#mafiaboss

Who would you say is the clingiest ( like who wants / needs to spend a lot of time with y/n to feel happy and content ) ?

[ think of this like as if they’re being interviewed lol ]

“Who’s the most clingy? I would answer Park Sunghoon. That dude act like as if (sh’s y/n) is his oxygen.” Jay answered with a smirk over his face acting like as if the friend he mentioned was not sitting a few feet away from him.

“I vote for Jungwonie!” Sunoo said with a small smile over his face and even raised his hand. Heeseung chuckled beside him and nudged him a little. “Sunoo stop acting like as if we’re electing someone for president.” he joked.

“Why me, hyung?” Jungwon glanced at his Sunoo hyung.

“Do you seriously have the guts to ask why? You were about to cut her leg!”

“Because she’s planning to run away!” Jungwon tries to argue.

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Still, Jungwon is my pick for this.”

“Well my pick would be Ni-ki.” Jungwon said with a smirk.

“What about you, Sunghoon?”

“Jay.” he answered boredly with a smirk. The mentioned mafia boss scoffed.

“Dude you just picked me because I picked you.”

Sunghoon chuckled, “Is that so?”

Jake shakes his head, “My pick is Ni-ki. He seriously goes crazy if she’s not around even for an hour.”

“I agree with Jake.” Heeseung smiled and eyed the maknae because he’s the last to answer.

3:30 am

A red 2018 toyota prius pulls up to the precinct. Two figures step out, a short blonde girl with bandages on her face and knuckles and a tall woman with short blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. The woman wears sea green scrubs with little smiley faces all over them over a white turtleneck athletic shirt. She has comfortable shoes and has her badge clipped to her pocket. Her badge has a cute little smiley face holding it on an elastic string. The girl has a pale pink and white Nike gym bag slung over her right shoulder and the surgeon carries a matching backpack along with a white violin case. 

As soon as the duo makes their way through the doors, they’re ushered into a conference room full of impatient people. Carina scuffs her shoes nervously, eyes scanning the room for her sister. She halts in her tracks when she notices Aksana isn’t in the room.

A middle-aged woman introduces herself as Special Agent Clawson. Her dark skin was complimented by curly black hair pulled into a braided top knot. Clawson wore minimal mascara and neutral lipstick. She was only a few inches taller than Carina so she had to look up at the tall surgeon.

“Thank you for your cooperation Ms…”

“Vasha. Vasha Popov. It is saddening to hear about my dear friends the Bjornos. This is Carina Vilkov, where, might I ask is dear Aksana?” Elisabetta asks with an embellished accent. The two women share a stiff handshake as Agent Clawson scans Carina’s injuries. The team knew that she was involved in underground fights but no teenager should be hurt this badly and still be functioning. Noting the girl’s exhaustion and the fact that it was nearly 3:45 am and the girl probably hadn’t had more than a little nap, she made a decision.

“Carina dear, your father has sent some men to pick you and your sister up. They are three doors down, Agents Dawson and Moore will take you there. Your sister is there too.” 

The two called agents stood from their chairs at the end of the table. Dawson smiled softly at the injured girl as Moore glared daggers at ‘Vasha’. Currently, there was no probable cause to detain the ‘auntie’ as she was not one of the Jade Sisterhood’s known members and hadn’t presented an opportunity but he knew she was hiding something. Without proof though, it was futile. None of their claims would hold up in court so they would have to continue to bide their time. 

Agent Dawson took both of the girl’s bags from the two and started to slowly lead her down the hall. Dawson could tell that their charge was in pain whenever she attempted to speak so they decided to fill the silence themself.

“My name is Briar Dawson, pronouns they/them. That sourpuss over there is Zach Moore, he/him. You’re Carina Vilkov correct? Are your pronouns she/her?” They ask with a smile, assuming yes or no questions would be the easiest form of communication. Carina nods while flashing a thumbs-up. 

“Good to know,” the agent smiles, “would you like me to fill you in on what’s been going on so far or would you like your sister with you? Thumbs up for now, thumbs down for Aksana being present.”

Carina flashes a thumbs up. Aksana has probably been through a lot today, she doesn’t need to live through it again just for her sake.

