GULP. WHOS REBLOGGING THIS POST GUYS?! GUYS! WHOS REBLOGGING THIS.. WE REALLY NEED TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF WHOS REBLOGGING BRAT TAMINF GABRIEL.. GUYS..! GUYS!!
Thinking about noncon as punishment with Mafisoso, maybe even potential babytrapping. Can you make a drabble on that maybe? Like the reader is sobbing trying to desperately apologize as they are brought to Mafioso after attempting to escape.
"Eat my body from the bottom to the top."
Dealer! Mafioso (Forsaken) x Subordinate! Reader
Content Warning(s) : NSFW, Non-Con, AFAB Reader, Mention of Drugs, Slight Yandere Elements, Babytrapping, Somnophila, Gags, Use of Condoms (Not), 3.6k Words
You don’t know what you thought was going to happen. Sure, you were hopeful that they wouldn’t find you, but even then you knew it was just wishful thinking.
You and Mafioso had a good thing going. He would supply you with ‘packages’ and you would drop them off where he asked, collecting some money on the way.
To him, you were the ideal dealer. You had few connections, no parents in contact, and barely any friends to speak of — for all intents and purposes, you were a nobody. Even better, you were loyal and did your job well, never failing him or his orders, not once.
That is, of course, until curiosity took the better of you, and you couldn’t help but test out the product people were willing to spend thousands on, snorting away not just his money, but the trust he had in you.
And you were going to pay for it — one way or another.
You knew that. You knew that eventually, the mafia boss was going to find you and take back what you owed. So you ran. You ran faster than you ever had in your life and prayed to every god you knew that he wouldn’t find you.
But after working under the man for so long, you knew that no amount of divine protection could save you from your fate, and that you’d be caught and captured and brought right back to the very person you were trying to escape.
They found you faster than you expected. For weeks you survived off what little money you could scrape up and driven by a drug-fueled high. You were no match against them, not when your body was running on nothing but adrenaline and dopamine.
Your kicking and screaming proved futile, only serving to annoy the goons as they held you down. If it weren’t for their direct orders not to kill you, they would’ve knocked you out and dragged your unconscious body back to their boss.
Of course, you didn’t know that — and his order said nothing of hurting you. It was easy to get you compliant, a punch to the gut and an empty threat was enough to get you to shut up, hoping that if you were obedient, you’d have a chance to beg for your life before they eventually killed you.
That hope died once you were brought to the mafia boss, forced down on your knees and an invasive hand tugging at the back of your head, stinging your scalp and straining your neck as they forced you to look up.
Blunt pain shot through you as your knees met the cold marble floor. Their grips left bruises on your skin, limbs twisting in a way that promised to ache later. You had half the mind to kick them off of you.
You didn’t have to look up to know who you were kneeling too, his intimidating aura familiar yet foreign, filling your entire being with a sense of wrongness. It made sense, you spent years working under the man, yet for the first time since your allegiance, that cruel demeanor was directed at you.
“Tell me,” he spoke, voice commanding attention and respect, “Why did you do it? After everything we had as well,” he said with a tinge of reminiscence, a harsh reminder that everything happening now was your fault.
Despite the question, you struggled to find an answer. “I-,” you started, words failing on release. “I’m . . I’m sorry.”
He sucked his teeth, clearly unimpressed with your answer. “Is that all you have to say for yourself? I asked you a question. You’re supposed to answer it.”
You tried to swallow your fear but your mouth was too dry, tongue clinging to the roof of your mouth as you tried to look anywhere but his face. Apologies spilled from your mouth, trembling as you spoke, even you thought you sounded pitiful.
The silence was unbearable, each beat filling you with more despair. His sigh was heavy, hand raising in a way you had seen multiple times before. You knew that signal. It was a way for him to show he was done, a silent order to his goons to take you away.
Panic flooded you, and suddenly words spewed from you like vomit, uncontrollable and desperate. “I-I’ll do anything to repay you! I mean it! Anything - anything at all!”
Mafioso’s hand paused, half-raised in the air, unmoving as he took your words into consideration. “Anything?” He repeated.
Your eyes widened as you saw your chance at survival. “Yesyes - anything! I’ll sell twice the amount, I’ll never do it again, I swear it just please - give me a second chance!” Your voice grew higher in pitch as desperation took over.
He hummed, eyes flickering from your manic face and shaking body. “Go,” he ordered, “Bring her to my room.” He wasn’t speaking to you, but to the men around you.
You yelped as a bag was forced over your head, their fingers dug into your skin, lifting you up like you weighed nothing and dragging you away from the man, his eyes boring into you.
