#mobster x reader
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I really only approve of Mob Dads that are like:
âOh? You say my teen daughter committed Various Crimes and is in jail? Itâs so disappointing. So, so disappointing that she got caught. Anyway, youâll hear from our lawyer, Iâve already paid bail. Please ask her what she wants for dinner so I can tell the chef. Okay, byeeeâ
None of that weird misogyny bs with the âI wanna have a SON. Why aRenT yOu a BOy?!?â
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Bucky & Ducky (1) - The first meeting - Flufftober 17
Summary: Bucky Barnes. Ruthless mafia boss. Soft only for his wife and...well, Ducky.
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Side pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Ducky the duck
Warnings: mafia business, fluff, unusual friendship
A/N: Thanks to @buck-star for the idea and brainstorming with me. I did it...đ
Bucky & Ducky Masterlist
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024
Heâs tired. Tired enough to fall asleep standing.
The deal he wanted to seal took longer than he liked. All Bucky Barnes wants is to get into the bathtub and wash the day off his body.
Maybe he can get you into the bathtub too to get you clean and more. He chuckles at that thought and hurriedly jogs up the staircase leading to the master bedroom.
Bucky canât wait to see your face. Itâs been a long day and an even longer and exhausting week. His life has never been easy. From the first cry till today, he always had to fight to stay on top of the food chain.
The mafia business is not like any other business. You donât go home with clean hands and a light heart. Bucky only gets to rest when you are around. You, the light of his life, give him the feeling of being a better man.
âDoll, Iâm home,â he calls your name. âBaby? Your man is home. Do you want to get clean with me?â
He sneaks into the bathroom, hearing the water splash. Bucky grins, believing youâre taking a bath in your brand-new luxury whirlpool bathtub.
âI knew youâd love the bathtub. Itâs the jet stream nozzle, right?â He huffs when you donât answer. âIâll get out of my clothes and join you!â
Silence greets him, but Bucky eagerly strips off his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. He loves to make a show out of stripping his boxers off in front of you.
âIs it warm? Does the heater work? What about the LEDs?â He harrumphs when you still donât answer. âOkay, baby doll.â He opens the bathroom door and walks in. Bucky flexes his muscles until his eyes land on the filled bathtub.
âWhat theâ?â Bucky back paddles. He leaves the bathroom in search of you. âDoll. DOLL!â
âHey, Bucky Bear,â you walk into the bedroom, looking him up and down. âOh, youâre already back. I prepared dinner.â
âWhat is that?â He points at the open bathroom door. âDoll?â
You poke your head into the bathroom to look at the bathtub. âA duck.â
âYes, no⌠I mean, I know that itâs a duck.â Bucky looks at the little yellow duckling happily swimming around his expensive bathtub. âI meant, what is a duck doing in our bathtub?â
âI thought it wanted a bath and a swim," you smile widely as you grasp Buckyâs hand. âDid you already introduce yourself to him?â
âWhat? Iââ Bucky furrows his brows. You canât be serious. How can you keep a straight face while a duckling is swimming in your bathtub? âWhy? Where did that thing come from?â
âBucky,â you softly say. âShush. Thatâs not a thing; itâs a cute little duckling. My bossâs ducks had ducklings. This little guy was the weakest, and they believed he wouldnât make it. They wanted to..." You sniffle and throw yourself at Bucky. âI had to save him. Youâd have done the same.â
âDoll, I,â he murmurs your name. âWhat do we do with a duck? We already have the guard dog.â
âThe guard dog looks angry all the time,â you sniffle. âThe duckling needs a new home, Bucky. He needs us. Please say yes.â
Bucky sighs deeply. He already knows the answer will be yes. How could he deny you? Bucky had a weak spot for you from the beginning. Your soft smile and sweetness made him fall hard for you.
âOkay, the duck can stay as long as it doesnât poop into the bathtub,â he sternly says, making you giggle. âSo, can I take a bath now, or do we need a schedule to use the tub?â
âYou could just bathe with the duckling while I finish dinner. Heâs a sweet duck, I promise.â You look at Bucky, giving him your sweetest smile. âAnd he wonât poop into the tub.â
Bucky slowly walks toward the tub. He looks at the duckling swimming in his bathtub.
âSo, you wormed your way into my wifeâs heart, huh? How did you do it?â The mobster watches the duckling swim around the bathtub while it quacks. Bucky shakes his head. How did it come so far that he considers sharing a bathtub with a duckling?
While the duckling swims around the bathtub, Bucky strips his boxers off. He carefully steps inside the bathtub, keeping an eye on the duckling.
âOkay, punk,â he says while slowly sitting down in the tub. âHere are the rules.â He whispers so no one can hear him talk to a duckling. âNo hitting on my wife. Sheâs all mine. Now pooping into the tub.â Bucky points his index finger at the duckling. âNo biting my dick. I know it looks like a delicious and fat worm, but it is not for you to eat.â
Bucky watches the duckling get close until it stops in front of his tummy.
âHmmâŚdo you already have a name, punk?â He wonders aloud. âWhat about Yellow or Feathers?â Bucky shakes his head. âNo, that doesnât sound good. Oh, I know!â Your husband exclaims loudly. âDUCKY! Thatâs a good name, a manly name for a manly duckling.â
You press one hand to your mouth to keep yourself from giggling. Bucky is sitting in the bathtub, talking to the duckling.
It seems they are getting along better than you thought possible.
Part 2
Tags in reblog.
#Bucky & Ducky (1) - The first meeting#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#mafia au#mobster!bucky barnes#kinktober vs flufftober 2024
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âĽď¸ đotes: heavily inspired by my babe @fae-of-prey who said she pictures bratty, party girl!reader as a maxine minx type genuinely a mastermind, ilysm⌠which got me thinking about reader basically being rafeâs personal pornstar.
content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. featuring this AU. f!reader, filming, daddy kink, unprotected sex, light slapping.
vodka & vanillaâ thatâs what you smell like, and it makes rafe want to eat you right up as he lays you down on his bed.
youâre a squirmy mess, pretty tits falling out of the top of your party dress while he maneuvers you about, making sure you stay on your back as those devious giggles fall from your lips and go straight to the bulge in his slacks. the effect you have on him borders on disgusting. your eyes twinkle in the harsh light of the flash coming from his phone; because you love when he films you, when you get to be his little actress.
âgimme some sugar,â rafe grumbles just loud enough for his phone to pick up, leaning down and making sure the camera can see you kissing him. all needy and eager for a taste.
your arms reach out to cling onto his shoulders, and he groans when your manicured nails dig into his skin even through the material of his shirt. you share a few more kisses, rubbing your tongue over his own to hear him moan desperately into your mouth before he pulls awayâ you look over at his phone, tucking your swollen bottom lip between your teeth. rafe follows your gaze, âgonna put on a good show fâme?â
âof course i am, daddy.â your words are a little slurred.
youâre already a bit hazy with pleasure, always feeling like youâre floating when all of rafeâs attention is on you and nothing else. he hasnât given you a reason to be nasty yet, so youâll play along and be good.
a good girlâ thatâs exactly what he calls you moments later, when he has your dress bunched up in his fist over your tummy. leaving your lacy panties that are tugged to the side and messy cunt exposed, along with your breasts as they bounce with the force of his almost terrifyingly deep thrusts. all while you claw at his forearm because itâs the only thing youâre capable of as your body trembles with pleasure, eyes fluttering shut only for rafe to lift his hand and gently smack your soft cheek.
he squishes your face in his thick fingers right after, crooning down at you, âgotta stay focused if you wanna be daddyâs star, baby.â
#đ bunny thinks#mobster!rafe#party girl!reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe x you
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REMUS LUPIN | 13:53 â ONE NEGRONI
SUM : to help pay the bills and your tuition fee, you get a new job at an elite club where the tips are incredibly generous. youâve met a majority of the clientele already but they donât match the stranger who ordered a simple negroni
TAGS. : mafia au ; modern au ; muggle au ; mobster remus ; mafia boss remus ; bartender reader ; reader is a hard working sweetheart that must be protected! ; catching remusâ eye ; remus lowkey wishes he can be the one to do the protecting ; and maybe more ; for now, heâs a low key stalker ; but sexy⌠; stalking is bad, donât do it! ; this is just fiction! ; but hey! remus owns an elite club! wooooo! ; i donât know how to feel about my interpretation of the marauders as mafia men/mobsters ; itâs growing on me⌠; also, im casting peter pettigrew as Dane DeHan in this!
LENGTH : 1.5k
It wasnât as if you were new to the job; you had previously worked some years as a bar tender for a pretty well-established club, it paid well and managed to help pay for your rent and utility bills for most of your higher education years. However, all the built up stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to you. And you found yourself repeating a year, meaning that you needed to pay for your own tuition this year atop all the other monthly bills and necessities you keep up with. Perhaps it was the universe telling you that you needed to stop and change the direction of your life â you needed to choose an easier path, a doable path. But you were stubborn and also quite the optimist. So you kept at it, determined to finish what you started and earn your degree.Â
Yes, it was a let down but you were still breathing. Life just gets hard sometimes.Â
Thankfully, your past experience and phenomenal recommendation letter from your previous manager earned you another bar tending job at a very elite club, where tips were more than generous, considering the clientele composed primarily of the privileged class, some with multiple businesses under their belts, some who were phenomenal investors and some living off their parentsâ money. You didnât care to look too much into it, you were there to work and you were going to work hard and honestly.Â
The patrons surprisingly had very similar tastes and so, you fond yourself making the same types of drinks repeatedly. It made the job a lot easier and you were able to focus more on your delivery and interaction with customers, leading to more tips. Times were rough after having to accept defeat with your studies and repeating a year with your own funding but things were looking up. If you keep at it, youâll make it out alive.Â
Your only complaint was the dress code. Make up was advised with a bold red lip but must be kept simple. You felt like a showgirl of some kind, squeezed into a high collar, white dress that came down to your mid thigh and with a low-cut, open back. The sleeves arenât as long as you would like but, at least, you were permitted to use black kitten heel court shoe pumps as opposed to stilettos â your only saving grace, along with the higher salary and generous tips.Â
âLooks like we have a newbie working the bar,â Sirius points out, drawing all attention to your lively figure as you served drinks with a sweet smile and airy voice. A hum of curiosity vibrates through Remusâ chest and up to his lips at the sight of you, âcertainly easy on the eyes, huh?â the tattooed, right-hand comments again as he looks towards the head of the table where Remus holds up his glass of Negroni.Â
âVery⌠innocentâ a sweet, pretty, little thing,â James comments on Remusâ other side, which Peter grunts at in agreement as he takes a sip of his whiskey-sour.Â
âLooks like she doesnât belong,â Peter nods before smirking and letting out a light laugh. The domino effect had James and Sirius laughing too as Remus smirks behind his glass before proceeding to down the rest of his drink.Â
âExactly your type, eh? Moony?âÂ
Siriusâ teasing comment is ignored. Instead, Remus calls for there server and orders another drink with an additional request that only confirms his smirking friendâs disregarded statement, âHave the new bartender personally deliver my drink for me as well,â
There was no higher authority that could dismiss the club ownerâs personal request.Â
It was a strange request but you steeled your nerves and asked your fellow bartender to minister your unattended station while you made quick work on the order. It wasnât unusual to receive requests like this from an isolated table that had privacy curtains for convenience. However, it was usually for drinks that you could make a show out of like a Holy Water cocktail, a Phoenix cocktail and even a Dragonâs Blood cocktail â a performance that you liked partaking in for the flammable aspect. But this was a Negroni. A cocktail of equal parts gin, saccharine vermouth and bitter Italian Campari. Itâs a very egalitarian drink that was enjoyed by everyone, men and women alike, simple but elegant and definitely didnât require a performance. Despite the odd summons, you were eager to fulfil your curiosity for who the client may be.Â
With a professional smile, you place refined mix in the middle of your circular tray with itâs classic orange garnish and set off to the table. The standby server, who made the order, saw your approach and quickly announced your arrival through the small front opening, momentarily disappearing into the shadow of the curtains. He reappears a moment later and pulls the heavy drapes fully apart, to reveal the guests from beneath the, once, opaque shadows.Â
To say that you were stunned was an understatement.Â
It was pure luck that you didnât stutter in your stride and spill the cocktail prematurely. At the table was seated four men, all dressed in suits and ties that were in various states of disorder. Among their collection of suits, you could spot Armani and Tom Ford, however, you were sure that their unconventional styles were not the way those suits were intended to be worn.Â
One man with long, midnight-black hair and paper-pale skin had an array of mismatching tattoos littering both arms, revealed to you by his lack of a suit jacket and rolled-up sleeves. Another wore cute circular glasses and a cheeky grin with a suit jacket but no button up shirt and his chiseled upper body on full display. The last was a dirty blonde with piercing eyes and a deceivingly boyish smile. He had his ankle propped up on his opposite knee and several buttons undone where a tie should have been fastened over, his sleeves also rolled up as his suit jacket lay beside him.
It was the man at the head of the table, however, who stole your attention. If you had to guess who ordered such a simple but elegant drink, it would have to be him. He had his suit jacket draped over his broad shoulders and also had several of his top buttons undone, revealing some faded scars marked across his toned chest. His neat brunette hair and kind brown eyes gave him a deceivingly gentle appearance but his close company revealed a duplicity that caught and tensed your nerves.
You ignored the creeping goosebumps that prickled your skin, down from your toes all the way up to your ears.Â
Just do your jobâŚ
âGentlemen,â you addressed kindly with a slight tilt of your head, which they acknowledged with their own hums of acknowledgement, their eyes lighting up in subtle surprise at your actions, âI have an order for a Negroni,â you raise your tray with the drink and scan the four for some indication as to who the order belonged to.Â
âThat would be for me,â just as you suspected, it was the brunette with the kindest eyes but also the most ominous air. His voice is a deep and smooth lullaby, patient with itâs seduction on your senses. It was a trap that you resisted but are so hopelessly tempted to fall into, âThank you, sweetheart,â he meets your eyes as you lower the drink into his large, outstretched hand. You notice how his knuckles and fingers are littered with scars also, some fresh, some faded with time and some hidden behind luxurious rings. NeverthelessâŚ
Heâs beautifulÂ
Sheâs preciousÂ
âNot a problem,â you reassure with a soft voice, âhave a good evening,â with your circular tray pressed against your side, you offer him an innocent smile and dismiss the butterflies in your stomach urging you to linger, âgentlemen,â you acknowledge the remaining three once more before offering another sweet smile. Turning on your heel, you leave the group and ignore the stares drilling holes into the back of your head.