“Alrighty kiddo. As your sister told you, your mother and stepfather perished this morning in a gang-related incident. Did you see the smoky haze in the city this morning? That was the warehouse that was attacked.” Dawson takes a good look at Carina, they want to make sure they don’t overwhelm the poor kid. 

“When the fire was put out, investigators determined that there was a larger threat so we, the FBI, were called in. We found out that you and your sister were in need of a transfer of guardianship so we located your father and he agreed to take the both of you in. One of your brothers was in Chicago for a business trip and just so happened to stop in the city before he flew back to Italy. We were able to get ahold of him and he agreed to take you back with him. His security team is here to take you two to the airport so that you can leave for Italy ASAP. I’m sure you're both exhausted so this may be hard to understand right now.” 

“Brovers?” Carina’s shock was written all over her face. Even though the slurred words, Moore and Dawson could tell that she had no idea that she had a brother.

Moore sighed, “Kid, this is going to come as a shock to you, but you have 7 brothers. You’ll be staying with them at your father’s estate, at least for the time being. Your sister has our numbers in case you need anything and you can always call the American Embassy, they’ll be able to help you. Your brothers range from 30 years old to 17. In order from oldest to youngest, their names are; Viktor, Adrik, Santo, Vito, Luciano, Demitre, and Damyan. Now that I think about it, you have something in common with Santo and Vito, they’re twins too. Your father's name is Cesare Mezzasalma, founder and CEO of Apex Security.” The man places a steady hand on the teen’s shoulder in a silent gesture of solidarity. 

Carina stays silent but an unspoken question lingers in the air. What?

“When you and your sister were born, there was a tragic car accident. You, Aksana, and your mother perished after a drunk driver struck the vehicle transporting you from the hospital to your family’s estate. As it turns out, your mother faked her’s and you girls’ deaths in order to flee the country with her lover, Greg Bjorno. At this moment, it appears as though your mother did this to avoid the public backlash that was predicted should she divorce your father,” Dawson hesitates, their fingers twitching as they ponder whether to say the next piece of information, “She brought you, girls, with her because it was the most convenient cover story. We have reason to believe that your mother suffered from BPD and NPD. She loved you but was very insecure and tended to be defensive to an excess. Tell me, did you and your sister live in Harlem, alone, or did you live with your parents in Tribeca?” The kindly agent looks at Carina expectantly. 

Time seems to stop as images play through Carina’s mind. Her and her sister walking home from school. Their arms locked as they chatted about the day. Aksana’s long ponytail and Carina’s ballet bun reflect bits of twilight as they walk. The pair reaches a run-down but classy building in need of a new coat of paint. 

Aksana’s lightly tanned hand turns a gold knob on a dark green door that opens to cracked tiles and exposed brick. The twins climb three flights of stairs before reaching the top floor. At the end of the hallway is a mint green door with a brass handle. The paint is chipping slightly but there are tiny flowers painted all over it. Their apartment wasn’t much but it was home. The tiny kitchen was heavily worn with peeling linoleum floors. There was a little circular table next to a window that had two chairs and a vase of hand-made paper tiger lilies and baby’s breath. The bathroom counter was small and stocked full of Aksana’s makeup and perfumes. A pastel floral shower curtain and bathmat matched the pink and purple towels that were color coded for each girl. They even found a way to hang a little abstract painting in the room to make it look slightly better. 

There was no real living room due to a lack of space and funds so the girls had two desks in the room with mismatched chairs so that they at least had somewhere to study and pile their crap. 

Through a door on the other side of the kitchen and common space was the bedroom. Straight back from the door was Aksana’s bed tucked in the corner. In the corner to the right of the door was Carina’s bed. Both girls had twin beds with storage underneath. They’d hung floating shelves all over the room except for the far wall parallel to Aksana’s bed. Carina had saved up and worked extremely hard to purchase a little projector that the girls could use to watch TV together while sitting on the older twin’s bed. The girls had opted for twin beds so that there would be room for them to have a comfortable chair tucked in the remaining corner of the room, along with a fluffy rug. On the wall opposite the door, was a tall, thin window, centered in the room. The girls had hung some sheer white curtains and fairy lights to make a light curtain that shielded them from any prying eyes on the fire escape. There were no ceiling lights in the room so they hung LED lights to frame the perimeter of the room as well as glow-in-the-dark stars in an accurate star map. A little collection of handmade clay mushrooms decorated one of the shelves above Carina’s bed and polaroids of the girls together and with their friends were arranged above Aksana’s. While there was a distinction of items based on which bed they were around, it appeared as though the items were fair game for both girls. 

