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prythiansprincess · 11 days ago

Text

— a taste of the divine.

NAVIGATION // inbox. tags. writing. library. moodboard.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: the summoning by sleep token.

author’s note: vampire! mattheo has been on my mind for ages and now i've finally written something so hedonistic and self-indulgent solely inspired by the fact that the man looks good drenched in blood. sink your teeth in.

Everything in the world is about sex — except sex. Sex is about power.

At an early age, you learned how to wield your sexuality like a weapon. After working as a courtesan for as long as you have, you quickly realized that men were truly only capable of categorizing women in one of two ways: the Virgin: an embodiment of purity, innocence, and virtue or the Whore: an incarnation of seduction, manipulation, and promiscuity.

To be desirable, you were expected to walk a fine line and maintain a perfect balance between the two. Lean too close to the right and you’re classified a prude. Swing too far to the left and you’re labeled a slut. The difference lies in whether or not you know how to play the game.

Given your line of work, it was in your best interest to become a top player. According to the Madam, you had a gift when it came to enticing clients. In reality, you were merely observant. The ability to accurately read people was a necessity in the game of seduction.

To seduce someone, you need to know their dreams, their hopes, and most importantly, their desires. Most clients were motivated by a fantasy. It was your job to become that fantasy and you were quite good at your job.

Ironically enough, the Madam always said that there were only two types of clients. The majority sought after instant gratification; a quick fuck, a one night stand, a memory to get himself off to while he lies next to his wife longing for the glory days of when his cock still worked. They were easier to please. The latter, on the other hand, proved to be a little more difficult. The naive ones that believed in silly fairy tales like making love, sighing dreamily about romance and intimacy and connection while inevitably setting themselves up for disappointment.

You were more realistic. For you, sex has always been tit-for-tat. You never offered more than you received. Until Lord Riddle.

You should have known Mattheo was trouble from the moment you laid eyes on him.

The first thing that you noticed about the young lord is that he preferred his own company. Every time you came across him in the Underworld, he was always alone. Mattheo never interacted with the other clients. Not out of shame like most of the first timers at the club, but out of observance. He was gauging his surroundings, judging the others around him in stoic silence, and filing them away in neat little categories in his mind. In other words, Lord Riddle was a predator sizing up his prey. Just like you.

Usually, it only took a single interaction for you to figure out what type of person someone was. You could easily tell which clients possessed great wealth, political advantage, or secrets so terrible that you could easily exploit for your own advantage. Needless to say, this special skill of yours made you the most infamous courtesan in all of London and subsequently, the Madam’s favorite.

But as you observed the mysterious stranger from across the room, you were surprised to come across something that you haven’t encountered for a very long time — a challenge.

“Great choice,” the Madam praised from over your shoulder. “Would you like to be introduced?”

“No,” you answered as you lazily sipped on a glass of champagne. “Lord Riddle will make his move when the time is right.”

Three nights passed before Lord Riddle made his approach. The Underworld was filled to the brim with gyrating bodies, their sticky and sweaty limbs pressed against one another as they danced to the seductive crooning of the singer on stage. The red spotlight bathed the crowd in a hazy light as smoke curled through the dancefloor.

“Not a fan of the crowd, I take it?” Lord Riddle drawled as he smoothly sidled up to your side.

“I prefer to watch,” you replied nonchalantly as you sipped champagne. “Clearly, I’m not alone in that, my lord.”

Lord Riddle smirked seductively, drawing you in like a predator toying with his prey. As you firmly held his gaze, you finally allowed yourself to truly take him in. Looking at Mattheo was like looking at a masterpiece — the dark and seductive eyes, the sharp cheekbones, the angular jaw, and the tall and lean body that towered over your own were all pieces of a work of art that deserved to be immortalized in a museum. Suffice to say that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Still, there was more to Lord Riddle than just an aesthetically pleasing appearance. There was a presence about him, a certain magnetism that pulled you into his orbit. You felt drawn to him in a way that you had never felt with anyone else before.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice was husky — smoky almost and it sounded like silk to your ears. Lord Riddle held out a gloved hand and flashed his charming smile. “My name is Mattheo. Mattheo Riddle.”

You shook his covered hand, noting the ancient heirloom ring sitting snugly on his right ring finger. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord. My name is Y/N.”

Mattheo extended your hand up to his mouth and placed a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. The coolness of his lips against your skin sent shivers up your spine. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/N,” he purred. “And please, call me Mattheo.”

With a sly smile, you swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray and handed it to your newfound companion. Mattheo took a graceful sip, his intense gaze drinking you in.

“What brings you up here tonight, Mattheo?” You gestured to the lower level of the club where the atmosphere shifted into a hedonistic maelstrom. “Surely you would much rather partake in the revelries happening down there.”

Mattheo leaned closer and the strong scent of cinnamon and tobacco enveloped you from all sides. “Something tells me that the main event is right here,” he whispered as he caged you against the banister until all you could see, feel, and hear was him. “With you.”

Unperturbed, you flashed him a seductive grin. “Smart and handsome,” you quipped as you smoothed the lapels of his velvet suit jacket. Mattheo trailed your touch with that intense gaze, his eyes following a path down the hard plane of his chest, which was exposed beneath an unbuttoned black dress shirt. The silver cross chain around his neck glimmered underneath the dim club lights. “Perhaps I’ve found the cure to my perpetual boredom.”

“If you’re bored, then you’re more than welcome to play with me.”

You raised a perfectly manicured brow. “Is that a proposition, my lord?”

Mattheo was the perfect picture of sensuality as he closed the gap between you. “Not the type that you think,” he murmured softly. “After all, I am a gentleman so I intend to do this properly with you.”

You raised your chin defiantly. “I can be proper.”

His dark chuckle caressed your skin. “Somehow I doubt that,” Mattheo gibed. “Be that as it may, my offer is quite simple. I request your company for dinner tomorrow evening at my estate.”

“For what purpose?”

“I would like to get to know you,” Mattheo explained. “Preferably without the smoke and mirrors of this place. You’ll find that I’m a simple man with simple taste. I do not require such pageantry. What I want is the pleasure of your company over dinner and drinks.”

“A date?” You reiterated with intrigue. “That’s not the way we do things around here.”

Mattheo smiled. “I have a feeling you’ll make an exception for me, love.”

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“I intrigue you,” he simply stated. “I am a complete mystery to you. A puzzle of sorts. You like to solve puzzles. All you have to do to find the missing piece is accept.”

“If I do,” you proposed in a neutral tone, your gaze flickering up to this magnanimous man. “Will I finally have the full picture of who you are, Lord Riddle?”

Mattheo bowed and kissed your hand once more. “Come and find out, love.”

The wrought iron gates creaked as the carriage rounded the Riddle Estate. The ancestral home was imposing, its pointed arches and towering spires looming ominously against the backdrop of the full moon. The lawn was meticulously maintained, every hedge trimmed and shaped to perfection.

The carriage came to a stop in front of an ornately carved wooden door. You thanked the coachman and climbed the steps one by one, careful not to step on your scarlet silk dress. As if on cue, the doors opened of its own accord. A servant awaited you inside, his stern expression fixed as he welcomed you into the home.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N,” he rasped out. “Lord Riddle awaits you on the terrace. Follow me, please.”

“Thank you for having me,” you said graciously as he led you through the luxurious home. You took a moment to appreciate the intricate artwork that lined the walls. “The estate is quite beautiful. From what I understand, this place holds a lot of history. Everything has been preserved from when the Prince resided here. Is that correct?”

The man’s expression transformed from indifference to delight. “Before it became the Riddle Estate, this ancestral home was called Carfax. To honor its history, the Riddles have maintained the furnishings in its original state from when the Prince first purchased the property in the nineteenth century.”

“Lord Riddle is quite right to do so,” you said in admiration. “There’s a certain melancholy to this place that I find quite charming.” The man nodded in appreciation. “Haunting, even.”

“The only thing that haunts these four walls now are me,” Mattheo said when you reached the terrace. His dimpled smile was as charming and haunting as his home. “Thank you for guiding Miss Y/N, Nigel. That’ll be all for the night.”

You curtsied as the man called Nigel bowed. “Have a lovely evening, Miss Y/N,” Nigel said in parting. “Perhaps I may give you a tour of this grand home and discuss its historic importance when my lord allows it.”

“That would be lovely,” you accepted with a smile. “Thank you, Nigel.”

Mattheo watched in amusement, his brows quirking as he watched the man depart. “I’m impressed,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ve managed to charm Nigel. I haven’t seen him smile in decades.”

“I’ve been told I have a certain appeal.”

“Speaking of,” Mattheo drawled as he surveyed you. His gaze snagged on where the silk accentuated your curves. “You look quite ravishing tonight.”

You allowed a demure smile as you discretely scrutinized him. “I could say the same of you.”

In all honesty, ravishing might be an understatement when it came to Mattheo. The silk button down he donned tonight was as dark as sin. At first, you thought it was black until the candlelight flickered through the fabric. Then you realized that it was a crimson so dark it appeared onyx like dried blood. His trousers were black and neatly pressed and on his feet were expensive leather shoes. The same cross chain dangled from his neck, disappearing underneath his shirt. You desperately wanted to trace it with your tongue.

Mattheo rested his gloved hand on your lower back, guiding you gently to your seat. “You’re just in time,” he said in a pleased tone. “Dinner is ready.”