She doesnât knowâŚÂ
Once you were out of earshot, Remus turns to his closest friends and most trusted colleagues. They all share a look, one that conveys a unanimous thought. It isnât long before their agreement manifests into knowing smiles and a ring of laughter shared between them.
âDonât get greedy now, Moony,â Peter chimes in as Sirius throws his head back with a barking laugh.Â
âThatâs not gonna stop him Wormtail, you know that; sheâs a rare one,â Â
âSo whatâs the plan, bossman?â James asks with a raised brow as he brings his drink up to his lips.
Remus doesnât answer right away, he simply requests that the curtain remain open so he can fix his fond gaze on you for the remainder of the evening. The group already knew what to do and sat at the edge of their seats, awaiting orders eagerly despite their slack shoulders and composed expressions. Only they were able to observe the shift in the air between them; it became charged as soon as you entered their circle and slowly started accelerating, parallel to the climbing affection in Remusâ eyes as he watches you smile at customers while making their drinks.Â
He takes a singular sip of his Negroni, bitterly sweet with a citrus edge.Â
Heaven in a glass. And made by an angel.Â
âI want a background check and profile put together immediately,â Remus finally orders, âI want to know everything there is to know about her,â
A/N : i downloaded some fics and read some over the holidays and there some mafia/mobster aus and i couldnât help but picture remus as a mob boss, iâm sure im not the only one to ever imagine this but goddamn! why is it so easy to imagine sweet, gentle, responsible remus like that?!
NAVI.
TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @rosalyn-s
#remus lupin#â˝ : timestamp#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fic#remus x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fanfiction#the marauders#marauders#remus lupin mafia boss au#mafia au#mobster au
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Smoke & Blood (Frank Castle)
Summary: after you kill the men who sought after Frank, everything goes haywire.
Warnings: angst
WC: 1K
Read on Ao3!
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The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, mixed with the faint scent of gasoline and iron. The warehouse was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering bulbs overhead and the occasional flash of lightning outside. It was rainingâa storm was in full swing, but inside, it was quiet. Too quiet.
You stood in the middle of it all, your pulse racing, your breath shaky. Bodies littered the floor around youâmen who had once been allies, now nothing more than casualties in the war you had been dragged into. The war that was Frank Castleâs life.
You had known the risks when you got involved with Frank, but nothing couldâve prepared you for this moment. The world was spinning, the weight of your decisions crashing down on you all at once as you faced the man you had fallen in love withâthe man who now looked at you like you were the enemy.
Frank stood a few feet away, his chest heaving from the fight, blood splattered across his face and knuckles. His eyes were wild, dark with rage, and yet somewhere behind the storm in his gaze, you could still see the man you knew. The man you had come to care for, despite the blood he constantly shed.
âWhy?â he asked, his voice low and dangerous, the words cutting through the silence like a blade. His hand twitched, gripping the gun at his side tightly, but he didnât raise it. Not yet. âWhy the hell did you do it?â
You swallowed hard, your hands shaking as you tried to find the words. But how could you explain something like this to Frank? How could you tell him that you had been forced into a corner, that you had no choice?
âI had to, Frank,â you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain hitting the roof. âYou donât understandâŚâ
His eyes narrowed, and in an instant, he crossed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your arm in a bruising grip. âI donât understand?â he growled, his voice rough and venomous. âI trusted you. I loved you. And you went behind my back. You sold me out to those bastards.â His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as if he was barely holding himself together. âYou betrayed me.â
Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. âI didnât have a choice,â you said, your voice shaking. âThey were going to kill you. They came to me, they threatened meâthreatened us. I thought if I could just give them something, theyâd let you go. I thought I could protect you.â
Frankâs eyes flashed with fury, and he released you, pushing you back roughly as he turned away, pacing like a caged animal. âYou thought you could protect me?â he repeated, his voice bitter. âDo you know who the hell I am? What I do? I donât need protecting, especially not from someone whoâs supposed to have my back.â
âFrank, pleaseââ
âNo!â he shouted, spinning around to face you again, his chest heaving. âYou made a deal with the same people Iâve spent my life fighting. You handed me over to the enemy.â His hands were shaking now, his fists clenched at his sides. âYou thought theyâd let me live? They were going to kill me, and you know it.â
The accusation hit you like a punch to the gut. You had made a mistake, a terrible, unforgivable mistake. But you had done it for him. To save him.
âI didnât know what else to do,â you said, your voice breaking as the tears finally spilled down your cheeks. âI thought I was helping. I thoughtââ
âYou thought wrong,â he cut you off, his voice cold and unforgiving. âAnd now, because of you, they know where I am. They know everything.â He took a step toward you, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something darkâsomething dangerousâcross his face. âYou signed my death warrant. You might as well have put the bullet in me yourself.â
You took a shaky step back, fear creeping up your spine as you realized just how far you had pushed him. Frank Castle was not a man you crossed. And now, you had done the one thing he couldnât forgive.
âI never meant for this to happen,â you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Frankâs expression hardened, his eyes burning with fury. âIntentions donât matter. What matters is what you did.â His voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. âI should kill you.â
You froze, the weight of his words settling like ice in your veins. You knew Frank was capable of itâheâd killed countless men for far less. But this was different. This was you. You had stood by him, fought beside him. You had loved him.
But now, that love felt like a distant memory.
âIâll kill you with my bare hands,â he whispered, stepping even closer, his voice laced with so much venom it made your heart stop. âFor what you did. For betraying me.â
A sob escaped your throat, your vision blurring as you looked up at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces. âFrank⌠Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry.â
For a moment, his face softenedâjust for a moment. You saw a flicker of the man you loved, the man who had held you after long nights of fighting, who had whispered promises of safety in the dark. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by the hard, unforgiving mask of The Punisher.
âSorry wonât fix this,â he said quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
You nodded, tears streaming down your face. âI know.â
He stared at you for a long moment, the silence between you deafening. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the warehouse, broken and consumed by the weight of your choices.
The rain outside continued to pour, but the storm in your heart was far worse.
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smog & spirits: spirit-raiser (mini-series)
Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU
gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and you are the witch he has chosen to help him break it.
Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, witchcraft, possession, mediums, if you squint theres some plot, smoking, mention of death/violence/torture, mention of police brutality, vaguely british setting??, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything
Word Count: 8k
A/N: hey. don't ask. this idea came to me a few days ago and i wrote it all out in like two sessions at 2am. i want to write more for this, i have so many ideas for some more one-shot style interactions. this just got so long so quickly so i had to cut some stuff. sorry for any typos - not proof read and edited while half asleep lol.
main masterlist | series masterlist
You did not remember leaving your door unlocked.Â
The fog that settled over the smokey, portside district of Sootstone was suffocating. Despite it being only midday, the entire neighbourhood was cast into a muggy gloom. The sun could not break through the thick smog that comfortably nestled itself along the windy streets of The Warrens. The stench of smoke and fish hung heavy in the air, with sweaty dockworkers and dirty children darting between alleys. In your short journey to and from the small Sunday market, you had nearly been bowled over thrice by oblivious residents.Â
The Warrens, or Sootstone Port, as it was formally known, was not a pleasant place. Home to the working class and the rotted underbelly of the city of Blackstone. The high society chatters liked to forget such a place existed, as it was simply not a charming place to think about. Most worked the ports, ferrying in the sea trade. Others worked in the Smokestack district, manufacturing metal in factories that pumped ash and soot into the air. There were also the select few who turned to other trades, such as pubs, hotels, brothels, or even those who were forced into a life of joblessness on the streets.Â
The Warrens werenât so imaginatively named. It was a clever joke among high-society gossipers that the poor fucked like rabbits and lived in their elaborate winding burrows, from which they rarely emerged for air. The people of Sootstone had accepted the insult, finding the whole metaphor rather hilarious. That was because the Warreners could take a joke, unlike the condescending crowd of high society. It could also be argued that the residents of The Warrens could not come up with a better metaphor, as most were not educated in any sense.Â
Perhaps the mixture of smog and that lack of an education had finally made it to your head. You were left standing, perplexed, as your front door swung open without so much of a nudge. The lock was normally a sticky one, leaving you to jiggle the knob and slam your shoulder against the frame until it came unstuck. Never in your two years of living in the tiny flat had you ever witnessed such a sight.Â
You wouldâve thought it a miracle if it werenât for the implications.Â
It was true that The Warrens were notorious for crimes. Theft, assault, and murder. Even if coppers paraded the streets, they werenât truly there to stop criminals. No, they were more interested in beating any poor innocents that got in their way. It was better to find protection from vigilante gangs who roamed Sootstoneâs streets, scrapping like stray dogs over territories. As much as those uninvolved in such business were afraid of them, they also respected them. Their deeds werenât always motivated by blood and destruction; the gangs stood to protect their communities as no one else would.Â
Even if you and your surrounding neighbours were under the protection of Barnesâ Smog Boys, it was definitely still alarming to see a group of them gathered in your small kitchen.Â
âLookie who's home.â One of the men cooed at the sight of you. He stood closest to the door, one hand tucked in his jacket pocket while the other fiddled with a toothpick that hung from his lips. His blond hair was slicked back, tucked under a flatcap. Steve Rogers. The Smog Boys right hand man. Next to him was Sam Wilson, his stocky form leaning against your rickety cupboards. His gaze was fixed on a silver pocket watch he had tightly secured in his left palm, a short chain draping across his vest. He glanced up at Steveâs words, a wicked smirk crossing his lips at the sight of you.Â
âSunday market?â Sam queried, and you drew your woven basket closer. There was an unsettling sneer in his voice.Â
The Smog Boys were one of seven gangs that roamed the underbelly of Blackstone. Their territories lay in the fog of Sootstone Port and the smokey streets of the Smokestack district and The Warrens. You could commonly see them stalking the streets, dressed in all black with their flatcaps and slicked back hair. They moved through the smog like ghosts, navigating the twisting streets with an unnatural ease. Some called them ghouls; others called them saviours from the fog.Â
The final man, the worst of them all, was Bucky Barnes. He sat across from you, half obscured by your small dining table. He had laid a box of cigarettes and matches on the marked wood. One was smoking between his lips, his head angled down and cocked to one side, as he assessed you with a look of boredom. There was a terrifying edge of calculation in his gaze as he evaluated you. He was just as large as the other two men, with muscles poorly hidden beneath his black, tailored suit. His hair, similarly to Steve's, was slicked back, and the sides buzzed. A 5âoclock shadow ghosted his jawline, but overall, his appearance was unsettlingly neat.Â
Not a speck of ash or soot. As if he had just appeared within your flat, blinking into existence rather than having walked The Warrens like any other mere mortal.Â
You had never seen the man in person. No. If the Smog Boys were ghosts, Bucky certainly lived up to the name. He was an enigma, a haunting story whispered between children. He had clawed his way up to a position of power from the gutters of The Warrens, bloodshed and all. He was a notorious skirt-chaser, his handsome appearance and strong build drawing in women from all classes. Looking at him now, despite the terror congealing in your blood, you could understand the appeal.Â
âWhyâre you here?â You ask hesitantly. Unlike the gangsters before you, you were not pristine by any means. Falling ash had coated your shoulders, staining the tartan fabric of the mantle draped over your shoulders. Your hair was swept up under a head scarf, which was also covered in a layer of soot and dust from the smokestacks. Even your worn leather boots were not safe; mud and filth caked onto the heels and sides. The streets of The Warren had never known any type of cleanliness.Â
âCome to introduce ourselves. Donât think weâve ever met before, âleast I think I wouldâave remembered a pretty face like yours.â Steve speaks up, a gleam in his eye. His tone is playful yet somehow cruel. The chuckle he and Sam share rattles you. The two of them were also said to try their luck with the women who crowded around, searching for the thrill of a gangster lover.
âYou mightâave mistaken me for someone else⌠Iâve lived here two years now.â You speak with a continued caution. With precise movements, as to not brush either of the hulking men crowding the kitchen entrance, you place your basket on a nearby surface. Even the cloth that you have thrown over the items is coated in a layer of ash.Â
âWe know.â Sam says, twisting his body. He lifts up the cloth, inspecting the food beneath. You know it is nothing excitingâsome bread, fish, and vegetables. As well as a handful of sweets you gave to the children of your neighbour. You keep your mouth shut as Sam dips into the white and red striped paper bag and pops one of the sweets into his mouth with a satisfied hum.Â
Steve pushes himself off the wall, his jacket brushing against you. He was far taller than you, tall enough that he had to crane his neck down in order to whisper in your ear. âA lilâ birdy told us youâre a spirit-raiser.âÂ
âIâNo.â You stumble over your words, eyes darting between the three men. Bucky is still silent, still like a cat hunting a mouse. The gaze he assessed you with was one of a predator, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He doesnât crack a smile as the two men beside you laugh between themselves.Â
To fend off some anxious energy, you make quick work of unknotting your headscarf. Ash and dust flutter to the ground as you shake out the fabric, a frown etched across your features. You could not help but let your mind wonder to the stories you had heard growing up. You were a lifelong resident of The Warrens, only moving to live on your own after sickness claimed your mother. You father had passed long before that, lost to drink.Â
âWhat do you call yourself then? Hm?â Steve asks, breath hot against your cheek. You flinch as he pulls a fleck of ash from your hair. In the stories, they would speak of men with their tongues cut out. Bodies that were filled with bricks, then stitched back up and sunk to the bottom of the Sootstone Port. Men were found hanged from street lights, severely beaten, with sections of skin along their thighs and chest peeled off with a blade. And those were only the bodies coppers found.Â
âI prefer witch.â You correct, brows furrowing. Your head turns to look at the gangster, wary of how close his fingers lingered. Teeth bared in a grin, he blows a soft breath across your hair, the last of the ash unsettled as it floats away. You can smell tobacco on his breathâa familiar scent to you.
