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hp-hcs · 1 year ago

Text

not requested, but i've been working on this for a while, and i'm actually quite pleased with how it turned out. i've never written in this style before, but it was actually really fun. hopefully its comprehensible, to some degree 🤷‍♂️

June — riddle brothers & gn! flint! reader

“Collected documents” style of writing.

Basically the boyos are just having a hell of a month

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[Meeting of the "Junior Death Eaters", June 12th, 1997, 18:23, Malfoy Manor, as transcribed in verbatim by CARROW, Alecto.]

PARTIES IN ATTENDANCE:

BERKSHIRE, Lorenzo

CARROW, Alecto

CRABBE, Vincent

FLINT, Y/N

GOYLE, Gregory Jr.

MALFOY, Draco

MALFOY, Narcissa

NOTT, Theodore Jr.

PARKINSON, Pansy

RIDDLE, Mattheo

RIDDLE, Thomas III

VOLDEMORT, Lord

ZABINI, Blaise

ABSENT:

BULSTRODE, Millicent [Deserter]

FLINT, Marcus [PKIA]

WARRINGTON, Cassius [On Assignment]

[Audio recording begins.]

[Silence, approx. 0:07]

VOLDEMORT: I apologize for the… unanticipated loss of your father, Crabbe.

CRABBE: Tha- thank you, uh, my Lord.

VOLDEMORT: Accidents do happen, of course. Losses are an ineluctable part of war. Now then, moving on.

[CRABBE slouches]

VOLDEMORT: You all must be… curious as to why I’ve called this… unscheduled meeting. I received a… rather rude letter from Mr. Harry Potter himself.

[Crosstalk, unintelligible for approx. 0:12]

MALFOY, N.: Silence, children. My- my Lord, please. Go ahead.

VOLDEMORT: Thank you, Narcissa. As I was saying… [paper crinkling] this letter is clearly encoded. Who believes themselves capable of decoding this? Do so, and I may… reward you with a chance to move up in my ranks.

[Crosstalk, clamor for approx. 0:21]

VOLDEMORT: Silence! Y/N, do you believe yourself capable?

[NOTT and RIDDLE, M. whisper, indistinct for approx. 0:02]

FLINT: Yes, my Lord.

VOLDEMORT: Very well. Next order of busin- [interrupted by the arrival of PETTIGREW, Peter]

PETTIGREW: M-my Lord- Severus wishes to s-speak with you.

[VOLDEMORT stands]

VOLDEMORT: Meeting adjourned. Narcissa, with me. Pettigrew, report.

[Unintelligible for approx. 0:06 as VOLDEMORT, MALFOY, N., and PETTIGREW leave]

[Silence for approx. 0:38]

CARROW: Are there any questions?

[All parties shake their heads]

CARROW: Alrighty then. You all know your assignments… Power to those who aid the Dark Lord and stand in his good stead.

ALL “Junior Death Eaters”: So mote it be.

[Transcript ends.]

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇

𝒲𝒾��𝓉𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝑒, 𝐸𝓃𝑔𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹

𝟣𝟣 𝒥𝓊𝓃𝑒, 𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟩

– 𝒽𝑒𝓎, 𝒪𝓁𝒹 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟!

𝓂𝓇. 𝒟𝒜𝓇𝓀 𝓁𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒮𝒾𝓇, 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀, 𝒾’𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝑅𝐼𝓉𝓉𝐸𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝐿𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒜𝓈𝓀 𝐼𝒻 𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒾𝒩𝑔 𝓊𝓅 𝒜𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇. 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝒯 𝓎𝑜𝒰 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒? 𝒾 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃, 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃. 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒢𝒾𝓉𝓈, 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝐿𝓁𝓎. 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒷𝓃𝑜𝓍𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒽-𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓊𝓂𝓃𝒮 𝑜𝒩 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑅𝑜𝒩𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓊𝐿𝒪𝓊𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒮𝒾𝑜𝒩. 𝒾 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓂𝒶𝓃.

𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜,

𝒽𝒫

𝒪𝒽, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎: 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓁𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝑔𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑒 ‘𝓋𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓉’ 𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹. 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝒾 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒

𝑀𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇

𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓉𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝑒, 𝐸𝓃𝑔𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹

𝟣𝟣 𝒥𝓊𝓃𝑒, 𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟩

– 𝒽𝑒𝓎, 𝒪𝓁𝒹 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟!

𝓂𝓇. 𝒟𝒜𝓇𝓀 𝓁𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒮𝒾𝓇, 𝐿𝑜𝑜𝓀, 𝒾’𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝑅𝐼𝓉𝓉𝐸𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒜𝓈𝓀 𝐼𝒻 𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒸𝓀𝒾𝒩𝑔 𝓊𝓅 𝒜𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓇. 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝒯 𝓎𝑜𝒰 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒? 𝒾 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃, 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃. 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒢𝒾𝓉𝓈, 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝐿𝓁𝓎. 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒷𝓃𝑜𝓍𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒽-𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓊𝓂𝓃𝒮 𝑜𝒩 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝑅𝑜𝒩𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒾𝒸𝓊𝐿𝒪𝓊𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒮𝒾𝑜𝒩. 𝒾 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝓂𝒶𝓃.

𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜,

𝒽𝒫

o, friend, da, s, l, ri, e, a, i, y, n, a, d, t, u, r, g, l, k, column, s, n, r, n, lo, s, n, p, o

columnar code maybe?

3 6 4 2 5 1

f r i e n d

y o u r s o

n s r i n d

a n g e r a

d p l a n s

t o k i l l

your sons r in danger a d plans to kill

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

My Lord,

Enclosed is the letter we discussed earlier. I would recommend you take action immediately.

Regards,

Y/N Flint

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

American Airlines BOARDING PASS

PASSENGER NAME:

FLINT / Y/N

FROM:

LONDON

TO: DATE: DEPARTS:

NEW YORK 13JUN 0415 AM

GATE BOARDING TIME SEAT

𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝟑 B12 0345 AM 27E

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

American Airlines BOARDING PASS

PASSENGER NAME:

RIDDLE / THOMAS

FROM:

LONDON

TO: DATE: DEPARTS:

NEW YORK 13JUN 0415 AM

GATE BOARDING TIME SEAT

𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝟑 B12 0345 AM 27D

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

American Airlines BOARDING PASS

PASSENGER NAME:

RIDDLE / MATTHEO

FROM:

LONDON

TO: DATE: DEPARTS:

NEW YORK 13JUN 0415 AM

GATE BOARDING TIME SEAT

𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝟑 B12 0345 AM 27F

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

Passport 𝘗𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵

Surname/Nom (1)

FLINT

Given names/Prénoms (2)

Y/N

Nationality/Nationalité (3)

BRITISH CITIZEN

Date of birth/Date de naissance (4) Children/Enfants (5)

11 MAR /MARS 80 0

Sex/Sexe (6) Place of birth/Lieu de naissance (7)

X EXETER

Date of issue/Date de délivrance (8) Authority/Autorité (9)

06 APR /AVR 95 UNITED KINGDOM

Date of expiry/Date d’expiration (10)

05 APR /AVR 05

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

Passport 𝘗𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵

Surname/Nom (1)

RIDDLE III

Given names/Prénoms (2)

THOMAS

Nationality/Nationalité (3)

BRITISH CITIZEN

Date of birth/Date de naissance (4) Children/Enfants (5)

31 DEC /DEC 78 0

Sex/Sexe (6) Place of birth/Lieu de naissance (7)

M LITTLE HANGLETON

Date of issue/Date de délivrance (8) Authority/Autorité (9)

31 JUL /JUIL 91 UNITED KINGDOM

Date of expiry/Date d’expiration (10)

30 JUL /JUIL 01

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

Passport 𝘗𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵

Surname/Nom (1)

RIDDLE

Given names/Prénoms (2)

MATTHEO

Nationality/Nationalité (3)

BRITISH CITIZEN

Date of birth/Date de naissance (4) Children/Enfants (5)

29 DEC /DEC 79 0

Sex/Sexe (6) Place of birth/Lieu de naissance (7)

M LEEDS

Date of issue/Date de délivrance (8) Authority/Autorité (9)

01 AUG /AOUT 91 UNITED KINGDOM

Date of expiry/Date d’expiration (10)