As you settled into your seat, you had to admit that this wasn’t at all what you expected. You envisioned a grand and ostentatious six course meal served by servants while you and Mattheo were seated on opposite ends of an expensive mahogany table. In comparison, this was intimate and cozy. You were surprised to find that you preferred this much more.

Dinner was a delicious serving of filet mignon, asparagus, and parmesan crusted potatoes that Mattheo served you himself. It was better than any meal you had ever had. To top it off, the wine he paired with the food was a rich vintage that was probably older than both of you combined.

The conversation flowed easily between you. Mattheo was curious about you and asked questions at any given opportunity. He wanted to know your hobbies, your friends, your aspirations. It was more than anyone had ever inquired about you in a long time.

“How did you come to work for the club?”

You tensed at the question, but smoothly brushed over the reaction with a sip of wine. “My father was an alcoholic and a gambler. The drunker he got, the higher he bet. Unfortunately, luck never seemed to be on his side. One day, he lost a bet against a very powerful man. My father was given three days to repay his debt. Failure to do so would mean forfeiting his life. When I was eight, he sold me to the Madam and the rest is history.”

Mattheo listened intently, captivated by your story. There wasn’t a hint of pity in his eyes, which you appreciated. You hated when people treated you like some broken little bird. The story wasn’t meant to elicit sympathy. It was a shitty thing, yes. But shitty things happened all the time.

Even to little girls who didn’t deserve it.

The fact of the matter was that you were the most influential courtesan in London while your father had drank himself into an early grave. You had accomplished more than he ever did in his sorry life. Because of him, you learned to read men with pinpoint accuracy so you would never be at one’s mercy again.

“Did your father ever show remorse for what he had done?” Mattheo asked curiously.

You snorted. “That would require him to have a conscience. Besides, I neither want nor need his remorse. He died the way that he lived — drowning in liquor and debt.”

“And the powerful man?”

“Six feet under,” you declared nonchalantly. The governor was the first in a long line of men that met their demise by your hand. “May his soul burn in hell."

Dark eyes sparked with understanding. In the light, they almost looked crimson. “Who would be so bold to execute such a powerful man?”

“A little girl with a grudge.”

Pleased, Mattheo kissed your knuckles. He cleared the plates away and beckoned you to follow him. “Come, love. I want to show you something.”

You followed Mattheo back into his home and walked through a maze of floors and hallways before you reached the west wing of the estate. He pushed open a heavy wooden door and led you into what looked like an office. Despite the extravagance of the rest of the house, the office was simple yet elegant.

Crimson curtains reflected the moonlight, a breeze rippling through them like a phantom wind. Artifacts and artwork littered every corner of the room, including the mahogany desk positioned against the back wall. Important documents were arranged in organized stacks, but beside them were sketches and drawings of varying shape and color.

“Everything there is to know about me is in this room,” Mattheo explained. “You said you wanted a full picture of me, so I’m giving you what I promised.”

The part of you that harbored mistrust was alarmed by his openness. “Why?”

“To show you that I am true to my word. I will always be true to my word,” he emphasized. “Especially when it comes to you.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Your madam told me about a special talent of yours.”

“I wouldn’t call it a talent. I’m just terribly observant. If you know where to look, most people are an open book.”

Mattheo fixed his gaze on you. “Read me then, love.”

“Most men can’t handle the truth.”

“I’m not like most men.”

Between the lines, the true meaning of his statement revealed itself. This room was the very core of who he was and now he was inviting you in. Mattheo was putting himself wholly and utterly at your mercy. To scrutinize, to inspect, to judge. He knew how important it was for you to have the upper hand and he was willingly offering it to you.

In silent acceptance, you surveyed the room with unveiled scrutiny. Your gaze snagged on a few interesting things. The family crest stamped on official documents. The trinkets and tokens originating from all around the world. The stoic portrait sitting above the mantelpiece. The picture of a dark haired boy that bore a great resemblance to the man before you peeking out from a discarded album.

They all contained a piece of the puzzle that was Mattheo Riddle.

“You’re wealthy, but not in the same sense that the rest of the club’s clientele are. You hail from old money, the type of generational wealth that most likely traces back to nobility. You’re well traveled and highly intellectual. You pick up interests left and right and you’ve probably studied at a handful of prestigious universities around the world, but you can never stick to just one topic. You have an older sibling that you have a very complicated relationship with. You’re guarded and extremely selective about the people you let in because you’re afraid of showing them the man beneath the mask. You don’t want control. You need it. Probably because you’ve felt out of control your whole life.”

“That’s a clever trick,” Mattheo drawled as he appeared in front of you in the blink of an eye. You sucked in a breath as he pressed you against the wooden desk, resting his hands above your waist. “Is that all your instincts tell you about me?”

“You say that you aren’t like most men, because you aren’t a man at all. You’re something else entirely. Something dark. Something dangerous.”

Red eyes glimmered underneath the moonlight. “What am I?” Mattheo rasped as he pressed his hips against yours. “Tell me, love.”

You held your chin high and looked him in the eyes. “You’re a vampire.”

The mask slipped as Mattheo transformed before you. His eyes were as red as blood, dark veins forming on his pale skin. You gasped when his canines elongated, sharp and lethal and deadly. He could probably drain you of life and you wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.

“How did you figure it out?”

“You wear gloves because your skin is as cold as ice, your eyes are crimson in certain lights, and you speak like you’ve lived a thousand different lives. Plus, you’ve been staring at my neck all night like you’re just waiting for the chance to sink your teeth in.”

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

“You should be,” Mattheo drawled. “I have lived for five hundred years and never once have I experienced bloodlust like this in all of my existence. Your blood calls to me. I knew it from the first night I laid my eyes on you.”

The admission should have frightened you, but instead in some strange way you understood. On any other occasion, you never would have allowed yourself to be alone in a strange home with a strange man, but for some reason, you felt compelled to accept. Whether by fate or kismet or destiny, you knew that you were meant to be here tonight.

Mattheo caressed your throat and buried his nose in the crook of your neck to inhale the heavenly scent. “Tell me love,” he rasped, his voice rough and gravelly. “What do you desire most in life?”

There was no hesitation in your voice when you spoke. “Power.”

“I could give that to you,” Mattheo promised. “I could give you power beyond what you could ever imagine. All you have to do is say yes.”

“What are you asking for in exchange?”

“You,” Mattheo said simply. “I want you. Bind yourself to me and you will never feel powerless again. I will worship you like the goddess that you are. I will devote myself to you for eternity. I will be yours and you will be mine.”

“You want me to be your consort?”

Dark eyes flickered with desire. “No, darling,” he purred smoothly. “I want you to be my equal. Equal in wealth, equal in beauty, equal in power.”

The idea thrilled you. Being an influential courtesan was one thing, but becoming an immortal vampire with immense riches and power would provide security that not even the Madam could offer. You thought about the little girl that you were — scared and helpless as your father ripped you away from the only life you’d ever known. If you accepted Mattheo’s offer, you would never have to feel that way again. You would be untouchable.

"Why me?"

"Because you are beautiful and bloodthirsty. Because you are clever and cunning. Because you clawed your way into a better future despite the pull of the past," Mattheo declared with certainty. "Because in all my existence, I have never met anyone quite like you."

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Sharp fangs caressed your neck as Mattheo dragged his canines against your skin. “The pull between us. I never believed in the concept of mates, but even I could not deny the call of the bond. I have searched for you for centuries and I was not even aware of it until I finally found you.”

“Is that what it is?” Since that first night at the club, you had felt inexplicably drawn to Mattheo. Even then you knew it was more than attraction. It was like every fiber of your being yearned for him. “You’re my mate?”

Mattheo nodded. “Only if you accept the bond.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I accept.”

“I will have to turn you,” Mattheo explained carefully. “The ritual will be painful. I will drink of your blood and you will drink of mine. Once the venom courses through your veins, the pain will be excruciating, but I will be with you every step of the way.” He caressed your cheek, his expression softening. “Do you trust me, love?”

Strangely enough, you did. You knew that Mattheo would stay true to his word.

With a nod, the ritual began. Mattheo fisted your hair between his fingers and tilted your head back. He hummed against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses up the column of your throat before settling on a spot at the junction of your collarbone. His dark eyes flicked up to yours as his fangs elongated. Mattheo watched for signs of hesitation, but found none.

You gasped as he sank his teeth into your flesh, eyes fluttering shut as the sting of the bite took hold. Mattheo moaned as he drank your blood. The venom spread like wildfire in your veins, scorching your entire being from head to toe. It felt like your blood was boiling. You screamed as tremors rocked your body, phantom hands taking hold of your bones and breaking them over and over again. You screamed as the pain spread, but Mattheo stayed focused and retrieved a dagger from his desk drawer.

In one swift move, he cut his palm open and held it over your mouth. “Drink, my love,” Mattheo instructed. “It will ease the pain.”

Desperate, you lapped up Mattheo’s blood with urgency. The metallic taste filled your mouth, but you couldn’t help but drink deeper as it turned sweet and heady, tasting like wine on your tongue. The more you drank, the better you felt. It was almost as though his blood was the antidote to the pain.

“That’s it,” Mattheo murmured. “You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little more.” You sucked on his palm shamelessly, blood dripping down the front of your dress. “That’s a good girl.”

Mattheo wiped his blood from the corner of your mouth before crashing his lips against yours. You groaned as he pressed you against the desk, his hands gripping your waist while you kissed him back with equal fervor. Passion sparked between you as Mattheo scrambled to taste as much of you as he could.

