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My Salvation.

Police Chief!Bucky x Mob!Reader AU (one-shot)

Requested. 

Run-through: You run from home, escaping an arranged marriage to a terrible mob family forced upon you by your father. In doing so, you find yourself turning to James Barnes for help, the police Chief. You two have had history and ever since, he’s been trying to put an end to the dark empire your family runs in his city. Still, he agrees to help you after you make him an irresistible offer. Everything goes rather smoothly, until the two of you find it hard to ignore the electric attraction constantly pulling the two of you towards each other. In time you find it difficult to keep your hands to yourselves so you eventually give in to the carnal temptations, forgetting that there is a high chance this may never work out because at the end of the day, you’re from the dark side and he’s one of the good ones. 

Themes: mild daddy kink, smut, fluff, angst, age gap, soft!dom!Bucky

“You’re not supposed to be here right now.” 

Keep reading

you lied

a/n: this is over 2000 words, so be warned... there are also going to be two different endings to this because i don’t know if i want to make it angst or fluff, teehee... i’ll leave the links at the end of this post :) but without further ado, enjoy the fic, my loves xx (also sorry for not updating for so long, school is a pain in the ass)

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: mentions of blood, angsty shit, swearing, mentions of fire arms/weapons

masterlist                     prompt list

You met Tom while you were on your morning jog. Your hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail with bobby pins to hold down stray hairs. You were wearing a white sports bra paired with dark olive leggings. Earbuds were stuffed into your ears, muting the world out. Everything about the morning was normal -- normal streets, normal traffic, normal people -- that is until you jogged into a handsome stranger. 

This handsome stranger was Tom.

That day, he gave you his number and set up a date with you. He complimented your figure, making you flush from embarrassment and admiration. You thought you looked hideous. Sweat was dripping from your forehead, and you were panting for air. Yet when you contradicted his compliment, he would bite back with more compliments.

Tom was the kindest, sweetest person you’ve ever met. He cared deeply for his friends and family. He’d literally risk it all to save his loved ones. 

Something was kept hidden from you, though. Beneath the layers of his pure heart, he was a cold, ruthless yet cunning, man. He was the leader of the strongest mafia in London. Known for his skills, he was the most feared mobster.

To Tom, you were his life, his everything. He’d do anything for you. Ever since you ran into him on your jog, he made it his duty to make sure you were safe. You were his top priority, followed closely by relatives and friends. He didn’t want you to be in any danger, so he never told you about his business, but his plan failed miserably.

-

A bright smile was stretched across your face as you giddily got into your car. You were heading to Tom’s home, more so mansion, to surprise him.

He rarely brought you to his place, always insisting that your place was better. Never had it crossed your mind as suspicious, and to this day, it still doesn’t. Tom wasn’t a materialistic person and boasting about his belongings wasn’t something that he ever considered.

You drove into the driveway of the Holland Manor, admiring the design of the land. The home was gorgeous, as well as the drive to the front of the house. You felt a tingling sensation in your stomach when you realized that you were almost before his doors. Only when you did see the doors, a sudden rush of nervousness filled your thoughts. The two of you had been dating for a little over 11 months now, but whenever you thought of or saw Tom, something inside you would snap. He was like a drug to you.

You neatly parked your car by the curb. Taking a few deep breaths, you stepped out of the vehicle and inhaled the fresh scent of the trees. You noticed men in black suits were standing beside the doors. They didn’t shift in their position. 

These guys weren’t here before, were they? You thought.

Shrugging it off, you knocked lightly on the vast doors. No reply was given. You looked around for a doorbell but no where was it to be found. Choosing your last resort, you walked up to the black tuxedo-clad man standing to your right.

“Excuse me, sir?” You asked in a squeak. He grunted. “Is Tom Holland here?” He gave you an arched brow of suspicion. Quickly, you continued, “I’m his girlfriend, Y/N. I wanted to surprise him today,” even behind his black tinted shades could you tell that he was still eyeing you suspiciously, “I have his number and texts as evidence.”

“Let’s see it, then,” the man’s low voice vibrated in your ears.

You pulled out your phone and rushed to open your messages with Tom. Once you were successful, you thrust the screen into the man’s face. He scanned the messages and looked at the phone number. Finally satisfied, he pulled the door open with a harsh tug. Your mouth fell agape. You just needed to tug on the door.

Stepping into the building, you looked around, feeling a sense of familiarity. You noticed that there were more suited men patrolling the space. 

Had something happened to Tom?

You rushed up the grand staircase to Tom’s room. You pushed the door open, but the room was empty. You turned to exit the room and accidentally walked into someone on your way out.

“Watch where you’re going,” a voice boomed.

You looked up at the person, meeting a pair of piercing blue eyes. You recognized his accent as the same as your boyfriend’s. You looked up at his caramel streaked brown hair, then back to his face. His jawline was defined like Tom’s.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” his voice broke your gaze.

You flushed and quickly looked away, “Ah- Sorry.”

“What were you doing in that room?” He was now eyeing you suspiciously, “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N, Tom’s girlfriend,” you smiled as you said it.

He let out a dark chuckle, “Yeah, like I’d believe that. I would know if my best mate had a girlfriend.”

You felt a short lived pain in your heart. He didn’t tell his friend about your relationship?

“You’re coming with me,” the man grabbed your arms and held them together. His other hand patted you down, looking for something.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked nervously as he touched you.

“What d’you think?” Failing to find any weapons, he pulled out a sleek, black object. A gun.

You whimpered at the sight of it, trying to shift as far away from it as you could.

“Let’s go,” he growled, holding both wrists together behind your back.

You obliged, afraid of his power. You didn’t know what was going on. 

As you put the pieces together, you realized: Tom was robbed.

Tears began rolling down your cheeks as you reached another large set of doors. The man behind you kicked the door open, gun still pointed at your head. A metallic smell stung your nose.

“Found this one looking through your room. Thought she could be working for Davis,” he said to the darkness.

A silhouette of what looked like a man came walking towards you. You were shoved into a chair, and a dim light lit up the room. The first thing you saw was a bloodied man tied to his chair. A loud sob ripped from your lips.

“Y/N?” A familiar British voice filled your ears.

Hesitantly, you looked in the direction which the voice came. You saw your brunette boyfriend standing ahead of you, fists covered in blood. You felt like you were going to be sick.

“What are you doing here?” Tom asked, checking if you were injured at all.

“You know this girl?” The other Brit sounded.

Tom murmured something to the man, and the man gasped.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know the hell why,” Tom snapped.

You started to feel faint. Why was Tom beating up some random guy in a dark room? What was he hiding from you? Did you even know who the real him was?

“Darling, look at me. Take deep breaths,” you tried, but you couldn’t. The smell of blood made you feel even worse. You gagged, “I know it doesn’t smell good, but I can’t have you fainting on me right now.” 

“I- Leave. Leave now,” you managed to say.

“Haz, get her out of here,” the rest he said in a whisper so you couldn’t hear.

You felt someone lift you from your seat and carry you out of the room. You were lightly dropped onto a soft cushion. 

“I’m so sorry about earlier. I really didn’t know,” a soft voice said to your dazed figure.

“S’alright,” you murmured without realizing.

It took you a while to regain your state of normality, but when you did, everything came rushing back to you. Tom had beat someone almost to their death. His best friend stuck a gun to your head.

You shot up from your seat. You turned on your heal and rushed to get out of the house.

“Where are you going?” Haz asked you.

“I remembered that I left something back at my flat. I need to go get it, but don’t worry, I’ll be back,” you lied urgently, hoping to get out as fast as possible.

“Why are you in such a rush?” He eyed you as he did before, reading you like a book.

“I’m not in a rush,” you scoffed, “Just want to get my...” you contemplated for a moment, “my gift for Tom as quick as possible.”

“Nice try, darling,” he rolled his eyes. His eyes scanned your face, “You’re afraid,” tears began to pile in your eyes, “He’s never told you about this, hasn’t he?” You shook your head, no, “Oh, darling, come here.” He opened his arms and gave you a sympathetic smile.

Without hesitance, you rushed into his arms, crying into his white shirt. Although you were still afraid of him, you couldn’t help but hug him. You needed comforting at the moment, and no one else was here to do so.

“It’s alright. I understand how you feel. When I found out my father was in this...” he thought for the right word, “business, I reacted much like you, except for the running away part.”

You sniffled into his shirt, “I-I’m afraid.”

“I know you are, love, but Tom will come out and explain everything to you,” he gently stroked your hair.

You flinched at Tom’s name, “No. I want to go, and I want to go now.”

Harrison sighed, “Alright. I shouldn’t be letting you run, but I’m nice,” a small giggle slipped from your lips, “Stay safe, alright?” You nodded, ecstatic to be leaving.

Before you left, you remembered you never caught his name, “Um- Haz?” He hummed in response, “I never really caught your full name...”

“Oh, right. I’m Harrison Osterfield, but my friends call me Haz,” he smiled.

“Are we friends?” You asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Whatever you want, darling,” he felt himself melting under your adorable gaze. It was just too hard to resist.

“Alrighty, Hazza. We are friends now,” you said, amusement glazing your tone.

He chuckled and told you to go if you still wanted to leave. Sadly, you went your way, leaving Harrison to watch as you grew into a smaller dot with each step you took.

-

You waved goodbye to the man who helped you into the home and rushed back to your car. You started the vehicle as fast as your body allowed and zoomed off. You didn’t even look back to admire the beautiful property. The only thing on your mind was getting out of there.

You’d been dating practically a stranger for 11 months. It was all a facade. Who knows what he would’ve done to you if the two of you got into a fight.

-

That night, as you cuddled in bed, flashes of the bloodied man and Tom’s bloodied fists filled your mind. You were constantly pinching yourself awake to avoid the visions. Occasionally, in your dazed state, your mind wandered to Tom, thinking about what he was doing at the moment, but you always slapped yourself on the cheek to snap out of it. 

-

Back at the Holland Manor, Tom was punching things left and right. He was mad at Harrison for letting you run away. He was mad at himself for keeping this a secret from you for so long. He was just afraid that other competing mobsters would kidnap you and use you against him.

His hands pulled at his curls in frustration. He couldn’t stop seeing the look of fear on your face you’d given him back in his office. You looked so terrified for your life, yet he could still see the concern for him bubbling in your eyes.

Tom couldn’t stand the guilt, so he drove to your flat at 2:18 in the morning.

-

You heard a knocking at the door and felt your stomach drop. Who would be at the door at this time?

Then, you heard a muffled voice.

“Darling, it’s me, Tom, please let me in.”

You stayed put in your bed, ignoring the pulling in your chest that told you to open the door. 

Less than a minute later, you heard the door click open. The pounding in your chest became quicker and louder. This time, it wasn’t sympathy, it was fear. You reached for the pepper spray hidden in the corner of your room and quietly backed into the furthest corner to the door and closest to the window. You unlocked the hinges of your window, prepared for the escape.

Your bedroom door creaked open and a familiar face peaked in from the crack. You felt yourself automatically relax, but you kept the pepper spray up.

Tom stepped into your room, hands in the air, “I’m not going to hurt you, love, I just came to explain.”

He tried moving closer to you, but you yelled, “Don’t come any closer!”

He flinched from your tone and the pain that struck his heart.

“Explain from there,” you nudged your head to the other side of the bed.

“If it makes you feel safer, then I will,” he stepped behind the bed. “Look, love, what you saw earlier wasn’t me just beating up some random guy-”

“It sure looked like it! Blood was on your fists, Tom. Your fists! Not yours but his,” you yelped, realizing how bad it sounded out loud.

“I know, love, I know, but I have a reason for it,” he tried to explain in a calm tone.

“You have a reason for beating someone up? Like what? Did he make you mad? Did he hurt your ‘wittle’ heart? You have no-”

“I do! I’m a fucking mobster, all right? Not just any. No, I’m the strongest mobster in London!” He shouted at you.