31 JUL /JUIL 01

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

PERIODIC TENANCY AGREEMENT

THIS LEASE AGREEMENT made effective the 14th day of 𝒥𝓊𝓃𝑒, 1997

between

𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓈

(the “Landlord”)

and

𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒

(the “Tenant”)

WHEREAS the Landlord owns the property located at 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓌 𝒜𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈, 𝟣𝟣𝟤𝟩 𝒲. 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓃 𝒮𝓉., 𝒜𝓅𝓉. 𝟤𝟢𝟥𝐻 (“the Premises”), and the Tenant wishes to rent the Premises from the Landlord for a periodic term. The Landlord does hereby lease to the Tenant the Premises “as is” for a primary term of one month commencing on the 16th day of 𝒥𝓊𝓃𝑒.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

7-ELEVEᑎ

131 20TH AVE

NEW YORK NY 20851

STORE #: 518

2 MARLBORO RED ‘25 13.40T

1 CHERRY DR PEPPER 2.75T

2 HARIBO GOLDBEARS 3.98T

1 FOLDING POCKET KNIFE 7.99T

SUBTOTAL 28.12

TAX 1.68

TOTAL DUE 29.80

VISA 29.80

*** TRANSACTION APPROVED ***

THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING WITH US!

T#58 0P18 TRN4617 06/14/1997 22:56:51

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

𝐹𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈,

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓀𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓌! 𝑀𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝓊𝓈𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓃𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝒷𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 (𝟤𝟢𝟦𝐻) 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝓉𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝓃𝓃𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓃𝓉. 𝐼 𝓇𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒴/𝒩 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝓊𝒷𝒷𝓎, 𝒟𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒹, 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝑒. 𝐻𝑜𝓅𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎’𝓇𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹!

– 𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃 & 𝒟𝒶𝓋𝒾𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝑜𝓉𝓉

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Cousins –

I regret to inform you both that Grandfather Al has sadly passed as of yesterday. If at all possible, we’d much appreciate your presence back home in London for the funerary services. Sending you my condolences.

Regards,

D.M.

#harry potter #fuck jkr #hp #x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheoxreader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x male reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #gn reader

165 notes · View notes

last-starry-sky · 6 months ago

Note

KATE the way you left it! I’ll be honest. He can watch us have the most sensual, passionate kiss and go down on each other but if he touches her, I’d explode with jealousy. I’m a hypocrite 💀 does asshole Simon just want to get back at us and make us jealous in a threesome?? (thank you for your lovely writing 💕)

*rubs my greedy hands together like a bug* oooooh boy :)

ghost/bi!reader/f!oc (no name used, so she can be read as another reader insert but w/e)

[MDNI - NSFW: 4.2k, weird jealous simon being a creep , pet-names, oral, slight dub-con elements but both girls just roll with it so ymmv, forced m/f/f threesome, dirty talk, light d/s elements, Simon and oc talk you through it, unprotected piv, cumming on the outside, hand-job, implied cum eating. ]

thank u btw! sorry this took almost a month! i really wanted to give this a good part 2!

You don’t know what made you want to sink directly into the concrete more: Simon staring at you, leaning one arm cooly out the window, eyes hard and disappointed as they sweep once up your form taking in your short shorts and skin-tight tank top. His jaw is clenched so hard you think he’s going to crack a tooth. It makes you want to cry, beg, run toward him and explain it’s all a mistake. That you didn’t mean it. It’s not what it looks like.

Or, the terrible pit that opens in your stomach as his eyes drift ever so subtly to the women curled around your back. Her hands grab at your thighs, vining up to your waist, before giggling in your ear as she hugged your chest and rest her head on your shoulder. There’s a glint in Simon’s flint-hard eye, a softness to his lips that he tried to hide with a cough and stubborn turn of his head, but you saw it. You almost wish you didn’t. Maybe it was just the way she swayed her hips behind you, dress glittering in the streetlight.

“Sooooo,” she said leaning hard on her words, sounding more drunk than she actually was, “this is your guy?”

Simon’s fingers drummed against the side of the door as his dark eyes were turned back at you, staring through his brow. There was not a hint of impatience in the action.

“Yeah,” you answered turning your head to the woman behind you, wary of breaking eye contact with Simon. “Kinda. We-”

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “just so you know, my offer stands.” She hugged you closer before whispering in your ear. “Do you need me to get you out of here?”

You shook your head. You didn’t think Simon would hurt you, or her, but you hated for a great evening to be ruined.

“Oi!” Simon called out, lightly smacking the outside of the car door to get your attention. “Not waiting all night like a bloody taxi. Get in.” Then, after a long moment looking the pair of you over, tacked on, “Both ‘f you.”

“You don’t-” you tried to tell the woman behind you, but she was already twining her arm around yours, leading you to your car.

She gave Simon a smug, celebratory smile as she bounced past him, dress shimmying alluringly around her body as she hauled you behind her. She turned to you as she opened the door, letting go of your hand and pulling you in by the small of your back for a quick kiss. You could feel Simon’s hot stare on you as she lingered on your lips for just a bit too long.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said before ducking into the car.

You followed quickly behind her. Simon had the drivers seat pulled all the way back to fit his long legs, so you squished into the middle seat, close to your new “friend”.

“Cuddle up, baby,” she giggled, pulling your legs into her lap. “Plenty of room.”

You heard Simon grunt out an exasperated noise as he jerked the car back out into the lane, swerving angrily around the smokers loitering outside the club. Your heart pounded as he sped down the dark, busy road, zipping in between cars with little concern as to how much he was throwing the two of you around in the backseat.

“Okay?” she whispered as held you, soothingly stroking her hands down your back as you rocked to and fro until you relaxed into her shoulder.

You nodded, lifting up your head to hug her. She sighed as your cheeks pressed together, hands drifting to your hips, letting her fingers trace the frayed hem of your shorts. She smelled so good. She must have dabbed a bit of perfume behind her ears, because your nose lit up with the bright, spicy scent of oranges. You turned your lips to her cheek, inhaling it, and she moaned a rough “oh”, hands curling into the skin of your thigh.

You only intended to press a kiss, just one, to her neck, but that turned into a line of open kissed up to her cheek. You didn’t need Simon noticing. The woman underneath you had other plans. She turned her face to meet you, capturing your lips. She filled your mouth with lemon and seltzer and the dry, piny, acidity of gin. You couldn’t help but melt into it, chase after it, lick it wildly from her mouth. When you palmed at her breast under the glittery, nubby fabric, startling away as she moved. She broke the kiss to moan against your mouth.

“Again. Please,” she whispered, dark and needy, placing your hand back on her chest.

A car screamed around you, horn blaring. Simon swerved the car back and forth, throwing you onto your back against the opposite seat with her on top of you.

“Keepin’ y’ own fuckin’ lane!” Simon shouted out the window. “Fuckin’ cunt. Learn t’ fuckin’ drive,” he said hoarsely, slamming his palm down on your poor steering wheel.

The woman on top of you giggled into your neck. You looked up in time to see Simon’s eyes narrow in on yours in the rear view mirror. Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

“Wha’s so fuckin’ funny back there?” he growled. You heard him hit the turn signal, slow down, and pull over into the left turn lane.

She pulled her head up slightly, body shaking as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Distracting you?” she asked before collapsing back into your neck, giggles bubbling out.

Simon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he went back to watching traffic.

She didn’t stop kissing you the rest of the ride. Even the change from Simon zipping down the busy, downtown streets to the slow crawl down the narrow roads of your neighborhood didn’t register. You were too busy tweaking her nipples through her dress, and then under her dress, while she rutted against your thigh.

It wasn’t until Simon opened the car door that you came crashing back to reality. The both of you looked up at him as he glowered down at you. Your view was upside down, making him look so much taller and intimidating. The way he leaned that stocky, muscled body of his against the car door while he waited, the same body that filled out those stupid light wash jeans and baggy hoodie, it made you want to push up his shirt to see those muscles he had sent you pictures of all those months ago.

You blushed. You hated how horny he made you, how you still wanted him after what an asshole he’d been since his arrival.

“Out,” he commanded, stepping back as you lost the warmth on top of you.