Tears prick Carina’s eyes at the thought of never seeing home again. Of never seeing the home that she and Aksana had made for themselves, albeit dingy and cramped with lousy neighbors and no security. Home was home and they would never see it again. She looks up into Agent Moore’s brown eyes before holding up a number two. 

The trio finishes their journey in a comfortable silence before Moore opens a heavy metal door. Inside the room is a metal table that’s been bolted to the floor along with four metal chairs. Inside the room are four men all dressed in black. Three of them wear complete suits complete with black ties and sunglasses, even though it’s nearly 4:00 am and they’re inside. The last man wears a full three-piece suit minus the jacket and has a white tie. His sunglasses are purple-tinted. Odd.

After some back and forth with Moore and Dawson, the agents step out of the room to stand by the door. The man turns to the girls with a soft grin, “Alright girly, you ready to go? One of my teams is at your apartment as we speak to pack a few essentials for you two so that you have something when we get home. Let’s go.”

His smile falters when Carina ignores him, moving to give Aksana a side hug. The girls clearly have no intention of moving any time soon, he didn’t want to but he decided this was the only way to handle the delicate situation.

“Come with us.” The leader of the four men orders. The twins look at each other skeptically. Carina, in her bruised-up glory, steps slightly in front of her sister, hands tensed at her sides. The man raises a brow over his sunglasses, “No need to get hostile Ms. Vilkov. We are not here to hurt you, but we will be taking you with us one way or another. Now, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Explain our options and where we’re going, and maybe. MAYBE. We’ll come with you. If you so much as touch a hair on her head, I’ll rip your face off.” Carina snarls, words slightly distorted by her injury. 

“The easy way is you come with us willingly. We will take you to Mr. Mezzasalma’s personal jet. From there we will fly to Genoa, Italy where you’ll be picked up by your brothers. They will take you home. The hard way is this; You resist, we subdue you, you wind up in Genoa, Italy, and you meet your brothers. Either way, you will be going to Italy, meeting your brothers, and coming home. Your father awaits your return.” The man stares, face neutral as if he didn't just casually describe kidnapping. 

Aksana grasps Carina’s hand, making the younger girl relax slightly. The younger twin lowers her left hand slightly with a silent exhale.

“Alright…You say we have brothers? Why aren’t they here? Why did they send a bunch of gangster wannabes instead of picking us up themselves? Also,” she fixes her confused eyes on the middle man with a white tie, “Did you say Italy?! We can’t just up and leave the country! We have..like homework!”

The group of men stifle snickers at the futile attempt at excuses. Carina looks each man up and down, assessing their threat level. Her eyes scan the group before landing on a stocky, tattooed man. He has purple-tinted sunglasses and she has definitely seen him somewhere. 

The man smirks as he watches the girl’s brow furrowed in confusion. She can’t quite place where she’s seen him but she definitely recognizes him. He steps forward with an outstretched hand, “The name is Nicholas Stone, call me Nix.”

“You…” Carina’s face scrunches further, eyes scanning his face for something to give away the reason she knows him, “You!”

“Me!” There it is. She’s figured it out.

“...Thanks. You saved my ass back there.” A pale hand reaches to run through her hair. Carina nods to Aksana while giving her hand a gentle squeeze. 

“You said Italy? How long will the flight be, if you don’t mind me asking Mr… uhm.. Nix?” Aksana’s fingers tap Carina’s hand rhythmically as she speaks up for the first time. 

The men note that, while nervous, the girls work to hide it. To the untrained eye, they would seem mostly unbothered. Nix raises his right hand to his earpiece.

“Alright kids, your brother, my boss, wants wheels up within the hour. It’ll take Nearly 40 minutes to get there, leaving us only 15 minutes of wiggle room. I’m glad you’re cautious but we do not have time for this.” Nix swishes his hands, shooing the girls toward the door. The two men standing outside the door nod to their boss and the agents as the group walks toward the building’s exit. 

