and moving to sit up as Bucky laid down against your pillows, right next to where you had just been sprawled out. You shuffled on your knees to straddle his hips, grinding down and letting his cock run through your folds, slick in preparation for him. You reached a hand down to perch his tip at your entrance, basking in the groan he let out at the sight. You slowly lowered yourself, the broad tip pushing your walls outward, pressure causing you to sharply gasp when he passed the threshold of your tight hole.

Your thigh muscles strained as you attempted to slowly but steadily lower yourself on his length, hyper aware of the delicious stretch of his thick cock inside you. The two of you sighed in relief as you bottomed out, nails gripping tightly into Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky held your hips as you adjusted to him, careful to not squeeze too hard from every time your tightness choked his dick. He fought the urge to throw his head back against the headboard, wanting to keep his eyes on you and where your bodies were connected. The sight of you splitting yourself open over him nearly made him come on the spot, but he tightened every muscle in his body again, trying to resist the urge. He only had one condom, after all, and he wanted to drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He could see it on your face and feel your body start to relax as your nails gently scratched over his tattooed chest. You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and dragging a whine from both your lips. Your speed picked up, his hands continuing to guide you, finding a smooth rhythm that pulled moans, grunts, and gasps out of the two of you, until just like before, Bucky could feel you clenching again. He lowered his one hand, thumb finding your clit and rubbing tender circles, leading you both barreling towards a shared peak. Your hips stuttered and wavered with exhaustion, but Bucky continued guiding you with his firm, strong hand.

“C’mon Honey. You can do it. I can feel you’re close. Let go for me, sweet thing. Please. Come with me.” His voice was gruff, dripping with desire.

Your hands ran down the muscles of his torso and squeezed against his abs, nails digging in slightly. You used your last bit of energy to nod your head and urge him to help you along. Bucky planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting in tandem with the grind of your hips. You leaned down for a final kiss, wanting to be ever closer to him. As he gave into the gesture, it felt like everything hit you at once along with your shared orgasm: the sweet, tender moment, the reverence and respect he was treating you with throughout, and the fact that you didn’t know if it would ever happen again or if you’d see him after tomorrow.

Bucky came with a deep, but soft growl beneath you as he stroked your hair after you’d pulled away from his lips and tucked yourself into his neck again. He sat there, letting you cling to him for a second before he felt the unexpected wetness against his shoulder. Tears has started streaming down your face, and when Bucky caught a glimpse, his look was similar. Jaw clenched with water in his eyes.

The next morning, it was time for Bucky to go. The two of you had arranged it so you could have one last drive to the gas station together where you’d be meeting Gio.

Bucky convinced you to let him drive your truck for a final time, and you agreed, easily giving in to his request. He drove with the windows down, radio low on the dash, and one hand on the wheel. The other rested on your thigh while you clutched the arm attached to it against your chest and rested your head on his shoulder. His cheek was pressed against the top of your head. Bucky’s callused thumb made small circles on your skin as the breeze blew through the cab, paired with the warm glow of the early morning light, sun shining on your time together like it always had.

Next >

Bonus A/N: All this writing and this is the first time I’ve done smut for Bucky. I hope you enjoyed, I’d love to hear what you thought from a comment, reblog, or ask!!!

Series Taglist: @mrsnikstan @scuzmunkie @openup-yourmind @vicmc624 @hawkeyes-queen @blackhawkfanatic @morgthemagpie @buckybarnessimpp @calwitch @thesarcasmqueen-22

[lyranova]

Omnes Sumus Peccatores: Love is Rich with Both Honey and Venom

Chapter 3: Secretive Friends and Tactless Foes

Hiya guys! I’m sorry this chapter has taken a while, I’ve had a lot going on IRL that’s kind of pulled me away from this and my other works, but hopefully I’ll be able to post more regularly! Not much happens in this chapter, it’s more of a set up for the next one. But I hope you all still enjoy~!

Word Count: 3,682

Warnings: Language, Mention of Weapons, Canon Typical violence, typical Mafia AU Tropes!

————

The Next Day

William looked up from his desk as he heard a quick knock on his office door, he muttered a quick “come in” and glanced up to see Langris walking through the door.

“ Good morning Langris,” William began as he looked back down at his papers. “ To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“ Good morning sir,” Langris greeted back as he walked up to the desk. “ I just got an important message from one of our clubs.”

William stopped what he was doing, set his pen down, and leaned back in his chair.

“ An important message? From whom?” He asked with a slightly raised brow, and he watched as Langris pulled out a piece of paper from the inside of his suit jacket and handed it to him.

“ Apparently…it’s from a member of the Equinox Exchange Network named Theia.”

William paused, this note was from the Equinox Exchange Network? The multi-billion yul company? That Equinox Exchange Network?

He took the note from Langris and opened it, but what was on it made his eyes narrow; it was an address to a luxury hotel and the number of a conference room.

“ From what the club manager said, the person from the Equinox Exchange Network said that they would like to make a deal with us and that they’ll be waiting at this hotel’s conference room until 1 p.m. this afternoon.” Langris explained.

William stared at the note intently, his eyes looking over it multiple times with a degree of suspicion and hesitancy.

It was very well known that the Equinox Exchange Network was very…selective about who they worked with; after all, that’s how they’ve been able to fly under the radar for so long, they worked with very few people, and it was extremely difficult to contact them to make a deal.

So if they come to you asking for a deal, you don't say no.

William’s hands traced the paper; if this was truly a letter from the Equinox Exchange Network, then there would be a raised yet invisible seal somewhere…

And just like that, on the bottom right corner of the paper, was the distinctive Equinox seal.

This note was legitimate.

“ Sir, what do you want to do?” Langris asked after a moment, his body still as he waited for ‘the King’ to tell him what to do.

A soft sigh escaped him as he placed a thoughtful hand under his chin; while he was still hesitant and suspicious of the person behind this letter, he couldn’t help but also be intrigued and curious at the same time…

“ Well, we’re going to meet them of course,” William said as he leaned forward and rested his arms on top of his desk.

“ But sir, you have a meeting with the Blue Roses and the Black Bulls this afternoon,” Langris pointed out. “ So how are you going to meet them and the Equinox Exchange member?”

An irritated sigh escaped William as he suddenly remembered his previous plans; there was no way he was going to be able to attend both meetings, which meant that he was going to have to send someone in his place.

“ I’m going to have to send someone else to the hotel,” William eventually said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“ I can go to the hotel while you and Alecdora meet with the Blue Roses and the Black Bulls?” Langris offered, but William shook his head.

“ No, I’ll need the two of you with me,” He quickly said as he began to lightly drum his fingers against his desk in thought.

Langris hummed as he began to think.

“ What about Neva? Wouldn’t it be best to have a high ranking member of the family go to the meeting?” He suggested even though he and Neva didn’t get along.

William frowned a bit.

“ Neva and Yuno are on patrol for the next couple of weeks, so they won’t be going. However,” He began as he placed his hand under his chin again. “ You have a point, it would be best to send a high ranking member of the family to meet them.”

Now it was Langris’s turn to frown.

“ But, if you’re not sending Neva, then-?” He began to ask, but as if right on cue, a knock on the office door echoed through the room and it slowly opened to reveal Zera, William’s fiancé, on the other side.

“ Good morning,” She began as she walked into the room. “ Is something wrong?” She added with a worried frown as the two stared at her.

“ We’ll send her,” William said as he slowly stood up with a warm smile on his face.

Langris’s head snapped in William’s direction, his eyes wide in shock, as Zera stared at her fiancé with a confused expression.

“ What?!”

“ Huh? Send me where?” Zera asked in confusion as she looked from William, to Langris, and back again.

“ Sir,” Langris began, completely ignoring Zera’s question. “ We can’t send her! This meeting is too important to be sending a novice to!”

“ Uh-.”

“ Zera isn’t a novice, Langris, she was born and raised in this world. She knows how it works even if she hasn’t done any of it herself.” William pointed out as he crossed his arms.

“ Um-.”

“ But, sir, she knows how it works in theory, not how it works in practice! That would be like saying I was born knowing how to drive because I’ve been around people who know how to drive my entire life!” Langris said with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“ Hey-!”

“ Are you saying that she isn’t capable of doing it?” William asked, his own gaze narrowing sharply.

“ No, sir, I’m sure she is capable of it…but I also think we should send someone with more experience-.” Langris began, but was quickly cut off by ‘the King’.

“ Zera does have experience talking people into things, don’t you dear?” William asked as his purple eyes looked away from Langris and towards his fiancé.

But instead of answering, she just stared at the pair…and she stared…and stared…before she slowly opened her mouth.

“ I’m not sure whether I should confirm or deny those facts considering I have no idea what we’re even talking about!” Zera pointed out, her voice raising more and more as the sentence went on.

Both Langris and William winced, glanced at each other, before William took a breath.

“ We just got word that a member of the Equinox Exchange Network wants to meet with us, but unfortunately I won’t be able to make it, so we’ve decided to send you to meet with them in my place.” William told her, his warm smile returning to his face.

“ What?” She exclaimed in surprise, but before she could say anything else Langris chimed in.

“ But sir-!” He tried to argue, but he instantly closed his mouth as he saw the serious look in William’s eyes.

“ I’ve made my decision, Langris.” He stated firmly, his voice leaving no more room for discussion or arguments.

Langris’s eyes widened, but he slowly nodded in agreement.

“ Yes, sir, then…I’ll leave you to it.” He said before he gave him a small bow and walked out of the office, quietly closing the door behind him.

William walked around his desk and up to her.

“ Sorry about that,” He apologized softly as he stood beside her. “ Langris is just being extra…cautious since it’s a very important meeting.”

Zera nodded hesitantly.

“ I get it. But to be honest, I can’t blame him,” She admitted with a small laugh. “ If this meeting is so important then why don’t you send him or someone else? Why are you sending me?”

“ Because I think this would be a good opportunity for you to get your foot in the door on the ‘business’ side of The Family, instead of just the medical side.” He told her as he reached out and took her hand in his.

“ And, I’m also sending you because I trust you, and my gut is telling me that you’ll be able to make this deal out of everyone else.”

Zera blinked in surprise.

“ Don’t you think you’re putting a little too much trust and faith in my charm and abilities?” She asked with a small laugh, but William shook his head.

“ I don’t think so. I mean, you were able to charm me and convince Dante and the other Families that you and I were a couple when we weren’t, so I’m confident that you’ll be able to pull this off as well.” He told her confidently as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

A slightly forced smile appeared on her face as she nodded again.

“ At least one of us is.” She muttered under her breath, which made him tilt his head.

“ What did you say?” He asked, but she quickly shook her head and waved her hands in front of her.

“ Oh, nothing, nothing! I just said I’ll be going now, since I have to get ready to meet this person,” She told him with a sheepish laugh and began to back out of the office. “ I’ll see you later!”

As soon as Zera was out of the office she quickly closed the door behind her, walked up to the opposite wall, and gently hit her head against it.

How the hell was she going to pull this off?!

Meanwhile, back in William’s office, as soon as he sat down he pulled out his cell phone and called Langris.

“ I’ve already begun printing up all the information we have on Theia, sir,” Langris said as soon as he answered the phone. “ And so far…it’s not looking too good sir.”

A worried hum escaped William.

“ Okay, bring it to me as soon as you can.”

————

Meanwhile, driving around Clover City

Yuno looked out the window as he and his new partner, Neva, drove slowly through what was commonly referred to as the “Party District” of Clover City.

There were various clubs, bars, restaurants, and other establishments in the area; some businesses were honest, some were just fronts for the various Mafia families that controlled them.

The ones in this particular neighborhood were controlled, or protected, by the Golden Dawn Family.

“ I’m assuming you’ve already done this before?” Neva suddenly asked as she drove slowly through the slightly empty street, dodging people that were either on their way to work or on their way home from a long night of partying.

Yuno glanced over at her before looking back out the passenger window.

“ Patrolled? Yeah, I’ve done it before.” He replied simply as he rested his chin against the top of his hand.

“ I see..so that means you’ve also collected due’s as well?” Neva asked curiously as she turned the car down a side street and towards an empty parking lot.

A small frown worked its way onto his face as he glanced back over towards her.

“ ‘Dues��?” He repeated in slight confusion as the platinum blonde haired girl nodded.

“ Yeah, today’s collection day; it’s where we go to the various clubs and pick up the money they’ve made for the last month, as well as a portion of what the other businesses made too.” She explained as she pulled into the empty parking lot.

Yuno’s frown deepened.

“ So, we’re not only collecting from the businesses we own, but from the ones we don’t own as well?” He asked as he turned to fully look at her.

Neva simply nodded as she began to park the car.

“ Yep. We even collect dues from the ones we don’t own as well.” She confirmed without looking at him as she put the car in park.

A quiet scoff escaped Yuno as he rolled his eyes slightly; of course they took ‘dues’ from honest, hard working people…they were a Mafia Family, and their protection didn’t come for free…

Taking from the rich who had more than enough money to spare was fine by him, but taking from people who were just trying to make a living and were only just managing to scrape by? That didn’t sit well with him at all…

“ I can’t wait until I find my father’s killer so I can leave this place,” Yuno thought with annoyance as he heard Neva turn the car engine off.

He just had to hang on a little longer…

“ Ready?” Neva suddenly asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Yuno quickly nodded and followed her out of the car.

The pair began to make their way down the street and to the various businesses owned by the Golden Dawn.

First on their list were the various luxury clubs they owned, their most famous one was called “Doré Lounge” or “The Golden Lounge”. It was one many celebrities, rich businessmen, and politicians partied at.

It was the Golden Dawn’s most profitable business. Well, second most profitable business; their most profitable one was the business they ran in the shadows behind all the glitz and glamor of the luxurious nightclubs:

Their high end weapons business.

Yuno didn’t know much about the weapons business that the Golden Dawn ran since he was still pretty new, but from what the other members of The Family told him the weapons they bought and sold weren’t your average weapons that just anyone could buy…

The weapons they bought and sold were military grade weapons that only the richest of groups, Families, and individuals could afford.

“ Here’s this month's earnings, Diamond,” The manager suddenly said as he came from the back room of the “Doré Lounge”.

Yuno blinked as he was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts, and his amber eyes focused on a large, black duffle bag in the other man’s hand.

“ That’s it? It looks pretty light.” Neva said skeptically as she took the bag from the manager.

The man shrugged.

“ Eh, business has been a little slow lately,” He replied as he rubbed the back of his neck. “ But don’t worry, you can tell King that there’ll be more in it next month since I’ve got reservations for lots of big parties!”

Neva nodded slowly as she weighed the bag in her hand, and after a moment of deliberation she slung the bag over her shoulder.

“ Alright, but don’t let it be this light again, otherwise…we just might have to hire a new manager.” She told him seriously as she turned around and began to walk out of the club with Yuno following silently behind her.

The man behind them suddenly began to laugh.

“ It’s good to have you back Diamond,” He said as he continued to laugh. “ We love having you around here, so why don’t you try to not beat up your new partner like you did the last one, yeah?”

Neva waved her hand to signal to the man that she had heard him, but Yuno paused and a frown appeared on his face.