You whimpered at his temper, afraid that he would hurt you. Your arms faltered but stayed frozen in place. You scrunched up your face and closed your eyes, leaning into the wall as much as you could.

“Darling, I-I never meant to scare you. I’m so sorry, love,” he moved closer to you.

! angst ending  |  fluff ending !

you lied / end it all | angst ending

a/n: this is one alternate ending to the fic ‘you lied,’ so if you want, you can check out the fluffy ending at the link below! also read ‘you lied’ first because this is the ending... enjoy xx

warnings: one swear word, big time angst

masterlist                     prompt list

! you lied read first | fluff ending !

“Darling, I-I never meant to scare you. I’m so sorry, love,” he moved closer to you.

“Well it’s a little late for that isn’t it,” you snapped, face glowing red with rage.

“I know I shouldn’t’ve lied to you, but I really do love you, I swear,” he looked at you solemnly.

“I don’t doubt that, but you lied to me for 11 months. Hell, I even thought about moving in with you and marrying you and having children with you!” You spat, disgusted by the idea.

“We can still have that future. Just put down the pepper spray and come with me,” he said slowly, cautious to not trigger you to spray him.

“I’m not going to marry someone who murders people when they get mad! And I’m sure as fuck that I would never have children with you! I wouldn’t want my children to grow up like you: a monster,” you glared at him.

Tom felt his heart shatter into a million pieces in his chest. He never imagined you ever being this cruel and cold-hearted. To him, you were always sunshine and rainbows. He wanted the same future with you as you imagined, but he ruined it all by lying.

“All right,” he finally gave in, “you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“Ye-Yeah, go! Go back to whatever torture you were performing because I don’t care! I-I never cared! Leave,” you laughed at his back, lies slipping through your lips.

“Don’t go, please don’t. I love you, too. I do care, a lot at that. Stay.”

It was too late. The time you spent together and wondering about your future were all a waste. It’s crazy how one lie can end it all.

a stupid mistake

my gif please don’t steal 🥰

a/n: sorry for the month long hiatus... i’ve been stress recently with not having many friends and moving along with my school,,, it’s also my first anniversary of starting this tumblr so look out for that (it should be this friday i think)... enjoy the angsty fic ♥︎

pairing: mob!tom x reader

warnings: cursing, sO much AngSt, slight slut-shaming, light violence, pure fluff at the end uwu

masterlist                     prompt list              add yourself on my taglist!

It all started with your forgetfulness. You were stressed and worried because of Tom. You knew how dangerous it was for him to be running the strongest mob in England. Worries littered your thoughts, and you couldn’t help but be forgetful. 

You didn’t understand how Tom could’ve gotten so infuriated about you forgetting to lock the front door of your flat. Yes, you knew he was only caring for your well-being, but his reaction was excessive. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve gotten into serious danger! What if a rival mob came here and took you away? Do you realize how careless you’re being?” Tom shouted at you, fists clenched.

You looked at him with wide, watering eyes, “I-It was just a stupid mistake. Besides, I’m still here, aren’t I?”

He scoffs, laughing at your counter. A hand moves from his hips and runs through his gelled, brunette locks. He saunters over to the fireplace, looking at the picture frames of moments you shared together. With another chuckle, he sent the frames crashing to the floor.

You flinched at the resonating sound.

“A stupid mistake,” he whispers to himself, “Would it’ve been stupid if someone kidnapped you and used you against me?”

You opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off by his seething stare.

“I know that you’re still here. You got lucky, so what? Do you want them to take you away? Are you with me to whore around with other mobs?” He spat.

You looked up at your boyfriend, hurt accented your features.

“I would never use anyone to whore around, especially not with you. I can’t believe you would even say that. Out of all people, I’d think you’d know me best. I guess I was wrong,” you murmured the end, arms hugging yourself.

You heard his footsteps approaching you. Your eyes were trained on the crystal droplets on the wooden floor. Tears were uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks and onto the ground. When you knew Tom wasn’t looking, you would quickly wipe them away. To your dismay, you knew his eyes were locked on you, giving you leeway to dry your tears.

“I don’t think you should be talking back to me,” he gripped one of your arms tightly, “I’ve given you everything you could dream for, and this is how you repay me? By making yourself a free target?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” you spoke weakly.

“You forgot? You have nothing to do. You’re living your life off of me. You can do whatever the hell you want, whenever you want. So, please, tell me how you could forget a task as simple as locking the door?” He placed a finger at your chin, forcing your red-rimmed eyes to meet his.

Your lips shook as you said nothing but stared into his raging eyes. Whoever this man ahead of you was, it certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Your Tom. This Tom was the man behind mysterious disappearances and stomach turning murders. 

This wasn’t an argument between to lovers anymore; it was an interrogation between a surprised victim and the devil.

A whimper escaped your lips, following strings of sobs. Your tears flowed freely, drenching your face. You closed your eyes to avoid the man’s stare, but it was all you could see. 

You could feel his grip loosen and took the opportunity to run. You bolted up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. You slammed the door behind you and made sure to lock it.

You could hear his loud footsteps nearing the door and decided to reinforce the door by placing a chair against it. Feeling slightly secured, you jumped into your bed and buried yourself under the sheets. 

A gentle knock sounded, “Y/N, darling?”

You pulled your pillow into the sheets and wrapped your head with it, attempting to block out his voice. 

Tom was the last person you wanted to think about at that moment and time, but he was stuck in your mind. His piercing stare was engraved in your memory.

Another knock.

“Love? If you can hear me, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I really love and care for you and knowing that you’re in danger because of me breaks my heart. I’m so sorry if I scared you earlier. Please open the door,” he spoke softly.

You pulled the pillow harder and squeezed your eyes shut, holding back your tears. You were silently begging for him to leave you alone. Fortunately, after waiting a bit longer, you were met with complete silence.

The silence was disturbed by the faint sound of key jangling and a chair scraping against the floor.

You scrunched yourself into a tighter ball as if it would shield and hide you.

“Y/N?” Tom looked at the lump on the bed.

You heard rustling and felt the bed dip under his weight. A light hand was placed on your shoulder and began to stroke you in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m really, truly am sorry. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I’m just worried about you. If anything happens to you, it’s on me. It’s because I failed to protect you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing you got hurt because of me.” Failing to get a response from you, he continued, “I don’t deserve you. You’re a blessing in disguise, my blessing in disguise. I remember those dark days before I met you. Training drained all of my energy and left me feeling weak and unworthy of life. I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror whilst getting ready. Everything felt dull. Then, I met you. You brought the happiness back into my life. I felt so... so complete, so full of life. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if  I’d even be here, today. You saved me. You, the love of my life.”

You relaxed under him and peeked your head out under the sheets. You looked at him with soft, admiring eyes. He looked back at you with adoring eyes, flashing you a gracious smile.

“Please believe me, love. I know I hurt you, and I know what I said was wrong, but I love you with all my heart. You can leave me if you want; it’s what I deserve, anyways,” his eyes filled with tears, and he looked away, avoiding your gaze.

As a tear rolled down his cheek, you reached out and wiped it away. He looked at you, shocked. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered earnestly.

With a laugh, he dropped himself on top of you, enveloping you in his arms. He placed kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Tommy, stop,” you blushed, pushing him away. With a more serious tone in your voice, you spoke, “I forgot to lock the door because I was worried about you, Tommy. You’ve been working so hard, recently, and when you come with those deep dark circles under your eyes, it breaks my heart. I’m sorry for being so careless. I must’ve caused unnecessary panic.”

He softens at your reasoning and caresses your cheek, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. If I’d known you were worried for me, I wouldn’t’ve reacted that way. I’m so sorry.”

“From now on, can we talk things out peacefully? I hate fighting with you,” you pouted at the brunette.

“I agree,” he smiled, “Now, let’s just cuddle and sleep away the day. Would you like that?”

“I would,” you replied before reaching up to kiss him, only to miss.

Chuckling, he leaned down and completed the kiss for you.

Love your writing

If you have time please write some soft #mob!tom

failed surprises

pairing: soft mob!tom x reader

genre: angst, mostly fluff

warnings: y/n worrying about tom, sobbing, holding each other, soft comforting with tom

a/n: i’m not really back from my hiatus but i just wanted to give you guys something to read,,, enjoy i guess 

masterlist

You sat quiet and alone in your large, shared bedroom. The television ahead of you shone brightly, but you paid it no mind. Your eyes were glued to your phone, reading each text Tom had sent you before going on his “business trip.” You hadn’t heard from him for days, and knowing his job, there was a possibility he wouldn’t come back.

how’s my darling? i hope you’re safe and healthy. i wish i could be with you. don’t stay up too late. i love you! goodnight baby ♡

sent: 1:39 A.M. September 29, 2020

Tears rolled down your face as the dark thoughts sunk deeper into your mind. You tried your best to fight away these thoughts, but you were too weak. You were fatigued, worried, and depressed. You could easily drown in your emotions, and you did.

The soft hums from the television were interrupted by your heart-wrenching sobs. You clutched your phone close to your chest and let your tears flow freely.

Unbeknownst to you, though, was that the man you yearned so deeply for was standing right outside of your door. 

Tom had planned on surprising you, not texting you about the date of his arrival. He thought that it would be a fun, pleasant gift to surprise you with his presence, but once he heard your pained cries coming from your shared room, he immediately regretted his plan.

Dropping the flowers he held in his hands, he opened the door to see you laying on your side, the television’s brightness lighting you multiple different colors.

He rushed over to your side, holding your shaking body in his arms.

“It’s alright, darling, I’m here,” you immediately responded to the sound of his voice, cuddling further into the familiar scent.

“Tommy,” your voice squeaked.

His hand reached to the top of your head and began to stroke your hair, “I’m here, love, I’m back.”

“You’re back,” you hiccuped.

“That’s right, love. I’m so sorry for worrying you. I thought it would be a good idea to surprise you. That’s why I didn’t talk to you for these past few days,” he placed a kiss at the top of your head.

Reassured that he was in no harm not that you expected him to get hurt, i mean look at him, your tears came to a halt, and a smile made its way onto your lips. You stretched yourself upwards and stole a quick kiss from Tom, making him blink in shock.

“You’re stupid,” you said blatantly, “If you wanted to surprise me, you should’ve stayed in contact with me. I get that you spoil things a lot, but you really know how to worry a woman.”

“I do not spoil things easily,” he pouted, furrowing his brows.

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t ruin your own Valentine’s Day plan by accidentally telling me a week earlier?” You arched a brow at him, fully knowing he couldn’t deny it.

“Ugh, fine, I admit I messed up that once, but-” you cut him off with another one of his mishaps.

“And that time, on my birthday-” you’re cut off abruptly by Tom’s rushed acknowledgements.

“Okay, okay, so I do spoil things a lot. You still love me, though,” he smirked, kissing the tip of your nose.

“That I do,” you giggled, cheeks flushing a rose red.

The two of you sat in each other’s embrace, the sound of the your quiet television humming keeping the room from being silent.

Tom admired your puffy, pink cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, staring at your beautiful figure. He loved every part of you, from every flaw to perfection. 

“What?” You squirmed under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he smiled softly, “’m just grateful to have met such an amazing girl, even have the chance to make her mine forever.”

As he talked about you, you swore you could see his eyes twinkling with love and admiration. You hoped your eyes shone like his when you looked at him.

Oh, how the two of you were whipped, in your own world, loving each other with all of your life.

50 and 59 with mob Tom

skin ‘n teeth

❧ prompt: “Why are you so jealous?” & “Bite me.”