You detangled from each other before shuffling out under Simon’s heavy gaze. He leaned against the door, arms crossed, his bulk pushing the frame slightly to the side. You couldn’t meet his stare as you waited in the cool night air for the other woman to get out. When she did, it was sensual, lurid, like she was still putting on a show. She didn’t give even a glance over to Simon. Instead, she pressed herself to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thanks for a great time tonight,” she said sliding her hands down your back to your ass, grabbing a handful as she bit her lip.

Then she turned to Simon. You turned your head with her, catching him as he palmed the front of his jeans.

That was nothing. Probably, absolutely, nothing.

“Want me to umm . . .” she said coquettishly, batting her eyelashes as she trailed her hands back up your body, uncaring that she pulled your shirt up too. “. . . call an Uber?” She finished her sentence with a press forward into your breasts that made you shiver. “Don’t want to intrude if you two-”

“Get inside,” Simon commanded before popping off the side of the car and walking toward your backdoor, leaving no room for argument as he left you looking at one another.

You waited for your backdoor to slam closed behind Simon to say anything.

“You can leave if you want,” you said pulling away until it was just your hands cupping her cold shoulders. “I had a great time. I really did, but I should, you know,” you tipped your head toward the house, “clear things up with him.”

“You sure?” she asked sadly.

“Yeah,” you said letting your eyes and body drift away.

You tried to search for the right way to phrase your thoughts, but came up empty. The details of his life you’d been able to pull from your conversations had been brief, but always harrowing. It felt wrong to divulge to a near-stranger what little he’d told you. It was a lonely, bleak life he lived, with so much was still sealed away, secret, buried deep deep in the past. Maybe that was why you’d let him attach to you, why you’d still let him in after how he treated you. He was a old, abused dog of a man. Anyone else would have turned him away, but your heart was soft, always too soft. Even if it ruined this little bit of happiness, you’d give him another chance.

“He’s been through a lot, but he’s a good guy. Funny,” you finally said as her hand curled back around yours.

“Then I’ll stay,” she said resolutely, smiling as she pulled you toward the door.

The two of you stumbled through the dark kitchen, hands already roaming, trying to touch each other through your clothes as you stifled your laughter. She let you lead from here. You pulled her backwards, down the narrow hall of your little one-floor bungalow, past the bathroom and guest bedroom you had set Simon up in. Both were dark.

It did cross your mind for a moment, as she was biting at your top lip and pawing at your face, that you didn’t know exactly where Simon was, but the thought evaporated as you pushed her against your bed. She pulled herself up and then you on top of her. Both of your shoes clattered to the floor along with your shorts.

“Want you,” she moaned against your lips, pulling your shirt off. “So bad. Just, please, touch me, however you want.”

You hiked her dress up and off, slipping your hands underneath her panties at her hips. She sighed as you pulled them down. She was fucking beautiful, pussy absolutely drenched and quivering, waiting impatiently for you. You liked how clear she was with you, communicating as best as she could even this turned on. Still, you were more than a little nervous with what you had to say.

“I’ve, um . . . never done this before-,” you whispered, trailing your hand hesitantly across her mons.

She placed her hand on yours and pushed you down, forcing your fingers through her slick folds. Oh, she felt just heavenly. It made you squirm a bit yourself.

“Just do what feels good for you,” she instructed breathlessly, jumping as you circled her clit.

You nodded, letting her shuffle up the bed to give you room. She let you lead again, falling back against the mattress, allowing you to position her legs as you got in a comfortable position.

Your first lick up her slit was light and experimental. Fuck did she taste good, though: sweaty and briny and real. You dove in again and again, listening to her light sighs as she curled her fingers in your hair. When you got lucky and had someone eat you out, (god it had been so long) you liked it when they started slow and built you into your orgasm. You did the same for her, tongue light as you swirled around her clit, leaning in to suck at it just to hear her breathy moan. You hoped she would like it.

You jumped as a blunt finger traced up the seam of your pussy through your underwear.

“Gon’ make her cum, lovie?”

You whipped your head around, gasp falling from your mouth. Simon was leaning over the bed, his body only visible from his chest up like he was materializing out of the dark like some sort of specter.

You tried to turn, to cover yourself, anything, but it was no use. He drew himself further out of the shadows to kneel on the bed behind you. The hand on your pussy planted itself between your shoulder blades, pushing your face back down into the cunt in front of you.

“Finish ‘er off. Don’t pay me no mind,” he said low and dark, saddling up behind you.

You flicked your eyes up to the woman in front of you, nervous as to what she would think of this. To your surprise her hungry, low cast eyes were on Simon. She bit her lip and tossed her head to the side before looking back down at you as her hand crawled back to the crown of your head.

It spiked something in you, that look she gave him. It made you think back to all of the other long glances they had shared. What was going on between them? You’d assumed it was simple jealousy, a silly fight for dominance, for you. What ever it was, it made you dive back into her pussy with a renewed purpose. You had wanted her to come before, of course, but now you needed her to come. You needed to prove yourself to her, to feel her come undone with just your lips and tongue. You needed Simon to see you do it with equal measure.

Fingers curled in your hair and the woman below you shallowly bucked up into your mouth, a long low moan following. You almost didn’t feel Simon unclasping your bra.

“Tha’s it. Doin’ good. Keep goin’, lovie. Can see her legs shakin’, right? Know she’s close,” Simon commented. His voice was suddenly very close to your ear now that he was leaning over your back, rutting his jean-clad cock against the cleft of your ass.

All you cared about was those words. She’s close. You could feel it. Her whole core was shuddering against you. Poor, empty pussy clenching against nothing as you sucked on her clit, tongue lapping again and again at the sweet juice that poured from her.

She came suddenly with the cry of a high-pitched oh! as she rode your face, nails biting into your scalp. You stole a look up at her head thrown back against your pillow, the long column of her neck shimmering with sweat. She looked so beautiful. You worked her through it, slowly swirling your tongue around her pulsing clit until she let out a overstimulated whine.

You had wanted to crawl up into her arms after, to hold her and have that sweet moment of pillow talk before letting her fall asleep. Simon didn’t let you have that. He hauled you up against his chest. You thumped against his dark, solid mass that he almost knocked the breath from you. One hand kept you braced to his chest while the other wiped her slick from your mouth, petting your glossy lips with something resembling intimacy.

“Feel better now, hmm?” he asked, tipping your jaw up roughly to force you to face him. “Taste some pussy and now y’ ready to behave f’ me? Spoiled girl.”

You didn’t let you answer him before he set to work. The hand on you chest pulled your loose bra off your arms. One task done, he continued downward to slip a hand past the band of your panties. His large fingers skimmed straight to your dripping hole, ignoring your aching clit. You squirmed as he circled your entrance with those devastatingly large fingers.

“She do good?” he asked the blissed out woman in front of you, still forcing your head to face him.

“Mmm hmmm,” you heard her hum, sliding herself leisurely down the pillows until she was beneath you. “Really good for her first time.”

Without warning, he let go of you, leaving the woman below you to catch you. She sighed happily as she hugged you to her chest, pet your hair, and peppered your face with little kisses. Simon tossed his shirt off before pulling the back of your underwear to the side. He kicked your legs wide enough for him to fit his legs between yours with a single low huff of a laugh.

“Should reward y’ then, huh? Give you that dick y’ve been beggin’ for since I bloody fuckin’ got here?” he said sarcastically, a finger plunging suddenly into you.

You smothered a whine in the crook of her neck. Simon groaned, pumping the finger in and out, lewd, wet squelching filling the room.

“Fuckin’ wet,” he said breathless, leaning on his words. He bent over you again, large hand pressing an extreme arch into your back as he spoke into your ear. “Get this wet makin’ me watch? Thinkin’ you can make me jealous enough I’d finally fuck y’ proper?”

You answered with a muffled whine, smashed between the bodies under and on top of you.

You heard Simon unzip his jeans. You expected to feel some part of his skin not long after. When you didn’t, you turned your head to investigate. Your eyes went wide at what you saw. The woman below you, the one you had made out with and eaten out in front of your quasi-unofficial boyfriend, the one that you had unwittingly set up as a rival to this intimidating, mountain of a man, was stroking gently at his face.