Her last partner, she beat him up? Why? And was that really the reason that William sent her overseas?

“ Hey, newbie, are you coming?” Neva called over her shoulder, pulling Yuno out of his thoughts.

He quickly caught up to her, and the pair walked out of the club and down the street.

They walked quietly side by side for a while, neither one really saying a word as they dodged and maneuvered around the various signs and people that were on the street.

Neva sighed under her breath as she could feel Yuno’s eyes steadily glancing over at her, why on earth did that manager have to open his big freaking mouth?!

“ Is there something you want to ask, newbie?” She asked as she came to a stop and turned to the side slightly.

Yuno stopped and turned to look at her.

“ No.”

Neva’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“ Really? So you’re not at all curious as to why he said I beat up my last partner?” She asked as she placed a hand on her hip.

Yuno shook his head.

“ No; because I assume if it was something I needed to know, you would tell me, right?” He asked before he began to walk back down the street.

Neva stared at him in surprise as he walked away; he wasn’t curious at all? Not even a little bit? That was a little…strange, in her opinion.

She began to walk a little faster to catch up with him.

“ So, you’re not even a little bit worried that the same thing could happen to you?”

Yuno suddenly stopped walking and turned to face her; it was an honest and fair question to ask, but it still took him by surprise.

He stood there and looked at her for a moment, his mind going back and forth as he tried to settle on an answer, and once he finally did he opened his mouth to reply.

But as he did, the sound of items crashing to the ground along with a loud shout echoed down the street.

Yuno and Neva turned towards the commotion and saw an elderly man lying on the ground, and a group of younger men wearing dark suits standing around him.

Neva’s eyes narrowed sharply and she quickly handed the duffle bag to Yuno before rushing over to the group.

“ Hey assholes, over here!” She suddenly shouted, drawing the group's attention away from the older man and instead to her.

As she grew closer she jumped up, landed a flying kick to one of the men's faces, and landed firmly in front of the old man.

“ Well look who it is, it’s the Golden Dawn’s troubled child, the Diamond Princess!” One of the men laughed, causing the others around him to chuckle.

Neva rolled her eyes before placing a hand on her hip.

“ And look what we have here; a group of bottom feeders thinking it’s okay to encroach on the Golden Dawn’s territory and harass the local businesses that are under their protection.” She spat back at them before she turned around and crouched down to help the elderly man stand up.

“ Are you okay?” She asked softly, ignoring the man’s angry shouting behind her.

The old man nodded.

“ I’m fine,” He began before he softly gasped. “ Diamond, look out!”

Neva quickly looked over her shoulder and saw the angry man from earlier standing over her with a metal rod in his hand that he was swinging with the intent to hit her on the head.

“ Dammit, there isn’t time for me to dodge…and even if there was, the old man would end up getting hit instead!” Her mind shouted as the world seemed to go in slow motion.

She quickly closed her eyes and threw herself in front of the old man so that he wouldn’t get hit, but as she waited for the impact of the metal rod, she frowned when she heard it hit something else instead.

Neva slowly opened her eyes and they widened when she saw the black duffle bag situated between her and the metal rod. Her gaze shifted to her left, and she saw Yuno standing there using the duffle bag as a makeshift shield.

Using his weight, Yuno swung the bag forward, which caused the other man with the metal rod to fly backwards and into the others.

“ What the hell?!”

“ Attacking an old man and a young woman just because she called you a bottom feeder is only proving her right, y’know.” Yuno said as he stood in front of Neva and the old man as though he were protecting them.

“ You should go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, unless you really want a fight that you’ll certainly lose.” He told them as he dropped the duffle bag onto the ground beside him.

The group of men looked at each other for a moment before they began to laugh hysterically.

“ You think you can beat us in a fight? You must be crazy!” One of the men shouted before he began to laugh again.

“ Hey kid, you’re either dumber than you look or you’ve got balls of steel to be going against us by yourself!” The man with the metal rod laughed. “ Why don’t you join us instead? We could use someone crazy and fearless in our group!”

Yuno stared at him blankly.

“ Not a chance.” He replied immediately, causing the group's laughter to die as quickly as it started.

The men looked at each other for a moment before looking back at Yuno.

“ Then, it looks like we don’t have a choice but to show you why no one refuses to join our group and live to tell about it!”

But before the men could even take a step forward, Yuno rushed towards them and swiftly began to take them out one by one.

Neva and the old man watched in surprise as he landed quick yet precise punches to the men's bodies that knocked them all out cold.

“ No wonder William gave him the name ‘Ace’, because he truly is one.” She thought as she watched him knock one last man out with a direct punch to the jaw.

Yuno quickly fixed his suit jacket as the men on the ground groaned in pain; he hadn’t meant to hit them that hard, but he really hated it when people picked on others that were weaker than them, and when they tried to fight dirty.

“ Not bad, Ace,” Neva said as she walked up to him with one hand on her hip and the other behind her back. “ There’s just one thing you forgot…”

Yuno watched as she pulled what appeared to be a gun from behind her back, and when she pulled the trigger he watched as a pair of wires shot out from the end, flew past him, and hit something behind him.

He slowly turned around to see one of the men he thought he had knocked out earlier standing above him with a wooden plank in his hand. The man stiffened up before quickly falling to the ground as Neva hit the trigger on her taser.

“ Never turn your back on the enemy.”

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[sweethoneyrose83]

Pomni was watching closely, she was trying her best to contain this intense jealously and possessive desire. Watching them swayed together made this burning feeling grow even more, she didn't move from her spot. Seeing another man touch her made her feel so angry, as she continues watching them. Pomni was still watching, she felt relieved when she pulled away from the guy, but she was still very jealous, she watched her walk away, trying to fight off the possessive desire that grew, it's growing, she doesn't want to hold back anymore, she felt the strong craving to just wrap her arm around her waist and pull her close to her.

Pomni watched her, making eye contact, she was tempted to walk over to her, but she stayed where she is, not moving yet.

Inwardly, Pomni smiled when she saw her smile, but her expression stayed blank, as she watched her, the jealous desire grew more intense, it's so strong. The burning desire was now getting hard to resist. Pomni made her way toward her, though she tried to act so casual, trying her best to hide her intense jealous, possessiveness, and crave, she stood a few inches away from her. Pomni couldn't help but look at her, especially that dress, her attention is on her body for a moment, she didn't even try to hide the fact she was staring, she was really possessive right now.

Pomni watched her as she leans in, her attention is now on her as she looks at her, she doesn't lean away as she watches her, the burning desire grows more intense inside her, she bit her lip a little bit.

"How are you enjoying your night?"

"I'm..I'm enjoying my night...how about you?"

Pomni is still trying to hide her possessiveness, but she can't fight off temptation, she looks over her, observing the dress she's wearing, and how the dress hugs her.

" It's quite boring honestly…" She said with a sigh.

"Huh, boring?..well then..maybe we can make this more..interesting?"

Pomni spoke, as she bit her lip a little, trying to hide possessiveness, jealousy, and temptation.

"How so?" She says continuing to drink her wine

"You..know..maybe..we could do something fun.."

Pomni spoke, she was tempted to hold her, but she tried to hide the temptations, she watches her drink, as she bit her lip, trying to control herself.

"What kinda fun~?" She smirks looking at Pomni.

Pomni bit her lip, as she looked her up and down, her face turned slightly red, she was really tempted to hold her, wrap her arm around her waist

"You..know..kinds of fun, maybe a little..risky fun"

She giggles and stays close to Pomni.

"..so what do you say?..want to have some fun, just the two of us?"

Pomni watches her, as she wants to hold her, pull her close, she was tempted to touch her, feel her, pull her close, hold her, she was desperate to do just that.

Trivia wraps her arms around Pomni's neck "I love a little risky fun~"

Pomni can't help but grin a little bit, as she felt her wrap her arms around her neck, temptation, and desire grew even more intense inside of her. The burning feeling of possessiveness grew stronger, she wanted to hold her, she was tempted to grab her around her waist. She didn't, but the temptation was getting harder to ignore.

[sonikkublue]

Is there any characters that we haven't met from the mafia au yet? Like, is there a Rouge or Jet that's yet to be introduced?

Rouge

Honey the Cat

Chaotix

Robotnik

Metal Sonic (he is still a maybe)

Uncle Chuck

all these characters ive listed are characters yall have not seen visually, and sum u havent even heard of yet (till now ofc HFJKS) i do feel like im missin a couple characters, but I'll make a post abt it (hopefully visually) just listin all em

[sweet-chimera]

Wowee-- two au/costume doodles for the price of one

[teddy-feathers]

SO

I'm writing if it kills me.

fair warning this is in first person.

Walking through the park, carrying two bags laden with groceries on one arm, while Rus carried the other one... it was easy to forget why he was here.

That he was after only one thing - Edge.

It was easy to walk and talk with him under the dappled light spilling in from the trees to paint light and shadows on Rus' oh so pretty face.

Easy on the eyes, yes, but worse - even easier on the heart.

Oh no Protests the rational part of my mind, but my heart beats a steady yes, yes, yes, in its cage.

May the angel forgive me, I've gone and fallen for the handsome PI.

I hadn't made a conscious decision to stop walking, but I found myself still and Rus half turning to see why. "what's up?" He asked, his voice as always smooth where Edge's was harsh.

My heart was overflowing with its revelation - revolution that it had fought for really - and I wanted to share it, make it clear how I felt.

There was just one problem - he was still significantly taller than me. There was no way of casually planting a kiss on his cheek to make my feelings clear.

"Can I see your hand for a minute?" My odd request came as much of a surprise to me as to him, but with the eay my heart was singing, I had to do something to let him know how I felt.

I'd rather die than just come out and say it though.

"sure?" He says, shifting his bag to one arm and offering me his left hand. I take it in mine, cradling his fingers into my palm and brushing my thumb against his knuckles. Then, before warmth could be replaced with nerves, I bowed my head and placed a kiss along those knuckles.

Looking up slowly, I release his hand and meet his stunned gaze. A delicate haze of orange dusts across his face, and he takes his hand back slowly.

"oh. aren't you just precious." He says in a breathy tone, and I can't help but smile, the caged bird of my heart singing louder in my chest.

[polarwooly]

Various au doodles I decided to refine. Ukko is a noisy sleeper, a great cuddle-buddy on the road, and also definitely going to eat bread off the street.

[thegirlnextdoorssistersdiary]

Oh my 😳

Sharing Is Caring 🌶️🌶️ { Mafia!AU Joel Miller x Reader x Javier Peña }

{{ Several people asked what would happen if mafia enforcer Joel and corrupt agent Javi existed in the same universe. Then several others suggested the reader should be in a sandwich between them. I’m personally inclined to agree. This is the result. There’s no plot; it’s just smut. }}

CW: 18+ only / smut / language / age gap / degrading talk / unsafe sex / oral sex (m!receiving) / threesome / proceed at own caution?

This fic is for @joelsgirl xoxo

——

You’re more than aware that you’re in a dangerous position. Both these men could kill you, think nothing of it, and bury you in a shallow grave somewhere. Hell, nobody would even bother looking. Except maybe the other.

You had never meant to become caught between two men who had more than enough hate and rivalry between them already. Two opposing sides of one coin; a corrupt DEA agent, and the right hand man of the local mafia.

And then there’s you. You serve drinks at a club they both frequent. Dance when you feel like it. Flirt with whoever catches your eye. In this instance, it’s gotten you in a whole load of trouble, with two dangerous men who don’t want to share you.

Too bad, because you’re not entirely sure you want to choose between them.

You were Joel’s first, one of his girls, his favourite. Then Javi got to you, fully intending on interrogating you for information about Joel’s criminal dealings. Only to end up fucking you senseless on the floor instead.

They don’t play fair, and their hate for each other is clear as day, but where you’re concerned? They’re willing to compromise.

It’s intoxicating, knowing you have so much sway over two men who could destroy you without blinking. You don’t take advantage of it, toeing a fine line to keep yourself safe, but you refuse to choose a side.

Which has led you to this situation, pinned between two men who hate each other, who at any other moment would be pointing weapons and trading insults. Brought to a stalemate by their mutual need for you.

You can’t ever say you don’t have power in this life.

The resemblance between them, physically, is startling. They could be brothers, even if Joel is older. Both attractive as hell. Both dangerous. Both fucking incredible in bed.

Joel’s mouth trails kisses down your bare throat, finding a spot he likes before he bites down, sucks a mark into sensitive skin.

“Possessive, much, Miller?” Javi almost drawls it, his accent thicker than usual as he watches, his fingers tracing circles on your hips. He can’t talk; he can’t keep his hands off you, grinding his still clothed cock against your bare ass.

How is it that you’re completely naked and neither of them have taken off anything more than their coats? You suppose it’s only fair that they at least manage to conspire against you for something.

“Reminding her of her place.” Joel doesn’t even bother looking at the other man, licks the mark he’s just left on you.

“Pretty sure she knows her place.” Javi lays a light slap to your ass. “It’s right where she wants to be.”

Of the pair, he’s the least likely to underestimate you. Has a feeling you’re in this situation because you want to be, that in spite of everything, you’re the one in control here.

Joel hates that he agrees with his rival, makes a somewhat grouchy noise of agreement, gives a noncommittal jerk of the head.

“If by that you mean on her knees or on her back with one of our cocks in her, I’m unfortunately inclined to agree.”

You love how they talk about you, like you’re not there. Like you’re just an object for their pleasure. Even more delicious is the way you’re literally pressed between them, Javi grinding against your ass, Joel against your cunt, neither of them trying to disguise how much they want you.

“Definitely.” Javi wraps his hand around your hair, makes a fist in it, turns your head so he can kiss you. It’s not a sweet kiss, not really, more rough and needy and possessive. Like he’s proving a point.

Maybe he is, but Joel doesn’t comment. He knows this alliance is only temporary, doesn’t want to tread on Javi’s toes too heavily. The agreement formed, the bribes and the information passed between them, is as delicate as a house of cards, and you’re the foundation.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss him off, just a little, to see the way you lean into the agent, lips parted, moaning into his mouth. He doesn’t like seeing you so fucking needy for anyone else, even though he’s never officially decided you’re his.

He shouldn’t fucking have to. Everyone else gives you a wide berth, knowing he’s about two steps behind you, possessive and silent as a shadow. Apparently that menacing act doesn’t apply to Javi, doesn’t stop him from throwing down a challenge.

You know you should - theoretically - make a decision, but you’re selfish, and why not admit it? They’re both dangerous, sexy, and you love that they fight over you.

Joel’s rough, scarred hand cups your bare cunt, sliding two thick fingers into you. He’s not playing fair, but it’s immensely fucking satisfying to know that this time, when you moan into Javi’s mouth, it’s because of him.

The latter lets you go, and you get about twenty seconds to breathe before it’s Joel who drags you in, tongue sliding into your mouth and licking against yours in rhythm with his fingers inside you. He can feel you dripping down his knuckles, feel how eager and needy you are, not just for him, but for both of them.

“Such a good, obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Joel removes his fingers from you, turns your body so your back is to his chest. “You’re going to be a good girl and suck his cock now.”