âI need a favour.â Bucky finally speaks up, his voice low. Your gaze snaps to meet his.Â
You blink. âA favour?â
You jump as Bucky finally moves, his foot jerking as he kicks the seat opposite him. The chair scrapes across the hardwood floors, stopping centimetres before your boots.Â
âSit.â He commands.Â
Samâs hand finds the back of your neck, a soft push guiding you in the direction of the free space. You obey, your knee bouncing as you take a seat. You sit near the edge of the chair, leaving some distance between yourself and the table. As if sensing your desire to bolt, Steve sweeps up behind you, pushing the chair in until you are fully tucked in. Then, with mocking laughter, Sam and Steve take a seat on either side of you.Â
âNo one told me there was any issue about magicââ You begin. Steve snickers beside you, returning to fiddling with the toothpick still poking from his mouth.Â
âA favour.â Bucky repeats, exhaling smoke from his nose. Sam leans back in his seat, legs spread so widely that his knee touches yours. You shrink back as far as possible. âIâm no copper. I donât care what you practitioners get up to.â
You find yourself blinking in surprise once more. Magic was a subject that divided many, mostly due to itâs misunderstood nature. High society treated magic as another lavish hobby or skill, with some even going to private schools to turn their gifts into professions with the right licences. Of course, the people of the lower-class were banned from performing such tricks unless they were in possession of the right permits. Due to the nature of the slums being, well, impoverished, unlicensed magic ran rampant through the streets. It wasnât uncommon knowledge that an entire blackmarket of forbidden arts ran in the backalleys and warehouses of The Warren. Places where those needing particular services could find them for a much more convenient price than in the higherclass areas of Blackstone.Â
You had kept your services rather secretive, never using your real identity with clients. It was a precaution to not have coppers knocking down your door in the middle of the night. It seemed, despite your best efforts, that nothing flew past Bucky Barnes. But then again, nothing seemed to fly past the gangster. He knew of every black market and every whisper of illegal activity in the slums. It would be foolish to believe he was unaware of you; however, why did he specifically sort you out? Now that was a mystery.Â
âI donât understandââ You choke out, head whipping back and forth as you look between the men.Â
Bucky sighs loudly in annoyance, loud enough that you flinch back. He puts out the remains of his cigarette on your dining table, the smouldering dip leaving a black, circular mark on the wood. He digs into one of the pockets of his vest, revealing a large pendant necklace. The chain is silver, with an oval shaped jewel hanging from the centre. The silver that encrusts it in place is swirled, ensuring there are no gaps for it to escape. Sam and Steve fall quiet, any feeling of twisted amusement dropping from the room. Bucky slides the necklace across the table.
You recoil. This time not out of fear, but rather from the aura the necklace exudes.Â
Goosebumps rise across your skin, and bile rises in your throat. There was a wickedness in the air, as if all the light and sweetness in the world were sucked into an empty, yawning void. The world feels still, as if even the ash outside has failed to fall. The room is cast into a sickening silence, a silence so strong that even the surrounding world refuses to push through. You can no longer hear the people walking through the winding streets of The Warren, not the clang of metal from the smokestacks or the cry of the dockworkers.Â
Rot.Â
It is the only word that comes to your mind. It is as if the jewel itself is rotten, potent, and putrid. An invisible smell so strong you nearly gag. Your skin crawls the longer you stare, as if you rot along with itâbugs squirming beneath your flesh, the taste of dirt in your mouth. Â
âWhatâs this?â You asked, your voice strained. You know the blood has drained from your face. Bucky looks at you with curiosity.Â
âYou tell me.â
You look down at the necklace. Dread rises once more, and the chill of soil settles across your shoulders. You twist your head and your neck, feeling uncomfortable and strained the longer you gaze upon the necklace.Â
There was something terribly, terribly wrong about it.Â
âThereâs a⌠a sickness⌠a rotâa curse.â You stumble over your words, your entire body squirming against your will. The feeling of dread swims through you; the sensation that you need to get as far away as possible reverberates down your spine.Â
âBecca was right.â Steve sings somewhere besides you, but you barely register his words.Â
âWhereâd you find this?â You ask. The room is tighter than usual, with the rickety, peeling cabinets closing in around you. The oven screeches on its iron legs, the yellowed wallpaper crushing closer and closer. Your head falls into your hands, elbows propped onto the table. You let out a shuddering breath, trying to rid yourself of the sickly feeling. You rub your fingers up your face, pinching the bridge of your nose, then massaging your forehead
âIt was given to me. As a gift.â As he speaks, you reluctantly open your eyes once more. The room has returned to as you remember, your vision less dizzying as you take in a deep gulp of air, your heart thundering in your ears. You must make a face, because it prompts him to speak once more.Â
âMy sister has a sensitivity. She is convincedââ
âThereâs a spirit attached to that jewel.â You interrupt before thinking. Your knees bounce beneath the table, your feet shaking. Your entire being screams that you need to get away from the object. You do not care for politeness or fear of these men, as the horror in your heart you felt gazing upon the necklace greatly outweighed any potential anxieties of the future.
âYes.â His voice matches his composureâcool and collected. Wholly unaffected by the horrific aura cast by the necklace. Bucky and his men were not magically inclined. They were completely oblivious to the calamity that sat before them.Â
âThe spirits're attached to you, too.â You pause, the feeling of bile rising in your throat once more. âYou need to get it lifted.â
âThatâs where the favour comes in, doll.â
âI donâtâŚ?â You nearly doubled over. âPlease get rid of it. I canâtââ
Barnes leans forward, slowly dragging the necklace over the wood. He slowly deposits it into his breast pocket, watching with curiosity as you sag in relief. You would need to burn this table after they left. You could still sense the rot engrained in the pores of the wood.Â
âI need to speak with the spirit attached.â
Your forearms lay flat on the table, and you rest your head against them as you try to remember how to breathe. A wave of exhaustion rolls over you. Was this how they tortured their victims? Wore them down into pathetic, panting messes? Were you about to become another body at the bottom of the Sootstone port? You mumble into the fabric. âI canât raise a spirit without a name.â
âI know her name.â
You pause, lifting your head slowly. âYou want to ask her how to break it? You may know her, but spiritsâre tricksters they wonât always give ya the correct informationââ
âI know how to deal with her.â
You arch a brow, unsure.
âSheâs a scorned lover.â Sam whispers beside you. You jump, having forgotten the two other men sitting besides you. Bucky scowls at his wordsâthe most emotion he has shown in the entire time.Â
âEveryone knows you donât âave a witch for a moll unless youâre gonna marry her.â Steve butts in, and the two men share a chuckle.Â
âShut your mugs. The both of ya.â Bucky snarls, and they both fall silent, although you canât help but notice their bemused smiles. After a brief, tense silence, the gangster settles back into his seat, tipping his chin upward in a nod. âMorwenna Blackthorn.â
You hesitate, glancing between the three men. They watch you expectantly, relaxing back into their respective seats. Given their status and reputation, you had to presume they were familiar with the workings of underground magic. Licenced practitioners would have clients sign lengthy documents for protection in the event of a spell or session backfiring. The Warrens did not have such luxuriesâif you made a mistake, no one could protect you or them from the consequences.Â
You inhale sharply, placing your hands palms down on the table. The wood hums beneath your touch, the invisible vapours of the curse tickling your flesh. With a roll of your shoulders, you exhale slowly, allowing your body to relax.Â
Ink drips across your vision, swirling darkness millimetres before your eyes. You stare hard into the invisible void, searching blindly through the tendrils of smoke. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your mind hums. Through the dark fog, you can make out figuresâflickers of candle flames casting large, distorted shadows. Morwenna Blackthorn. Bones crunch beneath your feet, yet at the same time, you float. Morwenna Blackthorn. Your hands burn into the table, the rotting sensation tangling through your digits, pulling you deeper.Â
Morwenna Blackthorn
You can see a thin line of thread hanging through the void.Â
Morwenna Blackthorn.
It is red; a series of knots tugged tightly intermittently.Â
Morwenna Blackthorn.
Your fingers grasp the fibres gently, your nail hooking around one of the tiny knots.Â
You tug.
Morwenna Blackthorn.
A violent, ragged gasp leaves you. It claws up your throat, ripping at the flesh. Your entire body tenses, your spine straightening as your head snaps back. For a moment, you are suspended. You can feel her with you, her ghostly fingers stroking tenderly across your skin. She smooths over the back of your hands, slowly and gradually winding her way up your arms. She clutches your shoulders, her bones digging into your flesh.
Then, with violence strong enough that you fear she has folded your spine in half, she pushes down.Â
Your body instantly relaxes, head lulling downward. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and despite the appearance being a milky white, you can see perfectly clearly. Morwenna has settled herself deep within your bones, controlling your movements like a puppeteer. You are conscious enough to understand what is happening, but you are not in control of your actions or speech.
Your mouth spread into a wide, sly smile. âBucky, my love.â
âMor.â The gangster greets, although he does not seem entirely pleased. You pout, leaning your elbows onto the table.Â
âNot happy to see me?â You coo. Somewhere beside you, Steve shifts in his seat uncomfortably. It is the most off put youâve ever seen the man so far. He winces as your head swings around, a wicked grin gracing your lips. âOh, Stevie and Sam. Didnât see you two here.â
âMor.â The two men grumble in unison, scowling.Â
âAwh. Why so glum, boys?â You whine, your chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your movements are fluid and graceful, entirely not your own. Your hands stroke across the back of the chair, then swooshes up to meet your chest.Â
You lean forward, tutting as you inspect your reflection in the glass of a nearby cupboard. âTrust you to find a pretty one in The Warrens.âÂ
Your hands move to unpin your mantle, a cloud of ash lingering in the air as you drop it to the floor. You sigh in relief, your fingers unbuttoning the top of your shirt, revealing the curve of your breasts. Your hands smooth down your waist to your hips; your full figure is now displayed.Â
âYou missed me that much, my love? That you had to find a pretty vessel for me so you could get your cock wet, hm?â You hum, sashying towards the table once more.Â
âThatâs not why youâre here.â Bucky replies. He seems frozen in place. The horror of familiarity. Recognising the mannerisms of someone he once knew in a complete stranger.Â
You ignore his words, unpinning your hair. Thick locks unroll, cascading down your shoulders and back. You let out an exaggerated, satisfied sigh, rolling your neck. The strands frame your face, and the rich colour brings colour to your cheeks.Â
âMorwenna.â Bucky snaps. Your brows furrow as you look over to him, pouting once more. âYou put a curse. On the necklace.â
Your mind momentarily blanks, as if Morwenna were trying to recall what he said. Spirits often grew confused trying to recall memories, especially ones that brought them anguish. A cog seems to turn as you flash the gangster another beaming smile.Â
âThe necklace⌠oh. Did you like it? My parting gift to you? Before you fucked me over you piece ofââ Your voice, once sweet and soft, deepens to a guttural growl. Your body shakes, and words cut off as you cough and hack. Your hand raises to your mouth, warm fluid leaking from your lips. You let in a shuddering breath, rubbing your fingers and palms down your chin. Blood smears across your skin.Â
âYou shot me, my love.â You gasp, your brows furrowing as your head tilts. âYou shot me.â
âYou betrayed us, remember? You were a ratââ Steve jumps in, but is quickly cut off.Â
âSteve.â Bucky warns.
Your hands find your stomach, doubling over as you sob. There is no wound, no blood. Still, your hands dig at the fabric while ragged, pathetic cries leave your blood stained lips.Â
âHow do I break the curse?â
You shuddering sobs stop, a dreadful silence falling over the tiny kitchen. A guttural laugh erupts from you, saliva mixed with blood dripping from your lips to the floor. âThe curse. The curse? I should have known⌠I should have knownâŚâ
Your body jerks upward, movements stiff, and jerks like a marionette doll. Samâs face contorts into one of fear, while Steve looks horrified. You jerk forward, nearly tripping over the chair as you plunge towards the table. Your stomach smacks hard against the wood, a winded wheeze escaping your lungs as you drag yourself forward by your nails.Â
âDonât you love me? Donât you want me?â You cry, your head beginning to twist, the angle so unnatural that it strains your neck.Â
âHow do I break it?â Bucky repeats, voice firm. He hasnât so much as flinched, a wall of steel as you crawl towards him.Â
âIt was born in chaos, so it must be undone in chaos. I will find you. I will tear you limb from limb. I will make you rot from the inside out; maggots will grow within you; and mould will bloom in your soul. Everything will crumble to dust beneath your touch. I will ruin you until you bâbâbeââ
Your body slides back, and for the first time in the entire session, you grab the reins. You search blindly for the knotted thread, tugging hard. Your body steps back from the table, muscles spasming and tense as your body locks in place.Â
You tug harder, and darkness swims across your vision. Candles flicker and dance in the distance, the sun rising and falling as your body twists up and down. The smell of rot slowly subsides, threads slipping from your fingers. The scent of copper and ash is on your tongue, and your head is pounding.Â
A dramatic sigh leaves you as your body slumps. You find yourself standing before the table, three sets of eyes burning into you as your own eyes roll back into place. Sam and Steve look equally disturbed as they are horrified, the blondâs mouth agape in shock.Â
âThe fuck was that?â Sam barks.
âI ainât never seen a spirit session like that before, Buckââ Steve begins.
âShut it.â Bucky barks, rising to his feet.Â
There is a sickly feeling in your chest, a radiating pain across your ribcage. You barely register the gangster walking up to you, gripping your chin between his index and thumb.Â
âYou pulled yourself out early.â Bucky sneers. âWhy?â
âBuckââ Steve calls again. With a growl, Bucky releases you, twisting around to snarl at Steve.Â
âI thought you told me she was the best in the Warrens?â
âShe is. Didâya not see that shit?â
âShe didnât get me an answerââ
âChaos magic.â You finally speak up, your voice raspy. The gangsters pause, slowly turning to face you. âShe told you. Itâs chaos magic. Whatâs born in chaos must be undone in chaos.â
Your hand raises to your face, your fingertips touching your upperlip as warm blood flows from your nose. You raise your hand into the light, inspecting the crimson liquid. Your eyes cut over to Bucky's, and he frowns.Â
âChaos magic?â He questions.Â
âSex magic.â You state, fighting the heat growing across your cheeks. Without much of a care or a flinch, you navigate your way past the group. Your shirt brushes against Buckyâs jacket, the rotting feeling momentarily settling in your stomach as the fabric brushes his breastpocket. You pause in front of your sink, knuckles white as you grip the lip. Blood continues to stream steadily from your nose, dripping into the basin.Â
âYou focus your thoughts on one thing; you get pulled into a trance. Take the energy, the chaos, and you focus it. At the peak, picture what youâre manifestinâ. The chaos that youâve built through the act is released at the moment of orgasm.â You explain, your gaze solidly locked onto the blood that swirls down your drain.Â
âSex magic.â Bucky hums in thought.