They stared each other down with lusty, hooded eyes for a moment, unsure how this would end. Your mouth fell open as you watched Simon’s eyes flutter shut before leaning in the last few inches to seal his mouth over hers. A blush bloomed over your cheeks as a sudden understanding filled you. This is what it was like to watch someone you liked make out with someone else. To be on the outside looking in. You could only imagine what hell you’d put Simon through tonight. A small pain twisted in your stomach. The hard part was, you liked both of them. You really did, but there was something about your exclusion that made you feel the bite of a certain green-eyed snake.

Simon was the one who pulled away, a delicate string of saliva connecting their open mouths. It made you whine and squeeze her arm with want. You wanted that.

“Quit whinin’,” he mumbled, hauling himself back up.

Hands beneath you grabbed at the fat of your ass, squeezing and spreading you wide. She giggled as she presented your leaking holes to the man behind you. Good god, they were working together now.

Simon groaned as you felt his cock tap once, twice against your ass before notching the head at the entrance to your pussy. He pushed in fully, without waiting, with another breathy groan. You held the woman below you as a pitiful squeak ripped from your chest.

She pet your hair as she cooed, “Aww, is he too big, baby?”

You couldn’t answer. Simon settling the full length of his cock inside you stole the last of your brain power.

She giggled again, her hands sliding up your back as Simon’s large hands settled in their place. They both held you down as he began to fuck relentlessly into you, the weight and curve of his cock forcing you fully, deliciously open, knocking at your cervix with every thrust.

“I bet he is,” she purred in your ear. “Looks like a big boy. Acts like it, too.”

Every impact of his hips forced an involuntary, choked moan from your throat. Your hands gripped tight in the sheets. It’s all you could do as he pounded his full length into you again and again and again.

“Been waitin’,” Simon huffed, rough and deep, as he leaned over you. The change of position made you keen into the mattress. “Been waitin’ f’ this since, fuck,” he said losing his train of thought in his rhythmic slide in and out of the clutch of your cunt.

You knew exactly what he was trying to say. It was the night you finally sent him a dirty picture. It was only because you were drunk and he had promised to send more of his bare skin in return. The picture itself was shit. Dark and grainy, thanks to your shitty phone camera and mirror, but you were still in your bra and panties, leaning over the foot-board of your bed to get a good angle, and that was all he had asked for.

He didn’t respond for about an hour, which made you nervous. You spent most of that hour convinced he hated what he saw. Finally, you made yourself send him a single question mark followed by “you good?” just to make sure he was still alive.

“fuck love” he had responded, followed by a picture of his cum painting the palm of his hand, the leg of his tan pants, and spotting the floor if you could trust your eyes and his equally shitty photo. “more than good”

You’d fallen into a blissful sleep after that, waking up to the best text you’d ever received.

“can’t wait to get my hands on you”

Now here he is, finally railing you into the bed like you’d wanted. It’s impatient, sloppy, and little too rough, but fuck it, he’s here. You can feel all of his frustration pouring into you, the long, exhausting months spent on the job without the time for basic needs, let alone time to beat off.

Something tripped in your brain. There had always been this desire to please within you. A need to give and give and give but never take. There was something about how mercilessly he was fucking you that made you melt. You weren’t just taking it, you wanted it.

He pulled out of you suddenly, one big hand rolling you on to your back. You flopped onto the mattress, slightly to the right, but still on top of the other woman. Her hands and legs wound around you, spreading you open and squeezing at your tits as Simon worked himself to completion.

“On her pussy,” she sighed, a hand coming down to rub at your neglected clit. “Do it, Si. She’ll look so pretty coated in your cum.”

He followed her command to the letter, eyes pinching shut as he came with a moan, falling onto one hand as rope after rope of his spend shot across your splayed open sex.

Wow, you thought. He really had cum that much.

He pulled himself back upright with a groan, wiping his hand on the sheets below him. The fingers on your pussy didn’t stop as you’d expected, though. You shivered and whined as she expertly wound you tighter and tighter, orgasm fast approaching.

“Can I finish her?” she asked Simon, voice breathy as she watched her fingers work his warm, sticky cum around your nub. “Been so good to us. Think she deserves it.”

You looked up at Simon, eyes wet and pleading as whines after pitiful whine fell from your mouth. Fuck did you want to cum so bad. She had you teetering on a knife’s edge, just a few more targeted swipes and you would be there.

He nodded silently, smoothing his hands down your legs as he watched. You let your head roll to the side as she began to work tight circles over the exposed head of your pearl.

You opened your mouth to cry out as you came, but a mouth covered yours. You shuddered as his tongue slowly licked into your mouth, absorbing your cries. It was more than you could take. You felt tears roll down your cheeks as you curled your arms around his neck. When he pulled away you cried out his name as you fell from your peak.

“Si. Si. Si.”

He pecked a final kiss to your top lip before falling to your side with a groan. Your head was still floating, but that made you pliant, moveable enough for him to pull you over against his chest. Feeling something missing, you reached out, grabbing at nothing until you felt a body slide into your arms with a muffled, contented laugh.

“Right here, baby,” she said, popping her fingers out of her mouth to kiss your forehead. “Not going anywhere.”

A moment of silence fell as you all caught your breaths. Simon felt like a rock behind you. You assumed he had fallen asleep. The woman laying next to you was just as sleepy as you, heavy eyes fluttering shut as her chest began to rise and fall slowly and rhythmically.

“‘s fine by me,” Simon mumbled into your hair, “Din’ plan on lettin’ either ’f y’ go.”

a/n: thank u, first of all, to my kind, patient anon who started all this. u da best ❤️ I hope you like this! i also can't believe i wrote my first non-straight fic in pride month, lmao. Now to get part 3 of Girl's Night Out finished for my anniversary!!!

#mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #starry writes #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost/oc/reader #idk what else to tag this with!!! lmk if i fucked it up👍#asks #anon

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wheneverfeasible · 2 months ago

Text

Bloody Hands, Broken Hearts: a Mafia AU

Chapter 1

chapter wc: 4.6k || rating: M (for now) || cw: blood, violence, reference to death of a minor original character, sex trafficking, past rape/non-con, homophobic language, derogatory language towards sex workers, sexualized use of “Daddy”, mean dom!Eddie, feminized!Steve || ao3

summary: No UD. Years after being sold through a sex trafficking ring to a member of the mafia, Steve’s former master is deposed by one of the most feared men in organized crime, Don Kas the Bloody-Handed. Except, much to Steve’s surprise and horror, he knows him by another name: Eddie Munson.

An annoyed tsk left pale lips as the man picked at the drying blood on his thick, silver rings with his thumb from where he was leaning back against the sturdy mahogany desk. His legs were crossed before him in his repose, one bloody hand pressed against the disordered papers on the desk, uncaring that they were being marked by the deep red splattered across his palm and knuckles, already drying a dark hue not unlike the color of the desk itself.

After a tense, silent moment of the man examining his rings and nail beds, dark eyes flashed up to take in his captive audience. Quite literally. Though they were unbound where they were made to kneel on the floor, the men holding guns on either side of them and on the other side of the door let them know that escape was futile.

Steve was fucked.

The thing was, everyone knew of Kas. Kas the Bloody-Handed. That’s what people called him, at least, and looking at the glint of his silver rings smeared with the umber of dried blood, Steve could acknowledge that it was a fitting name. However, that was not his real name, and it was with mounting horror that Steve realized that that was not the name Steve knew him by.

No, to Steve, the man before him was none other than the boy Steve’s former best friend had taken the most sick delight in tormenting: Eddie Munson.

Munson looked different now, but there was no denying that it was him. He had more tattoos nowadays, including one curling up his neck to brush against his jaw and both his forearms covered in them as seen with his fancy dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up, exposing the dark ink. He also had close-cut facial hair now that was a slightly lighter color than the still long and curly dark brown hair he now had tied back into a low and loose ponytail with a piece of cord. There was a coldness to his dark eyes now too, his once more wiry frame now a little more filled out with compact muscle.