❧ pairing: mob!tom x brat!reader

❧ genre: suggestive, slight angst (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of eye-fucking, biting kink, hickeys, manhandling, soft!tom for 0.001 seconds

❧ a/n: so i’ve decided to actually be somewhat active again but not really. i’m changing the format of my work, if you couldn’t tell. please send in more requests because i actually have no ideas anymore so yeah. in another post i’ll explain a little more why i decided to go on a hiatus. you can check it out if you want

masterlist

Tom stormed into the room, you trailing right after him. 

“What was that?” He fumed, fists clenching at his sides.

“What was what?” You asked, snapping back at the man.

“You know wha-” Tom takes a deep breath to prevent himself from breaking into a violent state, “You were throwing yourself at Harrison this whole night. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I wasn’t throwing myself at Harrison, Tom,” you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Yeah, you were throwing certain eyes at him, though,” he snapped, ears growing red with anger.

“And you weren’t?” You glared at your boyfriend.

“I’m pretty sure I’m dating you for a reason, Y/N. If I wanted to get with Haz, I could’ve a while ago,” humor slipped into his tone.

“No, Tom,” you groaned, getting frustrated, “I’m talking about that girl.”

“Analia?” He took the bitterness spreading further on your face as confirmation, “You know I have to entertain her if I want to maintain business with Boivin.”

“Well you don’t have to entertain her to the extent of letting her undress you with her eyes,” you rolled your eyes for about the fiftieth time that night.

“Undress me with her eyes?” Tom let out a dark laugh, “You were doing that to Haz tonight, and besides, I can’t control what she does.”

“You kept responding to her, though,” you feebly spat.

“Why are you so jealous? You know I only have eyes for you,” he said, sighing as if the conversation was tiring him.

His evident worn-out tone made your anger peak. Huffing loudly, you spun on the heel of your foot, exiting the tension-filled room. 

“Where are you going now?” You heard his voice groan behind you.

Your feet carried you down the empty corridor, the clacking of your heels echoing as you rushed away from the Brit. Tom’s voice rang in your ears, demanding you to stop walking. You ignored him as you made your way into your shared bedroom.

Pushing the door closed behind you, you undressed yourself and changed into a comfortable, satin dress. You freed your feet from the restricting shoes, shivering as your feet touched the cold floor. Exchanging the heels for dark grey plush slippers, you made your way onto the balcony, resting your hands on the marble balustrade. You looked up at the dark sea overhead, stars twinkling in the abyss. 

After some time, you heard the sound of a door clicking open behind you but decided to ignore it. A warmth replaced the coolness of your back, and a pair of hands were placed onto your hips. 

“Darling,” you heard the familiar British accent whisper into the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry. Stop ignoring me, please.”

The longer you stayed silent, he progressively became more dominant.

“Babygirl, why are you being such a brat tonight?” Warm, wet lips latched onto your neck, sucking and pulling at the taut skin.

Still not able to elicit any response from you, he worked his way up your neck to your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“If I were you, I’d respond. You’re already going to get a punishment, do you want it to be even worse?” His deep, husky voice vibrated down your spine. 

“Bite me,” you smirked, tough facade not breaking.

He growled, thrusting his hips into you before his teeth connected with your neck. After getting some successful marks on the skin, he forced you to face him, throwing you over his shoulder and slapping your stuck-out ass. Pushing the doors of your room open, he threw you onto the bed, climbing above your figure and leaning down to feast more at your neck.

“Don’t enjoy this too much. I still have to punish you for your behavior tonight.”

With a whimper from your swollen lips, he began ravishing you, starting an endless night of pleasure.

Can you please please do one where mob Tom has to go on like a business meeting for like two months or something and can’t have contact with y/n and in those two months she starts working out and loses a bit of weight and he comes home all proud SMUT PLEASEE Im trying to lose weight and I would literally cry if someone was proud of my weight loss

two-for-one reward

❧ prompt: hard work always pays off, and the prize you get always varies

❧ pairing: mob!tom x reader

❧ genre: suggestive, fluff

❧ warnings: one curse word shit, mentions of hickeys, mentions of horniness, suggestive ending

❧ a/n: i decided to write this for the upcoming week because i have my finals and a lot of work to do for school that i’m stressed about oops so hopefully this’ll be enough content for now. i personally am also exercising, and may i just say, it’s the most rewarding thing ever. tips that i can give are to be do it for yourself and not others, as well as not to put yourself down. don’t stress about your results or not seeing improvement. you’re doing great as it is, and you should be proud that your taking action. i also did not write any smut in this for i don’t feel comfortable writing in such genre anymore, especially because i haven’t been dabbling in that area for a while. like i said in my other post, i will try to return to writing nsfw works, but for now, i will only be writing suggestive. i am so sorry :( i hope the suggestiveness is enough. enjoy xx

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Two weeks ago, Tom had to go on a trip for his business. Though he considered bringing you along, he didn’t want to involve you in the mob business further than you already were. He left you in the safety of his mansion, accompanied by many of his most trusted men. As much as he wanted to leave Harrison, Sam, or Harry with you, he needed them to come along with him on this mission as backup. 

Within the two weeks he had been gone, you had too much free time on your hands. Not being allowed to leave his property or invite friends over, you were left with barely any sources of entertainment.

One day, though, as you were walking down the large halls, two of Tom’s men trailing behind you, you noticed a room you never ventured in before. Letting your curiosity and boredom lead you, you made your way over to the opaque door. Placing a hand on the metal of the door handle, you winced at the chill that spiked the palm of your hand. Pulling the door open, you were met with a rack of weights placed beside the wall and a treadmill beneath a large television. Walking further into the room, on your right, there was a long pool filled with crystal, teal water. 

Turning to the men behind you, you asked, “Who’s gym is this?”

“Mr. Holland’s, of course,” one spoke up, “we usually aren’t allowed in here, though.”

Looking at the large mirror wall, you looked at your physique. You didn’t need to lose weight, as your body was already perfect as it was, but you could improve your muscle strength and stamina. With that, you decided that within the two weeks, to fill your time, you would work out everyday for hours on end. 

At the beginning of this strengthening journey, you were fatigued much more easily than you were compared to the end of the two week span. You ended every jogging session with your hands supporting your body on your knees, sweat dripping down your face, chest heaving as you panted for air. You could barely hold a plank for 15 seconds, and your arms were established to be weaker than you imagined as you dipped down to do your first pushup. Legs bending into a squat, you felt your thighs shaking by the time you reached twentieth rep. Every time you ended every workout, you felt rewarded and were proud when you looked in the mirror to see your figure tightening.

By the thirteenth day, and final day to yourself, you were much stronger and could hold yourself up for much longer. For the short amount of time you had exercised for, your results were extraordinary. You were much skinner and toned than you were when you began. 

That night, you fell asleep in the empty bed once more, your excitement over Tom coming back keeping you awake but the fatigue overpowered it and lulled you to sleep. 

The next morning, you woke bright and early, changing into a long-sleeved, green, lettuce-edged, wrap shirt paired with straight denim jeans. Doing your hair up into a ponytail, you applied a layer of toner and lotion to your face, finishing your look off with a lightly tinted chapstick. 

Rushing down the hallway, you heard the doors opening, followed by the familiar, accented voices.

You saw Tom taking big strides down the corridor you were practically sprinting through and jumped into his arms, shouting, “Tommy!”

“Woah, darling,” he chuckled as you nuzzled your face into the nape of his neck, “I missed you. I guess you missed me too?”

You only nodded in response.

Putting you back onto your feet, Tom looked you up and down, eyes surveying your body, “You look different,” you gave him a look, “In a good way,” he rushed to add on. “You look slimmer and more fit. Did you workout while I was gone? Or am I imagining shit?”

“Actually, i’m quite glad you noticed, but in fact, I did lose weight. I discovered your gym early on and decided to fill my time by working out,” you smiled proudly.

“Not that I didn’t love your body before, you look so hot right now. Would it be weird if I said I’m a little bit turned on?” He asked, a shy grin resting on his face.

“It definitely would be...” you paused for a moment, taking in Tom’s disgruntled expression, “weird if you hadn’t mentioned it. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

Smirking, he lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the nearest vacant room he could find. His lips were already latched to yours, and, carrying you with one arm, he used his empty hand to strip you from your shirt.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mumbled onto your neck before sucking on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark behind. 

As the day progressed, many more marks were left all over your body that nobody, except for Tom, would be allowed to see: a prize given from Tom for your hard, impressive work.

Hi! I've recently discovered your blog and I love it 😍. I was also wondering, if you could write a fic (obviously if you like the idea, no pressure at all) where the reader is a an assassin, in love with mob!tom. Her last mission was a failure and she came home injuried. Tom was scared to death because she didn't text him or call him (obviously). She was trying to help Tom with his business but she underestimates the other mob. Tom helps her cleaning the wounds, they argued at first but I'm a puddle for happy endings. Thank you for your time, have a nice day 🥰🥰🥰

her blood-stained bodysuit

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff, action (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of blood, mild gore, fighting, mentions of guns, mentions of hickey, language

❧ a/n: though i should’ve worked on my script for my final, i worked on this instead. i’m not procrastinating, i have everything planned out lmao nah. this fic wasn’t supposed to be as “gore-y” as it came out as, but, like, it’s whatever. hope you enjoyed this fic because i worked on it for like three days lmao. alright bye xx

part 2!

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Walking into the run-down building, you gripped your gun tightly, eyes open for any sudden attacks. Your ears strained as they listened for any sounds. 

You were suited in an all-black bodysuit, handgun holster around your waist. Your hair had been tightly tied into a bun, no loose hair out to get in your face. A mask had covered half of your face, hiding your identity. 

You barely knew the place you were heading into, but you knew it enough to assassinate your target and escape. You had planned the entire event out. First, you’d rid the place of any cameras and enemy attackers. Then, you’d set a distraction opposite to where you were heading. Finally, once you reached your destination, you’d quickly shoot your target, leaving them a milli-second to breathe before falling cold to the ground. Your escape was easy. You’d climb out of the window and fall right into your vehicle, allowing yourself a fast escape.

As you stepped into the dark, musty building, you saw the first cameras you needed to shoot out. What didn’t occur to you was the loud echo traveling through the entire building: your first mistake.

You continued on, hiding when you saw the first sign of your enemy’s men but continuing once they passed. Unexpectedly, when you began to carry yourself further, you felt a presence watching you. The butt of your gun swung back, hitting someone in the side. They let out a loud groan, alerting everybody nearby. You quickly shot the man dead, rushing to the nearest exit. Unfortunately for you, there was no path for you to escape. There were men in every exit you planned to use when in case of an emergency.

It was like they already knew you were coming.

Deciding to take your chances, you ran, shooting and dodging bullets being shot your way. Luckily, you were a trained assassin with much experience. You found yourself at an exit when someone was able to land a shot in your thigh. Groaning in pain, you perspired on, not letting them take you in. Throwing the broken-down doors shut, you limped your way to the doors out of the building. Thinking you had escaped all the men, you let your guard down for a second to tend to your wounded leg. 

In the midst of your pain, you didn’t notice the man coming up from behind you. He threw a harsh hit to your head, knocking you off balance. With your already injured leg, you fell over easily, head hitting the rugged ground beneath you. You felt a sharp pain spike the side of your head before feeling a warm liquid run down the side of your face. 

Reaching a hand up to feel the warm liquid, you saw red and fired your gun at the grinning man above you. You shot him dead, bullets continuously lodging into his chest. His shirt soaked with his blood.

“Asshole,” you muttered before getting back on your way. 

When you finally reached your car, you took off as fast as you could, knowing that if you didn’t get going, they would be trailing you all the way back.

-

Tom was in his office, reading over some papers when the door abruptly opened. He snapped his head up in anger, knowing that his men knew not to barge in without knocking or they’d face the consequences.

“You better have a good reason as to why-” when he saw Harrison panting and wide-eyed, he paused, worry taking over his thoughts. “What happened?”