Steve spoke up from beside him with a snicker. âHow poetic.â
â
You hated how your hands shook. If Bucky had noticed, he hadnât brought it up. He was coolly inspecting your tiny bedroom, hands tucked into his pockets. The room had an eclectic taste, with walls covered in shelving. You collected books, objects, trinkets, or other things that helped your work. Drying herbs hung from your curtain railings, your desk cluttered with papers you had hastily scribbled notes upon.Â
You ground your palm harder into the pestle, gritting your teeth as you worked the herbs inside into a fine paste. Your bed, stripped bare, had been pushed to the side of the room. It usually sat near the centre, atop a fraying rug. The rug had also been removed, rolled up, and placed somewhere in your stairway. The old wood beneath had been painted by your hand, with intricate runes, symbols, and swirls making up the general shape of a circle. You had already lined it with black salt, candles burning at each cardinal direction. At the centre of the circle, you had laid your bedding and pillows for comfort.Â
Bucky had sent Steve and Sam away, the two men snickering like a pair of school boys. You all knew what was about to unfold; it was just a question of why you had allowed yourself to become tangled up in such a situation. You had done similar rituals for clients before, yes, but none of those clients had been the boss of the Smog Boys. None of them had been Bucky Barnes.Â
You eyed him as he paused in front of the carved circle, mindlessly playing with the jewelled necklace that hung from his grip. The awful, dreadful, rotting sensation was dulled; youâd nearly begged the gangster to let you cleanse the object. It was a temporary relief that would wear down in a few hours, but at least you could complete your work without gagging at the feeling of it. You hurriedly poured the thick paste from the herbs into a pot, which boiled in your fireplace. It only took a couple of stirs for the potion to settle. You could feel Buckyâs eyes assessing your every movement as you poured the steaming liquid into two cups, briefly swirling each to ensure the consistency was correct.Â
âRemind me what this is.â The gangster asked, closing the distance between you. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the scent.Â
âA potion to help with the ritual. Some find itâŚhard to perform.â You say, wincing as you realise what you implied. Bucky raises a brow as you fumble over your words. âIt heightens arousal and pleasure.â
âI wonât find it hard to perform.â He replies curtly.Â
âI know. I wasnât saying thatâI just⌠from experienceâŚâ You stumble again. If only you could punch yourself in the face for this idiocy.Â
âRelax, doll.â He hums, his hand finding your shoulder. You exhale sharply, lips pressed together, as your shoulders drop in response. âI can find someone else if you donât want this.â
As much as you hated yourself for admitting it, you did want this. Maybe it was a sick curiosity, wondering if this dangerous yet handsome man could perform as well as you imagined, as well as it was rumoured. You swallow, your mouth feeling dry. âNo. I want this.â
âGood.â His hand brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, and his head dips to look at you better. âHonestly, I could fuck you with or without the potion, doll.â
There is a knowing smirk spreading across his face as your mind blanks. Fucking rake. You consider if the fumes from the potion have already leaked their effects onto you both. You can feel a warmth growing between your legs.Â
âItâs my job.â You mutter, stepping away. Although youâre unsure if the reassurance is for yourself or for him. His chuckle follows you as you sweep across the room, returning to your small desk. âDo you want me to explain the ritual in detail or just give you the gist of it?â
âSpare the details; just run me through what I need to do.â He responds. He has closed the distance between the both of you again, peering over your shoulder as you fumble through your things.Â
âWell, itâs pretty simple.â You sigh, turning around. Your chests are nearly pressed together as you spin. You back up as far as possible, your hands moving behind your back as you grip the edge of the desk to steady yourself. "Weâll have to draw some blood with a blade and put it on the necklace to link it to our energies. Itâs sigil magic, nothing youâll have to worry about. We take the potionsâŚâ
You fade off with a shrug. Bucky smirks once more, his chin lifting in amusement, but his gaze remains solidly locked onto you. His hands go to his pockets, and his wide chest blocks your movements. You clear your throat. âThe ending is more what youâll need to focus on. When you reach⌠climax⌠you must focus all your energy on the necklace and nothing else. I will be there to guide and remind you, but you canât let your thoughts stray.â
âWhat about you? What will you have to think of?â He questions, his voice low. His adams apple bobs as he swallows slowly, his tongue running across his bottom lip in thought. Intriguing question. No one had asked you that before.Â
âDoesnât matter. Youâre the only one who needs to orgasm.â
âWhy?â
âThe curse is linked to you. Only you can break it, with my assistance, of course. I am just here to help guide you and lend you my energy. I am just a conduit for the magic, to focus it.â You explain. Thinking it was best to get it over and done with, you finally pluck up the courage to push past him.Â
Your athame was already in place; the candles were lit, salt laid, and sigil memorised. There was only one thing left to doâthe act. You crouch down by the fireplace, retrieving the two cups. Bucky gives you an incredulous look.Â
âIt tastes better than it smells.â You reassure him, handing him the saucer. He inspects the liquid once more, wincing, then shrugging in surprise as he finally downs the lot. You watch with a scrutinising gaze as he places the cup down, rolling his shoulders.Â
The potion would take all of five seconds to take affect. It didnât alter the brain or take away authority; rather, it heightened already present feelings of arousal or pleasure. The user would experience a rather euphoric sensation. Dodgy brothels often microdosed their clients with such herbs to heighten the experience. Also to hook in a new, loyal customer. Used sparingly, the herbs were fine, but they were highly addictive.Â
And illegal. Most of your work fell into that category.
Within moments, you could see Buckyâs pupils dilate, his jaw and shoulders relaxing, and his nostrils flaring as he exhaled slowly. His voice was strained as he spoke up, his tone gravelly and low as he cleared his throat in surprise. âFuck. That does feel good, doesnât it?â
You smile shyly into your own cup and swallow down the liquid. You were familiar with the taste and itâs effects. It was surprisingly sweet, with a vanilla, nutty aftertaste. As soon as it hit your stomach, you could already feel the warmth growing in your coreâa delightful tingling sensation spreading up your spine and skull.Â
You were quick to place your cup down and cross the room to retrieve the athame. You had to pin point your actions very directly so as not to get distracted by the hulking man looming in your room. The potion was definitely potent, because any fear or anxiety had left you. Your body begged for him to come closer, to touch you, to kiss you. Not yet. Soon.Â
âCome here.â You murmur, drawing the blade from itâs sheath. Bucky obeys, wordlessly stalking towards you and presenting you with his palm. You look up at him through your lashes, gently taking his hand into yours. Your skin sings at the content, a rush of goosebumps raising across your skin. âWe donât need much blood.â
The gangster is still as you drag the blade in a short cut along the heel of his palm. You push into the mound, coaxing out droplets of blood to blister to the surface. âThe necklace.â
He lets out a low, agreeable grunt as he hands it to you. The potion has helped you ignore any bad energy attached to the object. Your skin simmers as you brush your finger tips along the cut, gathering Buckyâs blood. You take the jewel, smearing the blood across the slippery surface into one half of a symbol. Bucky watches expectantly as you hastily repeat the process with your own hand, smearing your blood to complete the symbol.Â
âYou need to wear it.â You hum and guide the chain over his head. You know you should find a bandage or some kind of healing salve for your hands, but your attention is pulled away as Bucky grasps your hand. An involuntary whimper leaves your throat as he raises your palm to his lips, his tongue peaking out as he runs it across the open wound. The potion had definitely taken effect. Holy fuck, your back arches as pleasure shoots down your arm, blooming at the base of your skull.Â
His lips kiss along the cut, sucking and licking. Your mind swims from the sensationâideas of where else he could be putting his mouth to use. You pull your palm away, dragging it across his cheek as you cup his face. A crimson streak is smeared along his skin, and his lips are glossy from saliva and stained with your blood. The two of you clash in desperation, a rumbling groan being pulled from the gangster as his lips engulf yours.Â
You can taste copper on his tongue, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you flush against his body. The two of you move in a frantic rhythm, scarcely making room to breathe. You guide him clumsily to the painted circle, the two of you falling to your knees in unison. Blindly, you find his clothing, helping him tug off the jacket and then unbutton his vest.Â
His hands slip under your blouse, caressing the skin beneath. His fingers roam to your brassiere, your nipples hardening as he brushes them through the sleek fabric. You mewl into his mouth, squirming under his touch as the pulse between your legs quickens. His large palm comes to rest below your breasts, his thumb sitting on your sternum as he yanks you backwards onto his lap.Â
Your lips break, and you gasp for air as the gangster continues his assault down your neck to the exposed skin of your collarbone. His stubble tickles across your neck, and he gathers your skirts, fingers gliding past your stockings to your exposed inner thigh.Â
Your head tips backwards to rest on his shoulder, and loud, satisfied sighs leave you. The sensation is near blinding, your body alight with pleasure. Had you accidentally made a stronger dose in your nervousness? You had never yearned in such a way beforeâ
âWhatâre you doing?â You query with a gasp as his fingers slip beneath your loose tap pants.Â
Your question is answered as he strokes a fingertip through your wet folds.Â
âYouâre so wet.â He hums against your skin, voice strained. You can already feel his erection pressing into you. His grip on you remains firm, your back flush against his chest as he dips two of his fingers into you. Ecstasy fizzles across your skin, nails digging into his skin where you grip his arm.Â
âWhatâre youâ Iâm supposed to make youâah!â You whine, your breath coming fast as you lean harder into him. Your hips rock greedily, pushing your pelvis in time with his pumping fingers so the heel of his palm grinds against your clit.Â
âShh, doll. Relax.â He whispers, his tongue licking up the shell of your ear. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your body is locked in place by his grip. His pace increases, and the panting in your ear grows as his two digits glide in and out of your tight cunt.Â
âDo you like that?â He groans in your ear. Your grinding hips are now giving friction to his cock, which twitches against your backside through his pants. You whimper in response, a short sob bubbling from your mouth as you clench around him.Â
Your head lifts, eyes widening as you look down. You canât see much due to your skirts, but you can feel the knot tightening within your belly. Your hips move more desperately, needy, pathetic moans escaping you as his pace remains steady.Â
âPleaseââ You beg, squirming as the gangster chuckles.Â
âYou do like this, huh? Even if you acted like a little innocent virgin earlier.â He growls. The vibration is enough to set you over the edge, a loud cry leaving you as you clench hard around his fingers, body spasming. Bucky continues to steadily pump you through your orgasm. âGood girl.â
A continued arousal stirs in your belly at his praise. Your body slumps against him, panting and exhausted.Â
âSuch a good girl.â He hums again, his digits slipping out of you. You can feel the sloppy mess between your thighs, and as Bucky pulls his hand into the light, you can see the wet drenching his fingers. âI think I like this version of you. The one who makes pretty little noises while I fuck her brains out, hm?â
Youâre left speechless as the gangster lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a devilish smirk.Â
âWell, time to get this ritual over with then, donât you think?â He says. Youâre too exhausted and drunk on desire to bother replying. You allow him to guide you down, so your head is placed side-ways on one of the pillows. He guides your hips up, your legs slightly spread, and pushes your skirts to your hips.Â
âYouâll have to tell me when youâre close, so I can guide you.â You finally muster up the strength to say. The gangster pulls your tap pants down, exposing your cunt fully.Â
âSure thing, doll.â He says in response. You hear the sound of fabric rustling as he pulls out his cock.Â
Without much warning, he pushes into you, your arousal making it easy for his member to slide in and out of you. A growl burns in the back of his throat while you wordlessly make a fist around the sheets and blankets beneath you.Â
âFuck. Youâre so tight.â Bucky groans, his voice strained. âAnd to think youâve been hidinâ out in The Warrens all this time.â
He sinks deeper into you, pulling small whimpers and moans from you as he finds a steady, pleasurable rhythm. His hand slides up your clothed back, pushing you harder into the pillow with a grunt. His other hand finds your hips, his grip bruising as he guides you.Â
You bite down into the pillow, your pleasured sobs muffled by the feathers.Â
âYou squeezed so tightly around my fingers; I canât wait to see how youâll feel when you come around my cock.â Bucky grunted as he ploughed into you. His hand fists around your loose hair, fingers tangling through the locks as he tugs. Tears are beginning to prickle in your eyes, and your legs are wobbling from the sensation.Â
âPleaseââ you gasp out.Â
âPlease, what?â The gangster asks, tugging harder. The hand on your hip is squeezing tighter as he holds you in place.Â
âPleaseâI need toââ
âNo.â He growls, tugging you upward. You fall backwards into his lap once more, his cock still inside you but somehow deeper from the angle he holds you. âYou need to finish the ritual, remember? I canât have you guide me if youâre too fucked out to talk.â
Another sob leaves you, but you wordlessly nod. You hold onto the burning sensation in your gut, the waves of satisfaction so immense that your limbs tremble. Bucky continues to fuck up into you, his cock steadily driving into you as his free hand comes to lazily swirl your swollen clit.Â
You try to remember words, instructions, anything. You feel too high to even breathe. All you can do is focus on the sensation of the necklace rubbing against your back and the friction burning against your skin.Â
âFocus on the necklace. How it feels around your neck.â You squeak out, your eyes squeezed shut, as you try to ground yourself. âFocus on the feeling of the chain, the weight of the jewel. Think of your blood, how a piece of you is painted onto it.â
There is a moment of silence between the two of you, only the slapping of skin and the rasping of breath.Â
âAre you focused on it?â You ask.
âYes.â The gangster cuts back. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy.Â
âFocus.â You whisper, though a breathy moan leaves you. âFeel your energy flow; feel your blood seep into the stone. Picture how it will shatter beneath your power.â
His hips jerk beneath you, his finger on your clit swirling faster. Your breath comes in sharp stutters, your back arching as you find no way to escape the rising sensation. His back is rock solid behind you, his hands keeping you in place as you begin to spiral. Your pussy tightens around him as you begin to screamâ
âPlease, Bucky. Please!â
Something snaps between the both of you, his hips jerking wildly as he spills into you. He moans into your ear at a deafening level, his fingers digging into your thighs. You double over in pleasure, your vision briefly going black as you cry out. Sparks dance across your skin, your body momentarily alight as the power of magic flows through you. You can feel the rush as your energy meets Buckyâs entangling with one another in a fierce battle. For a second, you feel intoxicated, colours bursting across your sight as the rush of magic rests in your chest, and then, just as quickly as it arrived, it cascades out of you.