In another lifetime, Steve might have been able to acknowledge that the man was attractive, might have had another reason than fear making his mouth go dry and needing to thickly swallow. However, as it was, Steve could only flinch and duck his head further when those flint hardened eyes passed over him.

He was luckily not at the front of the group kneeling on the rug before their former master’s desk, in front of their former master’s fireplace in their former master’s bookshelf lined study. There were a little more than a half-dozen of them, all trembling with fear at the knowledge that whatever horror they had been living through before, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Munson, or Kas, was notorious, infamous even. He had been a nobody once, until suddenly he was a Somebody with a capital S. He swiftly moved up the ranks of his clan, earning respect borne of fear for his ruthlessness, until suddenly he was sitting on the metaphorical throne. He was not happy there, however, and all too soon he was making a name for himself amongst the other families too.

All too soon the other families began falling before him like dominos, one right after the other, bending the knee or—if they refused or otherwise displeased him—being eliminated entirely.

Which was what had occurred here to Steve’s former…employer. Not that Steve or the others got paid for what they did. Or had done to them. Steve couldn’t even say that behaving well and pleasing whoever they were sent to had them being treated better, since more often than not pain was part of their client’s pleasure.

As for their master—or Daddy, as they were instructed to call him—he was the worst of the worst. The way he showed his favor was through far more than just simple pain. Pain was something Steve could handle. It was the attention that was the terrifying part. Yet, Steve bore that attention willingly, for it kept it off of all the others.

“Tell me,” the voice of their new master softly intoned, his voice like thunder in the tense silence of the room, despite being little more than a murmur. Munson’s voice was a little raspier than Steve remembered it being, but then it had been years since Steve had last seen much less heard the other man. The man had dropped out of school during his own senior year, Steve’s junior, and no one knew what had become of him. Now Steve knew, at least.

Every ear was straining to hear what their new master would say next, though every eye was trained on the ground before their master’s feet. Steve was suddenly thankful his hair was a little longer than he personally liked, grown to be easier to grab and manipulate the head to which it was attached. It also allowed him now to obscure his face ever so slightly as he swiftly lowered his head and his gaze when Munson’s eyes scanned over them.

“Tell me,” Munson said again, and even with his eyes on the man’s blood splattered shoes, Steve could tell that Munson had a sardonic smile on his lips. “Which one of you was Porzio’s favorite?”

Steve barely withheld a flinch. Of course Munson would want to know that. Unlike his former owner, Munson wasn’t an idiot. He couldn’t be to get to where he was now. An idiot would only get themselves killed. Case in point: Carmine “the Uber Dead Asshole” Porzio, gone and soon to be forgotten in the year of our father…Christ, whatever year it was nowadays.

It was hard to keep track of time when you spent the majority of it on your knees or with your face shoved into a mattress.

But Munson wanted to know Porzio’s favorite. The one who he kept with him the majority of the time, the one used for his own personal pleasure, the pleasure of his most loyal lieutenants. The one who was treated like nothing more than decoration, as though their ears suddenly stopped working just because their mouth was filled.

It was a smart move, really. An excellent way to obtain secret gossip or information that might not be in the books. The favorite was a fount of information, but also a great liability. Sometimes it was better to cut the head off a snake before it could bite. Munson obviously knew what he was doing, which should be evident by now. The only problem?

Steve had been Porzio’s favorite.

He knew what he looked like nowadays. He hardly looked like the King Steve he had once been before everything, hardly looked like the rich and privileged jock Munson would have known him as. His own muscle mass was no longer what it had once been, the loss of weight only natural after everything he’d been through, and bruises littered his body where he’d either been punished or been used for pleasure. Sometimes those were interchangeable.

Not only that, but his clothing was far from what Munson would have last seen him in. No polos, no jeans, no letterman jacket. Instead, Steve wore what the others wore, his body hair waxed away in an attempt to add to his feminization. Aided, of course, by the short black skirt that exposed the majority of his thighs through the fishnets, and the red lace bustier top that only just covered nipples but left his midriff exposed. Matching red strappy heels laced up his calves, with a thick black collar completing the ensemble around his neck, a dainty little silver ‘V’ dangling from it like a license.

It was entirely possible that Munson wouldn’t recognize him. After all, they both might have made a name for themselves in school, but Munson hadn’t been there for the disaster of Steve’s senior year, and it wasn’t like they had ever directly interacted before. Tommy always did the majority of his bullying when Steve wasn’t around, knowing Steve didn’t approve of it, so it wasn’t like Munson and him had spent any great amount of time together.

It helped that the makeup he wore was smudged too, which would hopefully act as a camouflage. Perhaps, if he answered things in a way that pleased Munson, if Munson could look past the fact that he was a guy in this role he’d been forced into, perhaps he’d live to see another day.

His lip was already split and his cheek already bruised by Porzio’s earlier slap, so he wasn’t looking forward to having the rest of his face caved in by Kas the Bloody-Handed.

Swallowing back his nausea, Steve drew in a breath and began to lift his head to call attention to himself and away from the others, when another voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I am, sir,” Janice called out, standing from her kneeling position at the front of the huddle. Steve’s head jerked to look at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. Her fingers twitched at her side, swiping horizontal to the floor ever so slightly, though she didn’t look at him. Stay quiet, that action said. Stay safe.

Steve’s stomach clenched painfully, and all the affection he felt for his girls surged through his bloodstream. He had tried, hard as he could, to protect them from the worst of things. He couldn’t do much, but he had made certain Porzio was focused entirely on him and none of the others. They worked as well, but Porzio was the most sadistic, the most vile; he would happily take it all on to save his girls from that.

To think that now, in the face of one of the most feared men in organized crime, they would try to protect him…it was beyond anything he’d ever known. No one had ever sought to protect him before.

Munson’s brow ticked up, his gaze sliding like oil over Janice’s trembling body, but she held firm with her head up. His sardonic smile only grew. “Are you now?”

He appreciated her help, he did, but he couldn’t let Janice risk everything for him. Before he could stand, before he could come clean with the truth, a firm hand was pressing down on his shoulder as Mona stood up from behind him, forcing him to stay kneeling.

“I was also a favorite, sir,” Mona says, making Steve wonder what in the I-am-Spartacus hell was going on. Still, warmth and fondness for his girls spread through him quickly as he looked around and noticed every last one of them had bunched muscles indicating preparation for movement. For him.

Munson looked a whole lot less amused, however, his brow dropping into a deep furrow as his gaze settled on the new apparent favorite. Kas was well-known for not taking fondly to liars and cheats. If he suspected that they were trying to pull a fast one on him…

Just as Munson was opening his mouth to say something, looking far less than pleased, Steve hurriedly shot to his feet. “It’s me,” he said quickly, almost breathlessly, wanting to say it before someone else decided to shout out Spartacus in a misguided attempt to help him. He moved to take a step forward and away from the others when he froze in place by the sound of a gun being cocked and levelled behind him.

Another tense hush fell as Munson stared at him, his eyes dragging over Steve’s form with both brows raised this time, an almost startled air to his mean smile. He waited a few moments more before flicking his wrist, the sound of the gun and man holding it returning to standby mode. Two fingers were then crooked at Steve to indicate for him to finish stepping forward.

Steve glanced at Janice and Mona, giving their beseeching looks a small shake of his head, and then they were slowly and reluctantly returning to their kneeled positions. Taking a deep breath, Steve crossed the distance and moved to take his place in front of Munson, kneeling at his feet without hesitation. “It was me, sir,” he murmured, keeping his gaze down. “I was Master Porzio’s favorite.”

It took all of his willpower (and training) not to flinch when Munson’s chunky rings came into view, his calloused fingers touching Steve’s chin to lift his face to meet his gaze. Steve couldn’t suppress the tremble at finally meeting Munson’s eyes for the first time, terrified of seeing recognition there.

Instead, Munson’s eyes stayed hard and flat, though with a touch of curiosity. A small smirk curled his lips. “Well now. Who would have guessed Porzio was a fudge packer,” he lightly sneered. His gaze moved over to the kneeling women before back to Steve. “And this is why they lied to me, to protect the fairy amongst them?” He snorted. “Who knew there was honor amongst whores.”