If it wasn’t such a damn good idea, one that benefits him, Javi might have had a dig at Joel for calling the shots, but, well… you’ve got such soft, warm little hands, so eager as you look at him with big doe eyes as you unzip his jeans, pull his hard cock out and stroke it gently.

He hadn’t been so sure about getting you on your knees on a bed between the two of them, but well…

“You just want her pussy first.” He says it anyway, rolling his eyes at Joel.

You bat your eyes at Javi as you settle into a comfortable position, on your knees, your ass pressed against Joel, flick your tongue out to give the tip of his cock a tiny lick.

“We both know you like fucking me when I’m full of his cum.”

He’s not even going to protest that. There’s something immensely filthy about it, about sliding his cock into your tight little cunt after Joel’s used you, fucking a mixture of all three of you deep into you.

Besides the point, you choose that moment to wrap your soft, soft lips around his cock, taking his entire length into your throat, humming softly at the taste of him.

Behind you, Joel strokes himself slowly, watches you for a moment. Waits until you’ve pulled back, teasing the other man by sucking just the tip of his cock to line himself up with your dripping cunt and slam in to the hilt.

The momentum pushes you forward, forcing you to take far more of Javi’s length into your throat than you were prepared for, but to your credit, you don’t choke.

“That wasn’t very nice.” Javi smirks, dark eyes glittering with sadistic amusement as he surveys Joel.

“Fuck off.” The older man rolls his eyes, rough hands on your hips, holding you in place. “She can take it.”

You feel a surge of pride at that, at how well Joel knows your limits, knows what you can handle. He’ll never admit it, but a small part of him cares about you, beyond the physical and sexual aspects of things.

He starts to move properly, drilling his thick cock deep into you, letting the force of his thrusts push you forward, helping you take Javi deeper into your throat, drawing groans from both men.

It’s beyond empowering, knowing that you’re responsible for this, for the sounds they’re making, for the way you can feel Javi’s thigh shaking as you suck on him.

Joel doesn’t relent, not for a moment, slamming into you hard and fast, making you scream around Javi’s cock, knees shaking. Joel’s hands on your waist hold you up, but eventually Javi has to place your hands on his hips to give you something to hold onto.

They’re both rough, relentless, and you love it, feeling every inch of both of them, every slap Joel lays to your ass as he slams into you. He won’t last much longer, he knows this much. You’re too tight, too wet and needy for him, and the sight of you drooling over his rival’s cock is doing… questionable things to him.

Even worse - better? - when you tighten around him, moaning around Javi, cunt soaking his cock drilling into you, giving him more ability to get deeper and deeper inside you, fucking you through the intensity of your release.

He’s close and he knows it. He knows it, you know it, and so does Javi.

“Gonna cum in her already, old man? Can’t say I blame you, she has the tightest cunt I’ve ever seen, but damn.” He’s lazy in his taunting, in the way he’s rocking his hips into your throat, enjoying the way you work your tongue around him, the way your doe eyes are watching him, half rolled back from the feeling of Joel fucking into you.

“Thought I told you to shut the fuck up.” Joel almost growls it, but he doesn’t argue beyond that. He’s too close, you’re too tight, tiny little cunt milking his cock like you were made for it.

Leaning down over you, he pulls you up, away from Javi, crushes your back against his chest as he slams into you, grinding in deep and staying there.

“Such a good fucking girl, so fucking tight for me, such a sweet little pussy, gonna fill you up so good…”

It’s a string of filth that trails off into senseless growls as he slams you down onto his cock, drags another orgasm out of you as he holds you in place as he fills you, hot thick ropes deep into your aching, fluttering cunt.

He stays there for a moment, wants to be selfish, but it’s not all about him. He wants to see you overstimulated, sobbing and begging and needy for the both of them. Still, he’s a little reluctant to release his hold on you, pull out of your heat, idly watching as some of his release drips out of you onto the bed.

Joel likes you on all fours, or riding him, but Javi is the opposite. He likes you pressed beneath him, likes the feel of you under him. Once Joel releases you, he pulls you against his chest, kisses you again before dragging your legs out from under you, pinning your body beneath his.

You don’t even get a chance to react, not really, breath leaving your lungs as he nudges your thighs open with his knee, tosses one leg up over his shoulder before he slams into you, every inch of him sliding in at once, made easier by the slickness of your need and Joel’s cum.

He’s big, and it should hurt, but you’re so wet and needy that it doesn’t, barely stings. The position he has you in isn’t particularly comfortable, but it lets him get deep, lets him lean down and devour your mouth in hungry kisses whenever he feels like it, which is often.

You won’t admit it, but you love how he has such a fixation on kissing you, on nipping at your lips. He doesn’t need you to admit it; he can see it in your eyes, feel it in the way you kiss him back, hook your free leg around his waist as he pounds into you.

Joel lazes back on the bed, watches you with mild interest. You’re so responsive to both of them, but in different way. That’s almost reassuring. That you don’t respond to them both in the same way. That there’s a difference. He doesn’t know why it calms him, makes him less jealous, but it does. He knows how you are with him, and that’s good enough.

Instead he reaches out to stroke your hair, caressing softly as Javi drags his cock out of you, slams back in, over and over until you’re delirious from the pleasure of it, cunt tightening around him.

“That’s it, querida, take it,” Javi soothes you as he drills into you, fucking you hard and fast, sitting up, tossing your other leg over his other shoulder, getting rougher, more erratic.

Joel leans in, kisses you to muffle your screams as you tighten, pulse around the cock buried in your cunt. Your release is what drives Javi straight into his own, over the edge, hands on your waist tight enough to bruise.

“Fuck, baby, so fucking good…” his hips piston against yours, burying himself to the hilt and staying there; you’re so over sensitive you can feel every inch of his cock throbbing inside you as he fills you, adding his own release to the mix inside you, overflowing, dripping out down his cock onto the sheets.

You’re an absolute mess. Beyond a mess. Shaking, trembling on the bed, back arching as you try to recover. Javi gives you a moment, trying to breathe himself, before he pulls out of you, admires the mess he’s made. Joel shifts to take his place, pulling you gently against him, your head in his lap.

“Fuck, should take a picture.” He mutters to himself, surveying you a bit longer before he rolls off the bed, zips his jeans up.

“Won’t stop you.” You answer sleepily.

“You might not, but he will.” Javi nods over at Joel, who’s still idly playing with your hair, having already fixed his own pants a while back. “Ain’t that right?”

“That’s right.” Joel runs his hand along your side possessively; the game is over now, and he’s no longer interested in sharing you. He tolerates this because you want it, but he has no interest in letting Javi get cocky.

“Didn’t think so.” Javi grins, loops his coat over his shoulder, digs a packet of cigarettes out the pocket and lights one. You watch him, still dazed, as he slides his shoes back on, cigarette dangling from his lips.

He crosses back to the bed, drops the end of the cigarette into the ashtray on the side table, then leans down to kiss your forehead. Mostly to piss Joel off, but also because he wants to.

“I’ll catch you around, Miller.” He crosses the room, to the door, turns back to give you a brief fleeting look before he’s gone, closing the door behind him, leaving you nestled in Joel’s arms, and any resentment he may have about that with you.

[thedarkdisgrace]

Imagine an AU where everyone saw in black & white until they met their soulmate, then they saw colors for the first time.

Cue Dazai being kicked into a wall & upon opening his eyes the first colors he sees are within flaming red hair & piercing bright blue eyes. A green jacket hugging the kids figure as his foot remains planted on Dazai’s chest.

Chuuya sees stark white bandages across one eye and beneath an ill fitting white dress shirt. Dark chocolate colored locks. One honey brown iris with flecks of maroon shining in the sunlight. A black coat lying beneath him.

They both freeze for a moment, staring intently at each other, eyes blowing wide at colors they've never seen before.

Then they make eye contact, holding it for one beat, then two.

Then slowly it dawns on them what this means and, of course, their expressions move from awe to irritation. They bicker immediately, neither of them willing to give into fate.

Chuuya scoffs. "Oh fuck no, no way my *soulmate* is some shitty kid from the fucking mafia."

"How eloquent. As if such a tiny, brutish *slug* could ever be *my* soulmate." Dazai mocks in return.

Bonus points if the colors fade when they’re not together, until they accept they’re soulmates that is.

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

��W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next >

Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

[sincericida]

@liz-allyn , so good for me to have you back!

But... Poor Honey, she is broken again and again, turns over. How is she able to survive all this!? And why not: poor Peter... But I have to say, I really like that between Peter and Honey, the cards are on the table, they both took their guilt.

John fucking bastard piece of shit Walker, I loved how your day ended!

I must confess: there were times when I had to take a break from reading, because it was difficult for me. I will not dwell on this, not to produce spoilers.

Lizzy, you are fucking awesome! And for those who were complaining about the plot development: 🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽

I’ll be here waiting for the band-aid for so many pains... And, I didn’t know who would be the perfect M Honey J 😉 for the S&V cast, but I finally found out - knowing her name inspired me:

She's perfect for me!

sugar and vice, pt. 20 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader-oc]

summary: no more running. no more cages.

words: 10.7 k

chapter warning: heavy chapter warnings for S&V John Walker (it's a warning), SA, death, violence, gore

series warnings: mob-typical bang bang violence, hurt/comfort. Spicy smutty situations. spousal abuse. family trauma. Drug use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't know these TWs by now, then don't go here.

Back to Part 19.

Note: your comments and notes keep me alive, but please be careful to use section breaks and spoiler tags!

Part 20

Once when she was a little girl, she cut her baby sister’s nails. She had to. It was something that their mother would have done—should have done—but she hadn’t been home in several days. Her older sister had the most experience, but she was stuck working a double shift. Rebecca had been sick with a cold for days, and Selena was just a toddler. 

After all, it was her job to look after her younger siblings.

So that left Honey in charge. 

Poor Gabriella. The infant couldn’t stop scratching her face. Red lines marked up her round cheeks like tiger stripes. Honey knew if any of the children had too many marks, people would start to notice. Then something bad would happen, her mother assured her. People would come and take Gabriella away.

She tried everything to prevent the baby from digging her tiny claws into her own skin. She tried rolled socks as makeshift mittens. She tried using a bath towel as a swaddle, but that turned out to be an awful idea once the infant realized she was stuck and didn’t like being restrained. 

By contrast, being tied up wasn’t something that ever bothered Honey.

The obvious solution was to trim her nails. She had to. It had to be done. They didn’t own a pair of nail clippers, Honey knew that. But it was on her to fix things. She was in charge. So she took a pair of kitchen scissors and tried her best. 

After that, she was never okay with the sight of blood.

It used to bother her tremendously. She’d become agitated for a few days out of every month. Her other sisters would joke about it. ‘She must be on her period.’ They were right. 

As a teenager, the smallest knick from shaving her legs in the shower would send her into a dizzy spiral. Over time, it got better. John changed that.

Mrs. Walker became an expert at cleaning up blood. She learned to ignore the smell or at least put a dab of Vicks beneath her nose to block the stench. 

The only helpful thing she learned in high school chemistry was how blood cells expanded when coming in contact with warm water. Thus, her teacher told her, cold water was best for removing blood stains. 

“You know. In case you ever have to hide a dead body.” 

It was a joke. Until it wasn’t.

John changed that.

She sat on the tiled floor of her bathroom, shoulders slumped and expression blank. Now, it was impossible to get rid of the blood on her hands. She could strip off her clothes and burn them, but she felt it on her skin. She could shove an entire eucalyptus tree up her nose, but the scent would linger.

She was stained in rust colors, starkly contrasting the pristine ivory of her bathroom. Silently, she gazed at how the blood crusted on her skin, following the ridges of her pores like brush strokes in oil paint. The cotton hoodie and joggers she’d been wearing were soaked through. There had been so much carnage and death she didn’t even know whose blood she was wearing.

Helen’s. Johnny’s. Her own, probably. Blood from ‘that’ guy, whose scalp was torn off.

Eddie’s blood.

All that was left of his life stained her skin. She should be nauseous by now. She should be at least a little woozy. But, instead, the thought of just washing him away made her want to die inside. 

She would wear it, then. Needed to wear it—she had to. On her arms and face. On her neck. On her chest, like a scarlet letter. Irreversably stained.

Is this what it means to be desensitized to gore? 

Indeed, she felt nothing at all.

What happened, happened. The Bunker was in shambles. It would take months to repair. Would have if Peter hadn’t instructed them to burn everything left.

Every piece of incriminating evidence, every tool at their disposal, and every chapter of their history was on fire underground. Nothing would be left, no matter when the fire department showed up. Johnny had re-routed the gas lines years ago. With the flip of a switch, everything would go up in flames. Nothing could be salvaged. It would be an empty cave filled with useless, charred artifacts from an irrelevant time.

On second thought—she considered—that’s what she felt.

It was as good of a description as any.

After that morning’s attack, she was dropped off at the Penthouse. Peter would follow soon after, they told her. She shouldn’t wait up.

She had limped into her bathroom to clean off the remnants of the massacre. There she remained, for over an hour. Couldn’t get up off the floor. Couldn’t force herself to get in the shower.

At this rate, she may never be clean again.

Her eyes wandered to the smartphone beside her, tucked near her thigh. 

John’s phone.

This was the weapon that killed Eddie Brock. 

The second she had entered her room, she pulled the cursed object out from the box spring. She wanted to hand it over quickly so that Peni could analyze it. Could... study it, or whatever it is that tech nerds do. Honey would do anything to fix things.

But nobody cared about the phone. It was as good as a gun without bullets. A time bomb, two seconds too late. It was of no consequence.

She picked up the smartphone, glaring down at it with contempt. Sticky red fingerprints covered the cracked screen. Her blood. Their blood.

Eventually, she came to a stand. Then, bitterly, she dropped the phone into the toilet bowl, submerging it in water. 

Peter was finally home. But it didn’t feel like home.

His home was on fire, riddled with bullet holes. Just like the home he grew up in.

He stood before the full-length mirror in his wardrobe and wiped the blood stains away with a damp, pink-tinged towel. His flesh was now rubbed raw. The cotton fabric felt like sandpaper against his tender skin.

The obvious solution was to take a proper shower. But he didn’t have time. He only needed to get enough blood off to pass in broad daylight without someone calling the cops if they saw him. He wouldn’t get very far if he looked like an ax murderer.

With all the rage he held inside, an ax was unnecessary. Overkill. And yet, not enough ‘kill.’

He had redressed in clean clothes, wearing a pair of midnight-navy trousers with creased edges that were sharp enough to cut. He paused midway through buttoning a crisp, white dress shirt, momentarily taking in the gruesome sight of himself. 

His torso was a canvas splashed with deep purples and reds, stretched over a frame of broken ribs and pinched nerves. His eyes rested on the delicate box chain around his neck, which held two gold wedding bands near his heart.

Ben and May’s wedding rings. Tarnished. Stained with blood.

He quickly reached for the towel.

Minutes later, he carefully shrugged on a matching double-breasted blazer, wincing as he pulled it over his shoulders. Every part of him felt broken, in every possible way. But physical pain hadn’t stopped him yet, not when something more important was driving him.