“Y/N’s missing,” the blonde said, breathlessly.

“What do you mean missing?” Tom asked, attention fully on Harrison.

“She isn’t in her room or the gym. I’ve tried calling her multiple times, but it keeps going to voicemail,” Haz explained.

“Fuck,” Tom whispered, rushing out of his office to find you.

-

You threw the car door shut, feeling hazy at the loss of blood. Holding your head in pain, you limped before the doors of your home before falling over, vision going black.

-

“Tom, the system says someone’s entered the code into the gate,” Haz said as he saw the notification pop up on the security system.

“That has to be her,” Tom said before running to the home’s main doors.

Pulling open the large door, he was revealed to your limp body laying on the cold floor, with dried blood covering you and fresh blood tangled in your hair. For a moment, Tom assumed the worst and thought you were dead, when he brought himself back to logicality. He placed two fingers to your neck, successfully locating your weak pulse. He let out a happy sigh but remembered that you were still bleeding heavily and needed to be treated right away.

He lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into your shared room. He passed a concerned-looking Harrison, telling him to get the medical supplies.

-

You woke to the feeling of a wet cloth wiping down your cheek. Flinching away from the contact, your eyes weakly shot open to see your brunette boyfriend.

“Tom,” your voice came out weak and hoarse.

“Shh, darling, you need to rest,” he silenced you as he wiped you clean from your blood.

Tom wasn’t mad at you, only a bit frustrated. He wondered why you put yourself at such risk. He knew you to make logical, smart decisions, but here you were, lying in bed severely drained of your blood. He sighed aloud at your recklessness.

His weight lifting off the bed, he stood to put away the bloody towelette, shaking his head as he was consumed by his own thoughts. You watched his back, and you could practically see the disappointment radiating off of him.

“I know I fucked up alright?” You croaked, sighing in shame.

“It’s just so unlike you to be so, so-” a hand reached up to massage his temples, “Just be more careful next time.”

“No,” you bit back, hearing the irritation in his voice, “please, finish your sentence.”

“It doesn’t matter what I was going to say becau-” 

You cut him off, “It does matter. What were you going to say about me?” You suddenly felt a surge of energy run through your veins.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? You need to rest,” he tried to tuck you under the covers, only to be pushed away by a weak hand.

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just want to know what you thought about me,” you snapped.

“Fine, if you want to know so much, I was going to say reckless. It’s so unlike you to be so reckless. There, I said it,” he fired back, annoyed by your consistent nagging. 

You scoffed in disbelief, “I was not being reckless. I had a plan, a well-thought out plan at that, but they somehow intercepted it. I can’t predict things like that happening. At least I had a backup plan or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You shifted in bed, trying to sit upright, flinching when your head spun at the sudden movement. You grabbed the aching side, trying to subdue the pain.

“Lay down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more, if you sit up,” the accented voice said demandingly. 

You sneered at the demand but listened, regardless. 

“I know what I’m doing, you know? I’m a well-trained assassin, not to mention one of the best ones yet,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I know that. That’s why I’m confused about how you came back so heavily injured. I expected you to know better,” he huffed, turning the light of the room off.

The last comment had hit you harder than you expected. You knew he had high expectations of you, but you never thought he would put you down for messing up once.

Glancing at his silhouette, you never felt as much dislike for a person than you did Tom, at that moment. You liked being critiqued but not insulted. Your line of work was very important, and your pride was big.

He slid into his space beside you, laying flat on his back, arms crossed over the covers. You remained laying on your side beside him, not sparing him a glance.

A wet streak slid down the side of your nose, another following over the bridge of your nose. Reaching a hand up to wipe the liquid away, you realized it was your tears. You tried to quietly sniffle away your tears, but Tom heard them clearly in the radio silent room. 

You weren’t supposed to be weak. You weren’t supposed to shed tears late at night. You were an assassin for fuck’s sake. 

“You know, I was doing it for you,” you whispered. “I was trying to get rid of that stupid asshole that’s been targetting you this entire time,” your tears began to come down harder.

“Darling, why would you do that? As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer it more if you came home safely and not bleeding out,” he spoke, turning to wrap an arm around your waist.

“I just wanted to help,” you sniffled, cuddling into his warmth.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was just worried about you,” he murmured as he planted wet kisses on your bare shoulder.

“I know, but it still hurt,” you replied, lifting a hand up to wipe away your excess tears.

“I’m sorry, princess. Can you forgive me?” His lips attacked the supple skin of your neck, gently sucking and leaving a purple mark behind.

You hummed, a hand snaking behind you to push him away, “Yes, I forgive you. Now, leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Alright, love. Let’s sleep,” he smiled into your neck, arms encasing you in a warm hug, and before you knew it, you fell into a deep sleep.

Hey, it’s me again. For the part two of ‘her blood-stained bodysuit’ where the reader is still upset about tom expecting to high of her, the next morning tom noticed it and try make it up to her..? Something like that... or you can make it your own way 😊 thank you in advance

her blood-stained bodysuit pt. 2

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff

❧ warnings: cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, slamming a glass cup onto a counter (?), mentions of insecurity

❧ a/n: i got a backup laptop babies! it’s not actually mine but i’m going to get mine fixed soon :)) hopefully this part lived up to your standards, anon. i tried to make it angsty-er than the first part since someone reposted it saying it wasn’t as angsty as they expected. i didn’t find it as an insult because i took it more in a constructive criticism way. anyways, enjoy!

part 1!

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You flinched awake, placing a palm at the side of your head. Your eye shut in pain, letting out a shaking breath. You looked ahead of you, stabilizing yourself, before using both of your arms to push yourself up into a sitting position. Beside you, you heard the sheets rustling and felt movement beneath them. You froze in your spot, turning to face the sleeping figure.

Tom laid peacefully, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. His steady breathing filled the radio silent room. Flashes of the night before filled your mind, Tom’s voice ringing in your ears. 

“It’s so unlike you to be so reckless.“

“I expected you to know better.”

You let out an audible huff, forcing your aching off the bed. Your blistered feet touched the cool floor, relaxing your tense body. Quietly, you made your way to the bathroom with an occasional limp. 

Looking yourself over in the mirror, you took note that you looked like a mess: (h/c) hair a tangled mop, dry, cracked lips, and bruises littered your figure. You winced at the sight and began towards the shower. 

Stepping into the warm, fog-filled cubicle, you sighed as the warm water relaxed your tight muscles. Your arms wrapped around your torso, holding yourself as your hair flattened against your scalp. You let a hand fall to your thigh, fingertips dancing along the hem of your waterproof bandage.

Sighing, you stepped into the empty gym. You closed the door behind you, pulling off your large, black jacket. You placed the piece onto the bench, sitting beside it to put on your black tennis shoes.

The gym was a sad room at those hours. The hours when everyone was still asleep or slowly awakening, when the rising sun was concealed by the overwhelming fog. Through the teal-tinted glass, the opaque light in the room was faint, shadows hiding in the corners of the room. The air was still, an occasional shift when there was the slightest of movements. 

A chill ran down your spine, as you shook, and goosebumps slowly arose from your soft skin. Rubbing your arms for warmth, you grabbed the black hair tie and pulled your hair up into a tight ponytail.

You worked hard for the next couple of hours, pushing yourself over your limit. Occasionally, you stopped when you felt a sharp pain in your thigh or your vision spun you off balance. 

After another shower, you made your way into the kitchen, smelling of fresh soap. You grabbed a glass of water, chugging the cup in one go. You leaned against the island of your kitchen, staring out the large window and at the gorgeous scenery of trees. 

“I’ve done everything I can to be the top,” you spoke, quietly, “Where did I go wrong?” 

“G’morning, darling,” Tom’s groggy voice filled your ears, as you felt him place a gentle kiss to your temple. 

You flinched back at the sudden contact, strangely alert to your surroundings. 

“Sorry. Did I touch your wound?” A concerned hand came up to your face, gently moving your hair behind your ear.

Shaking your head, you moved towards the stove, thinking about ways to improve yourself on the field. Just as an idea popped in your head, his voice came up again. 

“It’s so unlike you to be so reckless.“

“I expected you to know better.”

Your head snapped up, and you looked behind you. “What’d you say?” You asked with a venomous tone.

“I just asked if you were feeling better, love,” he walked up to you and placed an arm around your waist, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Maneuvering out of his grasp, you replied, “Yes, I’m fine. I don’t need to be babied, Tom. I just have a lot going on in my mind.”

Concerned, Tom pushed further, “You know you can tell me anything.”

Frustrated, you harshly put down the glass in your hand, almost shattering it against the counter. 

Tom flinched.

“Look, I’m just really tired and sore and frustrated, right now. If you could just leave me alone for a few minutes, maybe I’ll feel like putting up with you later,” you snapped, walking out of the room, leaving him no time to speak.

As expected, he followed after you, wondering what had gone wrong. He thought back to the night before, trying to remember if your attitude could possibly be a symptom of the medications you took. Shaking his head, he reflected the argument the pair of you had.

That must be it, he nodded to himself.

Unknowingly, you lead him to the gym, but when he tried to pull the door open, the glass wouldn’t budge. From within, he heard your gentle grunts and soft breaths, leading him to the conclusion of you exercising. Thinking to the injuries you had returned with, he began to worry and panic for you and your health.

What were you thinking? What if you injure yourself further? Why aren’t you prioritizing your health? Tom thought, growing frustrated, mostly at himself.

His fist banged on the glass, head spinning with negative thoughts, “Darling, you need to let yourself rest. You’ll only hurt yourself more if you push yourself over your limit.”

You heard the faint murmur of his shouts but decided to ignore it. If you were stronger, you wouldn’t be in the position you were in: a limp in your walk, ache in your thigh, and an occasional blur to your vision.

Stepping onto the treadmill, you dialed the speed to 5 miles per hour to start as a warm up. Within a minute, you pushed yourself to a run at 6 miles per hour, then to a sprint at 7. You were panting for air, sweat dripping down your face.

 You could still hear Tom’s protests, angering you further. 

Unsatisfied that you could still hear the noises in your environment, you brought the speed up to 7.5 miles per hour, a sharp pain slowly becoming more and more noticeable in your thigh. The blood that rushed to your ears drowned out anything and everything you didn’t want to hear.

Barely any time had passed when the faint pain in your leg began to feel like someone was constantly pressing on your wound. Additionally, your head was pounding, and your vision was growing blurrier by every passing minute. 

You brought a hand up to your forehead, fingers pressing into your temples, attempting to massage the pain away. Unfortunately, the pain stayed, and if anything, increased tenfold. 

“Fuck,” you murmured, arms grasping at the hand supports of the treadmill.

Before you knew it, your vision turned black, and the sensation of your body getting thrown into the air was all you felt before you went unconscious.

-

After too many attempts, Tom was able to successfully break the lock of the gym door. Hearing you continuously and vigorously increase the speed of the conveyor belt made him move in haste, leading to his multiple failures. He was too worried about your wellbeing to think straight.

As he stepped into the room, he saw your hands fall limp by your side, and your body rocked to the side, off balance. With wide eyes, he ran to your slipping figure before you could make contact with the hard floor.

“Darling? Love? Are you alright? Please answer me,” he cried, looking at the pain-etched face of yours.

Not receiving a response, he quickly stood, carrying you bridal style in his arms and back into your shared bedroom.

-

You rolled your head to the side, hearing a rustling beneath you. Your body felt overheated, aching to feel even the slightest of breezes.

As you began to move your leg to kick the thick duvet off your body, you flinched in pain, reflexively grabbing said leg to support it.

“Don’t move. You’ll only make it hurt more,” a gentle voice explained from behind you.

Consumed by your pain, you hadn’t even noticed you were tucked in your bed, back in your shared bedroom. 

The familiar brunette you had spent the day trying to ignore protruded from the shadows, eyes quivering and shining with tears.