His soft pants echoed in your ears as he desperately chased after your kisses, blood staining both of your mouths. A euphoric feeling washed over you like a wave, chasing the pain away and replacing it with a surge of pleasure. Every touch felt heightened, your senses shifting into overdrive as Mattheo pulled away.

You whined at the loss, which made him grin apologetically. “The ritual isn’t complete yet, my love.”

Mattheo flipped the dagger in his hand and beckoned you over to the middle of the room. He pulled out the expensive rug and carelessly tossed it aside before kneeling on the wooden floorboards. You mirrored the gesture and watched as Mattheo pulled you against him, placing the dagger in your hand. He produced a grimoire and skimmed through the pages until he found the right one.

“We must draw the ancient bonding runes,” Mattheo explained as he pointed at the carvings illustrated on the grimoire. “They will signify our eternal union. Once we carve them, there’s no going back.”

You gripped the dagger tightly. “Together?”

Mattheo smiled. “Together, my love.”

Carefully, the two of you carved the runes into the floor. The carvings glowed as mist and fog rose up from the wooden floorboards. You shivered as the temperature dropped, an eerie wind blowing through the crimson curtains. As you finished the last rune, you and Mattheo turned to face each other.

Blood stained his hand as he reached up to caress your cheek, his eyes black with desire. You could feel the ritual sinking into your bones, changing the very core of your being. The bond physically took hold as the connection stretched taut between the two of you. The scarlet string glowed and the end of your thread reached towards Mattheo.

“What do we do now?”

Mattheo’s fiery gaze flickered up to you. “Now we consummate the union.”

Your breathing slowed as Mattheo drew you close, his face mere inches away from yours. Desire burned through you like a living flame. At that moment, nothing existed but him.

“I want you, Mattheo,” you breathed. “My mate.”

You groaned as Mattheo kissed you deeply, his hands finding refuge in your hips. The taste of him was intoxicating, sweeter than any wine you had ever consumed. You groaned as he parted your lips with his tongue and placed you over his lap. The kisses grew desperate, like you couldn’t get enough of one another. Mattheo pulled down the straps of your dress, kissing every inch of skin he had access to.

“Let me worship you like you deserve,” he murmured in reverence.

His eyes remained fixated on you as he laid you atop the runes, its glow bathing both of you in scarlet light. Mattheo took his time lavishing your body with kisses, marking every inch of you with his mouth. You moaned as his dark head disappeared between your legs, his sharp canines tickling the inside of your thighs. He took your lace panties off with his teeth and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

The anticipation was almost too much to bear until Mattheo finally put his mouth on you. He eagerly feasted, his hunger evident in the way he buried his tongue in your cunt. You tugged at his curls as he licked and sucked, lapping up your arousal with unbroken focus. When his tongue flicked over your clit, you bucked against his mouth and shamelessly moaned his name.

“You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N,” Mattheo declared.

The sight of him between your thighs, his mouth dripping with blood and cum while his eyes burned with carnal passion was enough to send you over the edge, but you didn’t want to come without him. You wanted to do this right. You wanted to do this together.

“I need you,” you pleaded as you tugged at his belt. “Please, Mattheo.”

“You never have to beg,” Mattheo answered as he undressed. “I’m yours, Y/N.”

With bated breath, you watched in anticipation as Mattheo crawled over you, his gaze wild and hungry. He groaned when you tugged him down by his curls, his mouth meeting yours in a heated frenzy. His hard length pressed against your center as you parted your legs for him, greedily wrapping them around his waist while you grinded deliciously against his cock.

The friction was divine, but you needed more. So much more. Mattheo growled into your mouth as he guided your hand towards his impressive length, chuckling softly when your eyes widened at his size. Crimson bled into soft chocolate eyes as Mattheo lined himself up at your entrance.

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he whispered in reverence as he traced your jaw. “I have waited for you for centuries and it was worth every second.”

You whimpered as he eased into you, his cock stretching your walls as you adjusted to his length. Praises flowed from Mattheo’s mouth as he pushed inside, giving you inch after inch until he was fully sheathed in your pussy. The pressure was painful at first, but it soon gave way to pleasure.

“I feel so full,” you groaned as Mattheo kissed your neck. “So full of you, Mattheo.”

“Is it as heavenly for you as it is for me, love?”

In response, you secured your legs around his waist and pushed him in further, making the both of you moan in satisfaction.

“Does that answer your question?”

A cheeky grin appeared on Mattheo’s handsome face. “You’re absolutely sinful, but don’t get too cocky. I’m going to ruin you for every other man.”

“You already have,” you responded as Mattheo moved slowly, dragging his cock in and out of you until you actually whined from the absence. “No man could ever measure up. There is no one like you, Mattheo.”

The declaration seemed to unleash something inside of Mattheo. His movements, once slow and calculated, turned frenzied and frantic. His hands were all over your body, his fangs dragging up the column of your throat while his form enveloped you whole until you couldn’t tell where you began and where he ended.

You matched his rhythm, rocking your hips to the frenetic pace. Mattheo hissed as you clawed at his back and slammed harder into you, seeming to know exactly what you needed without you speaking it into existence. The ancient runes glowed and your blood hummed in agreement, accepting the final binding of the ritual.

“Do you feel that, love?” Mattheo grunted, his sweat matted curls plastered to his forehead. “That’s my power flowing into you. With it, you will be unstoppable.”

Your back arched against the floor as energy surged through your veins, electrifying every cell in your body. The scarlet thread between you and Mattheo twined itself into an unbreakable connection, connecting your mind, body, and soul together.

A shiver skittered down your spine as you looked into a pair of crimson eyes. “We will be unstoppable. My mate, my love, my Y/N.”

The pleasure was overwhelming. You tugged Mattheo down to you, panting into his mouth as you kissed him. “So close,” you breathed. “I’m so close.”

Your gums ached as fangs began to elongate from your mouth. Mattheo watched proudly, his handsome face bathed in awe at the transformation.

“Surrender to it,” he whispered softly. “Bite me, my love.”

The words gave you pause, but as soon as he spoke them, hunger and bloodlust seemed to awaken in your veins.

“Drink from my blood,” Mattheo encouraged. “Mark me. Claim me. Devour me.”

Without hesitation, you sank your teeth into the side of his neck. The thirst was unquenchable and you drank deeply, greedy for the taste of his blood. Mattheo’s hips stuttered as he moaned erotically, his release close.

“That’s it, Y/N.” Mattheo encouraged as blood dribbled down his neck. His fingers swiped over your clit, rubbing stimulating circles and making you feel untethered. “Surrender yourself to me completely. Come for me, my love.”

A whip of lightning lashed at your body, searing you from head to toe as you toppled over the edge. The orgasm was white and blinding, seizing your very being with pleasure. Mattheo kissed you through the comedown, letting you ride it out as you clawed at his back and arms.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “Watch the way you undo me.”

Mattheo was a man ruined. As soon as your gazes met, he threw his head back and roared in pleasure. The way he looked when he came, perfect curls mussed and sex tousled, abs straining as he emptied himself inside of you, and mouth open as your name left his lips, was something that would be ingrained into your mind for the rest of time.

The bond settled between you then, signaling the completion of the ritual. You were now connected to Mattheo in every way possible. The courtesan who once vowed never to give herself to a man now found herself bonded.

Mattheo embraced you in his arms, holding you close. You pressed your cheek against his solid chest and found comfort in his touch.

“What happens now?”

“I devour you again and again,” Mattheo responded cheekily. “And once more before the sun rises."

You chuckled softly. “After that?”

“You decide, my love.” He declared with no qualms. “You are in control of your story now.”

“And if I said the little girl with the grudge wanted to burn the whole world down?”

Crimson eyes met yours. “Then I’ll help her light the match.”

Mattheo meant it. You knew it in your very bones. With a smile, you settled into his arms. Feeling safe. Feeling loved. Feeling like you could rule the world. He gave you that. Your mate.

As your eyes fluttered close, one thought flashed through your once cynical mind.

Perhaps sex wasn’t always about power.

Perhaps, on rare occasions, sex was about so much more.

#I will definitely be writing about vampire mattheo more he was made for this #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo x you

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lightseoul · 4 months ago

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cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (squint harder y'all), a lot of cussing (wouldn't be a bkg fic w/o 'em), reader has an ex-boyfriend, our boy kiri finally makes an appearance

words. 2.7k (i had to stop my head was aching)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

If you were to suddenly rise to fame overnight, for what reason would it be?

The answer you’ve always had for these silly icebreaker questions was simple. That one passion you’ve nurtured as a hobby, perhaps? Or the hidden talent—party trick, really—that your friends always goaded you into demonstrating during get-togethers? Or it could be getting recognized for the work that you do and how much of your soul you put into it.

Really, it could have easily been any of the three.

Which is why you couldn’t have seen this reality hurling straight at you even if it was waving a shining red flag at you from a safe distance.

You adjust the face mask that’s snug against your cheeks for the umpteenth time, vaguely aware of the child seated in front of you who’s also staring like he’s trying to make out who you’re supposed to be under the barrier.

Tamping down the annoyance springing in your gut over a kid occupying a precious chair in this crowded subway train during rush hour, you shift on your feet and tug down with your extra hand the hat that you quickly threw on on your way out this morning.

It was the least you could do after unceremoniously finding out through your best friend at 5:37 AM that you’ve become one of the Internet’s sensational hits overnight, now being dubbed as #2 Pro-hero Bakugou Katsuki’s heavy-handed girlfriend, emphasis on the heavy.