He regarded his reflection with tight lips. He didn’t wear this jacket too often. It was a tuxedo cut and hung looser than he was accustomed to, making his frame appear boxy. A little too retro, maybe. 

Perfect for concealing weapons. After all, he was dressing for a funeral. 

His skin prickled. He was familiar with the sensation. He recognized it instantly, like an earthy scent before a rain shower. Honey’s reflection came into view as she approached the doorway behind him.

The sight of her covered in blood made his stomach clench. He reminded himself that it wasn’t all her blood, and only then did the tension in his chest release. But not entirely.

“Thought you were getting some sleep.” Peter’s tone was flat. His eyes flicked back to his reflection as he tugged on the lapels of his blazer. 

He didn’t say it as a question; rather, he stated it as an expectation.

She stared back, unfazed, wearing a stone expression. “What are you going to do?” 

Similarly, it wasn’t a question. More like a demand.

He briefly glanced at her before returning to the mirror. His jaw set firmly. “You don’t wanna know.”

She marched into the room. “You’re going after John. I want to help.”

“Help me?” he repeated with a scoff. “I don’t think so.”

Her forehead creased, offended. “Look, I can help—”

“Just what do you think is about to happen right now?” he snapped. He squinted his eyes, turning on his heel to face her. “Ya think we’re just gonna pull up on ‘em and that’s it? Ya think he’s just sittin’ around at home watching TV?”

“No,” she said. Her tone was unwaveringly resolved. “I think he’s expecting you to come after him.” 

“No shit,” Peter sighed with frustration. “I’m expecting to be expected.” He fixed a stern gaze on her, tension pulling at his vocal cords. “Only difference is I don’t care if he knows I’m comin’, or how many cops are in my way. There’s only one way this ends, and it ends bloody. And you don’t want any part of it.”

He brushed past her and stomped towards his bureau. Her eyes followed each movement, crackling with lightning bolts. “Fuck you, telling me what I want!” she hissed. “This is my mess, too!”

He pivoted toward her. “And what, ya think killing him is gonna fix it?” His face went grim, sorrow etched into his features. Remorse welled in the bottom of his eyes. “Think it gets easier after that? Ya think it’ll make you somehow feel better—?”

“I don’t care about feeling better!” she barked back. He neatly flinched at the sharpness of her tone. Fury bubbled beneath her skin. “The only thing I care about is that he suffers.”

Peter contemplated her for a quiet moment. “Well,” he said, voice soft. His melancholy briefly overshadowed his rage. “You don’t need to worry about that.” 

He didn’t meet her eye. Instead, he studied the grain of the wood beneath his feet, letting his shoulders deflate. He looked beyond tired, deep lines creasing his features and flecks of gray in his beard. Yet, when he lifted his chin, his eyes were resolute. He arched his path to avoid her.

Unsatisfied, she trailed him with fire in her eyes. “How will you know where to find him?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Who’s going with you?”

“Stop asking questions, Honey.”

She grasped him by the shoulder and yanked him around to face her. “Jesus Christ! The phone is gone, you unbelievable asshole! Do you really think I’d tell anyone—?”

“You’re not getting involved,” he stated firmly.

“Not involved? Are you fucking serious?!”

“Too many people have already gotten hurt.”

“Holy shit,” she blanched, freezing in place. Her eyes widened in horror. “You’re not telling the others, are you?”

He paused, for eons, she thought. Peter tried to keep his face neutral, but it was useless under her scrutiny. His eyes were ablaze with stubborn resolve, lips in a line. He turned his back and continued down the staircase.

Blinking rapidly, she watched him walk away. She felt dizzy, but not from weakness. Instead, rage pulsed through her veins, each blood cell embedded with fear. She rushed after him, hot on his heels. 

“You’re going in alone?” she growled, her nose crinkled. “That’s your fucking genius plan? Go in, guns blazing, and hope you don’t get yourself killed?!”

“I have no intention of getting killed,” Peter said. “Not unless I’m taking him with me.”

His reaction enraged her further as they approached the base of the stairs. “Who does that work out for, huh?” she spat. 

Ignoring her, he marched on. Peter spotted one of the guards standing watch outside his office door. “Rollins!” he ordered, voice booming. “Bring the car ‘round.”

“Yes, sir—”

“Rollins, don’t you dare bring the car around!” she commanded, blocking Peter’s path and skewering him with a defiant glare. It was as if she dared him to move her. His dark eyes flashed angrily as he clenched his jaw. He looked as if he was considering it.

Rollins stared at the two of them, back and forth. Frozen with indecision. 

Enraged by his sudden hesitancy, Peter’s nostrils flared. He shot a dangerous glare at the guard before glancing down at the young woman with ire. 

He lifted his gaze back to his man, narrowing his eyes. “Rollins...” Through gritted teeth, his guard’s name sounded more like a declaration of war. 

Rollins sprang into action. “On it, sir.”

As his guard disappeared, she kept her feet rooted to the floor like a mythical beast guarding a castle. She breathed flames from her mouth and conjured curses and plagues with her gaze.

“You asshole—you’re in such a hurry to kill yourself!” she said viciously. “Who for, huh?! You think this is about the others? For Miles? You’re not doing this for us, Peter! And you’re not doing it for Eddie, either!”

“You’re damn right, I’m not!” he snapped indignantly, jabbing his finger into his bruised sternum. “I’m not doing this for anybody but myself!” 

Heat radiated from him in waves, like steam from a hot spring. He bent his neck, leering over her. Volume dropped low, his voice thickened into a threatening rumble. “If I were doing this for Eddie,” he said, “I’d make ‘em watch me kill everything he ever loved, ya feel me? ‘Course, I highly doubt you were ever on that list, so you’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”

She barked a bitter laugh. “So this is, what, payback? Your stupid, dick-measuring way of defending my honor?”

“This isn’t about you, Honey,” he said, dark as night. He leaned down until his lips were inches from her forehead, eyes as cold and sharp as a jagged iceberg. “If it was—knowing what I know now,” he added breathily, “I promise you—it wouldn’t be anything like this.”

A misleading smirk formed on his lips, betraying the brutality staining his thoughts. She felt the heat of his rage in each whispered word. 

“No,” he said, deathly grave. “For what he did to you—I would keep him alive for as long as I possibly could.”

The unabashed, murderous smile on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. Her discomfort didn’t faze him this time. He didn’t care how scared she was of him. If anything, the more afraid she was, the better.

“He’s a disease,” Peter ranted, directing his frustration back towards himself, “that I’ve allowed to spread. He’s a threat to everything I give a damn about! And I will not let him hurt somebody else I lo—”

Blinking, he cut the sentence short, just millimeters from a leap he wasn’t willing to take. She stared intently up at him, unaware that she was holding her breath.

He pursed his lips, eyes heavy with regret. He looked away, avoiding her gaze while he composed himself. Finally, he took in a slow, tense breath. “I need to do this, Honey,” he whispered ruefully. He had calmed slightly, swallowing back his rage. 

The only thing left behind was a tiny, heartbroken remark. “It’s the only thing I’m good at.” The corners of his mouth turned down sharply. 

She didn’t hesitate. “Even if that were true, you don’t need to do it alone.”

He shook his head in frustration. “Why are you so desperate to know what it’s like to kill somebody?”

A vicious yell burst out of her mouth. “I already have killed somebody!” she shouted, as if it were obvious. Her voice echoed off the walls while anguish pooled in her eyes. “It’s my fault Eddie is dead! I know it is—”

He shook his head again. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine—”

“Of course, it’s your fault!” she roared. “It’s both of our faults!” 

The comment stunned him, only slightly less than the bitterness of her tone. He snapped his mouth closed, taken aback. 

Despair twisted her face, and anger lit up her eyes. “Don’t you get it?” She was green with sickness, spitting out words like they were poison. “This is what he does! He turns people against each other!” 

Peter stayed quiet as he observed her intensity. Her feet were rooted while her whole body raged, “He turns you against yourself! He twists you up until you can’t even trust your own instincts! Until you hate yourself enough to feel like you had it coming!”

A dam had broken, and a river of acid spilled through her lips. Resentment from years of abuse writhed in her chest like a tsunami, threatening to flood every street in New York. Her fingers itched to wrap around the collective necks of the city and drown it in her devastation.

She pointed at Peter, eyes flashing furiously. “You’re willing to get yourself killed because you feel responsible for every bad thing that’s ever happened!” She jabbed her thumb back at herself. “I’m willing to suffer in silence because I feel responsible for every bad thing that’s happened!”

“Meanwhile,” she added, with a livid hiss, “John Mother Fucking Walker—who is actually responsible for all of this—feels Nothing. At. All!  Because he is a fucking psychopath!” 

Peter blinked, contemplating her in silence. Her firm eyes narrowed on him. “That’s how he beats us, Peter!” she exclaimed. “Fear! Guilt! That’s how he wins!”

The frustration in her voice reverberated off of the walls, sending a tremor that penetrated the bedrock. Peter observed her, stoic save for the sorrow in his gaze. 

Her chest heaved as unshed tears dampened her lashes. Exhausted, she sighed heavily. “I am tired of letting him win,” she said in exasperation. She was more composed but no less grave. “And if you think you’re gonna do what I think you’re gonna do—which is go after him alone—then that’s exactly what will happen.”

Peter’s eyes glistened, red-rimmed and raw. His silence stretched on forever until she was nearly inclined to  choke him for a response. Eventually, he simply bowed his head, casting his eyes down.

“What if fear and guilt are the only things I have left?” It was a meek, feeble reply from someone so powerful. She blinked up at him, watching as he chewed on his lower lip. “Wish it wasn’t that way. I wish I had—” 

He stopped, leaving the thought unfinished.

“Doesn’t matter what I wish, does it?” he said. “Doesn’t matter what coulda been.”

A crease formed between her brows. Her face softened. “Peter—”

“Just let me say this, please,” he blurted out with urgency as if the words would claw their way from his chest. “I need to.” She regarded his desperate gaze, and eventually, she bobbed her head gently.

He gazed down at her. His lower lip twitched for a moment. “I had my suspicions about your past,” Peter explained mournfully. “Knew something bad happened, but... bad shit happens to everyone, though. First, I thought it was your mother. Then after Pym, I... I figured it was some old boyfriend, some jerk who treated you like trash.” 

Her face flushed red. When she looked back at him, his glazed eyes were fixed on her. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. With shards of glass on his tongue, he murmured, “I-I didn’t know... wh-what he—”

“I don’t blame you, Peter, if that’s what you think—”

“I didn’t wanna know,” he firmly replied, silencing her. Guilt weighed down his features. “Didn’t wanna ask, if I’m bein’ honest.” He gulped, nearly choking on his words like a razor blade stuck in his throat. “I was afraid of what I would do if I knew the truth.” 

She felt warmth sting her eyes, tears budding at the corner of her lids. 

“I thought, I guess—” Peter’s voice tremored before he pressed on. “I-I thought I could save you. From what, I didn’t even know. Maybe that was my mistake all along.”

He raked his fingers through his hair, eyes heavy with shame. “I was so stupid. I’m the one that let him in. I let this act—this dance between us—I let it go on.” He sniffed with a bleary gaze. “He played me against me,” he declared with finality. “My fear. My doubt, self-hatred—whatever you wanna call it. Whatever voice in my head that tells me... th-that you... You could never love somebody like me.”

She flinched at that. Her resolve to remain stoic buckled under her feet.

His eyes dropped to his feet. “I told myself this was just business, and that if the Feds could use you, so could I.” Vulnerability poured from his eyes as they met hers. “I pretended it didn’t kill me every time you looked me in the face and lied.” 

Despite his apology, her stomach twisted with shame. 

“And each time it happened,” he explained, “I couldn’t figure out what they had on you. Something awful, I figured. Something that scared the shit out of you.”

Peter looked at her somberly, lower lip wobbling and eyes dark with regret. “I thought it was me.” 

Her face crumpled at his admission, grief seizing her at last. She bit down on her lip to keep a sob from escaping. 

“It’s like he already won,” he said, with a broken soul. “I thought I was the one he wanted.” He sniffed, peeking down at her through wet lashes. Deep, raw heartache thickened his voice. “Turns out, it was you all along. And I led him straight to you.” 

Her vision flooded with tears at his admission. It sounded like a confession from a dying man. After a few gut-wrenching moments, Peter lifted his chin and met her eyes, resolved. “That’s why I’m doing this without you, Honey. This is my mistake to fix.”

Overwhelmed with grief, she stared up at him in a daze. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gently shook her head to protest. 

“I’m sorry, Peter,” she said. It sounded like a eulogy.

His eyes glistened as he nodded, love and loss in their depths. “Me too.” 

He gazed at her, the coffee color of his irises shining bittersweet. She stared up at him in adoration and agony. She debated whether she should wrap her arms around him and cry or kiss him dizzy. 

He paused, letting his eyes linger, then turned away and trodded down the hall. “I’m gonna fix this, Honey,” he said. “I promise. You’re free.”

Perplexed, she darted after him. “Wh-what—?”

“No more running, no more cages,” he resolutely replied. She followed closely as he approached the oak doors to his office. “Won’t hafta be afraid of anyone comin’ after you. Not Fisk. Not me. And not some asshole ex. ‘Cos win or lose...I’m ending this. Tonight.”

She fluttered her lashes with concern, following him blindly into the room. 

“Why wait?”

Honey stopped short in her tracks like her feet had been fused to the floor. Peter froze. Swayed dizzily. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck didn’t just prickle, as they had been since the beginning of their conversation. It inverted, the sensation feeling like his skin had peeled off and been turned inside out.

John Walker coolly watched them come to a sudden stop. He lounged back casually in the executive desk chair with a devil-may-care expression and his leather oxfords up on the tabletop. Stunned, they stared at the lithe man with growing alarm. The icy blue of his eyes twinkled with delight at their fear, fixing them with a Cheshire smile. 

“Why don’t we do this right now?” he shrugged nonchalantly.

Each bruised muscle in Peter’s body went rigid. In a matter of moments, he was hit with a surge of emotion that he barely managed to contain beneath his skin. Pupils dilated, fingers shaking, heart pounding—fury washed over him, and all Walker had to do was smile. 

Over the sound of blood rushing, Peter registered the fluttering palpation of her heart.

His Heart. 

His Honey.

She was terrified. 

It reminded him of the moment she walked in on the meeting between him and “Steve,” only this time it was worse. 

An arctic chill surrounded her from the ice running through her veins. She paused mid-breath, rendered motionless, eyes wide with horror. For a moment Peter worried if she would ever start breathing again.

His palms began to tingle. He kept his attention straight ahead, while he fought between the urge to comfort her and the visceral need to tear John’s face from his skull. 

Before he could do either, another warning sensation—sharp and jagged, like his name being carved into a chalkboard with a steak knife—sliced through his brain.

After having been suppressed, ignored, and nearly incapacitated by the Symbiote, his senses were in overdrive. Every cell in his body alerted him to impending danger, which came in the form of footsteps.

He turned quickly, dragging Honey behind his back, as he laid eyes on the new threat. Three of his guards, Malick, Ward, and Rollins—fucking Rollins—stepped into the room. Ward and Malick were vigilant with their weapons drawn, but Rollins sauntered at a leisurely pace. He glanced over at his boss, unworried, and a malicious grin widened his lips. 