While you did try to fight, a simple twist of your wrist was enough to remind you of how you got here in the first place. Instead, you tried to count the seconds until they got to the room, hoping to use it if you got the chance to escape.
Though it barely helped. By the time you heard the click of the door, you had already lost count, whatever count you did have knocked out of you when you were thrown harshly onto what felt like a soft mattress.
You waited until their footsteps faded before sitting up, wincing as the bruises on your stomach ached. Though you could hardly bring yourself too care, faced with a much more important issue.
Mafioso decided to give you a chance at redemption — and while in any other circumstance you’d be happy, you knew that in the mafia, there was no such thing as unconditional offers.
Your imagination ran rampant with the lack of visual, head pounding as you tried to predict what he had planned for you.
Was he going to kill you? Make you humiliate yourself for his entertainment? Torture you until he was satisfied? Though through all the questions, one forced its way to the forefront of your mind — Why did he take you to his room?
Realistically, he had no reason to bring you here. In all your time under him, never had he ever ordered someone be brought here not until —
Your thoughts were interrupted by the rattling of the doorknob and the obnoxiously loud creak of the door.
Naturally, your head followed the sound, body frozen in fear as you swore the room temperature dropped.
Heavy footsteps approached you, pain pricking your scalp as large hands grabbed the bag on your head and yanked it off, pulling a few strands along with it.
“Ow-!” You cried, though it was cut short by fabric being shoved between your teeth, the sudden action almost making you choke. Experienced fingers tied the cloth to the back of your head before you could react.
You tried to talk, but it came out as muffled blabbering. The gag wicked away the little moisture you had in your mouth, leaving each swallow dry and painful.
“Y’know,” Mafioso started, his hand trailing from the back of your neck to your cheek, “We had such a good thing going.” His thumb rubbed tenderly at the warm skin, “And you just had to ruin that, didn’t you?”
His fingers dug into your chin, pulling you closer to his face. You could smell the smoke from his breath. He turned your face to the side as if inspecting you.
“But that’s okay,” he assured, voice chillingly calm despite the rough grip he had on you, “I have a different purpose for you.”
You weren’t given the luxury of asking what he meant before he let go of you, only to tug roughly at your raggy shirt until it tore.
Cold air hit your now bare chest, alarm and panic shooting through you as your legs kicked, wriggling away from him the best you could with your arms bound.
It was futile, you had spent months living off nothing, while Mafioso was still in his prime. His hands wrapped around your ankles, dragging you back to him and pulling you under him, pinning you in place using the weight of his hips.
“Don’t try to run.” You could hear the warning in his voice, the words enough to disarm you. Your body froze up again, muscles tensing.
He seemed satisfied at your fearful expression, reveling in the way you seemed to beg for mercy despite not being able to speak.
You tried to stay stock still as his hands wandered your body, inspecting you like you were an object. Though it was hard to suppress the shiver than ran through you when his fingers pinched at your nipple, sending a shock of pain through your system.
The cloth muffled your yelp, your body jolting in his hold. Your eyes flickered to his face in search of irritation, but you were surprised to see there was none, just a fragile smirk and unreadable eyes.
His hands trailed lower, dragging along your ticklish sides and hooking themselves on the waistband of your pants, barely giving you a chance to mumble out a protest before yanking them down, leaving them hanging at your ankles.
Your arm strained as you fought against the restraints, trying and failing to cover your now exposed sex.
He shushed you, fingers rubbing gingerly at your thighs and kneading the soft flesh. “It won’t take long,” he whispered. You weren’t sure if it was supposed to be a threat or reassurance.
You shook your head against the sheets, limbs twitching as you swallowed down your instincts, trying your best to not run away.
You spent enough of your life in the underworld to know what he had planned for you, his eyes slitted in desire.
This was far from the first time you had been threatened like this, but even then you couldn’t bring yourself to fight back, not sure if saving your dignity was worth risking your life.
“Mmmffgg-,” your words reached empty ears, meaning dying in the back of your throat.
“I really did like you, y’know.” Mafioso said as he tossed your clothes to the side, “You should consider yourself lucky for that.”
You sobbed into the gag, eyes clenching shut as tears pricked at the corners. His hands retreated from your body. You didn't feel any relief from it, not when the rustling of fabric and sounds of metal buckles revealed his true intention.
He sucked his teeth at your crying, warm hands caressing your cheeks and wiping off the warm liquid.
He didn’t lean in to you or pull you closer, instead, his eyes were locked on the pitiful state of your body. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, speaking more to himself, “It’s been months since I last saw you. I don’t know where you’ve been.”