Needless to say, the news sent you into panic and you couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how hard you tried. Your emotions and thoughts went into overdrive, and you found yourself at the crack of dawn mulling over the options you had in front of you.

You knew you were grasping for straws when you started thinking about stealing someone else’s identity and moving far, far away from Japan where the concepts of pro-heroes and the World Wide Web were unbeknownst to the living population.

That pipeline got you nowhere.

Which leads you to the present: decked out in a flimsy disguise, horridly sleep-deprived, anxious as hell, squished between late salarymen and chatty high schoolers in a cramped train carriage, and subject to the increasingly scrutinizing stare of this kid in front of you.

To your relief, you arrive at your station before the child can put two and two together and expose you to the rest of the crowd. You quickly shuffle out and expertly weave yourself through the sea of people, desperate to get out of the public space and into the safety of Ground Riot agency.

Though your imagined bubble of safety is immediately popped the moment you enter the building and feel what has to be dozens of pairs of eyes on you.

You hurriedly scan your employee ID and head for the elevators, heaving a relieved sigh when no one follows you into the space.

It’s barely 8 AM, and you’re already drenched in sweat. You’re in the middle of wondering if you’re already sporting a fucking pit stain when your phone chimes its familiar tune, signifying a text message.

You peek at the notification banner to see Bakugou’s name, alongside a short directive.

(7:51 AM) Bakugou (Dynamight): Conference Room A—be there in 10. PR and the rest want to see both of us.

Fuck.

The room’s not empty by the time you stumble in seven minutes later. Hiramasa Hikari, your direct subordinate in charge of employee relations, is seated on one of the comfy office chairs circling the long, oval table, looking indubitably harrowed as she thumbs through an all-too-familiar booklet.

Wordlessly, you walk towards where she is and plop yourself down on the seat across from her, right on the side of the end-of-the-table throne where Bakugou usually plants his butt during meetings.

You might have moved a little too silently because she startles when she looks up and sees you looking at her like you don’t know what to say.

Because you don’t.

Instead, you flash her an uneasy smile, which she returns right back. Although it morphs into a frown, “I’m guessing we both recognize how comical the situation is right now?”

At that, both of your gazes drift to the said document, conveniently titled ‘Workplace Relationships: Policies and Protocols,’ with your name written underneath as one of the principal authors.

You purse your lips into a tight line, suddenly feeling the tiniest bit of shame spurring in your gut.

You wouldn’t call yourself militant when it comes to carrying out rules and regulations related to your job, but being on the receiving end of a lecture regarding workplace relationships is—for the lack of a better term—humbling.

Even if the whole thing that led you here is fake.

Before you can stutter out an appropriately vague enough response to your colleague, the glass doors open like flood gates and in comes Bakugou in his hero costume, followed by Mikuri (the PR head you’ve talked about during your meltdown), and a group of coworkers who you’ve identified as a portion of the agency’s legal team.

You and Hikari stand up at their arrival, and sure enough, Bakugou pulls out the seat to your right, barely sparing you a glance as he situates himself.

The rest quickly follow suit, the atmosphere so tense you could cut it with a meat cleaver.

Nobody says anything for a while before Hikari clears her throat awkwardly, evidently feeling self-conscious over speaking in front of her higher-ups. “I guess I can start, then?”

You give her an encouraging nod as if you’re not about to be roasted by the very same girl you’ve been training directly since she got recruited two years ago.

Hikari clears her throat again before fixing her firm gaze on you. “It has come to our attention that multiple news articles have been circulating since last night,” she pauses as her eyes dart between you and Bakugou, “about the two of you.”

A pregnant pause.

“…Care to explain?”

You can’t believe it. You’re about to expose yourself and this embarrassing stunt you pulled. And you can’t help the dread that courses through your system at the thought of admitting out loud how you roped in your boss, of all people, to pretend as your date so that you could hide from the ex who dumped you over the phone how much of a loser you are.

How much a loser you’ve become, the present moment in mind.

It couldn’t get any more pitiful than that.

But you have to face the truth, and you realize that time is running out fast as you survey the expectant looks directed at you one by one as if everything’s in slow motion.

Finally, you open your mouth to blurt it out and get it over with, but Bakugou beats you to it.

In fact, he doesn’t miss a beat.

Which is fucking astounding, because what he’s about to say next quite literally causes your jaw to drop.

“We’re dating,” he states, voice even. “There’s your explanation.”

The exact moment he says that outright, blatant lie, it’s like all the air in the conference room gets sucked into a vacuum. You find yourself feeling lightheaded and it takes everything in you not to collapse like a boneless heap on the lawyer beside you. You think Bakugou notices because his eyes shift to look at you, and his eyebrows furrow so minutely as if he’s telepathically saying ‘Get it together.’

And so you do.

You don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking, lying like this to the very people who need to know the truth to effectively clean up the mess you’ve inadvertently made in just one Sunday, but at this point, you know better than to contradict Bakugou’s words.

“We’re dating,” you parrot, voice wobbly, “…yes.”

You will yourself to look up from the clasped hands on your lap, only to immediately regret it. Some of the members of the legal team are staring at either Bakugou and you with straight-up disbelief, while the others toss you a playful wink. Hikari, Mikuri, and Sawamura, the lead lawyer, however, look unsettled at best.

“Since when,” Sawamura starts, although he sort of chokes on his spit. He clears his throat, “—since when has this been happening?”

The pro-hero’s reply is almost instantaneous. “Why the fuck would I tell you that?”

Ignoring Bakugou’s defensive retort, you instead jump in to respond as calmly as you can. “Around two months ago. When we worked late nights on that issue under Hikari’s unit. We, uh—” you chance a glance at Bakugou, who’s looking at you intently, “—we were actually planning to disclose it to HR today, if you can believe that.”

“And you punching the groom at the wedding you attended,” Mikuri suddenly adds, voice pointed. “Was that part of the plan, too?”

At the reminder of your act of sin, you visibly cringe in front of your colleagues. You hear Hikari hold back a snort, and you flush further in embarrassment.

To your surprise, Bakugou speaks up. “That was her dickhead of an ex, and he was being an asshole to her.” He grunts, “She was only defending her name.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gawk at the man. The last thing you expected was for him to defend you. And so sincerely, at that. He could be a great actor.

“Well, regardless of the intentions, we have to deal with the act and its resulting consequences,” Sawamura sighs, before turning to face you. “We already briefed Bakugou on the way here but the guy and his family are threatening to sue for damages.”

“S-sue?” you choke out.

Mikuri nods solemnly in response. “I know Bakugou here wants to fight fire with fire by exposing the guy’s character but we believe it’s best to keep things as hush-hush as possible to prevent any more repercussions on his general popularity rating.” She gives you a once-over, “Would that be okay with you?”

You barely manage a nod, although she seemingly finds it more than enough.

“We’ve since been in contact with their lawyer and are on our way to a settlement,” the head lawyer packs on. “We’re scheduled to meet them in,” he checks his sports watch, “two hours.”

“In the meantime,” Mikuri interjects, “we might suggest you stay off your non-essential social media sites as we wait for the issue to die down.”

You nod again, failing to repress a weak laugh at the belated advice. “Don’t worry, I’m already on that.”

“In fact,” you quickly add before anyone else can interrupt you, “So much so that I don’t know what the hell is going on out there. How is Bakugou fairing in the ranks right now?”

Again, you feel the said man eyeing your side profile.

Mikuri cocks her head to the side in reflection, “Surprisingly, he’s holding up okay. We’ve had a marked increase in activity from the adolescent to young adult female demographic especially, but they’re all mixed reviews.”

At that, Bakugou sneers. “What am I, a fucking movie for these extras to rate?”

You snort, and now you see Bakugou side-eye you, although there’s no bite to it.

“Anyway,” Sawamura interjects, “That’s more or less it from us and PR as well, I believe. We’ll keep you both posted.” The man glances at Hikari, “Hiramasa-san, anything else from your department?”

“Oh, yes,” she quickly riffles through her documents before settling on the booklet from earlier and timidly handing it to Bakugou, who accepts it gingerly. “My supervisor here knows the guidebook by heart so you two should be good in keeping yourselves in check.”

Her eyes quickly dart to you as if to watch your reaction before they just as quickly dart back to Bakugou. “But just to reiterate, we strive to keep everything professional here at Ground Riot agency, so that means drawing a clear boundary between your work and personal lives. That also means no inappropriate PDA.”

“Tch.”

You gulp, feeling all sorts of weird all of a sudden. Accidentally demonstrating PDA with Bakugou should be the least of your worries but there’s no denying the pulse of anxiety that resonates at the mention of it.

After you and Bakugou begrudgingly agree to the terms and conditions, the meeting finally gets adjourned and your workmates pile out of the room one by one. You don’t realize how tense your shoulders are until you’re left alone with Bakugou, and you allow yourself one deep exhale.

Your boss, who’s still sporting a sour expression on his face, shifts his attention to you at the sound. You feel yourself shrink in a bit under his penetrating gaze, although you try to straighten your spine soon thereafter.

You take a few steps towards the doorway and peek through the hall for any bystanders. Once sure that you’re most definitely alone, you turn to Bakugou. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s not looking at you but his eyebrows furrow still, revealing his listening. He doesn’t say anything, though.