Behind you, the sound of shattering can be heard above the moans. Â
Panting, Bucky releases you. You slump to the floor, off his lap. His cum drips from your pussy, thighs wet as sticky as you close your eyes, desperately trying to catch your breath. You roll onto your back, pressing your thighs together. Through heavy-lidded eyes, you look down at Bucky. He sits kneeling, dishevelled. His hair is ruffled, blood is still smeared along his cheek, and his shirt is untucked and creased.Â
At some point, he has tucked his cock away, suspenders hanging loosely by his hips. His gaze is not on you; rather, it is solely focused on the necklace in his palm. You go to lift your head, but you find yourself too weak and exhausted to bother. A mixture of being too fucked out to care and the lack of energy from acting as a conduit for the ritual.Â
âDid it work?â You ask the gangster, and his eyes finally pull up to look at you. His gaze wanders over your face, examining your swollen lips, the blush across your cheeks, and the areas where exposed skin remains. He cracks a grin, lifting his hand. The necklace dangles from his fingers, the large, blue jewel now gifted with a large crack down the centre.Â
You let out a sigh of relief, letting your head fall back as you stared up at the ceiling. Your eyes flicker closed, a sleepy warmth prickling across your scalp.Â
âDoll?â
Your eyes snap open with a jolt.Â
âItâs all done? The curse is gone?â The gangster questions. You weakly nod in reply.
âHer spirit and whatever curse she held have been released.â You affirm, voice sleepy, relaxing back into the pillows and blankets. âApologies. This type of spell drains me.â
Bucky chuckles. You were just glad you had enough sense near the end to actually guide him. The gangster appeared to be attempting to prove something with the orgasms he extracted from you. In the state you were in, you had little reason to complain.Â
When you opened your eyes again, he was across the room, vest on and jacket slung over his arm.
âIâll leave your payment downstairs.â He says, only pausing to look down at you, still curled up on the floor. You blink up at him sleepily. âThanks for your help, spirit-raiser.â
You canât find the energy to correct him.
PONY CLUB (PART 2)
#bucky barnes x you#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky x female reader#mob boss bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x y/n#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#marvel au#marvel#marvel fic#peaky blinders au#mobster au#gangster au#fantasy au
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Hi, Hello and Welcome To Todayâs Gym Thought..
Featuring Mob!Bucky
Â
He has you against a wall in the darkest corner of his club, your leg hiked high around his waist, the slit of your dress allowing him easy access to your smooth skin. Â
âThis mouth of yours almost cost us our shipment, doesnât know when to quit,â he growls lips slotting over yours in a bruising kiss, you return his fervor arms curling around his shoulders, fingers finding their way into his hair.Â
The laugh he draws from you is airy, âyou were letting them walk over you, if I hadnât stepped in we would have lost them for sure,â you breathe into his lips. âThe only good thing that comes out of your mouth is when itâs buried between my thighs.âÂ
He presses you harder into the wall, hand finding your neck, he wants to break you. âIâm your dadâs business partner sweetheart, not yours.âÂ
You reciprocate, tugging his hair at the same time you push your hips into his, a delicious groan bubbling from the man's chest, he tightens his hold around your throat, âand yet daddy didnât trust you enough to come meet them alone, sent me right along to make sure you didnât fail.âÂ
âShut the fuck up,â he growls his body pressing into yours.Â
The hands that were curled in his hair find their way to the fronts of his slacks, the air is electric around the two of you as you pop the button, fingers pulling down the zipper achingly slow.Â
 âMake me.â Â
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Cravings
18+ MINORS DNI!!!
Full Masterlist Legend Masterlist
Pairing: Reggie Kray x fem!pregnant reader
Summary: Your pregnant and get cravingsâŚ
Warnings: Swearing,cravings,pregnancy!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)
"Reggie!" I whispered into his ear, poking his side with your pointer finger.
"Mh?" Reggie groaned turning in his sleep.
"Reggie baby..m'craving a'gain" i whispered louder in his ear.
"Again? What do'ya want this time?" He muttered into my neck, his other hand massaging my hips.
"Mmh...an ice lolly" I whispered with a shit eating grin.
"Of course why am I shocked" Reggie chuckled as he gave me a kiss and got up from the bed.
-
"Thank you baby" I said as I tried to take the lolly off of Reggie but he kept pulling it away smirking widely as he did.
"Reg..give it please..." i whined but he didn't give in.
"What's the magic word?" He smirked
"Give it"
"Nope" he grinned pulling his hand away.
"Pretty Please..the boys are hungry" i whined with a pout looking down at my bump,
"Fine.. the magic word was noodles but I'll give it to ya cause I feel bad" he handed it to me smiling.
âDickâ i gave him a playful nudge when he sat back down giving my bump a kiss before giving me a kiss.
#x reader#kray brothers#mafiaau#kray twins#mafia bf#reggie kray#reggie kray x reader#reggiekray#ron kray#the krays#Reggie Kray x fem!reader#Reggie Kray x you#y/n fic#fanfic#fanficiton#Masterlist#ron kray x reader#Ronnie Kray#Reginald Kray#legend#legend film#mobster#gangster#Tom hardy#Tom hardy x reader#Tom hardy fanfic#Tom hardy x you#Tom hardy legend#Tom hardy x y/n#beahlegend
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The Partner
Steve and Bucky were meeting with a new partner, another mobster named Ivanov. They had just finished negotiations, and the atmosphere had shifted from tense business discussions to more relaxed, casual conversation. Ivanov leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face as he sipped his drink.
Just then, Yn entered the room. As always, she walked straight to Bucky, her presence commanding immediate attention. Without hesitation, she greeted him with a kiss, her lips brushing his with a tenderness that momentarily softened his usual stern expression.
Ivanov, watching the exchange with a curious gleam in his eye, leaned forward and made a comment, his tone dripping with amusement. "You know, she doesn't realize how powerful I am. A woman like that should know her place."
The room went silent, the casual conversation halting abruptly. The easy-going atmosphere evaporated, replaced by a palpable tension. Bucky's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Yn's demeanor changed.
Bucky recognized the shift immediately. Her posture straightened, and her gaze sharpened. What he referred to as her "formidable" side had emerged.
Yn took a seat comfortably, her movements measured and deliberate. She crossed her legs, her calm and composed exterior belying the intensity that lay beneath. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to speak.
"Mr. Ivanov, I might not know much about power in the way you understand it, but I can tell a good story. Something from history that I find fascinating."
The room, already tense, grew even quieter. Everyone listened intently as Yn spoke.
"Let me tell you about Cesare Borgia, a man consumed by his quest for power. In the early 1500s, Cesare used his father, Pope Alexander VIâs influence to dominate Italy through cunning and brutality. He manipulated and eliminated rivals, consolidating his power without restraint."
Ivanov 's smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing as he listened.
"However," Yn continued, "his obsession with power led to his downfall. When his father died, Cesare lost his key ally. The new pope opposed him, and his enemies rose against him. Stripped of his power, he was captured and died in obscurity."
Bucky watched Yn with a mix of admiration and awe. Her calm, measured tone and the intensity in her eyes made it clear she was not to be underestimated.
"Cesare's relentless pursuit of dominance blinded him to the need for stability and alliances," Yn said, her gaze unwavering. "In our own lives, we must use power responsibly, understanding that true strength lies in restraint and respect for others. By treating those around us with kindness and empathy, we can avoid the pitfalls of unchecked ambition."
Ivanov was speechless, his earlier bravado completely gone. The rest of the room was equally silent, everyone taken aback by Yn's unexpected but poignant lesson.
Bucky felt a surge of pride and a touch of amusement. He knew she had left a significant impression. He glanced around the room, seeing the stunned expressions on his associates' faces.
Yn removed her glasses with a measured, deliberate motion, placing them on the table. This simple act made the others exchange knowing glances, recognizing the shift in her demeanor.
"Power does not corrupt men," she added, her voice firm. "But only fools who keep displaying it, thus reducing the command it has."
The room seemed to shrink around Ivanov, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact with Yn. Her words had cut through his bravado, leaving him exposed.
The silence was thick with tension, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Yn's gaze never wavered, her presence commanding and authoritative.
Bucky could see the discomfort in Ivanov 's eyes, a stark contrast to the confidence he had shown earlier. It was clear that Yn had not only made her point but had done so in a way that left no room for argument.
The others, still processing what had just happened, felt a mixture of admiration and respect for Yn. Bucky's heart swelled with pride, knowing that she had, once again, shown her formidable intellect and strength.
Finally, Ivanov mumbled, "I see your point," though his voice lacked its earlier conviction. Yn simply nodded, her message delivered with precision and impact.
Yn's gaze remained steady, her voice smooth yet sharp. "I know you do. You seem like an intelligent man, not falling into the same trenches as Cesare Borgia did."
She took a moment to let her words sink in before continuing, "It was, however, nice to meet you."
With that, Yn walked calmly to the bar, where she poured herself a glass of water. Her demeanor was poised and composed, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere in the room. The others remained silent, clearly taken aback by the gravity of her words and the ease with which she had dismantled Ivanov âs bravado.
As she sipped her water, the room was filled with a palpable respect for Ynâs ability to handle the situation with such grace and authority. Bucky watched her with a mixture of admiration and deep affection, knowing that her strength and intellect were unmatched.
"Well said, doll," he thought to himself. "You certainly know how to make an impact."
Ivanov glanced at Bucky with a smirk and asked, âSo sheâs your girl?â
Buckyâs chest swelled with pride as he replied, âNo, Ivanov , actually I am her man.â
The room erupted in light-hearted chuckles, the tension from earlier melting away. Buckyâs statement, delivered with genuine affection, softened the atmosphere and highlighted the deep respect he had for Yn. The others, amused and supportive, shared knowing smiles, appreciating the bond between Bucky and Yn
As Ivanov exited the room, the door closing behind him, Bucky could no longer contain the swell of pride and admiration he felt for Yn. Without a second thought, he pulled her close and sealed his feelings with a passionate kiss.
#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky x ofc#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#mafia!bucky#mafia#mafia bucky#bucky barnes mafia#mafia au#mob!bucky#mobster au#mob au#mob#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x y/n
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You belong to me
âżMobster!Hongjoongâ¸Â
TW: cursing, violence, death, gun, suggestive
Word count: 3,3k
A/N: How do I stop the grip Ateez has on me?? What do you mean Hongjoong posts some pictures and I get a story idea?? Ugh, anyways, this is just a short drabble because why is Kim Hongjoong so hot and what is his latest Instagram post of his??
          The strobing lights of the club were blinding for a few seconds to the newcomers, their eyes forced to quickly adjust to the dim yellowish lightning and the strong pink, purple, and red led lights. They were strung around the club, overhead, lighting up every area of the luxurious place, but they were the strongest on the stage, where dancers walked around and performed using whatever instrument they preferred as props. Some nights I enjoyed pole dancing, but most nights I liked it when I could improvise, dance freely and get lost to the feeling of the freedom music provided. Perhaps my job of choice wasnât ideal nor well-liked by most people, especially not by my parents, but it paid well and helped me get by quite decently.
It took a little while to get used to the lack of clothing and the hungry of those watching, but in no-time I found myself enjoying the attention, the cheers, the loud howls after my performancesâŚand perhaps the most I enjoyed was the pay check each evening, and the bills men desperate for attention and the touch of a woman would slip into my thin panties or obnoxiously short shorts. The club was in the high-end of the city, only wealthy and influential men visited, courtesy to Kim Hongjoong. A scarily rich and affluential man, well known for his crazed behavior and dangerous affairs with gangs downtown. He was the boss of the underdogs, the man everyone avoided if possible and only got involved with if only very necessary. He was the owner of the club and he took his job very seriously, treating his employees with respect and care, always checking up on them. Misbehaving wasnât allowed inside his club, and he punished those who didnât understand this by using creative methods. I had the misfortune of walking in on him waterboarding a man, saying something about how he didnât respect his end of the deal, before Hongjoongâs eyes found me and I was ushered out of his office, his eyes conveying a silent warning to stay quiet about what I had seen. And I had no intention of telling anyone what I had witnessed, afraid to meet a similar fate to that man.
Kim Hongjoong was someone whom I feared, but also respected. He was diligent and worked hard, at the end of each shift checking in with his performers, making sure they werenât forced into doing something they didnât want, checking their bodies for any injuries. At first, I had assumed that he paid more attention to me because I was new, because he didnât fully trust me yet, and because he was keeping an eye on me to make sure I was being ethical, but upon closer inspection, Iâve come to the realization that Kim Hongjoong didnât follow every performers steps with watchful eyes, he didnât buy them drinks once their shifts were over, and he most certainly didnât arrange his personal driver to drive them home at the crack of dawn, when the streets were deserted and dangerous for a young woman, like myself, to be walking home alone. And Kim Hongjoong certainly didnât hold his other performers lower backs as he walked them back to their dressing rooms, throwing clothes at them and demanding to cover themselves up. I had assumed there might have been some favoritism towards me as I drew in clients which were filthy rich, but Kim Hongjoong quickly ruined that thought when I overstepped a boundary and meddled with his personal business. He was quick to threaten me that heâd ruin my life if I went running to the police, making me feel small and stupid for even trying to blackmail him. I donât know what I had been thinking when I did that, but if Hongjoong had paid attention to me up until that point, after my foolish threat he became overbearing, always two steps behind me, and eyes fixed on me during my shifts. It was scary and irritating at the beginning, but I grew used to it after a year of his unceasing behavior and learned to live with the manâs antics. There were times when we ran into each other at the most random places, places where Hongjoong looked completely out of place adorned in his crazily expensive tailored suit, and sleeked back hair. One of said places was the grocery store across from my apartment complex, completely startling me into oblivion as I had been buying some milk, his reflection appearing behind me in the glass door as I had closed it. What was even more unusual was the way he told me I had twenty minutes to get ready before weâd be going out, to where, he didnât mention. But it turned out he took me out to dinner at a very fancy restaurant. Not many words were exchanged between the two of us during the dinner, but the food had been good nonetheless and neither one of us brought it up ever again.