Aksana drapes her arm around her sister’s shoulders. All the older twin wants right now is to talk to her sister in private. She clearly won the fight but her face is almost half covered in bandages! What the fuck happened? Who was she paired against?! Both girls are clearly stressed, hungry, and exhausted. 

Two black Lincoln Navigators pull up in front of the building. Nix opens the back door to one, helping Carina into the back row before Aksana joins her. Before he shuts the door, a man with red fingerless gloves walks up with two blankets. 

“Ah Knuckles, what’s up? You got the stuff right? Boss wants wheels up in,” Nix checks his watch, “47 minutes.”

Knuckles smiles as he reaches back to give the girls the blankets, “Yeah, I figured they may want these, it's fucking cold man. The poor kids are in shorts for fucks sake. These were on their beds, I assume they mean a lot and honestly, they’ve been through a hell of a day.” He hands a fleece tie blanket that has white music print on one side and a lilac fabric with pastel stars and basketballs to Carina. He frowns seeing her messed up face. “Damn kid, the fuck happened to you? When’s the last time you had any pain meds? Shit looks like it hurts!”

Nix slaps the 23-year-old man upside the head successfully spurring him to hand Aksana a fleece tie blanket with the same music side but a pale pink side with darker pink floral stems. The strong bro hands Nix a little bag to give to the girls on the plane, it holds gummy bears, jellybeans, deodorant, new toothbrushes and paste, a few hair ties, and their phone chargers. Nix claps Knuckles on the back before climbing into the front passenger seat. Knuckles moves to the other SUV while a pretty young man and another woman take seats in the same vehicle. Two men join SUV 1 in the row in front of the two overtired teens. 

As the Navigator starts the 40-minute journey to the airport Nix turns around to look at the girls. “Carina, Aksana, meet my friends, coworkers, and associates, Beck, Smokes, and Watchman. Beck and Watchman here were in the room with us when you were debriefed, Smokes was on the squad that went to your apartment to grab a few essentials. She was in charge of the team Knuckles was on when he got your blankets. Nice blankets by the way.”

Carina offers a little wave as Aksana greets the woman driving the SUV and the two men sitting in front of the two. 

Nix pulls out his phone to inform his boss that they’re on their way to the airport as the car falls into a comfortable silence. 

omg no it’s not weird at all! one direction mafia wattpad has raised me for this exact moment in time and space. I hope I did your request justice though bc I have NOT written anything like this ever teehee<3

heavily inspired by Lana Del Rey’s song “You can be the boss”

＊You can be the boss, daddy＊

dark content ahead! Minors DNI or levi will make you scrub all the windows clean

word count: 2k

pairings: Erwin Smith x female reader

CW: yandere behavior, use of alcohol, drugs, mentions of murder, gunplay, spitting, choking, cum eating, non-con filming, briefly tied up and drugged Erwin lolsies

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

It happened. Yes, you know, the thing that happens in every cliche. The mafia boss had his eye on you since the moment he first saw you on a college campus, working your ass off as a part-time barista. You didn’t even question why your rent lowered by 200€, nor how you passed classes you forgot you even attended. I mean, who would question that? Maybe a god has a liking for you. Yes, that’s exactly what this is.

The only bad thing about being a god’s favorite was the horrible luck in dating you had. Every single one of your partners or past flirts has gone missing and the only link between them is you. You’ve lost count of how many times you ended up a suspect at the police station, only for your criminal record to vanish and the chief of police to beg for your forgiveness.

Four years after he first laid his eyes upon you, now 23 and unsuspecting, you accepted the “boss’s” invitation for you and your friends to have fun in the VIP room. So there you are now, snorting coke off your friend’s bare stomach and leaning back your delicate body to meet a muscular chest.

“You okay there, darling?” A low voice whispered in your ear, irony coating it perfectly. Your revealing dress was riding up your thighs, leaving enough space for the man to rest his big, soft hands. Before the lines of coke and alcohol you consumed, you thought it was scary how many guns were in the room, but then again, maybe all club owners are like this?

That’s where you’re wrong sweetie. Nobody in the world compares to this one.