You continue. “It’s obviously bothering you that we’re keeping up this charade. Never mind your ranking potentially slipping, what about the stress of having to pretend and hearing people talk? You don’t need that on top of—”

“I don’t give a single fuck what people say about me.”

You knew that, yet you still frown at his tone. “But you give a fuck about being number one.”

At that, Bakugou finally moves to face you. “Look, I hate that I have to say this, but even if I had no dating scandal affecting my popularity rating, good or bad, all this doesn’t make a difference in helping me get past shitty De– Izuku, at least in a way that matters.”

He huffs before looking away to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “That popularity shit’s out of my control and has nothing to do with my abilities. The other metrics are.”

As you gaze at his back, you think about how image is in fact important when it comes to being the ultimate hero—mind drifting back to All Might and how he served as the pinnacle of safety with his powers and impactful symbolism. But then it gravitates to Endeavor and how, despite his far from amiable personality akin to that of Bakugou’s, he earned the people’s trust in his own way as the new #1 upon All Might’s retirement.

“Okay,” you exhale again, “I believe you. Still doesn’t explain why you seem so bothered, though.”

Bakugou immediately whips around to look at you, frustration etched on his pretty features. “Why did that jackass even invite you in the first place?”

That’s what’s bothering him?

You chuckle, although what you’re about to say probably isn’t a laughing matter. “I think it’s because he saw me as a charity case,” you pause, debating whether or not to tell him the embarrassing truth, eventually opting to do so. “He always made me feel like I should thank my lucky stars I scored him, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was doing me a favor by inviting me to his wedding.”

“…You know you can do better than that dipshit, right?”

You smile despite yourself, “I know… That’s why I’m dating you, right?”

You only meant to lighten the mood after what has been a grueling, impromptu meeting, but you didn’t expect Bakugou to redden in what you think is annoyance at the innocent quip.

You immediately backtrack. “I was just—trying to, uh—’m just joking around…”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to potentially snap at you in irritation because Kirishima, Red Riot, waltzes in with a big, toothy grin on his face.

He beams at you then turns to regard his best friend, grin growing even more in size as if that was still possible.

And what he says next confuses the shit out of you and grants him a hard shove from your now fake boyfriend.

“Congrats, Bakubro! Freaking finally!”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are much appreciated <3 they really do make a difference! have a lovely day~

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scififettuccine · 8 months ago

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maybe a frenchie x supe!reader? there’s not enough frenchie fics out there! like maybe they don’t get along but they’re forced to work together?

A Wild Fix: Part 1

Pairing: Frenchie x Reader

Summary: You, Wild Card, a 27 year old Supe newly signed by Vought, are recruited by Billy Butcher following an incident in Vought Tower. With the help of The Boys, you vow to destroy the corrupt system that wronged so many. But will your mission be tainted by your constant bickering with one of your new team members?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, drug use, Homelander (Obviously), mentions of drug use, questionable French

Notes: I absolutely LOVED this request. I slept on it once I saw it because I had so many ideas and I didn't know where to start...but my goal is going to be a 3-5 part series! I'm going to try my best to keep each part under 2k, maybe 1.5k each? No gender was specified in the request so I'm gonna keep it as a GN reader!

From the outside...Vought as a whole seemed like the shiny pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that every Supe had striven for since the company's creation. But you? You knew the truth. Only 24 hours into your career as a member of The Seven, you had been subjected to more violence than you expected from a group that was supposedly supposed to save people. Your first meeting with the rest of the group had gone south quickly once you questioned one of Homelanders statements, and stood your ground when he told you to back down. Before you could even blink, you were pinned against the wall, with a firm hand pressed against your neck, constricting your breathing. In that moment, you understood that being compliant was the only thing that would secure your status as living. So that's what you did, you nodded your head and said “yes sir.” Needless to say, you left that room with the fear of god, no, the fear of The Homelander, choked into you…But you knew you couldn’t sleep here. So you booked a hotel room for the night, hoping maybe the receptionist wouldn't notice the bruises on your neck.But while you walked there, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged yourself to keep the cool night air out of your jacket, you were approached by a man named Billy Butcher. The two of you had a lengthy conversation outside of the hotel regarding the truth behind Homelander, The Seven, and Vought as a whole. Then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: a chance to get back at Homelander. A chance to bring yourself justice, as well as bring justice to the others he had hurt in his desperate pursuit of ultimate power. Of course…you agreed.

You had kept in touch with Butcher the following week on a burner phone he had given you, knowing that Vought had most likely bugged all of your personal technology…and on your next day off? You met him at a location that was unknown to you, one you would soon come to be familiar with. As he ushered you down the wooden stairs of the unknown building, you weren't met with the most reassuring of environments. Drug paraphernalia, along with various illegal weapons, and full ammo boxes littered the expanse of the rather unwelcoming looking hideout. You stopped at the bottom step and pointed to a literal stack of plastic bags containing what you could only assume was coke.

“That’s…” you swallowed, “That’s coke.” Butcher, who had been guiding you down the stairs with his hand on your lower back, laughed and shook his head.

“That’s right, love. Bags of coke.” Billy said with a small chuckle as he patted your back and stepped onto the broken concrete floor of the basement, greeting the others that inhabited the space. The first person you noticed was a rather lengthy looking young man who looked to be around the same age as you with slightly curly brown hair. Admittedly, you thought he dressed like a twelve year old. He was seated on a questionable looking couch, next to an older man with a bigger build and a darker complexion…who looked like he could snap you in half with little to no effort. Your gaze then flickered further into the room, and your gaze landed on a man who was around the same height as you. Not exactly tall…but not short either. The man in question had a buzz cut, a piercing on his left ear, and was wearing an orange and black tie-dyed shirt, along with cargo pants. He was seated on one of the tables that housed various pieces of drug paraphernalia, and was seemingly using a business card to arrange lines of coke on the back of an old phone book that sat on his lap.

“Well boys…here they are. This is Y/N L/N.” Butcher interrupted your silent evaluation as he addressed the room. He walked back to your side and put a hand on your shoulder, moving to point to the younger man on the couch. “That poor bastard there is Hughie,” he moved to the man next to him, “that's MM,” and finally…he pointed to the man sitting on the table. “That’s Frenchie.” Frenchie pulled his head away from the phonebook, white power dusted on his nose.

“Bonjour-” He said, cutting himself off with a sniffle as he wiped the coke from his nose. Oh, that's why they called him Frenchie. You narrowed your eyes, the greetings of the two other men falling on deaf ears as you looked Frenchie over. Clearly something important had been said during the duration of your staring, because you were knocked out of your thoughts by a firm nudge to the shoulder by Butcher.

“Oi, Hellen Keller! Are you up for it or not?” Butcher asked. He realized you hadn’t heard him and narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “We’re going to meet up with an info plug…You can either come or stay here with Frenchie.” You sort of just panicked and blurted out an answer, not wanting to ask any dumb questions about the info plug.

“I’ll stay…with uh, Frenchie.” You said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You weren’t an overly judgy person, you really weren't…but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation regarding staying alone with a man who had done coke off the back of a dirty phone book within the first minute of you meeting him. Butcher smirked when he saw the look of regret on your face.

“Right then. We’ll be back, love.” He said, gesturing for Hughie and MM to follow him out. “Make yourself at home.” With that, the three made their way up the stairs, leaving you alone with Frenchie. You took the moment of awkward silence that followed them leaving to look around the basement, your feet glued to the floor of course. The walls of the space were composed of a skeleton made of wooden posts, which were filled in with a mixture of red brick, and the same color of concrete that the floor was made of. The walls in question were littered with spray painted tags of many different colors, most of which you couldn’t read, due to the fact that they were in a different language, but they were oddly beautiful nonetheless. The lighting in the room, just a few hanging light bulbs, added to the strange ambiance of the room.

“You are Wild Card…Yes?” The silence was broken by Frenchie, who was still sitting on the table, but now facing your direction. You turned to him and nodded, albeit awkwardly.

“Yeah…Yeah. That's me. Just call me Y/N, though.” You said, trying your best to give a convincing smile.

“Y/N…” He nodded as he repeated your name, “Oui. A good name.” He looked at you for a moment, almost waiting for you to respond. When you didn't, he pursed his lips and blinked. “Remind me, Y/N…What are your powers exactly?” You sighed when he asked that. It was always strange explaining what exactly your powers were.

You were called Wild Card for a reason. While you were powerful…using your powers was sort of like playing a game of russian roulette, only with the gun pointed towards the other person. You could do a multitude of different things, along with the constant of your strength, speed, and agility. You could create different balls of explosive matter, you could manipulate and use the moisture present in the air for multiple different attacks, along with a few other niche things. The problem was…you never knew which would happen beforehand. All you could go off was the feeling you felt in your palms. You weren’t exactly the most reliable Supe abilities wise…but every one of your random attacks was extremely powerful, making you a good person to throw into the mix if things aren't going well for the rest of your team, which is why you were a valuable member to add to The Seven.

“Uhm…Have you ever played Uno before? Like the card game?” You asked. Frenchie nodded. “Well it’s kinda like when you put a wild card down in Uno, and you get to pick a color…Except you pick the color blindly.” Frenchie sort of stared at you for a moment, before he started laughing. You tensed up when you heard him laugh, but you tried to laugh along, due to the fact that you couldn’t tell if he was laughing with you or at you. “Forgive me, mon cher-” He stifled a laugh before continuing, “that is the silliest thing I've ever heard.” At that comment, you frowned, taking a step back even though you were across the room from each other.