Peter’s shoulders slumped as he realized that their bullets were meant for him. He frowned sourly, betrayed. “Jack,” Peter coldly muttered, hiding his disappointment beneath the threat in his tone. “Wha’cha up to?”

Rollins simply shrugged. “Sorry, Boss,” he smirked. “‘S’just business.” 

Peter’s eyes darkened as he observed Gideon Malick aim his pistol at Honey, while Grant Ward slammed the office door closed, locking them in. With Rollins drawing his sidearm, three guns were now trained on him and the shaking woman behind him. 

Peter couldn’t see her face but didn’t need to. He could feel her fear radiating through his fingertips. Her body became both lighter and heavier as if her bones had turned to water. He sensed her increasing dissociation, barely tethered to the Earth and dangling at the end of his reach. Only terror cemented her feet in place. She was sluggish as he pushed her closer into his back as if he could somehow hide her there.

“I have to say, Pete,” John called to him matter-of-factly. Peter split his attention between his backstabbing guards and the monster seated behind his desk. “At first, I was impressed with your organization. But it seems like you have a few serious issues with staff retention to sort out.” John spoke with a self-satisfied smirk, kicking his feet off of the desk and coming to a relaxed stance. “You should think about setting up a meeting with H.R.”

“Believe me,” Peter glowered at John, briefly glancing at Rollins with clenched teeth. “It’s a priority.”

John took an unrushed stroll to the front of the desk before leaning back on the corner’s edge. He moved through the office as if it was his home. It was unnerving for Peter to consider how many times he might have been there without his knowledge, with his treacherous guards granting him access to anything he wanted.

“‘Course, I always thought you shoulda gone into human trafficking,” John said, with a mockingly sincere tone. A crease split Peter’s brow, his face twisting with revulsion. “You would’ve made a very lucrative pimp.” 

Peter glared at him, disgusted, as he chuckled softly at his own joke. The laugh faded, as did the humor in John’s ice-blue eyes. They narrowed with contempt, looking beyond Peter to the trembling girl behind him. 

“Lord knows you got the world’s biggest whore right behind you,” he sneered maliciously. “With a mouth like hers, you’ll get anything you want. If you throw in an extra five-thousand dollars, of course.”

Peter felt her bristle at the jab, and he reached back further to steady her. 

“Don’t look at her,” he ordered coldly, never breaking eye contact. “You don’t get to look at her. Ever.”

The blonde snickered, licking his lips scandalously. “Oh, I’ve done a whole lot more than just look.” 

Peter’s jaw tensed at that. 

John’s humorless gaze turned into a cold glare. “I don’t know if you’ve heard,” he added vindictively, “but that’s my wife you have behind you.”

Despite his own outrage, Peter kept a straight face. He listened intently, studying how Walker’s nostrils flared and how his pulse sped up at the sight of the couple embracing. 

Good, he thought. He needed every second of time he could get. 

Peter took a step backward with her, slowly approaching the wall. 

His eyes lightened, and a callous smirk formed on his lips. “You mean that’s ‘your wife’ I’ve had beneath me,” Peter sneered lewdly. 

The remark splintered beneath John’s skin. Peter watched with satisfaction at how the blonde’s brow twitched. He could smell the agitation leaking out through his pores. 

“Yeeaah,” Peter chuckled mockingly, fueling John’s anger. “She told me all about you. Short story. If ya catch my drift.”

Peter took another step backward, bumping her along, teeth flashing with amusement. “In fact,” he parried, matching John’s sardonic tone, “maybe you should talk to a doctor about your little problem. You know, instead of torturing women.” 

John glowered with his lower lip curled. “Well. Since we’re sharing.” He tilted his head with a predatory grin, while his eyes shot daggers at them. “I wouldn’t trust everything she says. The girl’s a freak. She tell ya about all of her filthy rape fantasies, too?”

Her breath hitched. A tiny shiver racked through her body. It was barely noticeable to the other men, but to Peter, it felt like a tectonic movement. He could hear the way her stomach shifted, her nausea roaring in like a rising tide. 

“She likes it rough,” John snarked. “It’s practically the only thing that gets her off. Pretty fucked up, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask you.” Inwardly, Peter seethed, resentment darkening his gaze.

“‘Course not. Why take my word for it?” John laughed, having momentarily taken the upper hand. He glanced around at the other traitors mirthlessly before turning back to Peter. “Why don’t we just find out for ourselves?”

Peter’s anger spiked at the insinuation, rage stuttering his heartbeat. He watched as John glanced at Rollins and the other men with a menacing grin. Cruel laughter trickled from the traitors that made his blood boil further.

He took a measured breath. “I know you boys don’t know me that well,” Peter remarked calmly. “But lemme be very clear.” He slid his eyes over and leveled a threatening glare at the men behind Rollins. “Anyone touches her, and I’ll send ya back home to your families in garbage bags.” 

Peter’s men dropped their smiles suddenly. He heard a stutter in the heartbeats coming from that direction as they attempted to suppress their reaction. “Don’t take my word for it,” he said directly to Rollins with a murderous gaze. “You know what I’m capable of, Jackie.”

“Is that what you did to Gwen?”

Peter’s anger spread through him like epinephrine as John carelessly spat out his deceased wife’s name. His shoulders tensed, and the cords in his neck pulled tautly. 

“You send her back to her daddy in a body bag?” John snickered. “Sure—Call me a shitty husband. But at least my wife never took a swan dive off of the Brooklyn Bridge.” 

The fresh swell of rage in Peter’s belly twisted him into knots. A gentle press from a tiny palm on the middle of his back was the only thing that anchored him. 

“Oof. Hit a nerve, did I?” John grinned with satisfaction at how the color drained from Peter’s eyes and complexion. “What else did you two lovebirds talk about?” he said. “She tell ya about our little talks late at night?” He grinned salaciously. “Lotsa juicy stuff.”

Peter swallowed hard, unflinching. 

“She told me everything,” Walker continued. “Her plan to seduce you. To pretend she cared about you. How much she despised you.” John tilted his head, musing. “How’d you put it, Peach? You could ‘never love a monster like him’?” 

He heard a soft gasp from behind him. As strong as their resolve was, the remark punctured its armor. Honey clenched the fabric of his jacket, her touch pleading for forgiveness. Steadfast, Peter took another careful step backward, keeping her close.

“‘Course, that’s no big surprise,” John continued ruthlessly. He could see through Peter’s indifference, knowing each word cut into him like a jigsaw. “‘Everyone that ever loved you is dead.’ Ain’t that right?”

Honey gripped Peter’s shoulder tighter, a swell of nausea creeping up her esophagus. Her vocal cords were paralyzed, with nothing but a whimper escaping her lips. “No...” she muttered breathlessly, stunned and enraged by the twisting of her words.

“Poor, pitiful Peter Parker,” John said in a sing-song voice. “Sad, psychotic little orphan boy. No mommy. No daddy. His aunt and uncle both turned into swiss cheese.” He punctuated each word with viciousness, spitting them out like curdled milk. “Clinging desperately onto the memory of his dead whore.”

Nostrils flaring, Peter glowered at John, dipping his chin. Another step backward nearly had the woman behind him up against the wall, backing her carefully up to a marble-top bar. “Gloat all you want, asshole,” Peter mumbled with disdain. “She still dumped you.”

John’s eyes flashed red with a serpentine hiss sliding off his forked tongue. “And yet, I’m the one that finger-fucked your girl while you were on your little date! Greedy slut was wetter than a swamp when I touched her—”

“Liar!” she screamed, voice cracking like shattered glass. 

She lunged forward but Peter blocked her. He practically shoved her back, her spine hitting the edge of the bar. A chorus of chuckles erupted, with Rollins, Ward, and Malick joining in on John’s amusement. She stumbled backward, using her hands to steady herself until she came in contact with a metal object on the bar top.

A camera.

Peter’s old camera. On top of the box disguised as a book.

Both items were out of place. 

Presented out in the open, where they shouldn’t have been.

Honey’s eyes darted back up to the front. 

“S’okay, Honey,” Peter muttered, his glare still trained on Walker. He held his arms behind his back as if to hide her from view. It formed a ‘cage,’ concealing her movements as she stealthily shifted the camera, keeping her eyes forward. “The longer this clown talks, the more desperate he sounds.” 

John’s eyes flashed with malice. “Oh, you wanna hear what desperate sounds like? How ‘bout I push your little bitch off the roof, huh? Have your men make you watch me turn another woman you love into Humpty Dumpty. She’ll be runny eggs on the sidewalk in a matter of seconds—”

“Why are you all still smiling?” Peter sharply cut him off. He shifted his glare from John to his snickering accomplices. “Is it ‘cos you're scared? Or are ya just that stupid?” The laughing ceased immediately as Peter fixed John with a cold gaze. “Either way, you’re about to be a dead man.”

With her hands behind her back, she blindly fumbled to lift the lid of the box. Her fingers scavenged across the bottom, expecting to find a weapon of some kind, or a knife, or perhaps even—

“Lookin’ for this?” John said. The bang of a gunshot deafened her. 

A splatter of wet, hot liquid covered her cheek and she flinched at the sound of an agonized cry. She screamed. At the gunshot. At the blood. And at the sight of Peter dropping forward to his knees in excruciating pain. 

“No! No! No!” 

She could hear her own shrieking in the distance as she grasped at him. Groaning, he writhed in agony. His hand, once again bloody, clutched a bullet hole piercing his upper right shoulder. She threw her already-stained palms over his, adding his blood to the fresco decorating her flesh.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. Lip wobbling, she glanced up with wide eyes as John pointed Peter’s pistol at them menacingly. 

“Did ya really think I wasn’t gonna search this place for weapons?” he scoffed in offense, glaring at them through slitted eyes.

Nostrils flaring and teeth clenched tight, Peter breathed through the pain. He scowled up at John feeling like a flaming sword had severed his arm at the shoulder. His heart hammered as he watched John raise the pistol again, this time aiming between his brows. 

“Please, don’t!” Honey sobbed. “John, please! I’m begging you!” She wrapped her arms around Peter as if she could shield him. 

The smile faded from John’s lips. Contempt radiated from his blue eyes, turning them into blackened sapphires. “C’mon, Peach. We both know you can beg better than that.”

Peter shoved her away from him, jumping to his feet. He charged and knocked John’s aim off target. Another shot rang out and pierced the wall next to her. 

Shrieking, she dropped to the floor and cowered down. 

With one bloody hand on John’s wrist, Peter smashed him in the abs with his injured arm. He put his back muscles into the punch, snarling as the bruised flesh burned like his body was on fire.

His rage partially numbed the pain as Peter advanced forward. He shoved John back into the desk. The injuries made each move sluggish, but Peter managed to land another hit, this time to John’s face. With his other hand clenching the gun, he slammed it into the tabletop, loosening John’s grip. With another vicious whack, the weapon fell from his hand and clattered out of reach. 

Amped with adrenaline, Peter reared his uninjured arm back. Balling his fist into a cannonball, he drove it down hard enough to break through concrete. 

Right into John’s palm.

He blinked, stunned. Looked up at John. His face twisted with confusion, as the supposedly weaker man grinned smugly up at Peter. 

“Oh, yeah,” John smiled with red teeth, slowly crushing Peter’s hand like an empty aluminum can. “And then there’s that.”

With a flick of John’s wrist, he inverted Peter’s arm and tossed his body like a garbage bag. Peter collided with the wall and toppled to the ground, sending plaster and drywall raining down. 

John straightened up, taking labored breaths as he adjusted his light blue collar, now dotted with tiny spots of crimson. He fixed Peter with a wry smile. “I know about your little science experiments, too,” he smirked. “Your buddy Eddie stole the outdated model. Say ‘hello’ to Anti-Venom.”

John rolled his shoulders, tipping his head to crack his neck. As his joints popped, he rolled his eyes back into his skull—literally. Honey gaped with horror as she watched her ex-husband grin at them with a demonic stare, pure white engulfing his eyeballs. The milky, opaque clouds in his eyes seemed to part in the middle, like a crocodile opening an inner set of eyelids, revealing the dilated pupils of his sadistic stare.

Peter struggled to get on his hands and knees as John stalked towards him, feet heavy with malice. Honey screamed with almost no breath, “Peter, look out—”

In a flash, John was on him, jabbing his elbow into his back. Peter gasped at the stab to his spine, feeling another rib snap. The force slammed him chest-first back to the floor. With dazed eyes, he glanced blearily at the secret box, now tossed to the ground a few feet away. Photos of May and Ben were scattered about, among the shards of broken glass, chunks of wood, and twisted metal.

Weakened from the fall, the gunfight, and now the beating, Peter strained to reach for the box but was stopped short. Walker’s steel fingers clamped on his shoulder, yanking him to his feet. He jabbed a boulder-like fist into Peter’s sternum, violently ejecting the air from his lungs. 

Honey sprang to her feet, grabbing a chunk of wood and charging toward them. Rollins and Ward were there instantly, scooping her up and restraining her. 

She writhed desperately, screeching as they twisted her arms back. The sound of her attack vexed Peter, as he straightened his back, landing an upward thrust of his fist into John’s chin. 

“Get off of her!” he hissed at Rollins and Ward, but John intercepted him. 

Like thrashing wild animals, they pummeled each other until sweat and blood coated the floor. Yet, with every hit, John seemed unfazed. Whatever was running through his body was just as formidable as the Symbiote that had once possessed Peter. Both men tossed each other about, but Peter was at a disadvantage.

“Stop!” Honey cried out painfully in a shrill voice, which wrenched Peter’s heart. “John, don’t do this! Stop it!” 

Peter swayed with cloudy eyes as he felt John hook his fist into his jaw. It felt like being hit in the face with a brick. Right after, John landed another jab with the opposite hand. And then a third. And a fourth.

“No, John! Please stop! Just stop! Please!”

His vision blurring, Peter jabbed left, only to have his wrist caught in John’s grip. With a twirl, John wrenched Peter’s arm out of its socket. He doubled over and howled in agony, his dislocated arm hanging limply at his side.

“John, stop it, stop it, please, stop!” 

“When I’m done with you,” John whispered in Peter’s ear, “Fisk will have to scoop up what’s left of you with a shovel.”

Fighting to stay conscious, Peter met the man’s vindictive glare. John’s piercing blue eyes locked onto his. “Yeah. Wilson Fisk. I said his name. Wilson. Fisk. Meanwhile, you’re running around, afraid to say it like he’s Bloody Fucking Mary.”  

Peter was on the floor again, launched into a glass console table. Unable to break his fall, the glass and metal crunched under the momentum of his body, shattering in all directions. He rolled, coughing up blood, his face covered in bruises and cuts. His vision swam, gaze darting across the room until he spotted the secret box. 

With one arm limp, he dragged himself forward with the shoulder that had been shot, inching closer to the overturned box. He flicked the container away, his eyes landing on a delicate watch-like device. He reached for it.

John’s foot came down hard, stomping on his web shooter and crushing it beneath his foot. Peter choked back a frustrated scream, having another weapon fall short of his grasp.

“John, please! I’ll do anything you want! Just please don’t do this!”