Munson’s thumb slid lightly against the edge of Steve’s bottom lip, and well familiar with the gesture, Steve parted his lips obediently. Something dark but pleased flashed behind Munson’s eyes, and praying he was doing the right thing, Steve let the tip of his tongue flick ever so softly against the pad of Munson’s thumb.

Almost immediately after, Munson pressed the rest of his thumb into Steve’s mouth, pressing down on Steve’s tongue enough to make him briefly gag. “Suck,” he ordered harshly, and Steve obeyed.

The familiar taste of sweat and blood filled his mouth as Steve’s lips wrapped around Munson, but he paid it no mind as he worked at fellating the man’s thumb. He kept eye contact the entire time, his hands curled in his lap, as he worked his mouth over the digit. He swirled his tongue over the thumb like it was a cock head, bobbing his head ever so slightly. Munson’s dark eyes watched him the entire time.

Just as Steve was beginning to wonder if he should start faking some moans, Munson pulled his thumb from Steve’s mouth with a slick wet sound, leaving a small trail of spit over Steve’s lips. Munson lightly snorted, lifting his gaze to look at his men. With silent communication, the men nodded and motioned for the kneeling women to stand, ushering them out of the room.

Steve could feel the eyes on him, knew his girls were looking at him, but he knew better than to return the look. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly on Munson who now leaned back against the deck with his arms crossed watching Steve.

Once the thick doors clicked closed behind the others, leaving Steve and Munson alone, a wry grin curled over Munson’s lips. “I can see why you were the favorite, if you suck cock half as good as you suck thumb.” Munson shrugged, pushing off the desk with a small snort to walk around it, settling in the leather chair behind the massive thing. He reached forward and tapped the desk beside him.

Once more obeying wordlessly, Steve swiftly stood and moved around the desk, settling his ass just to the side of where Munson sat as had been indicated. A derisive laugh left Munson then, but he didn’t look like he was about to punish Steve for being what he was. Or who he was. Instead, he looked mildly contemplative as he rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair, propping his chin up with his fist.

“Tell me, sweetheart, you got a name?”

Relief coursed through Steve so quickly he lost his breath for a moment, as though lightning had struck him down. Munson didn’t know his name, meaning he didn’t recognize Steve. Even better, Steve hadn’t gone by Steve in a while. He needn’t worry about someone slipping up and revealing that information when none of them knew it either.

“I’m Vee,” he answered, fingers moving up to lightly graze against the charm hanging from his collar. “But you can call me anything you want…” Steve swallowed quickly, glancing down before peeking up demurely through his lashes, “Daddy,” he finished on a soft breath.

A grin spread across Munson’s lips, and though it wasn’t quite as manic as the ones he used to smile back in high school, a spark of something like genuine amusement flashed behind his eyes. He leaned forward then, sliding his hand over Steve’s fishnet covered thigh until his fingers brushed ever so slightly under the bottom hem of his tight skirt.

“I’ll keep that in mind, precious,” he smirked. “And maybe you can keep your status as favorite, if you’re a good little boy.” His eyes traveled once more over Steve’s body, his smirk growing. “Though I bet there’s nothing small about you, Vee.”

Steve swallowed, feeling oddly flushed at being on the receiving end of Munson’s gaze. Of Kas’s gaze. He had to remind himself that this was more than just his former schoolmate; this man was perhaps one of the most dangerous men alive. His vast network spread far and wide, spies hiding everywhere.

“I’ll be good for you, Daddy. Promise,” he said softly.

“Oh, I’m sure you will, precious. I don’t tolerate failure.”

What was expected of him now? Should he slide into Munson’s lap? Move underneath the desk? Bend over the top? Wouldn’t be the first time he was in any of those positions in this very room. Munson simply continued watching him, however, indicating nothing.

Just when Steve was ready to beg for an order, Munson sighed and removed his hand from Steve’s thigh, settling back further into the expensive rolling leather chair, pressing his fingertips together into a steeple before him.

“We will be remaining here for several days as we go over Porzio’s records,” Munson stated, startling Steve slightly. He was unused to being addressed about any affairs other than what happened in the bedroom. Or anywhere else his master wanted him. Having Munson tell him what was going to happen now was thus unprecedented.

“You and the other whores will have your room guarded at all times and you will require, let’s say, a chaperone of sorts to move around the manor, at least until I can trust you,” Munson said with another small smirk. “Once I am satisfied with my acquisition of the estate, we will be moving to my main residence. Should you and the others please me during this transition, we can negotiate a reward for behaving so well. Do you understand?”

Though Steve’s insides always pinched at being called a whore, seeing as how neither he nor the others ever chose that particular career path, he had enough practice now to ignore such things. It wasn’t like someone of Kas’s reputation would care overly much about their sob stories. No, Steve gave such things only a passing thought, his mind caught on the end of his new master’s sentence.

“A reward?” he couldn’t help but ask, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Luckily for him, Munson did not seem to be particularly annoyed at his wagging tongue.

“The exact circumstance of which will depend entirely on you,” Munson agreed. “Consider it a quid pro quo situation. You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I can guarantee that this is a far better deal than you had with Porzio. However,” he cautioned, holding up a single finger. “Any failure to comply or please me will make whatever Porzio did to you seem like a shy lover’s kiss.”

Steve swallowed down a grimace. That he understood perfectly well.

“I will also have a doctor visit to ascertain your health,” Munson added with a small shrug, clasping his hands before himself. “I have no use for spoiled goods.”

“Master Por—”

A loud smack of hand meeting wood startled Steve greatly enough that a small noise left him as he jumped, leaning away with wide eyes. Munson stared hard at him, leaning in with a small growl of warning.

“Porzio is not your master now, Miss Vee,” the man sneered mockingly. “You will no longer refer to him as such. You may call him either ‘Porzio’ or ‘that pig’ and nothing else, do I make myself clear?”

Steve swallowed, hastily nodding his head. “Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry, Daddy,” he rushed to say, dropping his gaze and trying not to tremble too greatly. His—Porzio was never consistent. Whether he liked you timid or not could change at the drop of a hat, moving from one extreme to the other at a moment’s notice. He didn’t know if Munson would appreciate a fearful display, or become annoyed with it. Only time would tell.

“I-I merely wished to assure you that we receive regular checkups to ensure our optimum health,” he murmured quietly. “But we will gladly submit to any examination or procedure you wish of us.”

Munson sat back in the chair as he studied Steve with an unreadable expression now. He glanced down at his still bloodied hand and the rings there. He gave a small snort, moving to slowly and carefully pull the stained items off his fingers and settling them in a small pile on the messy desk.

“Clean those,” he ordered. “And then bring them to my room tonight.” He smirked then, his eyes sliding over Steve’s figure once more. “We have much to…discuss,” he murmured, his brows raising slightly. “And Vee,” he added when Steve nodded and moved to stand up, causing Steve to pause.

Munson’s smirk seemed colder then, causing Steve to shiver as though physically chilled. “While I appreciate your immediate acceptance in the change of leadership around here, know that how quickly you switched your loyalties has not been unnoticed. Should you ever attempt to switch them again…you will not find the outcome favorable. Do I make myself clear?”

Dread settled low in Steve’s belly as he stared at Munson with wide eyes. He was standing on the edge of a precipice he hadn’t known existed until too late. He should have realized things would not be as easy as he had hoped they would be, should not have grown complacent when Munson didn’t recognize him.

Licking his lips, Steve swallowed back the threatening rise of bile. He dropped his head, chewing lightly on his bottom lip before glancing at Munson through his lashes once more. “I had no genuine loyalty to…to that pig, Daddy,” he murmured. “He was not a respectable man. Unlike you, sir.”

Had it been Porzio, he would have attempted a coy smile. He had a feeling Munson would be able to see right through it, however, so he instead tried to look as earnest as possible without actively begging. He slowly slid off the desk, catching Munson’s eyes.

