#mobfic

[pnwren]

hold me like a knife: ch. 1

macklin celebrini/will smith

His chain catches the light in the mirror, Saint Christopher glinting at his throat like he’s being watched. A reminder he never asked for. Will tucks it back under his collar.

[uceyprincess]

Kidnapped By Love - Series List

Summary: In a twist of fate, sisters Shadaysha and Dynastie are snatched from their ordinary lives on a seemingly routine day. Little did they know, the mastermind behind their abduction is someone they never expected. As secrets unravel and relationships are put to the ultimate test, Shadaysha finds herself drawn to an unexpected connection she can't resist. Discover a captivating story of family ties, unexpected love, and the power of the unknown in this gripping tale of suspense and transformation.

Character Info | Part 1: Not So Ordinary Day | Part 2: Questions & Very Little Answers | Part 3: A New Normal | Part 4: A New Normal II | Part 5: If It Isn't Love | Part 6: Love Ain't Supposed to Hurt | Part 7: Love Ain't Supposed to Hurt II | Part 8: Jacob's POV | Part 9: Nothin'' A Lil Tough Love Can't Fix | Part 10: New Beginnings | Part 11: Usual Suspects | Part 12: The Aftermath | Part 13: Healing Through Hurt | Part 14: Peace In A Storm | Part 15: Peace In A Storm II | Part 16: You Can Run But You Can't Hide |

[pnwren]

WIP Wednesday!

Okay, I know it's technically Thursday now, but whatever. I said I'd post another WIP, so here's a mobfic snippet. I SWEAR I'm making progress. Writing chapter 3 from Mack's POV has actually been so fun.

[pnwren]

hold me like a knife: ch. 2

macklin celebrini/will smith

Will tells himself he’s overthinking it. Then he tells himself that maybe he’s the only one thinking enough. These days he can’t tell the difference. Paranoia is stitched into the fabric of every thought, a constant itch at the base of his skull that never settles.

[pnwren]

obsessed with the mob fic and dying for an update!! wondering if you have a little spoiler to share of chapter 2 but absolutely no pressure. just dying to read more! <3

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. Chapter 2 is still a work in progress, but here's a tiny sneak peak 👀

Will glances toward the bar and his drink stalls halfway to his mouth. No fucking way.

It’s that guy. The one from the diner. Mack?

He’s propped against the counter, half-turned toward the room, one knee bent, posture loose. A glass rests in his hand, dark liquor sloshing when he moves. It looks out of place somehow. Will doubts he’s even twenty-one, and usually he wouldn’t care. College kids with fakes slip in all the time and it keeps The Tank looking busy, pads the register, but tonight all he sees are liabilities and weak spots.

The bar lights wash over Mack as he brings the glass to his lips, gilding his jaw and the pale stretch of his throat. His jeans are tight enough that Will’s mouth goes dry, denim pulled over strong thighs and an ass that would get attention anywhere. He’s not wearing a jacket, and if he brought one, it’s nowhere in sight. In this weather? Either he ditched it or he couldn’t be bothered, and neither option sits right with Will. 

The white shirt Mack has on clings to his shoulders, thin enough that when he turns Will catches the faint outline of his nipples through the fabric. Hair falls into his eyes until he brushes it back, veins stark across the back of his hand even from across the room. 

Will shouldn’t be clocking every detail, but he is. Worse, other people probably are too. What the fuck is Mack doing in a place like this anyway? He should be at some college dive, pounding bottom-shelf vodka with a bunch of kids stupid enough to think they’re immune to hangovers.

That’s when Will notices a guy sidle up to the bar, hand slipping to the small of Mack’s back as he leans in to say something. Older than Mack, closer to Will’s age, mid-twenties with a tailored suit and hair shellacked into place. The kind of guy who carries a trail of cologne and thinks he’s hot shit. Will knows the type.

Mack gives a small, dismissive smile and a slight shake of his head. He shifts back just enough to draw a boundary, a quiet but unmistakable thanks but no thanks. Nothing in his posture reads as flustered or cornered. He looks like he can handle himself just fine. He probably doesn’t need anyone stepping in, especially not someone like Will.

Even so, Will’s body goes rigid. That jolt of alertness snaps into place, just like it did at the diner. Will barely knows this kid. He shouldn’t even care.

Gabe says something beside him, but it’s all background noise, the words sliding right past Will without sticking. His focus stays locked on the stranger’s hand, on the inch of space Mack carved out, the quick flare of heat under his own skin.

[pnwren]

" That glorious feeling when you finally hit your stride and your brain opens up and you can once again get all the words in your head onto the page in a tangible way. 😭 "

I am so so so happy about this 🥹 any chance after the other 2 stories are update the mobfic gets a turn? 👉👈

Yes, absolutely!

@artisanjelly and I have been talking about the mobfic over the past few days and I’ve never been more motivated to keep writing. Honestly, whatever update comes next is thanks to them. I’ve made some changes to my original plan for that fic and I’m really eager to share the next chapter. Also I’m excited to introduce some bedmint into this universe 👀

That’s all I’ll say for now. But I haven’t abandoned it and an update is coming!

[pnwren]

wip word guessing game!!

soft

The room narrows with every name Will says. Too many debts, too many grudges, too many deals left open. He needs people who won’t fold, muscle he can count on to keep things moving while supply lasts. They can’t afford to stall, not now, not with Warso waiting for a crack to crawl through.

“Fuck,” Leno spits out, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Can we trust any of these guys?” Gabe asks, voice soft, the kind of softness that comes from knowing when to tread lightly.

And that’s the fucking question, isn’t it?

A sound tears out of Will’s throat, hollow and humorless, closer to a bark than a laugh. It cuts through the air and dies before it can turn into something worse.

[pnwren]

Word for the wip thingy: hurt

P.s. do you have any idea when you'll post the first part of the mobfic? No pressure, just very excited <3

Will’s words hang in the air, blunt enough to make Leno flinch. 

Sweat darkens Leno’s shirt, beads running down his neck, soaking the fabric. His good eye flicks between Will and Gabe, never settling. The other twitches faintly. It must hurt, but Will can’t bring himself to care.

Leno swallows hard. “They said it’s a matter of time.” Each word comes out tight, forced past his teeth. “Said now that Bill’s dead, they own us. Told Cat to get on her fucking knees—”

Will stands fast enough to send his chair skidding back. He grabs it, lifts it over his head, and hurls it at the wall. The drywall caves easily, dust spilling down as the chair clatters across the room.

--

So happy you're excited for this fic! My goal is to post it to ao3 by this weekend. 🤞