John lifted his foot and slowly brought the sole down onto Peter’s wrist. He cried out, grimacing at the crushing pressure of the grown man standing on his forearm. 

“You know what else I call ‘em?” John said, ogling Peter as if to gloat. It was a victorious stance. He was like a giant about to crush an insect. A bloody half-smile hung on his chiseled face as he waited for Peter to make eye contact. When he finally did, John provided an answer. 

“Sir.” 

A crease formed between Peter’s brows as he gazed up at John, panting with shallow breaths. His face paled with realization.

“Yeah,” the blonde crooned with an evil smile. “That’s right.” A horrifying picture emerged from Walker’s self-satisfied expression. "Arrogant little prick. Did you think that you could beat the Kingpin?”

John crouched down low, leering over Peter like a vulture about to peck on its prey while it was still living. 

“Did you think changing your name and hiding underground would stop him from wiping you off the face of the Earth if he really wanted to?” Walker sneered in disgust. “You’re only still alive because he allows it!”

Honey sobbed with tears streaming down her face as John revealed his hand to them. Beside her, Rollins chuckled darkly, relishing in his boss’ despair. 

“You have the audacity to run your mouth all over town,” John hissed, pouring putrid waste into Peter’s ear, “like you’re gonna walk him right up to the Pearly Gates! Like you’re judge, jury, and executioner! The monster at the end of his book!”

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, rage boiling beneath his battered flesh. John reached down, gripping him by his thick tuft of hair and wrenching it back. The action forced Peter to gaze up at him; his neck bent backward and vulnerable. The way Walker glared at him, he half-expected the man to grow fangs and bury them in his throat.

“Well, I got news for ya, Peter Parker,” John spat out each word mockingly as he narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Fisk doesn’t give a shit what you call yourself.” He fixed Peter with a beaming grin made up of pure, sadistic evil. “He doesn’t even know who you are.” 

He let the words hang in the air as if they were going to carve themselves into Peter’s headstone. For his part, despite his physical agony, Peter held himself steady. Kept his eyes fixed on John’s. Kept his jaw set firm. Anger pooled beneath his chest, cleansing him as it spread through his body.

“Guess you’ll have to explain it to ‘em next time you see ‘em,” Peter muttered, his lip curled into a snarl. “Might be curious to know who it was that killed him.”

The smile dropped from John’s eyes as a fresh wave of fury overtook him. He glared down at Peter, who fixed him with an insolent smirk. 

“And for the record,” the beaten man glowered in defiance, his gaze glittering with spite, “I’m not walkin’ him to the Pearly Gates—I’m takin’ him straight to hell. So you be sure to save him a seat... you pathetic... wife-beating sack of shit!”

John growled and pulled his arm back. Drawing on the power of the entity inside him, he envisioned putting his fist through Peter’s skull and not stopping until he hit the concrete beneath their feet.

“I won’t fight you.” 

The men froze at the tiny whimper, the voice carrying it shattered and frail. 

John glanced over to see his ex-wife hanging limply in the hold of the two guards. Her eyes were empty, her face colorless and ashen. The woman swayed like a bedsheet in the wind.

“You can do whatever you want with me,” she spoke meekly, her spirit detached from her body. “I won’t fight back. I won’t run away.”

Hopelessness marked her features as nausea threatened to choke her. She wished that it would. Drowning in her own bile was a better fate than witnessing the grin form on John’s face.

“Please,” she mewled desperately, eyes red and glossy. “You’ve already won. He doesn’t matter anymore. Let Fisk finish him off.” Her voice trembled, quivering in her throat. “You can have me. However you want me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. John leered, foaming at the corners of his mouth. Lecherous eyes appraised her from head to toe. His chest heaved with short pants, like a rabid animal in heat. 

“Atta girl,” he murmured with satisfaction before tossing Peter aside like a rag doll. 

Peter coughed raggedly, choking on his red-tinged saliva, and rolled to one side. Gripping his wrist and using his foot for leverage, he wrenched his shoulder back in place with a sickening pop. An agonized whimper squeaked out, despite his best efforts. 

John crossed the room in a few strides and gripped the woman by the throat. “No,” Peter gasped through bloody lips, exhausted and breathless from fear. “No...nono...please—”

“Where the fuck are you goin’, Boss?” Malick barked as Peter struggled to stand. The guard stalked forward, gun trained on him. 

Ward joined him, grabbing Peter by his wounded shoulder and kicking his shin out from under him. Their boss was on his knees again, held steady at gunpoint, with Ward pushing the barrel of his weapon into Peter’s temple.

When Peter looked up, John was dragging Honey by the back of her neck, scruffed at the nape like an animal. She stumbled as he forced her behind Peter’s desk, kicking the chair away. He shoved her forward. The veneer stung her cheek when she collided with it, and she let out a whimper.

“Let her go!” Peter writhed desperately. Ward whacked him over the back of the head, driving him forward. He put his foot on Peter’s spine while Malick twisted his wounded arm behind his back. With his chin scraping the floor, he peered up through the fringe of his lashes. “Don’t fuckin’ touch her! You hear me?”

“Get ‘em up,” John ordered coldly. “He’s gonna wanna see this.”

With a hand on his hair and his arms locked in place, Peter’s men yanked him to his feet. He pulled himself forward, only to have Ward dig his fingers into the bullet hole, tearing at his flesh. They pulled him back down on his knees, driving a foot into his calf. Helplessly, Peter writhed, thrashing against their hold a few mere yards away from the terrified girl. 

John sauntered up behind Honey, a smug grin plastered on his face. The woman lay motionless like a possum, bent over the edge of the desk. She stared at the mess of objects on Peter’s desk, shards of the battle. They shifted in and out of focus as her glossy eyes welled with tears. She let her mind take flight, drifting off to a cabin in the mountains. 

“No!” Peter felt his voice crack and a scream lodge in his throat. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you, Walker! Ya, hear me? Look at me, you sonuvabitch! I’ll rip ya apart, sweartogod—” 

John glanced at Rollins who kept careful watch over his boss. “If he makes a move, put a bullet in his back. That way he can still watch me snap her neck like a toothpick.”

Panic surged through Peter at the order, his amber eyes bright with terror. “I’m the one you want, yeah?” he pleaded, chest heaving. “Fight me like a man, you fuckin’ coward!”

John ignored him. He pressed his hips up against the seat of Honey’s joggers. He gripped the collar of her zip-up hoodie, tearing it down her shoulders.

She was elsewhere. Watching Peter’s fingers dance across the ivory keys of a piano. She liked being wherever she was. It was always easier for her to go there. Always easier for her to run away.

John ran his greedy hands down her spine and back up again beneath the filthy camisole she wore. His touch felt like a centipede crawling across her skin. A shudder racked through her as vomit climbed up her throat.

“Somebody’s excited,” John chuckled sadistically. 

She breathed out a silent sob. She climbed the limbs of the maple tree in her backyard. Picturing the home she would make there one day.

John leaned down, pressing a rough kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Just like old times. Ain't that right, Peach?”

It was like being shocked by electricity. Letting her fingertips brush against the metal of a wall plug while still in the outlet. Every muscle in her body tensed. Her eyes darkened. Pupils blown wide.

“I don’t like that.”

John paused as his hands reached the waistband of her sweats. He glanced up at her, still amused, eyeing the back of her head. “What’d you say?”

She blinked. Her vision sharpened. “That’s not my name.”

His brow furrowed, his agitation spiking. “You’re gonna have to speak up.”

“I said ‘that’s not my name.’” Her volume grew louder, every syllable coming out sharper and more jagged. Her teeth ground together as she fixed her gaze forward, focusing on the grain of the wood. 

“My name isn’t Peach,” she hissed. Molten-hot fury filled her while her tone hardened like rapidly cooling lava. “I’m not your Peach. I’m not your Kitten.” 

Each word punctuated with a twitch in her eye and a tremor in her voice. 

“I’m not your Doll Face. Or your Whore. Or your Pawn.” 

Acid rolled off her tongue as she trembled with anger. Her rage was so thick she nearly choked on it, barely able to form words. Slowly, she pushed herself up off the desk, her spine turning to steel even as he towered over her.

“And I’m not your fucking wife,” she gritted her teeth, eyes black with hatred. “Not anymore.” 

She turned her head to glance back at John, leveling him with a vengeful look. 

“My name is Maricella Jimenez,” she hissed, sounding out each syllable carefully. “And you will remember it.” 

The hand positioned on the desk sprang forward at his face so fast that John could barely see it. His head whipped back and all he could register was white-hot, piercing pain shooting through his skull. 

John roared, reaching up with one hand to cover his face while the other hand dragged her off the desk to the ground. The guards jumped with shock, mouths agape, trying to discern what just occurred.

“Aggghhh!” John cried out with an agonized scream. Enraged, he clawed at his face, growling like a mildly-wounded grizzly bear. His thirst for blood compounded.

“Fucking bitch!” he roared, the creature inside of him twisting his vocal cords. When he straightened, half his face was covered in blood. His fingers shook as he struggled to see the damage she had done. 

His men gazed at him with dumbfounded stares. Which he could only half see. 

With a four-inch shard of broken glass from the console table lodged in his left eye socket, he’d never see anything out of that eye again. 

“You fucking bitch!” he sneered, practically drooling with outrage. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you fuckin’ bitch!” 

The sight of John’s face was nausea-inducing. Not only had the glass pierced his eye, but it sliced clean through, with half of his eyeball dangling from the nerve ending on his cheek. 

“Holy shit!” Ward gasped at the ghastly sight.

Rollins hissed at other men, their jaws still gaping wide. “Don’t just stand there! Do something, goddamnit!”

“You screwed up now, you slut!” John raged with ragged breath. “You know what you did? You assaulted a Federal Agent!” He wheeled around to spot her cowering on the floor behind the desk. He stomped toward her, murder in each footfall. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you have any idea who I am???”

John grabbed her by the forearm, wrenching her up. She faced him with fire in her eyes. In her free hand, her finger curled around the trigger of Peter’s gun.

“Who gives a fuck?” she sneered.

Looking John in the eyes, she pulled the trigger, watching as his forehead imploded. The bullet ripped through his brain, tearing it apart and exploding out the back of his skull. From there, his brain matter splattered like a microwaved tomato, spraying across the room.

“Oh shit!” The guards cried out in horror, swallowing back sickness as fragments of John’s skull rained down on them.

Rollins lunged forward, his weapon still drawn. He took three steps to the edge of the desk. 

“No!” Peter howled.

Another shot rang out. Honey held the gun firmly in her grip, shooting at the first human form that approached her. Rollins grunted, eyes wide with panic, as the bullet tore through his throat. He clutched his neck as hot liquid spilled out of his severed carotid artery. His look of agony was only matched by his look of astonishment.

Peter knocked Ward’s gun away from his temple, grabbing his wrist and directing the barrel at Malick. With Ward still clutching the gun, Peter pulled the trigger and shot Malick in the side. 

Malick doubled over, releasing his hold on Peter’s wounded shoulder. Ward strained to regain control of his weapon. They struggled briefly before Peter reached behind Ward’s suit jacket and yanked a combat knife out of its sheath. He buried the blade into Ward’s ribs, before ripping it out and plunging it in again and again. With a few quick jabs, the traitor’s torso was carved up into wet spaghetti.

Malick stumbled, struggling to recover from the bullet wound. Peter’s brain buzzed as Malick attempted to shoot him. He pivoted out of the way, using Ward’s body to block the shot. 

Honey fired the gun in her hand again, the bullet hitting the ceiling, but it was enough to distract Malick away from his target.

In a few blinks, Peter was on his feet and gripping Malick by the arm. Before the treacherous guard could fire his weapon, Peter skewered him with the hunting knife, driving it into the soft flesh behind the man’s chin.

Malick’s eyes went wide as the blade impaled his mouth, piercing his tongue. Peter snatched the back of the man’s head with a steel grip, even as his hands trembled with rage. He glared into Gideon’s eyes with bloodlust, pushing the knife up further—slowly—watching Malick squirm until the blade was buried to the hilt.

The man went limp in his hold. Once Peter watched the light fade from his eyes, he released him, finally sated. 

The sirens in his head quit blaring as soon as the threat was eliminated. The intense pressure dissipated as if a boulder had been lifted off Peter’s skull. 

He let out a long, ragged breath, his body broken and yet still pulsating with adrenaline. His eyes darted to the desk. He spotted the traumatized woman that held his heart standing behind it. His face softened. Took a step towards her.

She pivoted, still clutching the gun. Aimed it at him.

Peter went still. Fawn-hued eyes went wide. He glanced down the barrel, then back up at her.

She was astral. Her soul was only tethered to her body by a thin wire. She was a kite, tossed about the atmosphere, observing the scene outside the plane of time. 

She stared at him. Barely able to breathe. Her hand shook from the weight of the gun. 

“Whoa...” he whispered, his voice soft. He lifted his hands outward in a placating gesture. 

Her eyes were glazed over. Staring right through him.

He watched, heart pounding, as she turned her gaze downwards to the river of blood that leaked from Rollins’ corpse. Heart going cold, all that was left of his life leaked out of him like a broken faucet. No more damaging than a spilled glass of wine.

Lips sealed tight, her eyes darted over to the body closest to her.

John’s body.

Her monster lay slain at her feet. His jaw hung open in a disturbing grimace, a permanent final expression. The top of his head was now a concave shell. The image of him imprinted on her, burrowing in her memories.

She had never seen so much blood in her life. It was everywhere. Beneath her fingernails. In the tiny valleys of her skin. Dripping from her hair. It stained everything.

“Honey...” She looked only vaguely aware of Peter as he cooed gently at her, growing more apprehensive the longer her silence stretched on. “...Honey...?” he repeated slowly, his tongue going dry. 

This time, she brought her attention back to the front, her eyes finally finding his. Peter looked sick with worry, terrified of the irony that this was the exact same position they were in less than 48 hours before. 

Honey held her arm outstretched, fingers tremoring around the handle of the pistol, as she fixed Peter with an unreadable expression. He felt his heart thumping up into his throat. His growing alarm threatened to strangle him. 

Her legs were rigid even as she trembled like a tightrope walker stranded between skyscrapers. She gazed at him with a look of dread, shock seizing her body.

Peter mumbled her name desperately, chanting it like a prayer. “Honey, Honey, Honey, look at me. Look at me. Okay? Look—”

He took a step forward and she responded with a step backward, positioning him at the end of the barrel. He blinked, going still once again. His eyes misted over as he gazed at her with empathy.

“S’okay,” he softly said, closer to a plea. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re safe—”

“Stop telling me that.” She was firm, her eyes cold. 

Peter felt silent, eyes darting back and forth between her and the gun. Her breaths were short, nostrils flaring. His shoulders curved into a slump. Carefully, he lowered his hands. “I meant what I said before,” he delicately replied. “No more cages.” Her eyebrows furrowed sharply. “I made you a promise. You’re free.”

She blinked wide eyes, motionless in every other way. Warily, he glanced down at the gun. “You don’t hafta do anything—”

“Shut up!” she hissed, voice shaking. He shut his mouth immediately. Her gaze wandered, her mind spiraling out of control. She flicked her sights on the four corpses stretched out around them. Her tongue tasted like metal. The gunshot was still ringing in her ears.