“Silly? It’s not silly at all…I’m pretty powerful, all things considered-”

“But you just use it blindly?” He asked with a chuckle. “What happens when you want to shoot a fireball or something, but you summon a child’s teddy to your hand instead?” That ticked you off. Who the hell was he to insult your powers? He was a druggie, and didn't even have any.

“How can you sit there and insult me when you were doing lines off the back of a 30 year old phonebook when I walked in?” You asked, your words coming out a bit more spiteful than you had intended. Frenchie narrowed his eyes, but tried to shake off his anger. He wasn’t fond of fighting with people over small things, especially not when intoxicated.

“Ah…I see…” He said with a chuckle that you could only describe as pathetic, “All Supes really do have an ego, don't they?” He asked, hopping off the table he was sitting on.

“Hey! You've known me for five minutes and you're already making assumptions about me?” You balled your fists and took an accusatory step forward. Frenchie raised a brow.

“And I’m safe to assume that you’ve already painted this image of me in your head like some sort of druggie asshole?” Damn. He got you with that one. But alas…You were too prideful to let him have the last word. You scoffed.

“Maybe I’ll change my opinions when you’ve done something other than do drugs and laugh at me.” You said with a roll of your eyes. You weren't a conflictive person…But the last few days had been long and hard, so you couldn't exactly help it.

“Ditto, mon amour.” He said, his face painted with an absolutely infuriating smirk.

“Fuck you.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know nothing about me.”

“Eh bien, va te faire foutre toi aussi.” He said, almost matter-of-factly, mocking your current stance. You didn’t speak French, but you could only assume he had said something insulting back. Well, fuck you too. You were about to spit something back, but thankfully, Butcher came walking back down the wooden stairs, an eyebrow raised.

“Everything's alright down here, love?” He asks, the look on his face a mix between suspicion and curiosity.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” You said, your tone strained. Butcher then looked over to Frenchie, who simply gave a thumbs up before leaning down to do another line off the phonebook. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You were too exhausted to say anything else.

The nerve of this man.

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

I think it's safe to say this mini series is going to be lots of fun! I love Frenchie as a character, and it was really fun to come up with a fun Supe persona for the reader! I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part 2! I'm also working on a taglist form so keep an eye out for that! Adieu!

Masterlist

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wordbunch · 5 months ago

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dad Boromir headcanons

a/n: more specifically this is girl dad boromir!! purely self indulgent and based on my personal fantasies. oops. still hope u think it's cute and leave it a nice comment/reblog/sth... 🥰💌

for a few days after she is born, Boromir just walks around on the verge of happy tears

needless to say he is wrapped around her pinky finger from the very first second of knowing her

nobody except you, him, Faramir and your fellowship friends are allowed to hold her (maybe don't let Merry and Pippin babysit immediately)

his protectiveness grows tenfold, both of you and your daughter

"now i have two queens of my heart"

my headcanon is that Gondor hasn't had any princesses born in a loooong time so historically it would also be a very exciting occasion!

Boromir is 101% hands-on and very quickly catches onto many tips and tricks for caring for an infant, all courtly protocols be damned! that is his babygirl and his wife and just you try keeping him away!

no matter his obligations and plans, if she falls asleep on him, or clutching a strand of his hair, his finger, ear, clothes, anything, you can bet he isn't moving anywhere

he covers her tiny ears if he hears anyone nearby uttering what he deems inappropriate words (his standards for inappropriate words also changed significantly)

comes up with the best stories and changes his voice to fit different characters

if your daughter's first word is anything close to 'dad', he will all but proclaim a national holiday complete with a feast istg

aunties Éowyn and Arwen love love having their little girl time with her and will teach her different, but amazing things respectfully

Boromir does his very best to openly express love and affection towards your babygirl - lord knows how he grew up

you know sometimes he isn't sure what to do or how to say something, but your heart swells while watching him give his best

your love for each other deepened as you watched each other grow into the new phase of life

for real, he was nothing but loving towards you before, but now...

he becomes so attuned to your needs it blows your mind

little appreciation gifts are a very common occurence

while you try to keep the bath time relatively tidy and not cause a flood every time, Boromir makes it his mission to make it as fun and chaotic as possible

the little princess of Gondor has the cutest clothes and toys imaginable

especially when she starts to express her wishes, Boromir will do anything to make them come true

"my love, don't you think she is a little too young for a pony?"

"but she said she wanted one!"

"...she was talking in her sleep, Boromir"

"see, it is her dream to have a pony!"

luckily you win and she doesn't get a pony at the ripe old age of barely 2, but you partially cave in and say she can feed and pet ponies when you visit your friends in the Shire

those family outings are always so much fun and some of your favorite memories

everytime your girl is being very stubborn, and your husband is exasperated, you like to remind him she's his daughter through and through

when she grows up she will take no shit but will be so kind and warm and interested in so many things

truly the best of combinations, Boromir and you almost congratulate each other on doing a splendid job

tagging some friends just because

@lady-of-imladris

@sotwk

@starladyy

@queenmeriadoc

@fenharel-enaste

@entishramblings

@coraleethroughthelookingglass

@shirefantasies

@asianbutnotjapanese

@ironmandeficiency

@glorf1ndel

@aidansloth

#from my pocketses #lotr headcanons #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fanfiction #boromir #boromir x reader #boromir fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings headcanons #lotr

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eclipzee3 · 1 year ago

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˗ˏˋ 𝓐 𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 ˎˊ˗

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆!𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒅 𝒙 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔!𝒅𝒃𝒇 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

˚ʚ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ɞ˚

•°`` 1.1k ``°•

➵tw for stepcest, somnophilia, basically dub-con, age gap, sexual comments, groping, cream pie, oral sex, threesome, lmk if I missed any. Super mean price, too!

Hide this post if you do not like the warnings. Please block me or do what you see fit.

You didn't exactly want to admit how you felt about it. Your fathers best friend, Philip, was a pain in the ass. Quite literally as well.

Every time he came over, he was all over you, and along with your father. And even worse, your mother's job had her away constantly. And it wasn't like you could text her. Not when your dad had to give you a phone and watch what you did on it before taking it back.

It was ironic given that he was watching porn all the time on his phone. You had walked in on him once or twice. You still weren't sure if he was really close or if he had come to you both times. You hoped for the latter, obviously.

Philip wasn't the brightest either, as stated. Whereas your father was with you all the time, every time phil came over, his advances were clear. Missing panties, bras, shirts.. you name it. Even your own jewelry? The worst part is he would tell you exactly what he'd do with them. And return them to you.. with their own new design. More of, covered in cum. Needless to say, those panties were thrown away. But you didn't have an infinite supply of the damn fuckers, so there you were. Sitting alone in your room with no panties and a tight little top for bed.

You preferred tighter clothes for bed since they didn't slide around as much. You dad didn't seem to think it was for that. It was surely just to turn him on.. According to him.

You had lost doorknob privileges due to talking back when it was really just you telling him about why you decided to wear tight clothes. He wouldn't even let you buy baggy ones. Said you'd look homeless every time.

So, under your covers, you were really just in a camisole. Just a baby pink shirt, nothing special. You were so ready for bed. It was the middle of the week, and you had classes tomorrow at your college, so you had to get your beauty sleep. Until...

You heard a knock at the front door, then a few clicks of the doorbell. You already knew who it must've been.

Fucking phillip.

"Hey!!" He shouted, seeing your father. You pictured the scene in your head since you were upstairs. Sulking in dread as you already knew what was about to happen. You heard muffled voices.. and then walking up the stairs. You saw your dad's silhouette through the small hole of your absent doorknob.

"Phil wants to see you, baby doll." He peeked his head in, and you audibly groaned. "No." You mumbled, glaring at him.

"No attitude. You know fuckin' better. Get up, you're saying hi. And just for that, you'll be spending about an hour with us since you wanna be such an uptight brat." He glanced at his watch before watching you instead of disappearing. You just looked back. Wouldn't he leave?

"Get up. You wanna test me?" He growled, walking in and getting closer to you. He hovered over you, his eyes staring daggers into yours. "If you wanna be a fucking brat do it so phil can see. Get the fuck up, y/n." He said in a yelling whisper voice. The type your mom would use when you were misbehaving in public.

Abruptly, he tugged your covers off just as you were about to say anything. No panties.. no covers. No privacy. He glanced down, taking a look at your bare pussy. "Oh so you're being a slut now? Is that it?" He said, rolling his eyes before grabbing your arm. "I don't have any underwear!" You protested, but he dragged you out of bed regardless despite you trying to fight him. There was no use. He was twice your size.. you weren't exactly a fighter either.

He pulled you down the stairs and led you into the kitchen.. only Phil to be there with a grin on his face. "What's wrong? Missing something?" He asked, glancing down at your hands tugging down at your camisole to cover yourself. Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment and anger setting in. You were flustered, and your own father threw you at a man whore. "Fuck off." You snapped at him, only to get a rough push into the counter by your dad, his body pushing you into the cold marble. "You will not speak to our guests that way, do you understand." He roughly whispered into your ear with gritting teeth before pushing off you after your little scolding.

You stood there, practically fuming. You glared at phil, only making him chuckle, his eyes drifting down to your pussy.. a little bush of pubes very visible, along with your pussy lips.

"Wanna tell Phil why you don't wanna wear underwear, hm?" John seemed to have calmed a bit, almost a playful tone as he glanced down too.. feeling a bit of blood rush to his cock.