Tonight hadnât been any usual, I had walked inside the club around eight in the evening, going to my dressing room and dressing up for the night, doing my makeup and hair. When I pushed the door open an outfit had been laid out on my couch and my eyebrows furrowed as I took in the schoolgirl outfit, slightly uncomfortable having to wear it, but when I noticed a note on top of it and signed as KH¸ I knew I didnât have a choice but to wear it. And my shift had started out as usual, I was up on the stage and performing by ten oâclock, putting on my best performance and charming men left and right. The cheers were louder than usual and I was requested to put on a second show, surprised by the incessant attention, but not completely bothered as I knew the pay check would be higher tonight. Of course, I didnât miss the way Kim Hongjoong watched both of my performances, leaning against the bar stool, hip resting against it, and a glass filled with whiskey gripped in his hand as his eyes trailed over my body multiple times, following every move of mine. But the night didnât stop there, and I had gotten my first ever request for a private performance. The others who I worked with had plenty experience with that, but it had been my first time and I was feeling nervous. Yeji had been nice enough to walk me through the steps of what this meant and what was required of me, and she made sure to repeat the rules multiple times, making me repeat them after her. The private rooms were small and dimly lit, a huge sofa inside with a coffee table in front of it. There was a stereo and a pole in the corner of the room.
The man who had request for a private dance was gruffy and on the older side, but he was well dressed and looked put together as he sipped on his expensive champagne, grinning when I had walked inside. I pushed down my nerves and ignored the slight tremble of my limbs as I thanked the man for the request and stated the rules firmly, reminding him multiple times that he wasnât allowed to touch me unless I gave him permission, before I put on the music and started dancing, using the pole as well. It felt weird performing for one man only and I found myself uncomfortable as the man watched me with hungry eyes, his grip on the glass tightening with each passing minute, making me hope that the booked time would be soon over. Half an hour wasnât much at all, but it felt like an eternity, and I had to force myself to imagine the man I was dancing for was someone elseâŚsomeone younger, someone more handsome, someone whoâs smile was crazed and his cat-like eyes burned holes into your skull, gazing deeply into your soul. When the music finally stopped, I felt like I could breathe again, desperate to get out and away from the eyes of the man, who was licking his lips hungrily as I stepped away from the pole and bowed slightly, going up to the coffee table to collect my payment, but as I reached out, his warm hand grabbed my wrist tightly.
âIâll pay twice as much for a lap dance.â I was stunned for a second as I looked at the man, softly trying to pry my wrist out of his hold.
âYou paid for half an hour, sir, Iâm afraid we part ways here.â I kept my voice leveled and the man didnât seem to appreciate what he heard as he scoffed.
âTwice is not good enough for you? Fine, then Iâll pay thrice the amount I just paid right now.â And then, a nasty smirk spread on his lips, as he unexpectedly yanked on my wrist, making me fall onto his lap, âDonât be shy, baby girl, I donât bite. Unless you want me to.â
I felt disgust wash over me and I gasped, trying to push myself off him, but he had sneaked an arm around my middle and squeezed me to himself. My skin tingled and my stomach flipped, bile rising up into my throat. I tried to keep the scowl off my face, but I couldnât help it as my eyes hardened.
âI stated clearly you are not allowed to touch me, so let go of me, right now.â I demanded, trying to push myself off of him again as the man just scoffed and looked at me with an amused expression.
âReally? I think you do want me to touch you, baby girl. Youâre just playing hard to get, but you donât have to do that with me, I already want you badly.â As if to prove a point, he bucked his hips upwards and disgust coursed through my veins and showed on my face as I felt his hard-on, balling my hands up into fists, ready to pound them into his face.
âRelease me, right now.â I snapped, voice harsher than ever before as I felt my hands trembling, hating the smug look on the motherfuckerâs face as he went to push my hair behind my shoulders, but I quickly slapped his hand away, hard.
âDonât be rude, I just paid you, bitch.â He hissed and I chuckled.
âAnd I said let go of me, you old fuck.â I hissed, squaring the man up. Before he could open his mouth to say anything back, I heard the curtain behind me separating us from the rest of the club pulled open harshly, and a familiar voice sounding eerily calm.
âWas the lady not clear enough the first time?â I could hear the sneer in Kim Hongjoongâs voice and I turned my head, taken aback by the dark look on his face, the harsh clenching of his jaw and the handgun in his left hand. I tried not to let my surprise show as I shoved at the man again, but he still didnât let go of me. It was getting frustrating and I raised my hand and slapped him, momentarily taking him off guard as I swiftly slipped out of his loosened grip.
âYou bitch!â The old man yelled and stood, but didnât get far as Hongjoong pointed his gun at the man, an amused smirk appearing on his lips. He walked further inside the room, with his right hand in his pocket, and came to a stop next to me as I had put distance between the man and myself. He chuckled as his eyes rested on me for a few seconds, lazily looking back at the older man.
âYou said youâll pay thrice the amount? I donât see the moneyââ
âAnd you wonât see it, fucker, Iâm not paying this bitch at all.â And the man snatched the money, fallen on the couch now, up with anger written all over his face as Hongjoong chuckled, and suddenly I felt his right arm draping over my shoulders, yanking me into his side. I stumbled slightly and gasped quietly, surprised by Hongjoongâs actions.
âThatâs very unfortunate,â Hongjoong sighed dramatically and I felt his fingers rubbing my shoulder, a sly grin slipping onto his lips, âI must demand you apologize to Y/N for disrespecting her and clearly not following the rules.â
The man chuckled and eyed Hongjoong as if he were crazy, âYou wish, fucker. This club is a piece of shit, Iâm going to ruin you and your shitty ass business.â
âFor somebody your age your vocabulary is quite lacking.â The manâs face turned red at the insult, prompting Hongjoong to chuckle as I tried to hide my own amused smirk, staring the old man down. Hongjoongâs hand suddenly started slipping low, down to my middle until it stopped at my waist and suddenly he was looking at me, eyes glazed over with a crazy glint in them, lips pulled into a grin resembling that of a Chesire catâs, âTell me, gorgeous, what should I do with him now?â
My mind was blank as I stared into Hongjoongâs deep eyes, getting lost in them, feeling drawn to him as if he were a magnet, âWhatever you wish, Hongjoong.â
A wide, satisfied, grin appeared on his lips as he bit his lower lip, eyes glinting in the dim light, âAnything?â
I gulped and found myself breathless, his expensive cologne invading my senses and his warmth making my skin warm in the best possible way, âYou are the boss.â
Hongjoong chuckled and looked satisfied as he turned his head to face the older man, clicking his tongue as he shook his head at him, âLook at youâŚI hope you said your goodbyes before coming here, because you wonât be doing any talking no more with that foul mouth of yours, you old pig.â
And Hongjoong raised his arm, the safety off as he pulled the trigger, the gun silent, yet still making my ears ring as I jumped in Hongjoongâs hold, squeezing my eyes shut. He had shot the man, pulled the trigger like it meant nothing, as if taking away a life meant nothing to him. I felt myself tremble as Hongjoongâs hold tightened around me and I was being moved, my back turned to the dead man as I felt hands cupping my face, âOpen your eyes, gorgeous. Look at me.â
I gulped and took a shaky breath, body trembling as I forced myself to look at Hongjoong, taken aback by the cold expression on his face. He looked unphased, almost content, as he caressed my cheeks, leaning dangerously close as his eyebrows furrowed, he was no longer holding the gun, âNobody but me is allowed to touch you, gorgeous, do you understand?â
I gulped and nodded wordlessly, trying to ignore the stench of blood which permeated the room suddenly, the hairs on my arms standing as my muscles were tense, âUse your words, Y/N.â
âI understand.â I whispered, voice shaky, as I stared into Hongjoongâs eyes, a pleased expression crossing his features. He hummed before suddenly whistling, startling me as Hongjoong released me, but grabbed the back of my head to prevent me from turning around, as if I had doing that in mind. Suddenly, four men walked inside, men I havenât seen before, and Hongjoong glanced at them and nodded behind me wordlessly, the men springing into action. They walked past us and I realized they were here to take care of the dead man, but we didnât stick around for longer as Hongjoong suddenly turned and started leading us out of the room and towards my dressing room, making me nervous as I tried to ignore the whirling thoughts that I was witness to my boss killing someone. What if the police come searching for the dead man? What if they question me? I knew Hongjoong wouldnât hesitate killing me too, the thought made it a bit hard to breathe, but I just kept stiffly walking as Hongjoongâs hand slipped to my nape, veering me around effortlessly and away from the curious eyes as he pushed me inside my dressing room and closed the door with a loud slam. I jumped and detached myself from him, putting distance between our bodies as I whirled around, looking at Hongjoong with wide eyes. He was smirking as he leaned against the door, rubbing his chin as he placed his hand in his pocket. I gulped and waited for him to say something, but he just took out his pack of cigarettes and lit a cigar, inhaling deeply before exhaling slowly. Our eyes locked together and I gulped, suddenly feeling exposed.
âLetâs be honest with each other, Y/N.â Hongjoong spoke up after he took another drag of his cigar, âWill I have to worry about you rattling to others about what you just witnessed?â
I gulped, lacing my fingers together in front of myself, âWill you kill me if I did?â
âOf course.â Hongjoong answered without hesitation and my gut twisted, hands suddenly trembling again. I gulped and nodded, letting him know that I understood.
âThen I wonât say anything to anyone.â I found myself quietly saying, âBut you have to promise to help me out when the police gets involved.â
Hongjoong chuckled, and took another long drag of his cigar as he suddenly pushed off the door, and walked towards me, âOh, gorgeous, do not worry about the police. Even they know not to meddle with my business. This will be our little secret; can you keep it?â
He blew the smoke in my face and I gulped, trying to not cringe from the smell, âIâllâI promise to keep this a secret.â
âLovely.â Hongjoong whispered as he threw his cigar on the floor and stepped on it, making my eyes widen as he burned out the carpet, but he seemed uncaring of it as he placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head up, looking me in the eyes, âPrivate shows are off limits from now on, to everyone. Understood, gorgeous?â
âYes.â I muttered, and my breath stilled in my lungs as Hongjoong leaned incredibly close, his lips ghosting over mine as he smirked.
âThese men will be never able to offer you what I can give you.â And Hongjoong pressed his lips against mine, harsh and hungry as they slipped open while his hand slipped to my neck, wrapping around it as his body was pressed flush against mine. I gasped into the kiss as I felt his tongue pushing past my lips, exploring my mouth, groaning into it as Hongjoong devoured my lips ferociously, walking us backwards. I grabbed the sides of his suit and held onto him, blindly letting Hongjoong walk me anywhere, his sweet taste blooming in my mouth as he sucked on my tongue, my fingers tangling in his black hair, the back of my legs hitting the sofa behind me suddenly. Hongjoong quickly cut the kiss short and pushed me down by my neck, making me look up at him in confusion as he smirked, easing me down into the cushions. My heart was thundering in my chest as his eyes burned with want and passion, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of me, gripping my thighs as my skin flamed, making me gulp as my hands clenched into fists at my sides, chest heaving. He slowly peeled my legs open and yanked me lower on the sofa, biting his lower lip as his eyes followed the smooth skin of my legs, stopping just where my skirt had ridden up. He licked his lips, a hungry look in his eyes as he looked up at me, leaning closer.
âLet me show you how queens get treated, gorgeous.â
Masterlist
#bvidzsoo#cromernet#kim hongjoong#hongjoong x reader#ateez hongjoong#kim hongjoong x reader#hongjoong smut#kim hongjoong smut#hongjoong drabble#kim hongjoong drabble#hongjoong scenarios#kim hongjoong scenarios#hongjoong imagines#kim hongjoong imagine#hongjoong fluff#kim hongjoong fluff#hongjoong angst#kim hongjoong angst#kim hongjoong fanfic#ateez drabbles#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez mobster au
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lorenzoâs luck.
pairings. mobster!slytherin boys x fem!reader
about. in which itâs been a rough couple of weeks and lorenzo is facing the heat of it all.
warnings. swearing, a beating,
ricky rocks. okay, new idea sense iâve been watching the sopranos lately and writing generic slytherin boys is getting boring for me rn⌠also iâve been seeing some stuff abt lorenzo on tiktok and even something on here and i think i characterized him totally wrong? but also not because i read the book (but not really) he originally came from and he didnât seem as sweet and innocent as people play him as. idk, iâll stick to what i have now but lmk what yâall think ig
everything and everyone was on edge.
for the past two weeks the feds had been down your neck, jeopardizing your whole lifestyle and way of work.
everyone was in a pissy mood because of itâbecause when the feds were on your ass, that meant having to be careful, and your job was hard thing to be careful about when every move you made was highly incriminating. so when being careful, you barely got to work, and no work meant no profit.
it was hard to specify exactly what you did.
you were a mobster.
there it is, in the simplest form.
there was a lot of pressure in being one, especially when law enforcement was there to make things ten times harder.
and it wasnât only affecting you, but entirety of your group;
âyouâre a fuckinâ idiot, lorenzo, you realize that? take a fuckinâ look at yourself in the mirror and stare at something that isnât just your face and realize youâre a fool,â mattheoâs voice erupts so suddenly through the air, startling all of you. âget your shit together.â
it was already starting. you, theodore, blaise, lorenzo, and mattheo had just barely taken a step into one of the many backrooms of the businesses mattheoâs father owned when the composure came fumbling down.
lorenzo had just barely sat his ass in one of the leather seats when the attention was pinned to him, âjesus, whatâs up youâre ass m?â he laughs, but you can tell itâs a nervous one. âjesus.â
you glance to theodore who winces at the response like it was his own. that was the worst possible thing to say, especially to mattheo, especially right now where his anger and frustration was at an all time high.
you can see that anger pulse through his skin in a spike as he finally seems to processes lorenzoâs antagonizing words.
oh boy.
âfuckinâ saved your ass, enzo. you know what my fathers saying? that youâre a loose fucking cannon and i need to let you go,â he has his hand raised, shaking it in his face. âand you know what? we donât let people go. thereâs no such thing as letting someone go in our business. thatâs a rare ever occurrence.â
letting someone go is disposing them. taking them out to the back and putting them down like a dog.
âget your head on straight and donât you forget that you wouldnât be here without me, because youâd be dead.â
âyou act like youâre so fucking clear minded,â he huffs, leaning his head against the palm of hand.
that was enough.
mattheo swings himself around, throwing his fist into the face of enzo as hard as he can. you flinch at the sound of enzoâs nose cracking beneath the contact of mattheo's knuckles. you feel yourself tense up at the noise not letting up, but rather playing over and over, filling the room with ugly sounds of punches fill the room.
âmattheo-â
your call out is cut off as theodore takes your shoulder, pulling you back, âdonât.â
âheâs going to kill him.â
âhe wonât,â he pulls you even closer and further away from the violent scene unfolding before you all, tightening his grip. âlorenzoâs too viable.â
he was right. even as enzo was a loose canon, he brought in a lot of profit and kept his end clean⌠for the most part.
lo was too salient for mattheo to kill, but his loud mouth was enough to tip mattheo over the edge.
it was a perfect way for him to blow off steam; beating in the face of his friend.