“What happened?” You asked, throat oddly hoarse.

“You overworked yourself. You fainted whilst running,” he explained, “I was so fucking worried, darling. I almost lost you,” he shook his head, “No, I could’ve lost you, but I didn’t. I’m so lucky to have opened that door before you hit the ground.” A few tears began to leak out of the inner corners of his chocolate eyes as he thought of the scenario of him not saving you in time.

“It’s all my fault,” he let out a loud so, “If I hadn’t said that you weren’t good enough or that you were too reckless, you wouldn’t be here,” he placed a hand onto the bed, “in this wretched bed, resting as you are now. Your thigh wouldn’t be bleeding out, right now, if I hadn’t insulted you out of frustration and worry. I wasn’t—” he hiccuped, “I didn’t have my head on straight. If I did, I would’ve been more generous and not passive to you. You were only trying to help me, and all I repaid you with were insults.”

Pitifully looking at your boyfriend, you moved a weak arm to his hand, tugging him down onto his knees. You patted his curled locks, giving him the best smile you could muster.

“I know you were concerned for me, but what you said really hurt me. You know how,” you thought for a proper word for a moment, “insecure I can be about my abilities in this field. There’s so much— too much competition in my industry and having to keep up this perfect, high-leveled assassin façade is taking a toll on my mental health.”

Tom’s eyes shook with despair. He never knew you felt this way. He’d never want you to have to deal with your hardships alone.

“But, because of you, I’ve been trying my best and pushing myself over so many of my limits to make me the best I can be. I mean, you’re one of the most powerful mobsters to be, so it would only make sense if I were one of the most successful and strongest assassin, right?”

Shaking his head, he cried, “No, not if it means breaking yourself apart and tearing your morale into pieces.” He grabbed both your small hands, enclosing them in his. He looked straight into your eyes, sniffling away his tears, “I don’t care whether you’re number one or number 3 billion. All I care about is your happiness and wellbeing. I want you to live your best life with me. I want you to feel like you can trust me and come to me whenever you need me because I am here. I will continue to be here through thick and thin. I love you. Not because you’re one of the most skilled assassins, not because you’re someone I can flaunt to others, but because you are the most beautiful, talented, intelligent, lovable person I know. I wouldn’t exchange you for the world.” 

This time, Tom’s eyes didn’t sparkle because of his sorrowful tears, they twinkled because of his love and adoration towards you and only you.

“I-I love you, too, Tommy, and I promise that I’ll come to you whenever I need you,” you placed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You can also come to me anytime as well,” you blushed.

“Thank you, love,” he tilted his head, smiling, thumb stroking the blush on your cheeks.

“Thank you, bubs, for having my back and understanding me and putting up with me.”

Pulling on his arm, you dragged him into bed with you to cuddle. He stumbled as he focused on avoiding touching your injuries.

That night you fell asleep in each other’s arms, an unbreakable bond connecting the two of you. You understood him, and he, you.

All left of that tragic night from before had dissipated into nothingness, except for her blood-stained bodysuit.

taglist: @marlenetough @big-galaxy-chaos @chloecreatesfictions-archive @dpaccione

The Price of Freedom Masterlist

Mobster!Steve Rogers x Mobster!Reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: You have been a weapon to the Russian Mafia for as long as you could remember. You were feared among the whole world but the Council killed your sister for betraying and breaking rules. Now, you want revenge and you want out of this world. Can Steve Rogers, the king of Brooklyn, help you escape?

Warnings: violence, fluff, angst, smut [18+], mentions of blood and torture, character deaths

Author’s Note: So I reread the past demon in the spoke and I honestly don’t like it. So! I’m redoing it! I really like this idea of trying to escape and they end up falling in love and so they escape together. Also, the reader is kinda based on John Wick… just female. 

*Indicates smut

chapter one: steve rogers 

chapter two: sam wilson

chapter three: natasha romanoff*

chapter four: t’challa and shuri 

chapter five: bucky barnes 

chapter six: bruce banner and scott lang

chapter seven: nick fury

chapter eight: thor

chapter nine: carol danvers

chapter ten: tony stark and peter parker

chapter eleven: home sweet home

His Most Prized Possession

Pairing || Dark!Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Summary || You’re the wife of the most feared man in all of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes, the mob boss of the biggest mafia in town. Your his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property, his most prized possession. He will torture and kill anyone who dares to make any advances on his woman, and he won’t hesitate to show them who you belong to in the most sinful way possible before their end…

Word Count || 8876

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut, Angst, Dark Themes — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, slight dub-con, Dark!Jealous!Possessive!Bucky, angry/vicious!Bucky, soft!Bucky, mob/mafia business, mention of drugs/alcohol, violence, implied use of weapons, implied torture, blood, murder, crying, use of force, graphic/explicit content/language, pet names (doll, baby, babe, princess + others), unprotected vaginal sex, exhibition kink, forced voyeurism, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m & f receiving), teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging, fingering, spanking, choking, rough fucking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, aftercare.

Authors Note || After a lot of work it’s finally done! I’m so proud of this! Please enjoy this twisted and sinful journey! Feedback would be so much appreciated on this piece <3 I want to know what you think!

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

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The Underground Lounge

It was the most high-profile club in all of New York City. A place for criminals, the filthy rich, politicians and like-minded people to converge in secrecy for whatever they desire with no repercussions, whether that be alcohol, drugs, women, sex or just a fun time. Everything and anything went down here.

The club was nestled deep below The Blend nightclub, which acted as a cover for the underworld of crime below.

They were both owned by James Buchanan Barnes—Bucky amongst friends and loved ones. The most feared man in all of the city and the mob boss of the biggest and baddest mafia in town. He was also your husband. Your dangerous, vicious and sexy husband.

You and Bucky would usually be at the club on the weekends for some party and fun, which you were right now.

The VIP area that was only reserved for Bucky and company was slightly elevated over the rest of the club—giving Bucky the best view to look over his domain. It also showed the guests that they were nothing compared to the boss sitting on the high throne. The VIP area had an abundance of seating places—fitting several people. All compacted in a sizeable curved couch with a low circular table in the middle to put drinks on or other substances, for that matter. There was also enough space for Bucky’s security to keep a lookout over the club and its activities.

Today it was only you and Bucky attending. No friends, no other company, except for your security detail.

With a good percentage of alcohol in your system, you and he were all over each other—lips sloppily crashing into one another as you moaned and groaned into each other's mouths and hands roamed both your bodies.

You'd unbuttoned a few buttons of his white long-sleeved shirt—wanting to feel his collarbone and chest underneath your fingertips as you made out. His dark blue velvet dress jacket was tossed to the side long ago. Your other hand rested delicately on top of his covered bulge—palming him ever so often.

Bucky’s hand kept a tight grip on your naked upper thigh; the short little dress you wore barely covered anything, giving him easy access to your skin. His other held your throat gently in his grasp, making it impossible to move away from him not that you wanted to.

Ever so slightly, he inches his way higher up your thigh, hicking your dress up with his moves, as he caressed your delicate skin with his rough hands, making you moan and whimper into his mouth. His end goal was to get into your panties—wanting to force his fingers knuckle-deep into you and have you make a mess all over them.

It wasn't unusual for him and you to get a little naughty together in the club. On multiple occasions, you'd have his fingers deep inside your pussy or straddle his lap to grind yourself on his clothed cock. And occasionally giving him a handjob here and there.

You'd think he would be against having you so exposed to everyone’s prying eyes since he was always so protective and possessive over you in day-to-day life. But on the contrary, he loved showing you off here. It gave him the power to assert his dominance over you and make everyone know that you're his—his girl, his beauty, his love, his property and his most prized possession.

This was his club—his rules—his everything. Everyone knew not to mess with the mob boss's precious wife. Not unless they had a death wish.

Your body tingled in anticipation of having his digits buried deep inside you. You were so ready for it. So needy for it, but… God, did you really have to pee now, urgently.

“Bucky.”

His name came out in a moan rather than a plea for him to stop with his touches, making him think you wanted more. He swiped your damp panties with his thumb while his lips assaulted your neck with licks, kisses and bites, making you whine even more.

“Bucky!”

You placed your hands on his chest, shoving him lightly off you, making him stop with his kisses and retract his hand from under your dress.

“What!”

An annoyed tone was laced in his voice, but that quickly turned into concern as he thought something was wrong.

“What is it, baby?”

His thumb caressed your cheek lovingly as he tried to search your face for any discomfort. There was none, so he didn’t understand why you'd make him stop.

“I just really need to go pee.”

He nodded his head in understanding and was about to call for one of the security to accompany you, but you stopped him before he could.

“No! I can go on my own.”

“Doll…”

He cocked his head to the side. He didn’t like that. He didn’t want you going on your own.

Although the club was a safe space for you to wander around due to everyone knowing who you were and not daring to approach you under any circumstances, Bucky still wanted you looked after due to the reason that occasionally a rouge and unwanted person managed to get into the club, despite the tight security, and cause chaos and bothering the other club patrons. But that rarely happened, and right now, you just wanted to go on your own without having anyone on your tail all the time.

“Please, Bucky,” you pleaded with those puppy-dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist, “if I'm not back in 15 minutes, you can come and find me.”

“Alright, princess,” he pecked your lips, “but hurry back to me, baby,” and once more, “because I need to bury my fingers in your tight little pussy….”

He cupped your core harsh, making you moan out at the roughness. Bucky groaned out as he touched what belonged to him.

“... my tight little pussy.”

He growled in your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand and your core pulsate at his filthy words.

“I’ll be right back, babe.”

You gave him one last peck before you got up and fixed your dress—the material had bundled up your hips entirely. Bucky gave you a light tap on your ass before you walked away in search of the bathroom.

You did your business in the bathroom and freshened up before walking out to the club’s main area.

Bucky hadn't left his positing from the VIP area. His leg was crossed over the other, and his arms rested on the back of the couch while he looked calm and relaxed. You wanted to take advantage of your freedom and decided to get a quick drink at the bar before returning to him.

You made your way to the bar that was settled in the middle of the club while swaying your hips to the music playing. Luckily, the bar wasn't packed, so it should be a quick deal.

You order the drink and make yourself comfortable with your elbows on the bar counter, squeezing your breasts together, almost exposing them entirely. Your ass poked out behind you—the dress so tiny and short that it almost showed your entire ass.

You knew everyone had their eyes on you, thirsting and yearning for you—for something they knew they could never have, and that's what you loved so much about it. In this club, you loved being a little cock-tease to everyone—it made you feel powerful.

While waiting for your drink, you scanned and observed the club’s guests. Most of them you'd seen before and recognised—politicians with their mistresses, criminals making shady deals with each other, and some new faces you'd never seen before. Everyone looked to be in great spirit and having fun tonight.

“My, my… don't you look pretty tonight.”

A deep, smooth voice murmured in your ear, making you jump out of your skin a little at the roughness of it. You thought it was Bucky for a second, but the voice didn’t match quite right. When you spun around, you found yourself caught in an intense gaze by a man. Usually, you'd back away and decline any stranger like that, but something about him just made your whole being scream in need.

The man oozed danger, sex and confidence—all things you loved and had gotten so used to with Bucky. So you couldn't help yourself when you got ensnared in this stranger's trap. You knew you shouldn't talk to this man. Bucky would be pissed if he found out. But Bucky wasn't here right now, and the drink should be done any second, so you decided to play along and then would politely decline once it was time. Bucky would never know.

“Well, hello to you, stranger.”

You batted your eyelashes at him and gave him your most appetising smile and gestures you could muster up, popping your hip out and tilting your head to the side, wanting to play a bit dirty and rile him up.

“My, you're the prettiest little thing in this whole club.”

He came closer, almost pinning you against the bar with his massive frame. He licked his lips as his eyes travelled across your whole body. This man was playing a dangerous game in approaching you like that—intentions clearly sexual.