The bed lifted as he backed away from you and for a second, you could finally breathe again.
You thought he had changed his mind, that the filth that clung to your body was enough to scare him away from fucking you.
Of course, he was quick to correct that thought. The sound of plastic ripping echoed throughout the room and you could hear him groan, damned curiosity getting the better of you as you cracked open your eyes to turn to him.
Barely a few feet away, Mafioso held his cock in his hands, the length covered in shining rubber.
He must’ve felt your gaze, his head snapping up to look at you, confusion evident on your face. He didn’t bother to explain, rather taking his position back between your legs.
“Don’t worry about it,” he hushed.
Taking your twitching limbs, he pressed your legs close to your chest. Your joints ached from the stretch and if it weren’t for him holding you down, it would’ve straightened back out.
You felt the chill room air brush against your sex, sending a shiver down your spine. Even if you tried to fight back, you knew he would just hold you down, the firm grip around your thighs evidence of such.
Pure, unbridled terror permeated through you as he slapped the head of his cock against your dry pussy. You could feel your heart race, the beats louder than your own breathing.
“Mmffh-!” You tried to scream.
His eyes looked away from your body for a second, just enough to see the fear in your eyes. “I know baby,” he said as he shook his head.
You could hear him collect saliva in his mouth before it hit your skin, cold and wet.
With his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he used the tip to rub the spit into you, not enough to fully lubricate you, but enough to let him slide his head against your clit.
You hated the way your body refused to listen to you and the way biology kicked in, slick collecting at your hole. You hated the way pleasure reared its ugly head, warmth spreading through your nervous system and replacing your anxious shaking with subdued trembling.
“There you go,” he cooed, tone disgustingly sweet. Despite the way sickness swirled in your stomach, part of you leapt at his voice.
It resembled the way he would talk to you before all of this — back when he was your friendly boss and you were his favored subordinate. Your heart ached, gaze no longer avoiding him and locked on his face as you desperately searched for what once was.
But that fondness he once held for you was nowhere to be seen, at least, not in the innocent way you grew to love. For the first time since you had met him, his fedora was off, the dim light illuminating his face just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes.
It wasn’t the vibrant color that caught you off guard — but the intense besotted emotion that surrounded his dilated pupils.
He looked . . mad. Paired with his manic smile, it was the type of expression you associated with insanity.
A pit formed in your stomach underneath battered skin and bruised ribs. A sense of clarity came over you. There was no escaping him. Not when you were so deeply tangled in his web.
You had no time to wallow in your despair, not as pain shot through your lower half, the blunt head of his cock pressing into your barely-slick hole.
Panic made you clamp around him, making him let out a deep groan through clenched teeth. Though it did nothing to stop him, his hips remained determined to push into you, no matter how tight you were.
The cloth muffled your yelps, but with the amount of drool soaked into the fabric, it barely did anything.
“H-huurrshhs-,” you slurred, almost choking on your spit.
Mafioso’s hands kneaded at your skin, “I know, I know.” His voice was so soft you’d think he was talking to a lover, “It’ll pass. I’ll make this fast, okay?.”
Despite his words, he didn’t give you a chance to adjust, hips snapping against yours with enough force to shake the bed beneath you.
Your legs kicked out, if it weren’t for the gag, you would’ve bitten down on your tongue. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry, every part of your brain hyper-focused on the pain shooting through you.
The mafia boss was silent aside from a few grunts, his hands grabbing at your legs and pinning them back down, ignoring the way your joints resisted the unnatural movement.
He leaned his weight onto you, pushing you into the mattress and digging his cock deep inside your pussy, groaning at how tight you were around him.
Your walls burned as he forced himself inside of you, almost passing out from the sheer amount of pain you were in.
He bottomed out, his pelvis flush against yours as his balls slapped against your ass. He was so large you were sure even if he did properly prepare you, you would’ve struggled to take him.
On instinct your body tried to push out the intrusion, clenching around him even tighter. He threw his head back in pleasure, thrusts slowing but not stopping as he fucked you through it.
You were wailing now, the thin cloth barely containing your crying.
“I’m sorry my love,” he whispered, though there was no true remorse in his tone. “You left me with no other option.”
Mafioso grit his teeth, the grip on your legs tightening as he put more force into fucking you, chasing his release.
The bedframe creaked under the pressure, each thrust knocking the breath out of your lungs and chasing away any thoughts of resisting.
Your body seized up before giving in, left with no other choice but to just take it and pray it ends.
Even as your pussy adjusted to his size, the stretch left a lasting ache, the pain never truly fading.