***
âdonât you look like a dime.â
itâs been a week since mattheo went on his little rampage, and you were now just seeing lorenzo in his healing state.
youâre smiling up at him, pinching his cheek as he rolls his eyes to your attention, âyeah, yeah, get off my back.â
he looked far from a dime; his nose was broken causing both his eyes to sport dark rings of bruising around them while the lining of his jaw was turning a dark purple and yellow.
âyou and mattheo civil now?â
âdefine your idea of civil.â
âwell, youâre not dead, so I assume you two are as civil as civil gets in mattheoâs terms.â
he scoffs, âyeah, well, letâs hope mattheo and his father are on the same page and I donât end up dead in the next week.â
over a month ago, some of lorenzoâs boys hijacked a truck everyone was told specifically not to mess with despite the fair amount of profit that could come from it. and unfortunately, they dug themselves an already deep hole, deeper by obtaining the truck through a casualty.
lorenzo had received the blame, despite it having nothing to do with him other than the men being under his supervision and responsibility. he had to pay for it, and he didâŚ
âyouâre on the higher end of things, he wonât kill you.â
âthatâd be the exact reason for him to kill me,â lorenzo corrects you. âIâm on the higher end for a reason, i canât fuck up.â
you press your lips into a thin line at the thought of his words. mattheoâs beating mustâve really enlightened lorenzo because there was rarely ever a moment you caught him in such a grave mood where he was so in touch with reality.
his attitude on life was light and so unserious; you were unsure on how mattheo even recruited him when that was the exact opposite that this job sought out for. but then again, the boy recruited all of you.
âthen donât fuck up,â he laughs lightly, but itâs caught in the back of his throat. âagain.â
âgreat advice, y/l/n,â he glances at you, âreally got that one on the nose.â
âdonât be a douche,â you slap him lightly. âI donât know what you want me to say, lo. youâre alive, youâll stay that way too as long as you donât press your luck.â
âhard to press my luck when I donât have any in the first place.â
you gaze at the side of his face, attempting to gage the general emotion or even thought process going through his head, but there was nothing. not even his usual perma-smile could be found.
***
âsomeone approached me awhile ago-â
âwho?â
âdoesnât matter whoâa clients girlfriend,â lorenzo is anxious, pacing back and forth before all of you in the backyard of mattheoâs home. âi was offered a deal.â
you wince immediately.
lorenzo had collected the whole lot of you; everyone except mattheo. you all sat on his back deck, fixating between the full beautiful greenery backyard of the riddle home and lorenzo, who hadn't spoken till now.
a deal.
he shouldâve stopped there.
âa deal?â blaise arched a brow, now leaning on his forearms that rest on his knees. âwhat kind of deal?â
you all knew exactly what type of deal it was.
enzoâs eyes donât reach any yours, but heâs stopped pacing, wondering whether he should really speak it now.
donât say it.
âimmunity,â he says it flat out, bringing truth to all of your thoughts. but he doesnât seem ashamed to this with the way he looks at each and every one of you in the eye finally. âshe said once we all get impounded, thereâs a way out for me.â
once. not if.
âi tell them everything. i rat every single one of you out and iâm given immunity.â
you all look up at him like heâs crazy. and he is; to be speaking like this to a bunch of mobstersâthreatening the entirety of their life and business is crazy.
âwe get thirty years plus. thereâs no doubt. they get us and weâre already laid in our graves before trial because what weâve done is absurd-â
âare you saying youâre a rat, berkshire?â
âno,â he shakes his head fast. âno, not at all.â
âthatâs not what iâm hearing,â draco shakes his head. âiâm hearing youâre getting nervous with all this recent snooping of the feds and youâre fuckinâ rat.â
âfuck off, malfoy. iâm just telling you what i was told. iâm not a goddamn rat. iâd have to be mental to give up all weâve done-â his hand finds his forehead and heâs pacing again. âfuck if i even remember half of it.â
youâre all back to silence, thinking about this. rat or not, this did not look good for him.
your eyes suddenly settle on the light and distant bruising under enzoâs eyes; finally healing. you think about mattheo beating in his face over and over, and then you think about what heâd do if he ever found out about lorenzoâs offer.
âthey have a lot of shit on mattheo.â
you all look back up to lorenzo now, a certain interest now crossing each of you again.
âwhat type of shit exactly?â
âtype of shit you donât get parole with⌠or out of jail for that matter,â he looks even more stressed than before. âshe said the rest of you could have chances of a life after serving. not him.â
this wasnât a surprise. mattheo always had a quality that none of you did when it came to getting things done; something sociopathic. he always took risk without question of consequence. he moved in silence, he didnât hesitate, didnât think, he always got things done faster than all of you combined.
so if mattheo did something beyond all of your usual tasks, you wouldnât be surprised.
âi mean that makes sense, mattyâs been at this longer than the rest of us,â you reasoned it out, only to be stopped immediately.
âno, you donât understand,â enzo shook his head.
âwhat exactly are we not understanding here, enzo? you seem to know something, so why donât you just spit it out,â theodore sits up, speaking for once. thereâs obvious annoyance and distaste in his mouth as he stares at the boy before you with a narrowed look.
lorenzo pauses, looking back at him with the same look. you can tell thereâs a thought process behind his eyes, and his anxiousness is slowly melting away.
âyou know, where do you guys think this is all going? genuinely. you think weâre going to spend the next couple of months running clubs, collecting money, and beating up the occasional person thatâs late on their payments for fun?â lorenzo has turned sour, looking at each of you almost as if he hates you all for your ignorance. âthis is for life, and weâre only at the beginning point.â
#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#mafia#mobsters#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo berkshire imagine#lorenzo berkshire#enzo x reader#louis partridge#louis partridge x reader#louis partridge imagine#harry potter imagine#slytherin#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#blaise zabini x reader#blaise zabini imagine#blaise imagine#blaise zabini#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter
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Bucky & Ducky (2) - Warming up
Summary: Bucky Barnes. Ruthless mafia boss. Soft only for his wife andâŚwell, Ducky.
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader
Side pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Ducky the duck
Warnings: mafia business, fluff, unusual friendship
A/N: Thanks to @buck-star for the idea and brainstorming with me. I did itâŚđ
Bucky & Ducky Masterlist
Catch up here: Part 1
âCan you believe that punk dared to threaten my business, Ducky?â Bucky walked out of the bathroom to get ready to join you for dinner. After taking a relaxed bath, he hastily got out of the tub. He considered leaving Ducky alone in the tub but decided against it.
Only to make sure the duckling wonât poop into the tub or drown, he told himself.
He put the duckling on a fluffy towel and watched it clumsily wiggle on top of the towel, trying to escape while he got dressed. Bucky chuckled when the duckling started to tug at the towel angrily.
âNo escaping, punk,â he said, and stepped toward the bed to look down at the tiny and vulnerable duckling. âYou didnât have an easy life, huh? They wanted to get rid of you because you were the weakest.â
Somehow, Bucky felt sorry for the duckling. No one gave Ducky a chance until now.
âYou got lucky, punk. Y/N loves to save hopeless cases. She took me home too, one night, after someone stabbed me behind her bakery.â
Ducky lifted its head to look up at the tall mobster. It seems as if the little creature was listening to Buckyâs story. âIt was only a scratch, but she turned full nurse, and that was when I fell in love with her. Y/N is too good for me and so sweet. So, if you want to stay here, you better not break her heart.â
âBuck? Baby?â You called from downstairs. âBaby, did you fall asleep in the bathtub? Do you want to eat in bed?â
âWe are coming, doll,â Bucky immediately answered. You heard his footsteps get closer and hurriedly walked inside the dining room to check on the food.
âIn here,â you called for your husband. He allowed you to keep the duckling so you would pay him back with a romantic candlelight dinner. âI got a surprise for you.â
âUhâme too,â Bucky walked inside the dining room, Ducky in his arms. He put one of the fuzzy socks you bought for him around the ducklingâs small body to keep Ducky warm. âI think he doesnât want to be alone.â
âHe?â You pressed one hand to your mouth to stop yourself from giggling. âOh, the duckling.â Nodding, you pointed at the food. âMaybe we should find a box for him orâŚâ
âNo, no. I think he should sit with me. We donât want him to believe we will abandon him too,â Bucky hastily said. He stepped closer to softly kiss your cheek. âThe food looks good, baby doll. Thank you.â
You were stunned by his words. Bucky Barnes wanted to have dinner with a duckling by his side. âNo, thank you, Bucky.â You return the kiss, giggling as he purrs your name. âYouâre the best.â
Bucky smiled. He loves hearing you think highly of him. Not because it strokes his ego. No. It simply tells him that heâs not the bad guy he believes he is.
âLetâs eat,â you pointed at the food. âWe donât want the food to get cold.â
As you sat down, you watched Bucky claim his favorite seat. The one right next to yours. He carefully placed Ducky on the table. Bucky wrinkled his forehead as the duckling threatened to tip sideways.
âPunk, be careful,â he shrugged his jacket off to make a bed for Ducky out of the expensive fabric. Bucky carefully put the duckling in the middle, humming as Ducky quacked loudly. âDid you drink shampoo or something?â Your husband grinned. âI bet you tried my whiskey.â
You giggled at their interaction. âIt seems you already became friends.â
âHeâs cool, for a helpless duckling,â Bucky said and dug his fork into the food. âI guess we can keep him. Just to make sure he doesnât end in a pan.â
âBucky!â You scolded your husband. âDonât say things like that in front of him. Heâs a baby!â
âDucky is a ruthless mobster,â Bucky retorted. He glanced at the duckling while chewing on the first bite of the food. âHe only needs a chance.â
You smiled softly as Bucky talked to the duckling. âHmmâŚwe should get you something warm to wear. Maybe shoes too. Your feet will hurt if you waddle around barefoot all day.â
âDucky got feathers. I donât think he needs more, Bucky.â
Bucky nodded but glanced at the duckling. âNo, I think he needs clothes. We donât want him to freeze, right?â
âRight,â you giggled as the duckling wiggled on top of Buckyâs jacket. It seemed like Ducky tried to get closer to your husband. It made a fuss, quaking loudly, until Bucky carefully grabbed him and placed him on his lap.
âThere you go, Ducky,â Bucky softly cooed to make sure to not scare the tiny duckling. âIâm going to take good care of you.â
Tags in reblog.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#mafia au#bucky barnes fluff#mobster!bucky barnes#Bucky & Ducky (2) - Warming up
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content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. dealer / mobster!rafe & bratty, party girl!reader AU. f!reader, highly toxic dynamic, major drug use, stalking, smoking, kissing ân touching.
âthaaatâs itâ thatâs my girl.â
rafe goads you on like usual. the hand at the back of your neck and its grip is nearly crushing, keeping your head down and your nose pressed to the mirrored tray in your lap. in the fat line of pure, white powder as you sniff it all up without a second thought.
you tried your best to stay away from him. at least for a few days. or a week⌠maybe two. you figured you wouldnât show your face at the club, that you would just lay low. but rafe always finds whoever he happens to be looking for in this city, one way or another. in fact he pulled right up to your apartment building in his black sports car and let it be known that he wasnât going to repeat himself after he said âget in, babyâ with a single look⌠youâd never be able to escape him. no matter how many explosive drug fueled fights you two have, youâll always find yourself in this spot.
the hotel bed is covered in faux furs and both crisp & rolled up $100 bills, bottles of champagne sit in ice on the nightstand beside himâ thereâs chatter coming from the next room over in the suite. rafeâs men, talking through the next play of the night.
you sniffle loudly once youâre able to finally lift your equally pretty and spinning head, licking your lips while that bitter drip in the back of your throat hits.
heâs grabbing you up before you can blink.
the tray falls out of your lap as youâre yanked into his own and held in his strong arms. heâs sitting against the giant headboard; a cigarette hangs from his lips and you pluck it up between your fingers, taking a drag while he feels you up through your skimpy tank top. his hands wander everywhere, groping your waist before his ring clad fingers inevitably squeeze your sensitive tits, making you mewl and lean into his touch. you peer at him through heavily painted lashes, and he doesnât waste anytime smashing his lips against yours once his darkened eyes fall on them.
itâs nothing but teeth and tongue but it makes you moan into his mouth. makes your hips buck against his own and your mind run wild, remembering how good he fucks you. within an inch of your lifeâ just how you like it. your ears ring and you realize that beyond the sounds of rafeâs and your own huffing ân puffing whilst you hungrily kiss, the door slams shut and the rest of the suite is suddenly suffocatingly silent.
âbout fuckinâ time,â rafe growls, as if heâs reading your mind, ââm gonna fuck you on every fuckinâ surface in this placeâ you owe me after that little stunt you pulled, donât yâthink?â
#đ bunny thinks#mobster!rafe#party girl!reader#idk how to tag this#dark rafe cameron#dark rafe cameron x reader#dark rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you
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Yes Mama Chapter 1
Summary: Bucky Barnes has made quite the name for himself in the underground mob boss world. But heâs not the boss. Just the face of the Family. Â
Warnings:Â violence, subtle mention of drugs, murder, language, possessiveness, smut, mild choking, public sex
Kids: oldest (from Steve) Frankie 12, second (from Tony) Antonia 10, third (from TâChalla) Uuka 8, fourth (from Bucky) Beau 6, fifth (from Bucky) Lottie 5, sixth (from Bucky) Valentina 3
Next chapter
The man cried heavily, his pathetic sniffles and watery eyes making Buckyâs eye twitch in annoyance. âPlease, boss, Iâm sorry!â he said for the hundredth time.