He presented his hand, and you took it gladly, shaking it.

“The names Roman,” he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it while maintaining eye contact, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Roman?

Roman?

You'd heard that name before, but you couldn't quite put your finger on who he was. It was such an unusual name that you would think with such a name, you'd remember who it belonged to, but your mind was completely blank. It must be the alcohol and the intense surge of sexual energy you were experiencing.

“The pleasure is all mine, Roman,” you gave him your name, which made him smirk when he heard it.

“That's a beautiful name, princess. What brings you to this club, sweet thing?”

“Oh, I-”

The conversation was cut abruptly by someone grabbing Roman’s shoulder and pulling him away from you, turning him to face whoever it was.

You gasped.

Shit. It was Bucky.

His face was stone cold as he stared Roman down with absolute dark rage in his eyes. His fists clenched by his side—knuckles turning white.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Roman?” Bucky spat out while getting all up in his face.

Wait?

Bucky knew him?

Oh…

Oh!

Oh, no…

He was that Roman.

Shit. Now you remember.

He's the man that betrayed Bucky about a year ago and went to be with Bucky’s number one rivals instead. You remember at the time what kind of a toll it had taken on Bucky to be so gruesomely crossed.

This was not good. You felt so horrible and guilty now with the later knowledge of know this man was. How could you have forgotten him? Forgotten what he's done? You should have brushed him off instead of instigating his actions further.

You couldn't hear what they were saying because they were so up in each other's faces, but you could tell that it was a heated argument. You wondered what was being said. What kind of complications and events this would all lead to.

Suddenly, Bucky shoved him hard, and it looked like he would fight him right then and there. But he didn’t…

“You’re fucking dead, Roman,” Bucky uttered through gritted teeth.

Bucky came to your side and grabbed your arm hard. So hard that it hurt, and you winced and tossed to try and get out of his harsh grip, but he wouldn't budge. He pulled you back to the VIP area and ordered you to sit on the couch.

“Don't fucking move.”

His words were like poison, making you flinch at the absolute anger in his voice. Your eyes were becoming glossy—tears threatening to spill at any moment. You wrapped your arms around yourself for comfort.

How could you be so stupid? You should have just said no to Roman instead of acting like a fucking brat and whore—wanting to be a little cock tease for a man that wasn't even your man. You should have just been an obedient little wife and returned to your husband like you were supposed to.

Bucky was furiously talking to one of his men for several minutes. You saw how stressed, angry and fearful his demeanour was. His hand ran through his short hair multiple times. It was rare to see Bucky in this state. He was usually tough and determined, not bothered by what people said and did, and always in control of things. But it looked like Roman had really struck a sensitive nerve—said something that had put Bucky out of check.

When he was done conversing, he came back to you and took your hand, gently this time, and pulled you with him out of the main club area, not saying a thing. It looks like you were leaving. You went through the backdoor that was only used for you and Bucky and a selected few other people.

Once in the elevator, Bucky wrapped a protective arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his torso, still not saying anything. You wanted to say something. To plead for his forgiveness, but you felt awkward doing it in this tight place when you weren't alone. You would try and talk to him in the car when it was just the two of you.

Bucky ushered you into the backseat of the black luxury car, him getting in behind you. You weren't sure where you were going—home, most likely. The screen divider that separated the backseats and driver seat was up, so you were all alone, and you could finally try to talk to him.

“Bucky?”

You tried in a sweet and calm voice.

Nothing.

He pulled his phone out when it pinged with a message. His mouth remained in a thin line, eyebrows furrowed, with no emotions in his eyes as he typed on his phone before placing it inside his jacket.

“Bu-Bucky?”

Your weak voice cracked as his name came out in a sob this time.

“I-I’m so s-sorry. I-I shou-” You sobbed even more, unable to finish your sentence. You were about to cry any second, knowing that Bucky was mad and disappointed in you for being so stupid and reckless. You turned your head away from him, unable to look at his stern face.

“Doll…”

His voice was sweet compared to the poisonous one he used with you in the Underground. You thought he would yell at you once in the car. But it was the opposite. His loving and caring side surfaced—your wonderful husband that loved you beyond words.

“Baby…”

He grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head towards his. His eyes held nothing but love and adoration for you—his wife. His heart broke when he saw a few tears roll down your cheeks, your lips quivering.

“P-please d-don't be mad a-at me, Bucky.”

“Oh, baby… come here.”

He pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around your waist. His head nuzzled in your neck as he laid tender kisses on the soft skin to try and soothe you,

“Mad at you? No, doll. I could never be mad at you, and I’m sorry it came across that way. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you like that, my sweet love.”

“Bu-but, you seemed s-so angry at me. Angry for what I’d done and who I was talking to. I swear, Bucky, I forgot who he was, and I-I just-”

“Doll.” He made you rest your forehead on his. His piercing blue eyes focused deep into yours—showing you that he spoke the truth. “I’m not mad at you at all. Please don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault. Not even the slightest, ok? I love you, babydoll.”

“O-ok. I-I love you t-too, Bucky.”

He dried your tears while giving you a warm smile. “My precious girl.” He cradled your face in his hands and laid a light, comforting kiss on your lips. The kiss slowly progressed to a more passionate one—neediness and love poured into it.

The moment was quickly interrupted by Bucky’s phone pinging with a message in his jacket. He groaned as he fished it out to read it. You caught a glimpse and gasped when you saw what it said.

It's done.

You knew what it meant. It was the worst possible outcome following the events that unfolded in the club.

“Is, is he d-dead?”

“No, no, doll. They only questioned him, that's all.” Bucky tried to reassure you.

You knew what questioned meant. It meant that they had beaten the shit out of him, almost to the point of death. And although Bucky spoke the truth that Roman wasn't dead, he would be soon. Bucky never let something like what happened at the club go unpunished—people trying to cross his line. Certainly not when it comes to you. He would torture and kill anyone who made any advances on you, especially when they were fully aware of who you were and belonged to. And Roman most certainly knew what he was doing when he approached you. He wanted to provoke Bucky and test his limits. And now he would pay for it.

Maybe he didn’t think it through enough? Perhaps he thought he was safe because he was under the protection of Bucky’s rivals?

But one should never underestimate Bucky. He didn’t give a fuck who anyone belonged to, enemies or friends. If provoked, he would have you severely punished or, in the worst case, killed.

You shook your head—not wanting to think about it anymore. Instead, you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder and close your eyes for the remaining car ride. His fingertips delicately caressing your arm lulled you to a relaxed and sleepy state…

———

“Doll,” his soothing voice murmured in your ear, pulling you out from the light sleep, “baby, we’re here.”

You softly moaned as you lifted your head and saw that you’d pulled into the garage of your penthouse—you were indeed home now. Luckily, because you were ready to cuddle up with your husband in bed and go to sleep in his loving and protective embrace.

“You want me to carry you?”

“N-no, I can go on my own.”

Once in the elevator, Bucky pressed the button for the roof terrace, not the apartment like you thought we would. You looked up at him. A confused expression on your face—eyebrows furrowed.

“Are we not going to bed yet?”

“Not yet,” he wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him, and kissed your head, “I have something I want to show you.”

What did he have to show you on the rooftop?

When the elevator arrived, Bucky took your hand and led you to the patio overlooking the light-filled city. Nothing looked unusual. Everything looked as it always did. There was no thing to show. So why did he bring you here?

“Bucky, what are we doing here?”

“Come.”

He led you to the very edge of the fence and wrapped his arms around you from behind. His head rested on your shoulder, and you leaned yours on his.

“Do you see, doll?”

“See what, Bucky?”

“The city!”

“Your city, babe.”

“Our city, baby girl. All of this is for you. Everything I do is for you. You and my undying love for you influence every decision I make in life.”

“James… you know I don't need any of this. I appreciate it, baby, you know that, but… I just need you.”

“I know, I only need you as well, but I just wanted you to know that we’re in this together. We can always count on each other. We will always have one another. Our love is powerful and unbreakable.”

“You know it, Bucky.”

You stood for a while longer. Staring out over your city as you swayed to imaginary music. Bucky’s lips graced your cheek as he whispered sweet nothings that had your heart burst with warmth, love and security.

Words can’t describe how much you loved this man. This vicious, menacing, murderous, but also affectionate, warm and joyous man. One would think such words couldn’t be combined to describe a man—that it doesn't fit. But Bucky was all those, and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

Your sweet bubble was interrupted by another notification on Bucky’s phone, making him groan in annoyance. He held one arm around your waist while the other retrieved his phone.

You couldn't see what it said this time, but he let out a groan of approval and then pulled you with him back to the elevator once he read it.

“Where are we going now? More surprises?”

“We’re just going to our room.”

Ah, finally. As much as you loved Bucky for bringing you up here and expressing his undying love for you, you really just wanted to snuggle up to him in bed now.

But once you arrived at your room, one of Bucky’s men was waiting by the door, which was highly unusual. You wondered what was going on. It probably had something to do about Bucky’s recent text message. Probably an update on Roman and his current… situation. But no matter what it was, you hoped it would be able to wait till the morning. You just wanted Bucky all to yourself now.

“Wait here, doll.”

You stood in place while Bucky approached his man. He whispered something to Bucky, and Bucky nodded before he called you over. The man bid you good night, and then it was finally just you and your husband.

“What was that all about, babe?”

“My love…”

He lay his hands on your shoulders, staring deep into your eyes with seriousness written all over his face.

What was going on?

Why was he acting so… strange?

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do, Bucky, with my life.”

“Would you do anything I ask of you?”

You didn’t like to admit it, but you would kill for this man if the situation ever occurred.

“I-I… yes.”

“Then come with me,” he presented his hand, and you took it without hesitation, “don't be alarmed.”

Alarmed?

He opened the door to your shared master bedroom. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Although you trusted Bucky, his behaviour was more abnormal than usual, which scared you slightly.

You expected to be met with something significant while walking into the room, but there was nothing in the dim-lit room. It was a little hard to see with the lights out, so you scanned the entire space to try and find the abnormality—from the huge windows lining the outer wall, to the bed, and finally, the other side of the room. And that's when you saw it.

You gasped out loud in horror, eyes wide like saucers when you saw a person in the darkened corner of your room. It was a man—beaten, bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair. His scream was muffled by something shoved into his mouth.

Oh my god… it was Roman…

“B-Bucky, wha-”

What was happening? This was wrong. This was so wrong on so many levels. Bucky never brought any of his mob business into your home. He always tried to shield you from that gruesome aspect of his world as best as possible. So what was he doing?

You backed away slowly but were stopped by colliding into Bucky’s chest. He grabbed your upper arms to keep your shaking form in place. His breath fanned your face while he whispered in your ear.

“Don’t be scared, my love.”

You were very much horrified by the sight of a bloodied and bruised man bound tight in your room. I mean, who wouldn't be?

“Wh-what i-is going o-on?”

You contemplated screaming and running away. If that's what you wanted, Bucky would have let you go—he would never force you into doing something you absolutely didn’t want. But you didn’t move a muscle. This situation intrigued you. Bucky’s vicious and twisted mind fascinated you.

Although you were the innocent and sweet one in the relationship, you had a slight devious nature to you as well. So you wanted to see what kind of plans Bucky had in store for bringing Roman into your privacy. What kind of things does he want to do. So you let go of all your worries and went with the flow.

With Bucky’s hand secured around your neck, craning your chin up to make you look at Roman. Bucky spoke, loud enough for Roman to hear as well, the most sinful, possessive and immoral words he's ever uttered—making you shamelessly aroused and almost crumble to the floor.