"Because someone took all my panties and used them to jerk off with." You said dryly, eyes connected with Phil's as he finally looked up, tilting his head. "Wasn't me, baby. Must've been your dirty daddy." He laughed, only for John to laugh with him. Your dad's hand slipping around your waist before sliding down to your ass.. giving it a rough squeeze. "Guess we'll have to get you some more, huh?" John said, his hand leaving you to reach out to the fridge only to grab two beers. Despite being of age, you still weren't allowed to drink. Or basically do anything for that matter.

He passed the beer to Phil for him to smirk, tipping his head up as a thanks before he opened the cap with just his thumb. You were surprised he didn't have a deep cut of some kind. You guessed it was from all the shit he did over the years.. creating a rough callous on each of his fingertips. John did the same, for them to take a few sips, dramatically smacking and doing what older men had to.

"You just wanna stand there? If you need something to do, you can always start cleaning. Something a woman like you should be doing." He said, taking a quick sip before chuckling softly. "Or actually, a girl like you."

Fucking prick. You chose not to talk. It would only get you either having to actually do that or screamed at.. or worse. You shuddered at the thought. They both began to chat.. while you stood there awkwardly.. backing away slowly.

John didn't seem to notice. Nor care. So, you crept up the stairs, being sure to avoid the creaky parts before getting into bed, shutting your eyes. You prayed they wouldn't notice you disappeared, but they would eventually. You were just afraid of what would happen.

ㅤ/ᐠ - ˕ -マ z Z Z

"Wanna fuck her?" Phil said. He wasn't lightweight. He knew well what he was doing. What he was asking from your father. And your dad did, too. He wasn't dumb. "Why wouldn't i?" He said back, glancing at each other.

"Her fault for wearing that shit.." Phil cursed under his breath, palming himself as they stood above your bed.. watching your body squirm in whatever dream you were having. John's eyes were focused on your ass. Perked out as you were cuddled into yourself.. curled up. You said sweet little nothings.. soft hums coming from your mouth as your pussy soon glistened.

To answer the question.. yes. You liked it. You loved it. The attention was horrible, but the outcome? God. Your poor pussy needed cock. You were still a virgin due to your dad being a prick and not letting you lose it.. so your fingers and household items were really the best you had. And you couldn't even deny it if you were asked. You had wet dreams about fuckng yourself on your dad's cock maybe every night.

Your pussy was practically dripping. John groaned softly.. his cock perking in his jeans. "Fuck.. pretty girl.." he mumbled, bending his knees as he moved his hands to your ass.. rubbing it before sticking a finger in your tight little hole.. the warm wetness sucking him in. Phil was unbuckling his jeans.. pulling his boxers down and stroking his meaty cock in no time as he watched your father finger you..

"So fuckin' tight..." he rose from his position.. pulling his cock out as well.. moving down once more.. just now on your bed. You still hadn't awoke yet since your dream was also quite action packed. You didn't notice the dips in the bed where your father's knees had gone.. his hand guiding his cock along your wet folds, a grunt leaving his lips as he took everything in him not to cum right there and then. Phil hummed behind him, precum from his cock making wet noises as he pumped his cock.. grabbing one of your arms from where it was tucked in your chest before gliding it over his cock instead. Soon, both the men were groaning.. only fondling with you now.

John decided it was enough. So, he began to push his cock inside you, Phil now moving onto the bed aswell, on the other side as he rubbed his cock against your cheek. They were both getting what they wanted before your eyes began to flicker open.. Phil reacting immediately. He slipped his cock in your mouth, holding your head as he licked his lips.. eyes rolling back as he began to buck his hips against your tongue. You hummed... the foreign feeling of something prodding at your pussy making you mumble more.. little movements coming from you as you finally began to realize what was taking place. You moaned as your stepdad began to work himself in further, groans leaving his lips as you squeezed around his cock. You whimpered.. hands tugging on Phil as he lifted your head farther on his cock.. guiding you as you moaned around both of them.

"Fuck, baby.." Phil cursed. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this." He began to thrust into your mouth, your eyes widening as you gagged and choked on his girth. He was huge.. you could feel how slimy his cock was from his precum.. and even better, your daddy was thrusting into you at the same time, cock covered in your sticky arousal as lube. He began to spoon you, rutting up into your core as you moaned, his hand reaching around to play with your clit at the same time.

"So tight, princess.. love this big ol' cock dontcha' babe.." he purred into your ear, quickening his pace as he groaned and bit at your neck.. Phil bruising your throat at the same time. John knew you were helpless. He knew you were just a little toy for him now.. and he fucking loved it.

He thrusted and thrusted, finger quickening on your sensitive bud as Phil began to slow down.. sloppy thrusts following as he quickly pulled out of your mouth, pumping his cock quickly.. "fuckfuckfuck.. cmon.. fuck.. baby.." His feet scrunched as you moaned on your daddy's cock, little whimpers leaving you as you closed your eyes.. Phil shooting cum all over your face.. the gooey white substance dripping from his tip as he groaned.. swallowing hard as he watched John practically pound into your pussy as he sucked on your neck. "Gonna ruin this pretty pussy.." He said, voice rough and gravelly as he tried to keep his composure inside you.. his free hand going under you and slipping beneath your shirt to cup your tit.. pinching your nipples.

"Fuck! Ah.. too much!" You whined.. shorted breaths leaving you as you reached down to play with your clit.. your breath quickening as you came closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum? Gonna cum all over step daddy's cock?" He grunted, obviously close himself as he kept going steadily, your clit burning with heat as you finally came.. short gasps leaving you as you whimpered.. mumbling yes over and over again as you father came quickly after cock pushed up into your cervix as he came.. hips jolting as he hummed.. "ur' pussy belongs to me, doll.. daddy's girl.."

He had filled you to the brim with his cum.. eventually pulling out only for the cum to ooze out of you.. body shaking as you gasped.. feeling the absence of your dad's cock as you drifted back to sleep..

"Never getting a filling that good from anyone else.." he whispered, kissing your forehead as he presumably got dressed with Phil... leaving you to your dreams as you slept.

This took so unbelievably long to make. It looks so short, too 😭. I hope you enjoyed it!! lmk if you want a part 2 maybe?? If this gets traction maybe but idk I'm not gonna like waste time if it's not gonna be enjoyed yknow 🤧

༊*·˚

#john price smut #john price x reader #john price #john price x you #john price x female reader #john price x f!reader #philip graves #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves smut #philip graves x reader #tw stepcest #john price stepcest #phil graves dbf #tw somno #tw rap3

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httpsghostie · 2 years ago

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Beneath the Surface (pt. 2)

Part one

Part two

Okay first of all the fact that the father's best friend!Simon went so well makes me worried. So we're all damaged? Anyways thank you sm!

Requests are open and appreciated, I need ideas hehehehe

Here's a part two that no one asked for

Summary: Simon follows you to the bathroom for a second round.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, implied age gap, piv, unprotected, choking, breeding kink, slight scent kink, reader is called by lots of names, no use of y/n

masterlist

NSFW under the cut

Your heart was racing, your legs trembling when you unlocked the door of your room. It had been probably half an hour since your parents got home and everything happened. They went to sleep, not wanting to bother you and the bad-temper they knew you had before they left. You went to the bathroom and started undressing yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror and noticing the way your hips were marked. He'd dug his nails into your flesh when he was fucking you silly and your rotting brain didn't even feel it.

His hands on your body, his words, it didn't leave your mind. You spent countless nights dreaming about this. It was so dirty, you felt so stupid and dislocated to want this when your friends talked about their normal relationships with people their age, while you daydreamed about having sex with a man that appeared every once in a while, usually accompanied by a new battle scar. And, well, speaking of the devil, the doorknob turned and he got in, locking the door behind him.

"-the fuck are you-" your words got cut off as his lips crashed again yours, his eager hands pressing you against the balcony and squeezing your ass.

"'M not done with you." He broke the kiss and kissed a trail down your neck to your chest, where he palmed one of your tits as the other one was on his mouth. His knee pressed against your core, those fucking tight jeans that accentuated his thighs were now getting a wet spot.

He was now towering over you as he sat you down on the sink, taking off all of his clothes. He spread your legs further apart and without any warning he just thrusted into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

"How does it feel, hm?" He asks. "'Y like being stuffed, baby?" One of his hands grabs a fistful of hair behind your neck. "Such a needy whore you are, walking around with my cum in you." He planted kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone.

You clenched around him at his words, earning a small and almost animalistic groan from the back of his throat. He pulled you from the porcelain surface, letting you stand your ground before flipping you like a piece of paper. He bended you on the sink, pressing your back for you to arch for him.

That sight. Oh, that sight. He tapped his cock on your butt a few times and brushed his tip around your folds, then he entered. This angle allowed him to go deeper, and he sighed as he grabbed your hips and started to fuck you slowly.

"God..damn it." He moaned. "So fucking tight." You kept your back arched, but slowly lifted your face from the porcelain, looking at his reflection. His back had fallen back and his eyes were closed. You weren't sure what that meant, was he enjoying it, trying to memorize how you felt? Or were you just a simple fuck to the man behind you?

Needless to say you didn't know what went through his head. But the thought of him seeing you as a hobby or a distraction made you steamed up. Oh, wow. The feeling was knotting your stomach, all the heat going to your head. You moved against him, trying to get more movement from his part. He looked at you in the mirror and gave you a smirk.

"So eager, eh?" He pulled you closer to his body.