At least he was true to his words. His selfish pursuit of pleasure made his orgasm come quick. It didn’t take long for him to clench his jaw, pressing his cock as deep as he could and leaning forward before releasing, almost crushing you with his weight.
You could feel his cock twitch inside of you as warm cum spurt from his tip. Your only comfort was that he had a condom on, and even that did nothing to lessen how violated you felt, skin pricking with disgust.
His chest heaved as he held you down, smoke-laced breath fanning your face and making you cough. At least it was over now, you thought, half delirious with pain.
But the world was rarely so kind to you.
You forced yourself to relax, letting your limbs fall as he leaned back and pulled out of you, the drag of his cock along your walls almost excruciating. Your legs were thankful to be out of the demanding position, hips and knees aching.
Exhaustion came over you, pain blooming on every inch of your body, breathing ragged and each exhale painful. ‘Sleep’, you begged yourself, ‘sleep and take me anywhere but here.’
With your purity and dignity stripped from you, you accepted unconsciousness with welcome arms, almost thankful for the distraction from your hopeless situation.
By the time Mafioso turned back to you, you were already out, deep into your only way of escape.
Even then, you were far from safe. Wordlessly, he rolled the condom off of his cock, groaning in the effort and hissing as cold air hit the now wet length. It felt so much better inside of you, surrounded by warmth and nestled perfectly inside your walls.
He almost felt bad for not getting you off, but after everything you cost him, he could hardly care.
He pinched the still-slick rubber between his fingers, his cum pooling inside of it like a gel pill.
Normally, he would’ve tied it up and tossed it away. Normally, he would’ve tossed you away.
Mafioso knew the risks of taking you back after you turned your back on him. But even then he couldn’t bring himself to part from you.
The truth was, he didn’t hate you for taking his drugs — but for trying so desperately to leave him, disappearing without a trace without so much of a goodbye.
His eyes flickered back to your sleeping form, a sick thought raising in the back of his mind, too loud to ignore.
You looked better like this, he decided — peaceful, safe, in his possession. The solution was so obvious now that he had thought of it, so perfect he almost beat himself up for not coming up with it sooner.
The bag of semen was suddenly a lot heavier in his hands, arms dropping to your sprawled out body.
He pushed your legs over slightly, revealing your pussy to him, the slit covered with a thin layer of blood.
The sight made him hiss, almost guilty for hurting you. He brought the still open condom to your pussy, flipping it over and dumping the contents onto you.
His eyes were fixated on the rise and fall of your chest, watching as you didn’t react. The opaque white cum slid your skin before he collected it on his fingers and fucked it back into you, the liquid acting as lube.
He made sure to get as much of it into you as possible, squeezing the rest of it directly onto your hole before tossing the now empty condom to the floor.
You were much looser now, and the mix of sperm and blood turned into a soft pink. He couldn’t help the way his cock stirred at the sight of your defenseless face, your walls accepting his finger much more kindly now that you were asleep.
He swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing as he brought his cock back to your pussy. Surely you wouldn’t mind, right? It’s not like it would’ve saved you, not when he was already making sure his cum coated your walls.
This time, he would make sure his seed took. After all, he had spent so long finding you — he couldn’t afford to lose you again.
This time, he’ll make sure to take care of you. You didn’t need to sell anything anymore, hell, you wouldn’t even have to leave the house.
He couldn’t believe it took him so long to realize that you weren’t fit for your previous position. No, he knew your true purpose now.
You had proved yourself unable to be his minion — but that's okay. Mafioso was sure that you would be able to prove yourself as a mother instead.
A/N : sorry this sucks this is why u dont write smut when u arent horny LMAO. anyways song is mister machoman also took inspo from these asks oka bai
yandere! Mafioso who insists on taking care of you, making sure you never have to lift a finger. you’re his possession, and if there’s one thing he’s learned from his profession, its how to take care of his toys.
yandere! Mafioso who does everything for you, from bathing to eating to dressing up — all of it is under his control, his dictation.
yandere! Mafioso who makes sure you’re in your best form, free of disease, healthy and clean, untouched by the filth of the outside world.
yandere! Mafioso who treats you like a doll; his to treasure and worship - his to play and praise. he takes it upon himself to groom you, to make sure you’re nothing short of perfect for him.
yandere! Mafioso who holds a knife dangerously close to your body, one that has punctured the skin of his enemies. there’s a threat in his action, a silent warning to not close the thin line of ally and antagonist.
yandere! Mafioso who uses his knife to shave off the peach fuzz on your skin, dragging it along your legs, up your arms, and pressing it close to your neck — punching in his ownership of you, his complete and utter control of you and you’re body.