“Get on your knees,” she commanded. Unlike the last time she said it, there was no sense of control in her tone. No sense of pleasure to be gained. Instead, she sounded desperate. 

Peter closed his eyes, heart sinking in his chest. “Okay.” Reluctantly, he slowly sank down until both knees were on the ground.

Her eyes flashed wildly as she glared, holding the pistol tighter in her hand. 

“S’okay,” Peter whispered out a lament. “S’okay, Honey. You’re gonna be okay.” With every repeated phrase, he relinquished more of his hope. Her eyes may have been unreadable, but her position was not. 

They were on opposite sides of the room. A continent apart. He was exiled to the unfortunate end of the barrel, along with the other men who used her as a means to an end. This was where he belonged.

A lump formed in his throat as he gazed up at her with wet eyes. “Everything is going to be okay now,” he said with a bittersweet curve of his mouth. “You have all the power, remember? Always did.” His eyes landed on the gun, then back up to hers. “No one’s gonna hurt you again.”

He watched as a tear rolled down her cheek. Fear weighed heavily on her, dragging her down into its depth. Her eyes shined like glass. The glisten in his gaze was a mirror reflection of her sorrow and regret.

“Whatever you gotta do,” Peter assured her. But it was more than reassurance. It was a gentle promise made to a frightened girl that the monsters were all gone now. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

He hesitated to speak the true meaning of his implication. Instead, his eyes shined brightly on her like rays of moonlight, as if he could illuminate her path through the dark. A sincere apology sparkled at the bottom of their bourbon glow, but also, he offered forgiveness. He fixed her with a look of compassion before closing his eyes. 

He let go.

Let go of his rage. Of his vendetta. Of his grief. Of his fantasies.

He let go of the idea of Honey.

From the depths of his bitter heart, he gave her his unconditional love.

“What I want...” 

He stirred at the closeness of her voice, his eyes snapping open to find her standing inches over him. The gun rested at her side until she let it fall from her grasp. She stared into his eyes, her tears cresting over the ridges of her heart-aching smile.

She surged forward in the blink of an eye, crashing her lips into his. Her arms crossed behind his shoulders as she collapsed into his embrace. Her tongue breached his mouth, and with it, he felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. She breathed him in, relishing in the taste of his devotion, responding to it with love letters written on her lips. It was like her whole body was on fire, and only he could control the flame.

His hands wrapped around her lower back as he worshiped each twist of her tongue. Her kiss was better than morphine, numbing his body and heart to every injury he’d ever suffered.

Only when they were both dizzy and out of breath did she break the kiss. She gazed down at him with eyes that could scorch. 

“What I want... is for you to touch me.”

To be continued...

[back to masterlist]

A/N: I want to say thank you for the incredible support you all have shown me in this last break. Part 21 is already finished and will be released this week. Real compassion exists even on the internet and I just can't even deal...

Part 23 will be the end.

[lyranova]

Omnes Sumus Peccatores: Love is Rich with Both Honey and Venom

Chapter 2: The Confused Man and the Morning Sick Woman

Hiya guys, I hope you’re all doing well! I’m sorry that I’ve taken a while with thid chapter, I had it 98% done for a while but IRL has kind of kept me from being able to finish it…but now life has kind of slowed down a bit so I was finally able to finish it! The chapters with Zera and William will all, or mostly, be split between the past and the present, but i’ll try and have them marked so people won’t get confused! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy~!

Word Count: 3,087

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Themes, Morning Sickness, Mentions of Pregnancy, Dante (he needs his own warning 🤷🏻‍♀️)

————

5 Years Earlier

Zera watched as all the Mafia families in Clover city gathered in the elegant ballroom. This was an annual event where all the families mixed and mingled, where deals were made, and where grievances were discussed.

But when things between the families grew too heated they were instantly thrown out. That was the one rule for this event; you did not fight, and you didn’t not argue. Heated debates and discussions were allowed, but anything more was strictly forbidden.

She sipped her champagne and looked around the ballroom. There were 9 major families now; There was The Golden Dawn, a relatively new family that had been climbing up the ladder the last few months and was now the second most influential family.

Then there were the Silver Eagles; who were considered one of the oldest families in the room. Their matriarch, Acier Silva, stood elegantly beside her younger children as she politely spoke with Mereoleona Vermillion.

Mereoleona was a member of the Crimson Lions family; their leader was her younger brother, Fuegoleon, and he was currently trying to keep their youngest brother Leopold out of trouble while simultaneously trying to work out a deal with Nozel Silva of the Silver Eagles.

Her ice blue eyes shifted to the other side of the room where The Coral Peacock family; led by Dorothy Unsworth, the Green Mantis family led by Jack the Ripper, and the Purple Orca family led by Kaiser Granvorka stood. They weren’t the most powerful families, nor were they the weakest.

The Blue Rose family stood a bit away from the others. They were led by Charlotte Roselei and were almost a completely all female family, and if there were any males in that family they tended to be treated as errand boys or less. Although, there was a little rumor floating around that a lot of her family members were in relationships despite all of them having ‘sworn off’ relationships with men.

Then there was the Aqua Deer family, they used to go by the Grey Deer, but after a few changes in leadership they decided to rebrand themselves. So, now they were known as the Aqua Deer and were considered the ‘youngest’ family despite actually being one of the oldest. They were currently being led by Morgen Faust.

Finally, there was the Black Bulls who were being led by Yami Sukehiro. They were one of the newest mafia families, and were considered to be the worst of the worst. They caused a lot of chaos and damage whenever they appeared, and were known for being the loudest and most rambunctious family out of the nine. Tonight only served to prove that as the Black Bulls were being loud and rowdy as they parties and had fun.

Zera smiled as she watched them; aside from her own family, the Black Bulls were her second favorite mafia family. They were just so…free, and chaotic, and just themselves! They didn’t care what people thought, they just marched to the beat of their own drum, and it was just really amazing to see.

If she were to join any family; it would be theirs.

“ Are you thinking about leaving us?” A familiar voice asked, and she smirked before turning around.

“ Of course not papa, I would never think to do that,” She replied as she saw her father, Rika, head of the Cassia family walking up to her.

“ Of course you wouldn’t,” He agreed as he also took a sip of his champagne. “ But just in case you ever decide to, I wouldn’t be upset if you married Yami and joined his family.”

Zera chuckled and shook her head.

“ Yami’s not my type,” She explained as she looked the man across the room up and down. “ He’s too…meaty.”

Rika choked and sputtered on his champagne at his daughters words.

“ Too meaty?!” Zera nodded sadly.

“ Yes. Unfortunately, I prefer my men to be more…willow branch like as opposed to bull like,” She said in a sad, tragic sounding voice, making Rika chuckle.

“ So you prefer men like Jack the Ripper?” He asked and her blue eyes glanced over at the tall, stick like man.

“ I also prefer my men less blood thirsty,” She replied as she took another sip of her drink, making her father sigh and shake his head.

“ Must you always be so picky?”

“ You always told me to keep my standards high, so I’m just doing as you said,” She responded with a soft smile. “ And besides; with such an amazing and loving man such as you who raised me, how can my standards not be high?”

Rika felt his chest swell with pride at Zera’s words. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and placed a small kiss on the top of her head.

“ I always knew you were my favorite child,” He sniffled jokingly, making Zera laugh.

“ Yeah we all know she is your favorite,” Zera’s brother Casper said as he walked over to them. “ Dad, we need you outside; Felix and Meino are about to brawl with a couple of members of the Crimson Lions again!”

Rika sighed and hung his head; of course those two were going to start trouble.

“ I’ll be right back, and please try to stay out of trouble until I do,” He pleaded with his youngest child, and she grinned at him.

“ No promises!”

Rika groaned and gave her a look that said ‘please don’t. The last thing I need tonight is another child getting into trouble!’ before he quickly followed Casper.

Zera chuckled before turning to look back out at the ballroom, where everyone was now dancing. She hummed softly along with the melodic music that echoed through the spacious room, her eyes closing slightly as her body began to sway.

She wasn’t much of a dancer, but for some reason, right now, she really wished someone would ask her to dance.

“ May I?” A male’s voice asked from beside her, and she opened her eyes.

It seems like an angel decided to grant her wish, and as she turned to accept his offer she instantly groaned. It wasn’t an angel that granted her wish; but a devil.

A very, very mean devil.

“ Well? Care to dance?” Dante Zogratis, a member of law enforcement who had been trying to get the mafia families on something for months, asked with a sleazy grin and his hand outstretched towards her.

Zera rolled her eyes and began to walk away; this man, if one could call him that, was the last person she would ever want to dance with.

“ Where are you going, Zera?” He asked as he began to follow her.

“ Away from you obviously,” She snapped, not even turning around to look at him.

Since Dante, as well as his siblings who were all in law enforcement as well, had infiltrated the inner circles of the families he had decided to make moves on all of the prominent women in every mafia family, hoping to get some kind of information out of them as well as a good ‘fuck’ as he put it.

Recently, Zera had been his latest target; but instead of giving up and moving on like he did with the rest of the women, he just kept pestering her, over and over and over again.

She had to give it to him; his determination was admirable.

“ Now Zera don’t be like that,” He began, his voice feigning hurt as he followed her. “ You know I’m the only man here who could ever make you happy, so why don’t you just say yes to my proposal? That way everyone can be happy.”

Zera scoffed before turning around on her heel to face him.

“ Is that so?” She asked with a raised brow, her arms crossing under her chest as she gave him a very annoyed look.

“ Yes, we both know that I’m probably the richest, most handsome man in this room,” Dante gloated as he gestured around the room. “ Not to mention that I’m also great in bed,” He added as he leaned in close to her.

Zera openly laughed.

“ If you were really great in bed would you feel the need to announce it to everyone?” She questioned with a smirk.

Coughs and chuckles could be heard echoing throughout the ballroom as people eavesdropped on their conversation, which made Zera smirk a bit; she always did manage to gather an audience when she was putting people in their places.

Dante’s eyebrow twitched in anger, and she could see his jaw tense as he tried to keep his temper at bay.

“ What was that?”

“ You heard me!” She exclaimed boldly. “ I said if you were so great in bed then you wouldn’t feel the need to announce it!”

The room again began to chuckle, making Dantes jaw tense even more.

“ Now Zera-!”

“ Besides I don’t care how great you are ‘in bed’ because I,” She glanced around the room for a moment before her eyes caught a glimmer of someone's coat. “ I-I already have a boyfriend!”

Dante raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“ You do?”

“ Yep, and he’s right here!” She announced as she grabbed the person closest to her and pulled him to her side.

The room went silent, but one could easily sense the confusion and surprise amongst the guests.

“ Him?”

“ M-Me?!” The voice beside her exclaimed in confusion, and Zera’s head immediately snapped in his direction.

Her blue eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly as she stared at the very shocked face of William Vangeance; the leader of the Golden Dawn family!

“ Shit! Why did it have to be him?!” She thought in panic as she glanced from him to Dante and back again.

Well, this would just have to do…

“Yep, this is my boyfriend, William Vangeance!” She repeated with the brightest smile she could muster. “ He’s smart, handsome, wealthy, and makes me see the gates of heaven every night we make hot, passionate love together! Isn’t that right darling?”

Williams face turned so red that one might mistake him for a stop light if they weren’t paying attention.

How…how did he end up in this mess? All he did was walk over in order to diffuse the situation, but now he was somehow in the middle of it?!

Dante was glaring at him, Yami was howling with laughter as he was watching the scene unfold, and he was currently dying of embarrassment.

He had never met this woman even once but now she’s claiming they had hot, passionate sex every night? Was she crazy?!

—————

Present Day

William closed his bedroom door with a tired sigh; that…had been a very awkward introduction between Neva and Yuno. The two had looked each other over silently before William began to explain the situation; and he could sufficiently say that neither one was very pleased at the idea of partnering up.

But, there was no way they could disobey the order of The King.

After telling the two to talk and get to know one another for the day, he decided to invite them both over for dinner, hoping that maybe Zera could help break the tension between them.

Speaking of, where was his fiancé?

“ Zera? Are you here?” He called as he began to look around their living quarters, he heard a soft groan come from their bedroom.

“ Zera?” He called again, and was once again met with a groan.

He began to quickly walk towards the sound and opened their bedroom door to see his fiancé lying curled up on the bed.

“ Zera?” He called softly for a third time, he watched as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

“ You’re home,” She began softly as a bright but tired smile appeared on her face. “ I would get up and give you a kiss, but your little seedling has decided to be very bad today by giving me an awful case of afternoon sickness.”

William blinked for a moment.

“ My little seedling?” He repeated in confusion as he slowly took his shoes off and began to unbutton his suit jacket.

“ Yes, your little seedling,” She confirmed with a pointed expression. “ You know, the one you planted inside my garden about six or seven weeks ago?”

He smirked a bit as he took off his suit jacket and threw it onto the cushioned bench that sat at the end of their bed.

“ But darling, if I remember correctly; weren’t you the one asking, no, begging me to plant my seed inside your garden over and over again until one finally took root?” He asked with a mock confused tone as he crawled onto the bed and towards his wife.

Zera smirked a bit before she quickly pouted.

“ Maybe. But just to clarify things; I didn’t beg you…I ordered you to.” She said as she looked at him over her shoulder.

William chuckled before nodding in agreement as he laid down behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her close to him.

“ You did, and there’s no way I could disobey an order from the Queen.” He muttered softly as he placed a kiss against her shoulder, then her neck, and finally her cheek.

A soft hum escaped her as she leaned her head back against his chest, the warmth radiating from his body made her body feel more relaxed and caused her intense nausea to dissipate slightly.

“ How did Neva take the news of needing to have a partner?” Zera asked softly, her eyes closing a bit as she grew more and more sleepy in his embrace.

“ About as well as I expected her to,” He replied softly as he buried his face into the crook of her neck.

“ So, not well at all?”

William chuckled before nodding slowly.

“ Not well at all.” He repeated, making her sigh.

She had a feeling that would happen. It was very well known to everyone that Neva didn��t work well with others unless it was William, he was the only person she would willingly work with, so for her to now be forced to work with others in order to stay in the family…she could only imagine how terrible of a reaction Neva had.

“ But she did choose a partner,” William said, making Zera’s eyes snap open in surprise before she rolled over to face her husband.

“ Really? Who?”

“ Yuno.”

“ Yuno?! The new kid?” She asked in disbelief, and her brows raised considerably when he nodded. “ Why would she want to work with him?”

“ Because, according to Neva, he can give an unbiased evaluation,” William explained. “ Which I have to agree with; if she were to work with Langris or Alecdora their reports would be very biased against her because of their history with each other.”

“ So this is the best way to get an accurate assessment on Neva’s improvements.”

Zera nodded slowly as she listened to her fiancé explain; they had a point, this would be the best way to get an accurate assessment, but still, she couldn’t help but worry.

“ What’ll you do if Yuno’s assessment of Neva is the same as Alecdora’s and Langris’s?” She asked softly, and she watched as William’s eyes searched hers for a moment before they slowly closed in thought.