Bucky punched him again with his metal hand, splitting the manâs cheek open, a fresh gush of blood spattering across the wall next to them. âFucking prick,â Bucky sneered. âAll I asked was for you to make sure the shipment got from point fucking A, to point fucking B. But you saw a golden opportunity and decided to try out the merchandise for yourself and your buddiesââ
âBoss, Iââ
âShut up!â Bucky yelled, slapping him hard across the face, making the man whimper. âI wasnât done speaking, asshole.â The man nodded, his hands up in surrender. âApparently I have to babysit every fucking piece of shit driver on the payroll. Donât we take care of you? What is your family gonna do without your monthly stipend?â
The manâs eyes widened. âNo, please, I made a mistake. Iâve got a problem, but Iâll get clean!â he pleaded. âIâll make it up to you!â Â
âEven if you could,â Bucky sighed, reaching into the side of his jacket and pulling out a gun from the holster on his side, turning the safety off and pointing it at the man, âhow could we ever trust you again?â
The man started hyperventilating as he stared at Buckyâs gun. âPlease, my wifeâŚmy kids, Iââ
âTheyâll be taken care of,â Bucky said, sounding bored. âJust not by you.â He shot him between the eyes, watching the life drain from his face and his body crumple to the blood soaked floor. He stood still for a moment before turning the safety back on and putting the gun back in the holster. He turned to the people lining the wall behind him who had watched on. âClean this up before Mama gets home,â he said. âI donât want the kids to see or hear anything.â
âYes, boss,â they all said in unison, before jumping into action, cleaning the room and disposing of the body. Bucky sighed again and headed out of the room, walking up the stairs, taking the elevator then trudging through the hallways until he got to his room. He stripped out of his clothes, throwing the blood spattered ones in the fireplace before getting in the shower. He scrubbed his hands thoroughly, taking extra care to make sure all the blood and gore was cleaned from the plates and divots in his metal hand and arm. Once he was sure all the evidence was gone he got out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist before opening the bathroom door to find Y/N sitting on the edge of his bed.
âBuck,â she greeted him, her ever-present smirk on her lips.
âMama,â Bucky greeted her back, his own smirk lighting up his face. âTo what do I owe the pleasure of your company? Especially after I just got out of the shower?â
Y/N shrugged, her eyes scanning his body before looking toward the fireplace where his clothes were already burning. âBusiness as usual,â she said. âReport?â
Bucky hummed and approached her until he was standing a foot away. âHad to take care of a rat problem.â
âAgain?â Y/Nâs face morphed into a look of frustration. Â
Bucky nodded, crossing his arms. âA driver got handsy with the shipment and shared it with his buddies. Took care of them, too,â he answered her question as she opened her mouth. Â
Y/N sighed heavily, shaking her head as she looked down at her hands. âSo disappointing,â she murmured.
Bucky frowned. He knew how much this kind of thing affected her, and it always pulled at his heartstrings whenever she was upset. Damn his overprotective, bleeding heart. âDonât worry about it, Mama,â he reassured her, his metal hand reaching forward, his fingers tipping her chin up to look at him. âIâve got you.â
Y/N eyed his metal hand, a hungry look flashing in her eyes. She looked up at him through her lashes then took his metal hand in hers as she stood up. He was much taller than her, but it didnât deter her as she peered up at him then brought his hand to her lips, softly kissing each fingertip. âI know you do, Buck,â she whispered, kissing his palm. âYouâre always my number one.â
âAnd I always will be,â he promised, pulling the hand that held his hand from her mouth to his lips, kissing the ring on her left index finger that she always wore. It was a thick, gold banded signet ring, a crest etched into each side of the band with a large, deep but vibrant red ruby setting. âTill the end of the line.â
Y/Nâs eyes flicked across his face before she squeezed his fingers and dropped their hands, loosely holding his fingers still. âYou should come see the kids. They havenât seen you in a while.â
Bucky nodded. âIâll come down in a few.â
Y/N nodded then slowly took a step back. Her smirk returned and she let go of his hand before walking around him toward his door. She didnât look back as she opened the door and left, shutting it behind her soundly. Bucky puffed out a harsh breath as he palmed himself through the towel. When was he ever going to stop reacting to her this way?Â
***
Bucky and Y/N had a long and complicated history together. He was born into a rival family under the Hydra organization. His father had made a deal with Y/Nâs father, and when he couldnât keep his end of the bargain Y/Nâs father had swooped in and laid waste to Hydra, taking over their operations and merchandise. Bucky was a teenager when it all went down, and Y/Nâs father had taken him under his wing rather than offing him, seeing he held a lot of potential. Bucky knew that his parents were doing illegal things, and that Y/Nâs family was doing the same, but hers did it with a sense of dignity and strong family ties to the people around them, rather than treating them like servants or less-than. He felt like this was where he belonged all along. When they met as teenagers she was cordial, sometimes flirtatious, and Bucky liked her, but her father was overly protective and wouldnât have stood for any adolescent, angsty shenanigans
Bucky quickly rose through the ranks in her fatherâs inner circle, and when he died and Y/N took over, Bucky was inherited as part of the empire. He admired the way she ran things. Her father was old fashioned, traditional, while she was ready to expand and do so with 21st century means and a nod to her fatherâs old ways. She had made sure nobody but those closest to her knew she was the boss, and made Bucky the face of the Family, handling most duties while she worked behind the scenes. She infiltrated other families, going as far as getting pregnant with three of the neighboring Dons and having their children so that they wouldnât ever dare try to come after her and her empire since she held their predecessors, thereby procuring lasting alliances and business deals. If there was one thing mob bosses respected, it was family ties. Â
Bucky was the boss, but she was the Queen. Bucky and Y/Nâs camaraderie quickly shifted into something deeper and more meaningful until they were married, popping out three kids of their own within four years. It most likely would have been more if it wasnât for the fights about the first three kids. Bucky found it hard to care for them as anything more than like a neighbor kid that comes over all the time, whereas Y/N was always the attentive and caring mother they deserved. And the fact that the oldest was his childhood best friendâs son always grated on him. They were currently separated, not quite daring to divorce, but the option always loomed over them, feeling heavy and causing stress and tension. Â
Even if they did divorce, it would technically mean nothing. He would never leave her, the Family, or his kids. She had saved him, in every sense of the word. After a nasty fire fight that left him with a stump of a left arm she had done everything in her power to heal him and get him upgraded. The metal arm was top of the line, made of materials and technology that was so otherworldly he couldnât wrap his head around it. All he knew was that she was his everything, and loved and cared for him more than anyone else ever had. Â
He got dressed and went downstairs to the dining room where he heard the kids' voices echoing loudly. Bucky walked into the room to find all six of them nearly bouncing off the walls as they awaited dinner to be served. He shook his head then whistled loudly, making them all snap their heads toward him then run to face him in a single file line.
âThatâs better,â Bucky huffed. He walked down the line, inspecting each of them carefully, adjusting their shirts or their hair. When he was finished his smirk grew on his face. âYou little heathens been good for Mama?â Â
They all started smiling at him. âYes, boss,â they all said in unison. Â
Bucky started to bend forward. âYou sure?â He narrowed his eyes. They all started to lean away from him, fighting back giggles, until he jumped forward with a playful growl and they all squealed and scrambled away from him. They were all laughing as he chased them, trying to grab each one at least once, tickling them and kissing their faces. He finally caught the last one, the littlest and his youngest baby, Valentina, and kissed all over her face as she laughed and tried pushing him away. âAct like youâve got some sense and sit down for dinner,â Bucky laughed as he led the kids back over to the long table. Â
âYou and Ma take too long,â the oldest, Frankie, said as he sat down at his spot.
âYeah, we were waiting forever!â the second oldest, Antonia said dramatically, her head rolling. âWeâre hungry!â Â
Uuka, Beau, Lottie and Valentina all agreed with her until the clearing of a throat in the corner had them all stiffening in their seats and sitting up straight as Y/N walked in. She had changed into a different dress, one of Buckyâs favorites that she would wear around the house, and she was followed by the staff bringing in the plates for dinner. âPatience is a virtue, Toni,â she chastised. She sat at the head of the table and waited until the plates had been served and she thanked the staff that left the room before she leaned forward and smiled at each of them. âHow were your days, my darlings?â
The room erupted with sound again as they each started talking about their day. Y/N listened to each of them, giving her undivided attention to what they were saying, no matter how mundane it was, asking questions and making sure they felt heard. Bucky always admired her way of parenting. Her father had been a bit of a hardass, and she was that way, too, demanding respect from her kids. But she was able to have fun and be personable with them, truly loving them each as their own person as well as in the collective of the Family. Â
Bucky couldnât take his eyes off her. While they were separated, that didnât mean that they didnât occasionally enjoy each other. As he watched her interact with the kids, in that damned house dress, he felt that sexual tension from earlier return. Each child had made her curvier, plumper, and in his eyes, all the more beautiful. She caught his stare a couple of times over dinner, a twinkle in her eye and a playful smirk on her face. He hoped that meant she was feeling it for tonight, as well.
âAlright, my loves, time for bed,â Y/N announced, standing from the table. There was a round of groans from the kids, but at the rise of Y/Nâs eyebrows it went silent immediately. âBed. Now.â They all ran over to her, giving her hugs and kisses then doing the same to Bucky before quickly walking over to the nannies and body guards they had on staff that led them away to their rooms to help them get ready. Bucky stood and walked around the table to stand next to her.
âGod, I love it when youâre bossy,â he said lowly, leaning toward her ear.
Y/N huffed a silent laugh as she watched the kids walk away. âI know you do,â she said.
Bucky moved to stand behind her, making sure the kids were all out of sight before he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him, his head dipping down to the curve of her neck to her shoulder. His lips pressed firm kisses along the skin exposed there, subtly licking and sucking up to her ear. âYou wanna boss me around tonight?â he whispered.
Y/N hummed, her head tilting so he could have easier access to her throat. âI thought we were separated,â she said teasingly.
Bucky nipped at her jaw, making her gasp. âSo?â he asked.
She turned in his arms to face him, her hands settling on his chest. âWhat are you trying to do, Buck?â she asked, her tone more sober and upset. Â
Bucky frowned. âIâŚâ
âYou want me, then you donât want me. You love the kids and youâre great with them, but confessed you donât feel the same about all of them,â Y/N ranted, pushing away from him on his chest. Â
âY/Nââ
âNo,â Y/N shook her head and stepped away from him. âI may want you, and god knows I love you something fierce. Thatâll probably never go away. But if youâre not all in, with all that comes with me, then I donât want it,â she said, tears starting to build in her eyes and her lips trembling. Bucky felt like the wind was knocked out of him. Heâd made her cry. Heâd seen her cry before, but it had never been his doing. How much had she cried since they separated? She always put on such a strong front, he thought she was doing okay overall. Â
âMamaââÂ
âGoodnight, Buck,â Y/N interrupted him, sniffling quickly and clearing her throat. She turned and swiftly walked out of the room, leaving him alone and even more heartbroken than before.
#marvel#smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfic#series fanfic#chapter 1#mobster!bucky barnes#mob boss
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sorry, baby
based on this moodboard by @iamasaddie for the âď¸ game writing exercise đ¤đ¤đ¤
(ik that's javi p. but I don't know him so have some '70s mobster joel instead)
word count: 539
summary: maybe being a mob wife is not for you?
warnings: suicidal ideations, threats of suicide, guns, allusions to gun violence, allusions to killing, angst, idk guys it ran away from me, dead dove do not eat, dark
dividers by @saradika-graphics
If Joel is startled to wake up to the butt of his gun, he doesnât show it. At first, in the darkness, he thinks youâre aiming at him.Â
He blinks slowly once, twice. Takes in the shake of your arms and the distance between your finger and the trigger.Â
Youâre holding it just how he taught you, nice and careful, arms outstretched from your body.
âItâs okay to be scared,â he had said in your ear that day as he reached around your body to adjust your grip. âItâs okay to respect its power.âÂ
And no, he hadnât expected you to touch it again. Ever. Hadnât given a second thought to leaving it out when he fell asleep.Â
Itâs nearly three in the morning, and youâre still in the dress you wore to dinner last night, smears of makeup made gaunt by the thin stretch of moonlight. You always hated hotel curtains that never closed quite right.Â
It glints from the tears welling in your eyes. He reaches up, slower than molasses, and wraps his hand around the side of the gun.Â
Your hands fall to your lap while his holds steady.
âWhatâre you doinâ, darlinâ?â he murmurs. And then he sees it on the nightstand. A little folded card that says, âsorry babyâ in your hasty, conjoined scrawl.
âThe fuck is that?â he says.Â
You snatch at it but heâs faster even with his left hand. Of course he is. He holds it open with his thumb on the crease, and youâre suffocating more with each second as his eyes scan the short letter over and over.
âYou want out, huh?âÂ
âJoel, please,â you start to cry. âIâm sorry.â
âYeah, ya said that already, didnât ya? In your little note. Do anything to get away from me, huh? Even that.â He looks beyond fury, but worse, he looks heartbroken.
âNo, not you. Just the rest of it. Never you,â you say.
He shifts his grip and turns the gun on himself. âYou think you can fuckinâ leave me like that?â His hand is shaking, but heâs knocked back the hammer.Â
âJoel, please,â you whisper, but heâs beyond hearing.
But heâs shaking his head. âWhatâd those girls say to you, huh? I let you go off with those fuckinâ bimbos one timeâŚâ
âThe truth. They told me the truth. About what you do. All of you.â
âHoney, you knew. You knew that pretty little life was paid in blood. You knew what you were getting into.âÂ
He draws the gun to his head, eyes gone dark as they focus only on the tears streaking down your cheeks.
âNo!â youâre interrupted by a racking sob, fear coagulating in your throat. âJoel, please. Just put the gun down.â
âYou want out? This is the only way, baby. Only way theyâll let you go.â
He grits his jaw and stares, daring you to choose.
âPlease,â you gasp through the horrible wrenching pain in your chest. âJoel, please.â
He sets the gun on the nightstand and lets you fall, sobbing against his chest. After a moment, he grips your chin in his fingers and makes you look at him.
âDonât you ever fucking do that to me. Do you understand? Donât you ever fucking do that to me again.â
#âď¸ game#joel miller x reader#70s mobster joel#dark!joel#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#fic: joel drabble#joel miller fic#the last of us fic
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smog & spirits [masterlist]
Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU
gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader
Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.
Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, graphic wound description, blood/gore, graphic descriptions of stitching, religious punishment (lashings), angst, angst no comfort, comfort/fluff, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, possession, mediums, ghosts, hauntings, horror, smoking, brothels, pubs, gambling, alcohol, mention of death/violence/torture, bucky barnes has issues, bucky barnes is a dick, bucky barnes needs a hug, police brutality, vaguely british setting??, sexism, classism, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything
main masterlist
CHAPTERS [4/10]
spirit-raiser pony club the premonition bloodties
#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#marvel au#marvel fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x y/n#marvel#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#gangster au#mobster au#mob boss bucky barnes#1920s au#fantasy au#magic au#smog & spirits
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