“He’s gonna watch us, doll, all powerless tied up in that chair as I do with you as I please. He’s gonna watch as I undress you and expose your beautiful flesh to his eyes. He’s gonna watch as I kiss, lick, suck and bite all over your skin. He’s gonna watch and hear as I make you moan, whimper and scream. He’s gonna watch as I fuck you hard, my wife. Claiming your body and soul as mine, and mine only.”

Fuck.

You were all in.

Bucky circled his arms around your waist and brought you closer to his firm chest. Very delicately, he started leaving kisses on your exposed shoulder, making you purr in delight. His feather-light kisses made goosebumps erupt on your skin. You craned your neck to the side, giving his lips more space to continue their journey further up. A loud moan of satisfaction escaped you as he became rougher with it—licking and sucking on your tender sweet spot.

In a swift motion, he removed your little dress—leaving you in your pretty underwear. His hands started roaming all over your exposed body, paying close attention to all your curves with his fingers—hips, waist and breasts—especially your breasts. He palmed them in his grasp and pinched your nipple through the material of your bra, making you wince out at the slight pain.

While one of his hands palmed your breast, the other ran down your stomach and found its way into your panties, making you gasp once his expert fingers found your aching core. He ran his fingers through your slick folds, groaning deeply in your ear, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand.

“Fuck, baby, already so wet and messy for me, huh? Did that turn you on, princess? My little speech about fucking you and claiming you as mine while he watches all helpless?”

“U-uh, huh.”

You were revelling in the pleasure your twisted and loving husband provided you that there was no way to form any coherent words, let alone sentences. It made Bucky chuckle in a sinister way at how absolute speechless he could make you with such simple touches.

Then it all stopped—his touches and kisses. You whined out in protest and were starting to turn around to see what was going on, but he stopped you by grabbing your upper arms and turning you towards Roman again.

“Stay still, baby.”

Thankfully, his delicate touches returned to your skin. His fingers ran from your shoulder and down until they met the clasp of your bra—unclasping it with no difficulty. The bra straps ran down your arms and hit the floor with a soft thud. Your breasts fully exposed to the two men.

With Bucky’s hands caressing your waist, he descended to the floor behind you. His fingers hooked into your panties and pulled them down your legs. Now, you were fully exposed; your parts that Bucky was so protective and possessive over came to light.

He left a wet kiss on each of your ass cheeks before travelling the kisses upward your naked back—until he stood straight up and wrapped his hand around your throat again, making you yelp and pay full attention to the man tied to the chair. Bucky spoke loud again for him to hear as well.

“This here is all mine. My body—my tits, my ass, my pussy,” he groped your wet and naked core, making you gasp out, “Only I will get to touch and take all of her as I please. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

“I-it’s yours, B-Bucky, I-I belong to y-you.”

He turned you around and pulled your naked body flush into his clothed one. His hand grasped the back of your neck and brought your lips to his—hungrily kissing you, tongues caressing one another as you moaned and groaned into the heated and needy kiss. His other hand took hold of your ass cheek—altering between squeezing hard and delivering slaps to the plump flesh, which made you whimper into his mouth each time he did.

While still keeping your lips connected, Bucky manoeuvred you to the foot of the bed and removed his jacket while you helped with unbuttoning his white shirt—tearing it off his muscular body.

You roamed your hands all over his hard chest and stomach, moaning as you felt every curve and dip of his delicious muscles. While you touched him, Bucky went to work on getting his pants off.

“Let me.”

You descended to your knees, finding a comfortable place on the marble floor, and helped him tug his pants and underwear down. A satisfied gasp slips from your mouth as his hard cock springs to life—slapping against his belly.

“This cock belongs to me, doesn't it, daddy?” You mutter as you take a firm grasp on his base, and kitten lick his tip while looking up at him.

Bucky chuckled at your possessive nature, licking his lips. You could be just as possessive over Bucky as he was over you, and he loved it. He belonged to you as much as you belonged to him.

“You know it does, baby,” his hand cradled your face, “all of me belongs to you, body and soul.”

You pushed him down to sit on the foot of the bed, his hands on the mattress keeping his weight up. His eyes were fixated on your kneeling form as you nestled between his spread legs. The palm of your hands caressed his thighs up and down as you stared at his entire cock—your mouth watering at how delicious it looked.

“I’m so hungry for your cock, daddy.”

“Yeah? You gonna show him what a little cock-whore you are, baby?”

“Yes,” a glob of your spit fell on him, making him groan as your hand jerked him and spread the saliva all over his length, “I’m a little cock-whore that wants your cock in my mouth.”

He twitched at your lewd words.

“Take all of me then.”

With his hand at the back of your head, he guided and encouraged you to take him whole. With no hesitation, you engulfed his length immediately—too cock-hungry to tease and toy with him until he begged for you. You desperately needed his length deep in your throat.

You gagged around him as he tickled the back of your throat. The vibrations made him shudder where he sat. With each hand cradling your face, he forced your head up and down on him, thrusting his hips upwards to meet your moves.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and saliva dribbled out of your mouth as he forced his way down your throat. It was so messy and erotic—sloppy sounds filled the room.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he concentrated on how your warm and wet mouth felt on his throbbing cock. Guttural groans rumbled in his throat.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well, baby.”

He removed you from him, which made you whine in protest—missing the feel of him choking you with it. Your hand wrapped around him and jerked his length in long strokes as you presented your tongue—showing him how absolute needy you were for his cock shoved deep in your cavity.

With his fingers holding your jaw, he leaned down till he was level with your face and gifted you a glob of his spit on your awaiting tongue. “Fucking whore, you know that?” You nod your head. The degrading action and words had your pussy flutter. You rolled your tongue into your mouth and leaned down to retake him, bobbing your head while Bucky supported his weight on his hands, allowing you to take control of his cock as he sat and enjoyed the lewd performance.

“I bet you’re fucking jealous now.” Bucky sneered at Roman as the corner of his mouth turned up in a sinister smirk.

Your hand accompanied your mouth—stroking his base while your mouth paid attention to his sensitive head—finding a perfect rhythm to bring Bucky over the edge. The other hand cupped his balls to fondle them.

“Look at me….”

You peered up at him through your thick lashes while you had your mouth and hands full of his cock and balls. Drool and tears covering all of you.

“...fucking shit, doll, you’re gonna make me come.” A few seconds later, he grunted as he reached his climax. His hand gripping your shoulder hard to brace himself.

Watching his face contour in pure pleasure, moaning, groaning and grunting while his thick load shoots down your throat must be one of the most pornographic scenes you’d ever witnessed. Your pussy fluttered at the sight and vocalisation of him—slickness running down your inner thighs.

Holy fucking shit.

You worked him thoroughly through his intense orgasm to make him feel as good as possible. Not letting a single drop of him go to waste—all of it trickled down your throat.

Once he had come down from his high, you pulled him out from your mouth, making his head leave with a pop. Bucky hisses as his sensitive cock is freed from your expert hold.

You were a mess—drool covering your face, hands and tits, but to Bucky, it was the most stunning you’d ever looked.

“Oh, baby. So beautiful and messy for me.”

With his hand holding your throat, he leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss which you whimpered into.

“Get on the bed.”

All giddy, you switched places with him. Your elbows supported your weight as you spread your legs for him, showing him your glistening and needy pussy.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

“Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”

Bucky tugged your legs, pulling you further towards him—till your ass was right by the edge of your bed.

“Not yet, babydoll. I need to taste that pussy first.”

He finds a comfortable place on his knees between your spread legs so he can go to work in worshipping all of you, like the Goddess you are. His face is inches from where you so desperately need him, feeling his breath on you, making your pussy ache for him. You arch into his face, your hand running over his short hair, begging for him to taste you, touch you, do anything to you. To eat you out until he shatters your existence.

“Please, Bucky,” you pathetically plead.

“You want it, baby?”

The tip of his tongue flickers your nub. That simple touch has your whole body convulse on the bed and a soft whimper escaping you.

God, you were so needy.

“P-please.”

“I’ll make you feel so fucking good, princess,” he laid a simple kiss on your wet folds, making you convulse once more, “but first, I need to clean up this mess you’ve made, baby.” He was referring to the slickness that had spilt from you, running down your inner thighs.

While his hands caressed the side of your waist, making delicious tingles erupt on your skin, he went to work on cleaning you up with his tongue—licking up the mess you’ve made, moaning at your taste. “Your taste is outstanding, baby.” Your whimper in pain and pleasure as he nips the skin of your inner thigh with his teeth—his tongue soothing the sting after.

“You have the prettiest pussy; you know that, baby? I’m so lucky that I’m the only man who will ever get to see it, to taste it,” he licks your outer lips, which has you arch into him for more, “and to fuck this needy little cunt.”

Finally, he places his mouth where you desperately need it to be. He drags his broad tongue through your folds and flicks the tip of it on your clit. The action has you arch your back, and your eyes flutter shut.

“O-oh…”

A glob of his saliva hits your clit, trickling down your folds. He groans as he watches his mess mix with your own—making your pussy look like the most delicious five-star meal he’s ever seen.

“Look at him, baby. Look at him while I eat your pussy.”

You turned your head to look at the man bound in his chair. It’s fucked up to admit it, but it turned you on to have Bucky between your thighs while a beaten-down man watched. You could see him shaking in his chair, shock overloading his system while his bloodied face pleaded for mercy—for his hurt and misery to end.

Fuck, this was hot.

You moaned loudly as Bucky went to work on devouring your pussy like a starved man that hasn’t had a decent meal in forever. He drags his tongue through your slit multiple times to get all of your flavours. His groan against your pussy at the taste has you quiver on the mattress and a loud cry emitting from you.

He lewdly spits on your pussy to claim ownership over it before his lips wrap around your raw nub—altering between sucking and licking the sensitive nerve. You try to keep your focus on Roman, but your eyes flutter at the pleasure, your mind and vision becoming blurry.

Two fingers penetrate your velvet walls, stretching you out and reaching knuckle deep, making you wail out. Their tips brush against the spot that has you absolutely lose it, making you writhe on the bed. The other works your breast—palming the supple flesh in his grasp, pinching and pulling on your sensitive nipple. You're nothing but cries of pleasure—moaning, groaning and whimpering as Bucky works you to perfection.

You feel kind of embarrassed at how noisy and pathetic you sound, so you bite your bottom lip hard to try and keep yourself down. Bucky didn’t like that at all.

“No, no,” he releases your clit from his hold, “let him hear. Let him hear all your pretty noises, baby.”

He quickly returned his assaults on your swollen clit that throbbed in need. His fingers moved in and out of you at an expert pace, and his other hand worked your breast.

Upon his wishes, you let your cries of satisfaction flow freely—filling up the bedroom. Your breathing hitched in your throat as the buildup was nearing its breaking point, so close to shattering your whole existence—body and soul.

Both your hands are placed at the back of his head, keeping him there so that he cannot move away and deny you your pleasure under no circumstances. Your hips rock into his vicious mouth as you chase your orgasm—it’s right there, so close.

“Bucky,” you cry as you come hard, your toes curling and your whole body convulsing on the bed. You try keeping your gaze on Roman as the coil in your stomach snaps, but your eyes cross. The surge of intense pleasure on your mind and body is almost indescribable—you’ve never come so hard in your entire life. As stars blur your vision, you feel like you're floating on a cloud.

Bucky groans as he works through your orgasm, your clit throbbing in his mouth and your tight walls fluttering around his digits. He’s in awe as he watches you fall apart like you’ve never done before, and he doesn't stop pleasuring you until you are all but satisfied.

You sob from sensitivity as his mouth and fingers leave your used and abused pussy. You’re a panting and heaving mess as you try and come back to your senses.

“You have no idea how sexy and breathtaking you are when you come like that, baby,” he says before kissing your mound, making you twitch. He proceeds with his kisses up your stomach and gives each of your nipples a lick; each touch has you spasm on the bed at how overly sensitive your whole body feels. He comes to face you—gently laying a kiss on your lips so you can taste yourself.