“ I’m not really sure,” He admitted quietly. “ I told her that she would have to leave the family but…I don’t think I could make her do that.”

She nodded again slowly, she knew of William and Neva’s history together, and knew that this was the only place she knew and the only family she had ever had. So if he were to force Neva to leave…she wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.

“ Well, if you want my opinion,” Zera began as she reached up and placed a hand against the side of his face. “ I don’t think it’ll come to that, I think everything will work out between them.”

William’s eyes slowly opened and his brow furrowed.

“ How do you know that?”

Zera hummed.

“ Let’s just call it a woman’s intuition?” She said mysteriously, which only made his brows furrow more.

It was probably one of Zera’s many ‘gut feelings’ that she tended to get every now and then when it came to things that involved the family and it’s members…

“ By the way,” Zera continued, changing the subject. “ Is Neva still coming by for dinner tonight?”

Her fiancé blinked in surprise at the sudden change of subject, but nodded.

“ She said she would, but after our meeting I wouldn’t be surprised if she canceled at the last minute since I also asked Yuno to join.” William said with a chuckle, making her sigh and shake her head in disapproval.

“ I’m sure she’ll still come, because if she doesn’t, she knows I’ll never forgive her for it.” Zera told him with a small pout.

William chuckled again and nodded in agreement before he pulled her towards him and held her close.

“ We still have some time before dinner,” He muttered as he leaned his face down towards hers. “ We could take a nap, or maybe we could do something a little more…fun?” He suggested warmly, a hint of seduction in his voice.

Zera smirked at him as her hand slid from his face to his chest.

“ A little more fun, huh? What kind of fun did you have in mind?” She asked, her voice playful and flirty as she moved her face closer to his, their lips now only mere inches from each other.

William hummed, his eyes gazing down at her lips for a moment before slowly working their way back up to her face.

“ Perhaps the kind that doesn’t involve any clothes?” He suggested lustfully, and that only caused her smirk to widen.

“ I was hoping you would say that.” She muttered softly as their lips moved closer…and closer…and closer…

But just as they were about to touch, Zera’s hand immediately shot up to clamp over her mouth, and she pulled her face away from his.

“ Sorry!” She muttered quickly before climbing over him, getting out of bed, and rushing over to their bathroom where, as soon as she closed the door, William could hear her retching into the toilet.

A sad sigh escaped him as he sat up, climbed out of bed, and began to walk to the bathroom so he could hold Zera’s hair back.

Later, he would have to remind their child to try and be a little nicer to their mama and not make her so sick over the next few months.

————

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[bunnys-kisses]

hii! brownies with a side of martini with lando for me please 🤭

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? look at the menu! i'm constantly writing up orders! i even accept for fandoms outside of formula one!! as for this suggestion, i am really liking that people really want mafia au lando, it's very nice and allows me to think a little more outside the box with the au! i just don't want them all read the same, right? this won't be the last time you'll see lando in a mafia au!! i hope you enjoy this!! <3

brownies ("you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours.") + martini (mafia au) served by lando norris (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, enforcer!lando, baker!reader, kitchen sex, oral sex (reader receiving), affectionate!lando, mentions of au typical violence

"these are amazing, honey." lando groaned as he took a bite of the warm brownies you just made. it was comfort food in a way. you always know how to make them perfectly.

you leaned against the counter of the kitchen, you watched your boyfriend devour a piece of the treat with excitement, you sighed, "i don't know. i think it's a little too sweet."

"no way, impossible." he said, "these are going to sell like crazy at the shop. can i have another one?"

you chuckled, and leaned towards him. you wiped a bit of stray chocolate off the corner of his mouth, "you're so much more agreeable when you have something to occupy that mouth of yours."

he beamed at you, "well of course." he then snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you on the cheek, "anything of yours that goes into my mouth would shut me up.

this would look like a true domestic scene. a young couple in love, sharing a late night treat on a thursday. but if someone looked closely at the tattoos on your lover's arms. they would know that he wasn't the prince charming on a full rise scholarship to a university. he was an enforcer for the mclaren family.

lando could fight. that was his whole job, he told you about growing up and the brawls he'd get into. he always told you how many he won and told you not to worry at the number his loss.

when he walked down the street and people saw the tattoos along his arms and the cigarette tucked behind his head. they thought he was big trouble, when you two walked together you often got double-takes from people. why was someone like you, with someone like him.

and while you'd go into detail about how much of a caring lover he was. how much he adored you, all the times he brought you home flowers and kept a polaroid photo on you in the back of his jean pocket. there was something undeniable about lando that made you blush.

he was really good in the bedroom.

not that it was the only good thing about him! he went above and beyond anything any other boyfriend had done for you. he was your ray of sunshine. he made sure his woman was taken care of.

you got up onto the counter after you got your sweatpants and panties off. you knew you should be heading to bed soon for another long day at work. but lando was insistent that he made sure that the love of his life got a proper thank you for making him such a nice treat when he came home.

"double chocolate is great and all." he as he got closer to you. bent over to get between those thighs of yours. he held your legs open and licked his lips, "but, it's nothing like your pussy." he chuckled before he pressed a kiss at your slit.

you held onto the edge of the counter while he started to lick at your sex. his tongue between your pussy lips. he groaned against you as he held onto your hips.

lando was a dangerous man, you had heard whispers through the area you lived in about how evil he was. there was a story about him taking out a guy's teeth tooth by tooth and then smashing his jaw.

he could be intimidating, those eyes could go from friend to sharp in mere seconds. his hands were lined with scarring from other the years and many of his tattoos covered up the other scars.

he'd walk around the main street in nothing but a tank top, loose jeans and a gold chain, his face card never failed and his wit was unmatched. but when he stumbled up the bakery you worked at one day, it was like his entire life changed.

now he was between your legs with his tongue up against your pussy. his nose rubbed against your clit which made you clench up. you held onto the back of his head and guided him up against your pussy. the pleasure was a steady throb that made you flushed.

he was in love with you, if he had to describe the feeling. it was like his heart was whole. that the pieces of him were glued back together by your love. and he in turn wanted to give all his love to you.

"please, lando." you said softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, "you know exactly how to do it." you shuddered at the pleasure in your body.

"only the best for you." he said softly, "only the best." before he gave your thigh a little love tap before he continued to lap at your pussy. you held onto him tighter and his cock twitched in his sweats.

you held onto his curly hair tightly and whined a little. you tensed up as you came, finishing on his tongue. the noises you made had lando feeling good all over. he worked quickly to send you right over the edge. when you nails grazed along his scalp his brain turned off for a moment.

"shit." he grumbled against your slit.

you relaxed after a few moments and panted heavily. you rested up against the cabinets behind you and clung to your boyfriend for a moment longer.

he lazily licked at your sweet slit as he nosed at your clit. he was insatiable when it came to you. you then stroked the back of his head lovingly. he groaned a little at the soft touch.

lando was a mafia enforcer, he hurt people for a living. but his true weakness was his baker girlfriend and her lovely desserts. <3

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.77)

(sneek peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae and Hobi help Yoongi during your first wave of heat.

Tags: heat sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, fertility kink, Dom! Yoongi, foursome, fluffy, no hurt just comfort, alot of smut but it's also very loving, coming prematurely, breeding kink, cum play, sleepy sex, mommy kink, talking her through it, dirty talk, exhibitionism voeyeurisim, teasing, flirting, biting,

W/c: 11.3k

A/n: thank you guys for being so tolerant of my brief absense, i didn't intend to take so long to update this but unfortunately sometimes living through historical events can be really tough to get through.

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

You laugh until you hiss, curling to the side just a little, a wave racking through you. Burning and stinging from your stomach outwards.

Yoongi stills, one hand on your knee the other pressed to your stomach flat, eyes wide. Tae lets your wrists go so you can clutch at your stomach. Holding your face through it. "oh my little honey, don't worry, we'll make it better, shh just-" She's a little more panicky than the rest of them are. Hobi's hand is just hard on your shoulder, knuckles white, expression stricken but unsure.

Yoongi holds your stomach too. Alarmed by your trembling. "Are you- do you need-“ a knot, hovers on the edge of his tongue.

But you just blink. “Yoongi- it's too much- it burns- Sore- so sore here” You touch your stomach gently, but it's so sensitive it still makes you hiss.

but after a moment you relax, stretching back out in the nest. breathing heavy until you aren't until the cramping, the aching need want filled need to be filled in your head quiets.

Yoongi's fingers swirl on your stomach, gently. it's sensitive, but it actually does make you feel better. “You ran, do you want us to wait for Namjoon or-" You’re already shaking your head no when Yoongi cuts off. settling back against the nest, letting your legs flop open so that he can shuffle forward closer.

You don't wonder why Yoongi mentions Namjoon. He's the pack alpha, and the right to breed you first in heat is his as dictated by old laws and rules and all manner or propriety.

But Namjoon is not your mate and he's not like that. He cares about your wants first. His own ego is very far down on his list of priorities (probably ranks just after Noodle's wellbeing in terms of Namjoon's pack alpha priorities. Dominance is its own kind of submission)

And, judging by Jin's snarling from the other room- he'll be preoccupied for at least the next hour. You don't know if you can wait that long. A whine drips out of you, a sound small and weak.

Hobi shuffles closer to you. Bare-chested, his red shorts looking tight. Looking unsure. "You did run, do you not want-" us, does not come out.

You shift, futile trying to get comfortable, it's impossible with the weight of your instincts pinning you down. “Nah, just ran cuz it’s fun. Not cuz I didn’t want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi huffs, his anxiety dissipating, fond with it, fingers itching up your thighs, parting them just a little so that he can shuffle forward closer to you. Until you can feel the heat from his tummy against yours.

You can feel so much. Your whole body one big nerve ending. You can feel the slight fluff and softness of the peach fuzz on his tummy dragging against yours as he gets closer. The feel of his slender but strong fingers circling your ankles. All of it.

You like this, you always like it when Yoongi's close.

“Glad we cleared that up, it’s not like I can’t literally see you slicking up but-“ you laugh and try and swat at him. He drops one of your ankles to catch your hand and tangles it with his for good measure.

A small smile hovers on the edge of his lips. He searches your face, smiling at what he sees- your dopey smile and endeared indignation. The heat might be new, but this is so familiar his heart aches with it.

“If you’re gonna tease me while I’m in heat can you at least make it good?” Your breath goes heavy. Warm and sweet, fluffing over him. Everything; the sweetness to your scent, the ruddiness of your knees and stomach, the messy fluff of your hair over the pastel pillow, the relaxed sprawl of your body, a siren song for Yoongi.

Above you- Tae and Hobi stay quiet. Just watching, Tae drags a lock of your hair away from your face. Patient while you and yoongi flirt. “I thought you liked my teasing.”

Your tone sounds petulant even to you, “I do just not-”

Yoongi presses your knees apart, up towards your chest putting you on display and bare. abrumptly cutting off your words as you let out a broken moan. He puts a bit more force behind it than usual, But you feel yourself clench and his gaze flickers down.

The smile on his face widens just a bit, and you hiccup through the shudder that rocks through you. Your body burns, your stomach churns, your skin simmers where he touches craving for more more more.

A breeding press. That's what Yoongi's just put you into. knees to your chest, your sensitive heat slit ripe and wet between your thighs, ready for the taking. a breeding press infront of two alpha's, infront of Tae and Hobi, watching with wide dark eyes.

“Hold her.” Yoongi’s command is not snapped or growled out but Hobi and Tae follow suit regardless. Hobi fumbles, grabbing one wrist and Tae grabs the other.

Boneless. Ready for breeding. Settled. It’s a bit of a strange show of dominance. But inside, Yoongi isn’t surprised that you needed it. to be held down and puppeted and propped. To know that they’re in control before you let your alpha's breed you.

He says your alphas- but he's the only one you're looking at. The only one you're whining for.

It’s hard to articulate your hands or your mind, tongue wrapped around a sound that can only be an endless whimper. Tae leans low when you try to squirm again. Her teeth nip at your ear, a shock to your system that makes you leak a fresh gush of slick half onto Yoongi's lap.

You have to be spilling and dripping by now. You try and press your legs back together and hide but Yoongi keeps you spread.

“No pup, settle.”

Coming Saturday November 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

[outoftheseine]

- BUCKY BARNES FIC RECS PART 3 -

his strut, lord forgive me | some fics might have 18+ content so minors do not interact. | more will be added!

main masterlist | part 1 | part 2

SERIES - MULTI-CHAPTERS

break free • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @james-bucky (angst, violence, comfort, smut)

honey girl • dbf!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @violentdelightsandviolentends (age gap, soulmate au, smut, angst, fluff)

taken • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @antiquarianfics (angst, violence, kidnapping)

public affair | public display • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @kaznejis

you are mine, sunshine • grumpy!bodyguard!bucky barnes x sunshine!fem!reader

↳ by @theeleggymeggy

i never thought you'd happen to me | part 2 | part 3 • bucky barnes x curvy!reader

↳ by @nickfowlerrr (slight angst, mostly fluff, smut, luv itt)

against all odds | part 2 • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bossbtch1

ONE-SHOTS - HC'S - BLURBS

you found me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @samthemarvelfan (slight angst, fluff)

cry baby • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @buckymorelikefuckme (smut, friends to lovers)

secret injury • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @lives-in-midgard

the collection • tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @theeleggymeggy

better knock • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @buckysouvenir (flufff, implied smut)

suffocate me with your love • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @rocketrhap3000 (angst with happy ending, self-esteem problems)

always • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @nickfowlerrr (angst with happy ending)

contaminated • bucky barnes x agent!reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (fluff)

finally • bucky barnes x spy!reader

↳ by @adrinktostopyourthirst (smut, fluff, angst)

curiosity killed the cat • mafia!bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @queers-gambit (angst, kidnapping, mean!bucky)

help me • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (angst, bucky's ptsd, comfort)

his everything • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @likeahorribledream (angst, fluff and insecure bucky)

the way he loves • bucky barnes x widow!reader

↳ by @lovelybarnes (aahh so fluffy so sweet)

patience • grumpy!bucky barnes x sunshine!reader

↳ by @sageandravens

it's called: freefall • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @kikixreverie

baking for bucky • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @itsplumwriter (so fluff, i wish i can bake for bucky too)

wrapped in affection • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @aikaterini-drag (very fluffy)

the signal • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @lostgirlmuseum (angst, a misunderstanding)

first time • bucky barnes x gn!reader

↳ by @ivybucky

i was born ready • bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @whatthetumblfck (angst, kidnapping, ptsd?)

babysitting duty • bucky barnes x girlfriend!fem!reader

↳ by @nicoline1998enilocin (fluff)

here's looking at you, kid • boxer!bucky barnes x reader

↳ by @cryonme (angst, violence, tw: abuse)

knight in shining motorcycle • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @queen-of-the-avengers (almost sa, slight angst, comfort)

verity • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @cosmicbucky (angst, fluff, friends to lovers)

let it be known • mob!bucky barnes x bf!fem!reader

↳ by @kinanabinks

harvest heart • bucky barnes x fem!reader

↳ by @eloquentreverie (verry fluffy)