“We know who you are, Daddy. None of us would ever dare to oppose you. I know the loyalty of a whore means nothing, Don Kas, but I was the favorite. The other girls will follow my example, and I pledge my loyalty wholly unto you.”

Munson snorted, looking for all the world like Steve amused him. Like Steve was some insignificant insect with delusions of grandeur. The man rubbed at his facial hair with a wry smile that did not meet his eyes. “And what of your body, darling? What if I told you that your dear Mr. Porzio and I shared…similar predilections.”

Steve squared his shoulders, a more genuine smile on his own lips because he had already been expecting this, had known his career on his knees was far from over. One hand on the desk as he leaned over to grasp the waiting rings and the other on his hip, he offered a small shrug of a shoulder.

“My body already belonged to you the second Porzio thought to move against you,” he replied easily. “He was not my dear anything. Not when I was already yours, Master.”

Munson studied him for a moment, but something almost pleased curled at the corners of his lips. “I think I much prefer you calling me ‘Daddy,’” he replied, reaching out to grasp Steve’s chin again for the briefest moment. He withdrew almost immediately. “Go now. And wash your face of that makeup while you’re at it. Make yourself presentable for me tonight.”

It was as he expected. He could not be bitter or regretful when he’d known this was coming all along. It was, after all, much better than his own blood staining the rings he now held in his palm.

“Yes, Daddy. Should I prepare myself for you?” he asked easily as he straightened. He would play his own part well. He was used to this role he’d been thrust into ever since he put his trust in the wrong person. He had seen it enough with his own parents, making him wish that little high school Steve Harrington had known what he knew now:

Love is just a fairytale.

Standing from the chair, Munson let out a soft huff of laughter, amused by Steve’s words. “You really do have your lines down, don’t you?” he scoffed as though reading Steve’s mind. “No matter. We’ll see how well you play your part tonight,” he said in a tone that was almost teasing, his hand moving to settle over Steve’s lower back to guide him around the desk and towards the carved double doors.

He paused then with a hand on the doorknob, eyes almost black as he grinned a shark’s grin, and let his voice drop to an almost conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me when I say that nothing you could do would prepare you for what I have planned tonight, sweetheart.”

Munson opened the door then, ushering Steve out with a slap to his ass, though the soldiers guarding the door didn’t react at all. However, Steve could not spare them even a passing thought as his blood turned to ice in his veins when Munson’s grin grew, uttering the words that sealed Steve’s doom.

“See you tonight, Harrington.”

As the door clicked closed, as his prison guard stepped forward to take him by the bicep to drag him away back to his gilded cage with the others, Steve felt that blade of ice pierce his chest with extreme certainty.

There was no escape for him. His fate had been sealed the day he had defied his parents, had fled town with the boy he had thought loved him, and he had only brought it all upon himself. Munson was going to kill him. Maybe not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but one day. Perhaps even one day soon.

Thrust into the room he shared with the others, he felt the door close and lock behind him, heard the worried voices and careful touches of his girls as they frantically tried to make certain he was all right, but it was like hearing them underwater, like he was wading upstream through a deadly current. He was shaking, he realized, fat tears sliding down his cheeks.

Only belatedly did he realize his hand was hurting where he had curled his fist around the chunky rings. With an almost detached curiosity he glanced down as he released his clenched fist and stared at the rings he may very well be cleaning in preparation for his own blood and skull and brains to stain their surface.

Absently, he reached out with his free hand to pluck a strand of hair caught in the snarled teeth of a silver monster. There was a clump of bloody scalp still attached to the end of the follicle.

Steve laughed.

Next chapter…

This scene comes from an idea that would not leave me alone until I wrote it down. I don’t know if I’ll ever continue it as it is quite different from my usual stuff, but I do have some ideas for possible continuation and further backstory for our two leading men

Yeah nvm I’m gonna continue this, it won’t leave my thoughts

Fun fact: I almost named the second OFC Monica but then I realized that with the first one being named Janice that I was unintentionally writing it as a Friends crossover and I had to change her name before I named the next one Phoebe or something 😂 oops my bad

Also, Porzio means “hog”, while Carmine means “vivid red” lol

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

#fic: bloody hands broken hearts #mafia au #mafia steddie #mafia boss eddie munson #sw steve harrington #angst and whump #pre steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie au #also on ao3 #to be continued #plot thots

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least-sexy-man-competition · 2 years ago

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ZIM VS FLINT PAPER

ROUND 1 SIDE B

REMEMBER TO VOTE FOR WHO YOU THINK IS MORE SEXY! THE LOSER WILL MOVE ON!

#bracket #tournament polls #polls #round 1 #side b #least sexy man #least sexy man poll #zim #flint paper #flint s&m #invader zim #zim invader zim #flint paper sam & max #flint paper sam and max #sam and max #sam & max

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rose-weaxley · 1 year ago

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Memes de la gen 2024-25 pt.2 (ft. reprobados, ft. Instituto Scamander)

@homenum-revelio-rpg

#homenum revelio rpg #ch: kit m strauss #ch: william o weiss #ch: nik a owens #ch: gideon o wood #ch: mcafee r dearing #ch: ophelia w scrimgeour #ch: alfie c slughorn #ch: wendy h miller #ch: emma g flint #ch: m blair mcconnell #ch: marjorie r macmillan #ch: orson b rowle #ch: nicte a garcia #ch: beth s dangerfield #ch: heath t parkinson #ch: sasil c garcia #gen2425

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the-golden-comet · 5 months ago

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❄️✨Alpha-Write tag✨❄️

Thank you for the tag @katenewmanwrites and @drchenquill [x] ! Created by @agirlandherquill 💖 (doubling this as a writing share as well, from @rivenantiqnerd . Thank you as well for the tag! ✨)

Rules: for every letter of the alphabet, compose a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter

I want to make a story out of this, so here is a short-horror story: “A Breath in the Cold, Dreaded Evening Frost”

All of them, every single one, had vanished.

Before the final day, I took a deep breath.

“Call out to me,” I begged. No one responded.

Death lurked around every corner.

Everywhere the stench of decay and rot stung at my nostrils, only dampened by the snow.

“Fire….” I shivered. “…I need to make a fire.”

Going into the forest, I gathered a few twigs and leaves.

Hardly any kindling was left. The forest was quiet.

I took another deep breath.

“Just stay calm…” I whispered in a shaky rasp.

Knowing there was little hope left, my pulse caught in my throat. My fingers shook in the frost.

“Let me live….” I whimpered.

More whispers in the biting wind screeched like banshees in my ears.

“No one is left.”

“Only you have remained. And here you will die.”

“P-Please work….” I stuttered on my frostbitten lips, striking the kindling against the sparse twigs and hoping to ignite a blaze.

Quiet winds tousled my stiff hair. It was too quiet here.

Reality clutched at my heart. Nobody was left. All of them, every single one, had vanished.

Sobbing, I finally struck a spark from the flint. Embers smouldered a bright red as I nursed the flame.

Time is running out.

Under my hands, the fire died out. There was nothing left.

Very faintly, I drew my final breath. The final day.

Weeping, weary, I closed my eyes.

Xenon filled the air as a faint light grew. In the whispers of the wind, I heard it:

“You are next.”

Zero days remain.

Tagging (no pressure): @fortunatetragedy , @autism-purgatory , @cowboybrunch , @deanwax , @noblebs , @bookish-karina , @jev-urisk , @noxxytocin , @illarian-rambling , @willtheweaver , @aintgonnatakethis , @avaseofpeonies , @katenewmanwrites , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @fantasy-things-and-such , @far-cry-from-finality , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @theaistired , @i-hate-happy-endings , @ath3alin , @dyrewrites , +open tag!✨

#goldencomet💫#writeblr tag games #a to z challenge #creative writing #creative writers #horror stories #short story #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr community #writing community #writerscommunity #writers on ao3 #ao3 community #writing #writers #writing exercise #readers and writers

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filmorgue · 3 months ago

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Flint and Seth strolled into the main hall, where they spotted a cluster of students huddled together. Flint recognized the group from orientation and made his way through the throng to reach them.

D: Hey, there you are!