“I really fucked you up, didn’t I? I’m the only one that can make you come like that, huh?”

All you can do is nod while babbling unfinished words as you still haven’t recovered from your high.

Bucky chuckled at your distant and fucked out state.

“I’ll fuck you up some more, doll. He’s gonna watch as I absolutely wreck you.”

He pulls you further up the bed until you’re both in the middle of it.

With his hard cock in hand, he taps the head on your swollen clit, making you twitch and sob; a weak no falls from your lips as you place your hand on his hip to try and push him off.

You can’t. You’re so overly sensitive that it hurts. You can’t take anymore. But Bucky didn’t seem to give a fuck. He wasn’t done with you.

“I-I c-can’t.”

“Yes, you can, baby.” He speaks through gritted teeth.

He takes your hand off him and pins it down on the mattress.

Again he taps your clit, pulling out the same reaction from you as before. He glides his leaking tip through your wet folds. Gradually, his cock gliding on your tingling nub feels fucking incredible, and you’re ready for him to wreck you with his length.

“Please, daddy, fuck me.”

He groaned out at your neediness for him and lined his tip with your quivering entrance. Slowly, inch by inch, he penetrates your tight velvet walls with his cock, making you whimper at the slight ache. His hands grasp the back of your thighs as he forces his way inside you, guttural groans rumbling in his throat as your warm and tight walls engulf him. The last bit of him he forcefully pushes inside you, slamming into your pelvis, making you sob a cry, and your eyes roll back—showing white. The feeling of fullness has you blabbering pleas for him to destroy and fuck you senseless.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

His voice is so deep and husky, making your walls flutter around his length, pulling out a heavy moan from him.

“I’ll fuck you so good, doll.”

He pulls out and then forces himself hard into you again, making you jolt and cry on the mattress. He does it a few times, being rough and abusive with it, before he starts fucking your tightness in deep and powerful strokes, slapping his skin against yours.

He hoists your legs on his shoulder, pinning them against his front, as he thrusts into you, his tip brushing your sweet spot each time he reaches deep inside you. You’re nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess as you take it all. Your hands grip the sheets to brace yourself, your eyes cross as he fucks you into oblivion, and your breasts bounce with each abusive thrust he delivers.

“My pussy. Mine, mine, mine, mine,” he grunts between each hard thrust, watching his length disappear through your walls.

There's nothing on your brain other than his cock—nothing but earth-shattering pleasure that it's giving.

You convey that you want him closer with grabby hands as you’re entirely speechless with how he’s fucking you.

Answering your pleas, he drops your legs on each side before lowering his body till his naked chest meets yours, holding his weight up so he won’t completely crush your sensitive body. His forehead rests on yours as his warm breath hits your face.

“So needy for my cock, huh? So needy for all of me?”

You can only let out a sound of approval.

“Good fucking girl.”

With the rolls of his hips, he manages to reach even deeper inside you, making you wail in pleasure. You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck, clinging to him with your weak strength. The buildup was fast due to your last orgasm, and you were ready to explode with pleasure once more.

“I-I-I’m go….”

You couldn't even form a coherent sentence, making Bucky chuckle at how good he was fucking your brains.

“You gonna come, baby?”

“U-uh, huh.”

“Look at him, baby,” with his fingers on your jaw; he turned your head to look at Roman, “look at him as you cream and make a mess all over my cock, you fucking whore. Look at him while I stuff your little cunt.”

You try to keep your focus on him, but it was near impossible with the way Bucky was fucking you, clouding your every sense.

A few more brutal thrusts, and you come hard, toes curling, almost blacking out at the intensity. Silent noises escape your open mouth, and your eyes roll as you explode around his cock—your walls viciously pulsating around his length and making a mess all over him. Tears streamed down your face as it became too much, too hard, but you wanted more; you wanted his cum to fill you so badly, so you pulled him in tighter with your weak legs, wanting him to spill his warm seed inside you.

With a heavy grunt, he spurts ropes after ropes of his cum inside you, decorating your walls. His hips snapped rapidly against you as he filled you up to the brim, emptying himself entirely and not stopping until you were both fucked out and satisfied.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl taking all of me.”

He stilled inside once he was done, making a breath of relief and satisfaction escape you, and a deep groan came from him at the aftershocks. He peppers kisses on your clammy neck and collarbone, whispering sweet praises and affirmation after being so dominant and rough with you. You hold him close, nuzzling your face into his short hair as you hum and sigh in contentment at being stuffed full of his cum.

A whimper falls from you as his body leaves yours, leaving you cold, followed by a sob as his cock leaves your used and abused hole, leaving you unfulfilled.

“Look at that, baby,” Bucky was fascinated with his cum trickling out of your quivering hole, ”such a pretty sight.” He collected all of the cum with his tip and pushed himself hard into you again, making you squeal. After giving you a few more strokes, he pulled out, making the cum flow out once more. He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, followed by some words that made your breath hitch.

“Stay still, baby. I need to show him.”

He what?

You were still and spread out like he requested, your body too sensitive and sore to move anyways. With hooded eyes, you watch Bucky’s naked behind as he walks away from you and over to the man bound tight in the corner.

Bucky removes the gag from Roman’s mouth, and you can hear him coughing blood and saliva as his voice is freed. He tries to say something, but it comes out as a gurgling sound.

“Did you really fucking think I would let you go unpunished from my club, you fucking filth?”

Bucky’s fist connects with Roman’s bloodied and bruised face—the noise of skin punching skin and the crackling of Roman’s teeth at the force of it is the most uncomfortable sound you’ve ever heard. You shut your eyes tight as Bucky hits him again, and then a last time.

“Did you really fucking think I would let you speak about my wife like that without me having your head for it?”

You still didn’t know what Roman had said to Bucky in the club, but it was obviously triggering. So Bucky had gone to this extent in showing him, and others for that matter, what happens when someone spoke about his possessions.

Bucky removed his restraints and pulled Roman by his hair over to you on the bed—propping him up so he rested on his knees, his bruised face close to your pussy.

You were lost for words at what was happening, at what Bucky was doing. You just closed your eyes tight and hoped that whatever was going to happen would be over soon.

“Look at that, huh. Look at it. Isn’t it so fucking beautiful?”

Bucky was referring to his cum seeping out of your quivering hole—making a beautiful mess.

Roman looked with hooded eyes and tried to say something, but his words came out strained and unclear.

“Fucking LOOK AT IT!”

Bucky yelled in his face. It startled you and made tears roll down your cheek. This feels so degrading… but my God, also so fucking hot at the same time—to have someone being forced to look at your most intimate part that’s just been used and abused and stuffed full of cum.

Roman looks with wide eyes now, well, one at least; the other one is too bruised to open fully. He makes a painful noise as Bucky pulls his head up by his hair.

“This is mine. My pussy,” Bucky spreads your lips, “this is my girl, my fucking wife, and that’s my fucking cum that’s claimed her. You will never ever get to touch her. Touch what rightfully belongs to me. How dare you come into my club and use your filthy disgusting words on my wife, especially after betraying me like that, you worthless piece of shit.”

Bucky tosses him to the ground, his body hitting the hard floor in a loud thud while he groans in pain.

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky spat at him.

Bucky retrieves his phone from his jacket, and you hear his thumbs moving across the keyboard—typing a message. You’re unsure what’s happening and too tired and slightly traumatised to ask questions.

A few seconds later, there’s a knock on the bedroom door, and Bucky stands with his back, all tall and broad, to you, blocking your body so whoever is on the other end can’t see you fully exposed. Bucky doesn’t care about his own nudity in the slightest.

Whoever entered the room didn’t say anything, but you could hear them come closer and stop by Roman, waiting for Bucky to give them instructions.

“Dispose of him,” Bucky utters in a deep and sinister voice.

“Yes, Sir.”

You hear Roman getting pulled away, never to be seen again, and then a door closes, leaving only you and Bucky in your bedroom.

“Baby.”

His sweet and caring voice was back; his protective and warm touches were back—your loving husband. He cleans you off with his shirt and then cradles your body, making you sit on his lap as he wraps his tender, soft arms around your frame. You nuzzle your face into his sweaty neck, a tired sigh leaving you as his fingers run delicately on your clammy skin, soothing your aching flesh and lulling you to sleep.

“Are you ok, doll?” He takes your tired face in his hands, making you look at his concerned one, searching yours for any sign of stress or discomfort. “Was that too much? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, doll, you had to see that, to hear that. That I had to put you through that.”

You honestly didn’t know what to say at what just unfolded—too tired and sore to process the whole event properly, but you were ok, for now. You were just happy to finally have your husband to yourself after such a pleasurable and vicious evening. All you wanted now was to fall asleep in his protective embrace.

All worries and questions about tonight could wait until the morning.

“I-I’m o-ok, James, just tired,” you yawn.

“Oh, baby…”

He scoots you up the bed—until you both rest your heads on the fluffy pillows, facing each other.

“... come here.”

You make yourself small and vulnerable as you nuzzle and cling to the embrace of your vicious lover and protector—his arms and legs holding you close. A content sigh breathes through you as your head tucks into his chest; listening to the calming beats of his heart—this was your home, where you wanted to be forever; despite Bucky’s brutal nature at times, you never ever wanted to leave his side.

Bucky’s murderous hands treat your skin like it's the most delicate thing in the world—softly stroking your back, making you shudder and purr in delight. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered against your hair, followed by a hum of a pleasant tune that slowly lulls you to sleep.

The last thing you hear are words that solidify your love and trust for your husband.

“You’re mine, mine only, my everything, and I love you beyond words, my sweet love….”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Hey 👋

I want you to post a mafia Lando x reader moodboard

😎

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

mafia!lando who never really believed in being 'sappy simp,' as he gracefully likes to put it till he started coming over to barista!reader's cafe.

it was a simple day where he was too frustrated to have coffee at home when he stumbled upon your cafe, then he started frequenting till one day, he finally saw you and it was like the world stopped for a second.

barista!reader who already knew what work lando did for a living and was secretly shaking behind the counter once he walked in with his bodyguard. mafia!lando who failed to notice the flicker of fear in your eyes because he was too busy admiring you.

barista!reader who took too long to take lando seriously, you told him to befriend you and stay clean if he was serious about taking you out when he walked in with a bouquet and a charming smile on his face and he simply had no choice but to oblige.

mafia!lando who would change routines and come to your cafe every time he was free, even if he only had twenty minutes free. " just couldn't wait to see my pretty girl." he would drop you off and pick you up in the evening. you guys were already living together as far as he was concerned.

mafia!lando who would be the first to apologise after arguments because he was just so scared of losing you. barista!reader who didn't like that and confronted him about it. "baby, I don't care who apologises first as long as I go to bed with you in my arms."

mafia!lando who only four months in is already obsessed with the reader and despite your reassurance makes sure he knows where you are at all times. he would have a guard posted outside your cafe and despite your prior reservation, you wouldn't lie that having someone there helped you calm down.

mafia!lando who would help you the day you are understaffed because both of your coworkers got viral. barista!reader who would focus more on his tattooed arms under folded sleeves as he helped her out order after order. barista!reader who would realise it at that moment that this was love. you were in love.

mafia!lando who never really got the appeal of slow, tender and endearing sex till he had it with you. "feel like you were made for me," he would gasp softly against your lips. "tailor made for me, y/n."

barista!reader who would have never cared of the stares you would get when your scary mafia would lean over the counter to kiss you.

barista!reader who buys an initial necklace for mafia!lando who in return would never take it down. the necklace would be losing color but he wouldn't ever take it off,"it's how people will know I'm yours baby." and you would feel so in love that all there's left to do is kiss him and show him just how much you are his too.

(misc. masterlist \ masterlist \ drop a request )

a/n :: i loved this request so much!! need more drabble, headcanon, moodboard requests lol

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