R: We were searching for you!

F: Funny, because I distinctly remember you two abandoning me. Traitors!

Laughter erupted, followed by their apologies.

R: Looks like you’ve made a new friend!

F: Indeed! This is Seth. Seth, meet the crew: Rhiannon, Daphne, Leona, Mack, and Xen.

S: Great to meet everyone! So, we’re all freshmen here?

D: Seems that way smirks.

F: So, did you all discover anything interesting today?

D: Not much. I hit the library and found some fascinating books about the magic realm, even for seers like me.

R: I chatted with a few teachers. I think I might dive into alchemy and poisons. A werewolf with sorcery skills? Call me a hybrid!

The group burst into laughter, and then Leona chimed in.

L: That sounds awesome! But I’m keen on joining some clubs. What do you think, Mack?

M: I suppose I could consider it.

X: While you all are busy with your clubs and learning, I’ll be focused on serious stuff. I want to become the ultimate duelist!

Mack crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, while the girls giggled. Just then, another bell rang, followed by someone clearing their throat.

H: Welcome to all freshmen and returning students. I trust that you find this initial orientation engaging as you embark on your semester here. For those of you who are returning, you are already familiar with the expectations, and I eagerly anticipate witnessing your achievements this year. However, I sincerely hope we do not encounter a recurrence of last year's incidents. The faculty and I will be monitoring the situation closely. Freshmen, you have been provided with a guide and a map detailing all Filmorgue facilities within the mortal realm. Additionally, your accommodation details and the courses you will be enrolled in this quarter are included.

Tomorrow is designated as a free day, so I encourage you to take advantage of this opportunity to finalize your course selections before classes commence. Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact any headmaster. I wish you all the best for a successful year filled with exploration and learning.

A hush fell over the room, signaling that Mr. Hellstring had finished his speech, and soon a booklet materialized in everyone's hands. The audience began to murmur among themselves as some started to drift away. Flint glanced at the magical tome and realized that she was primarily enrolled in basic beginner courses. More like "So you wanna know magic 101" aspect not quite hands on. I guess being mortal you have to start the lowest of the low.

F: Not even one potion making course, lame

D: I think it's common for folks that can't...wield magic plus it's only the first quarter.

R: You have plenty of time to learn the more "difficult" stuff

F: Yeah yeah *rolls eye*

X: Alright I'm ready to check out this housing before all the good rooms are taken

Before he could take one step towards the door, two jerk powered through the crowd and bump into him causing him to fall on the ground

R: Hey watch where your going idiots!

?: Pfft, you're fault. Shouldn't have been in our way

Leona growled under her breath but Mack hold her back.

L: You losers could have also walked around us. There was plenty of room

?: Where's the fun in that?

They smirked before going on their way out the exit. Mack bend down to offered Xen his hand for help

M: You know when I said you'll get your comeuppance. This isn't what I had in mind

F: Are you okay Xen?

X: Pfft, of course I am. Jerks just caught me off guard

L: Well no school is completed without bullies. Ugh so high school

D: Everything was going so well

R: Let's not worried about those idiots, we should all start getting settle in while we still can

The group made their way towards the exit.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7 "Comeuppance"

Rhiannon (@sadraccoon061), Leona & Mack The Starnes (@invisiblequeen), and Xen (@xstardustbatsx)

previous/next

#filmorgue #sims 4 story #sims 4 #ts4 #visual novel #other sims #chapter 7 #oc: flint

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kindalikerackham · 2 years ago

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The Black Sails Drama Highlights™️

Like, what the fuck happened over there?

Lucky for you, I was there on the ground floor (even sent in some propaganda that elicited a truly baffling response from the poll runner) because I'm a nut for goofy little tumblr polls and a nut for best little lesser-known-tv-show Black Sails.

Alright, so. @/pirate-battle (from here on out referred to as OP -- the Original Pollster) was running, as one might expect, a pirate bracket. At first glance, it wasn't explicitly presented what the criteria were, so people voted on their preference, often moving along pirate icons (Hook from Muppet Treasure Island)/characters from active fandoms (TAZ), etc etc you know the drill. (Although they later clarified they were looking for favorites, not the "best pirate.")

OP's first mistake, I think, was the assumption that a silly goofy little tumblr competition about characters archetypically ungovernable would remain silly goofy and with minimal strong language.

But this wouldn't become visible until they made their second mistake, creating a first-round poll between James 'brutually murdered a crewmate in the first episode solely to maintain power for his revenge-quest against England' Flint of Black Sails vs Stede 'notable used tissue' Bonnet of OFMD. They did recognize some of the coming danger even with that post, tagging "#I predict slaughter in the tags"

O Apollo, strike down these children with prophecies that bite them in the a--

Anyway. Predictably, there was slaughter in the tags. Violent language rather typical of the tumblr that I came from (the tumblr of the early 2010s), but seemed to be utterly shocking to some OFMD fans.

Exposition time: It should be noted here that there exists at least two-ish different kinds of users of tags. Those that use them to scream personal thoughts into the void and/or whispers into their mutuals' ears, and those sneaky little fools who will peruse everyone's personal little screams/thoughts to their internet buddies. And original posters are relegated to suffer the yelling/whispers without choice.

So that slaughter, in the tags, those rivers of blood through the whispers of a fervent fanbase of a violent and freeing queer show, did reverberate around other users, regardless of etiquette.

And for some of those very sweet very uwu our flag means gay fans, that was.. very scary. (Must be all those spooky theatrics with the smoke and mirrors).

(....Idk??? Maybe I'm just battle-hardened from superwholock, but saying a tag a la "AHHHHHH I'm going to rip something's head off my BOY BETTER WIN" just doesn't really phase me?? Nor does "#I'm literally going to k/m/s if x wins." Overkill? Yeahhh... But this is tumblr. We invented overkill for the media we like. And again, this was in someone's tags.)

Moving on, as tags of that violent nature starting pulling through, and people started vigorously defending black sails as a franchise over ofmd, myself and others sent in some propaganda of my own, urging OFMD fans to really understand that Black Sails is mostly incomparable to OFMD and... Black Sails is just kinda better. Cuts deeper. Genre difference at work here.

Soapbox Side Note: Black Sails can actually be kind of game changing, especially for a show that came out in 2014. There's so much to say about it but it's hard to talk about without spoiling. I might add a link to a good 'things to know' post if you're looking to get into it.

Anyway. OP was starting to lose it.

Like, I really just don't think they had mentally prepared for how truly feral Black Sails folks were/are about that show, and how they were willing to get all HRRRRRRR CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP about it.

Additionally... OP was white, and they were super duper unprepared to engage with any of the discourse about racism that these shows dig up (They're about pirates, and a lot of pirates engaged in the slave trade. Or had freed slaves on their crew. Some even owned slaves themselves. It was complicated and pirates are typically a white fantasy vehicle and anyway I'm getting off-track--)

OP started to really fan the flames with more and more visibly emotional responses

They said "it's not a competition" between the two shows, despite it... being a literal competition...

They called people out for "gatekeeping," but didn't really define what it meant in the context of saying one gay pirate show was way better than the other.

They told Black Sails fans not to express negative feelings towards OFMD on the internet (because good representation is the god us internet queers pray to, and we wouldn't want some network exec to say "oh those mean people on the internet, better not renew the popular pirate romcom" obvi)

After some more of this, they then threatened to overturn the results of the poll entirely and remove Flint from the poll wholesale, despite the fact that he had won. (Which is hilarious if you know anything about Flint in Black Sails. He's literally That Guy That Makes People Break Democracy Attempting To Unseat Him).

Finally, after a day of trying to ignore the fact that they'd become a meme within black sails circles (one post even screenshotted then with "new copypasta just dropped" yikes), they threw in the towel. And bless them, I do think they needed the break. They were kind of going through it.

In conclusion,

The Black Sails fans pulled what I might even daresay to be,, , a fuckery "of censorship and fear",, over OFMD fans and some poor unprepared poll runner who had no skin in the game, while using only strong language and some mild mean-spirited memes (95% of which in their own tags and posts).

#black sails #poll drama #pirate drama

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