"What's so good you can't look at me?" You ask, not knowing where you were getting into.

"Beg your pardon? " His smirk was gone and he was looking at you with lustful eyes. "Want me to look at this pretty face of yours while I ruin you, huh?" His right arm slid in front of your neck and he choked you with his muscles, your back was now glued to him. "Then take it."

You just signed your death sentence. The caring Simon you knew was probably buried deep down those giant muscles in the reflection. He fucked you mad, hand covering your mouth as his balls hit your bundle of nerves repetitively. He couldn't help himself, he needed to do this ever since you started to purposefully wear revealing clothes around him.

It started small, just a shirt with a little bit of cleavage showing. You didn't feel like it had affected him in any way, so you upgraded your game. Skirts. Skirts were his downfall. That man was covered in gasoline and you were the spark to set him on fire. The way your thighs moved, the way it complimented your body. He always said you looked beautiful in skirts and dresses, what he forgot to mention is that they'd look even better on the floor, all across the room.

He dreamt about the day this would finally happen, but he needed to be sneaky. He didn't want to lose such a strong friendship with your father just because he had an incessant desire for his daughter. It was wrong, he knew it, but he couldn't help himself when his hands were wrapped around his leaking cock in your bathroom after some silly hand appointments in the living room, usually followed up by him coming by the scent of your used pink, laced panties in the laundry basket.

"Uh-uh, open your eyes, princess." Demanded him, one hand on your throat and the other on your hip. "Want you to watch how I ruin this pussy." He gave a step forward and pressed your face against the mirror, immediately making it steam with your heatness. He held your hands back as he thrusted harder into your velvety walls. You felt your eyes closing again and he yanked your head back, choking you with his free hand. "Did I stutter?" You shake your head.

He spat on your face and inserted his fingers on your mouth, never stopping fucking you. "Look at yourself." He slowly pushed his fingers in until it reached your throat and you gagged around them. He smiled as he made you drool down his hand.

He fucked you incessantly, the knot inside you growing with each movement. Your pussy was sore and he was abusing your cervix at this point. You swear you could pass out before making him cum, because your legs were giving up.

"Come here you little slut." He flipped you and picked you up, walking into the shower and turning it on. "Can't take my cock anymore?" Said as he pressed you against the wall and fucked you hard. You slightly shake your head, mouth agape. You didn't mean it, your body was moving on its own. "Too bad, princess. 'Gonna take what I give you."

Moans escaped your mouth unintentionally as you felt your body get even weaker as you approached your high.

"Fuck, sir, 'm gonna cum." You cried out, throwing your head back.

"What you called me?" He looked you in the eye and his lips were turning into a smirk. Obviously it came out involuntarily. You looked at him confused. "Say that again, baby, come on." He encouraged.

"Sir… I'm coming, I'm coming." You whined, his thumb was somehow stimulating your clit and you reached your orgasm, leaving his lower stomach and crotch covered in your juices. He didn't let you ride down your high, he was desperate to cum inside you again. "T-... much, Si." You cried lowly on his shoulder.

He didn't listen to you, but it didn't take much more until he was releasing his warm seeds inside of you, legs trembling, panting breath.

He helped you to clean, well, he gave you a shower after you collapsed on his arms. He then carried you to your room and laid you down on your comfy bed, the one you needed since the day ended.

The walk back to the guest bedroom was somehow exquisite. He fulfilled his dreams, and probably yours too, but he felt like he needed more. Your touch, sweet and delicate as he gently scrubbed you in the shower. The tender, soft kiss you left on his cheek when he carried you. It wasn't all just sex. He was desperate for affection and you were there to give it to him. All under the covers. Your dirty secret.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghost simon riley #cod fanfic #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost #ghost #cod smut #mw2 fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost smut

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twiishaa · 2 months ago

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twisha’s merry christmas event! a white christmas with portgas d. ace

ace x fem!reader, fluff! your boyfriend, ace, had always dreamed of a white christmas. It was christmas day, the whitebeard pirates were at sea, but a christmas miracle occurred-- it had been a snow day! Who can build the biggest snowman?

your jaw dropped in shock from the information you just got from your boyfriend, portgas d. ace.

“WHAT?! you’ve NEVER experienced a white christmas?”

ace chuckled a little. “yeah, when I was living with dadan there was never any snow, and I guess we haven’t landed on any winter islands during…. winter…”

you were both on whitebeard’s crew, and it was true—you rarely stopped at winter islands at all. marco walked past the two of you, joining in the conversation.

“yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a snow day,” he added.

you were speechless. how had the greatest pirate crew in the world not had a white christmas?

sighing, you got up and started making your way to your room, mumbling under your breath, “greatest pirates in the world living under a rock or something,”

but ace heard you.

“hey, you’re part of us, too!” he yelled from where he was sitting down.

—

a few days later and christmas finally rolled around. you had woken up a bit earlier than you usually did— something was off, why was it colder than usual? confused, you made your way to the main deck—but you got your answer right after opening the door.

“oh my god! it snowed!” you squealed in excitement. soon after, everyone else hurriedly came outside, to be met with the delicate white drops falling from the sky, creating a soft white blanket below.

obviously, the last one to get up was ace, still rubbing his eyes.

because of his devil fruit, he didn’t feel a thing since he was warm all the time. but that changed when you launched a snowball at his torso.

“oh, you!” he started chasing after you, two massive snowballs in either hand.

—

needless to say, your snowball fight went on for a while, at one point become a full-blown war between the divisions.

tired from hurling snowballs at people, you tried to get rid of the snow on a bench and sat down on it.

“so, have you been enjoying the white christmas?” you asked, as ace sat down next to you.

“—and aren’t you cold? you’re literally not wearing a shirt,” at which ace gave you a toothy grin.

tackling you into a hug, ace said, “the cold doesn’t bother me that much, see—I’m really warm, aren’t i?” it was true. ace was basically your little portable heater.

he let go soon after, saying, “there’s one more thing I haven’t done yet, though,” you looked at ace, raising an eyebrow.

“oh yeah? and what’s that?” he’d been talking about a white christmas for ages, what else?

“well, I’ve always wanted to make a snowman…” ace started.

“ohhh! that’s easy, let’s make a snowman!” you cried, getting up excitedly.

—

“baby, look! it’s a snow you!” turning to look at ace, you saw the ‘snow you’.

a wonky snow-thing that looked like it was going to topple over at any moment.

“do you like it?” you could hear marco absolutely cackling in the background.

walking up to the snowman, you examined it—“why don’t I have a nose?” you questioned, glaring at ace.

“oh… I couldn’t find a carrot,” ace admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

some parts of it were cute, though—like how he used your favourite scarf as an accessory and copied your hairstyle.

“alright,” you huffed, “time to make a snow-ace to go with it.”

“really?” ace said, his eyes sparkling, before tackling you in another hug.

“you’re gonna make ME? as a snowman? this is the best christmas ever!”

—

but by the end of the day, the heavy snowfall had stopped, and you were all getting ready to get some sleep after a long day.

before you retreated back into your room, you asked ace,

“did you have fun today?”

your boyfriend beamed at you. “I had the best time! thank you for staying by my side for so long,” your heart sped up a little; sometimes, ace would say something really touching unexpectedly. despite dating him for a few years already, they always caught you by surprise, making your cheeks heat up and you stumble over your words like a high-schooler.

you rested your head on ace’s shoulder, closing your eyes; he put his warm arm around your waist. “of course, baby. I love you,” you whispered.

before going to his room, ace left a kiss on your forehead. following him, you also went to your own room.

and outside stood snow-ace and his slightly wonky girlfriend.

taglist @hearts4hansol

⋆⁺₊❅ and lastly, here's a link to the taglists! merry christmas~‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

#twisha’s merry christmas event!#portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #one piece ace #ace

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damagedintellect · 22 days ago

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Karma Akabane x reader

💌 Put in your place: Chapter 1 💌

Summary: Karma has been your academic rival since you started high school so color you surprised when his placement dropped to 13th overall. Lets just say you got cocky and to make things interesting on the final he makes a bet that "whoever places higher can have the other as their personal servant for a week"

Notes: Aged up characters, sadism light, bdsm tendencies, eventual nsfw themes

I haven't thought about it for years so for the 10th year anniversary I rewatched Assassination Classroom twice and found out that Sub Karma & Dub Karma are not the same so I decided to play around with my favorite little sadist. Honestly the Dub is hysterical for all the wrong reasons but I still enjoyed it. I also recommend Nana to Kaoru for anyone who likes a little taste of S&M as this fic is heavily inspired by it!

💌 Word count: 4,269 💌 You Are Here | Chapter 2 coming soon??

Your eyes could barely stay open. At this point you have no memory of how you even made it up the stairs and to your seat. The exam started some time ago but staring at the clock made you dizzy. You were trying to read the words on the page but they seemed foreign. As your eyebrows knit together you know that can’t be right. You’re pretty sure you were scheduled to start with history.

A bead of sweat ran down your face. “Shit. This isn’t good.” You thought. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to steady yourself. There was a notable shake to your hands as you fiddled with your writing utensil.

Has it always been this warm in classroom 2-A?

The past week, in anticipation for finals, you had been studying nonstop in order to beat your self proclaimed rival. He had been teasing you since last year, something along the lines that you will always be below him. After a year of teasing and being mocked even though you both were neck and neck you were not going to take it anymore. However you might have overdone it.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” He whispered, leaning back in his chair, ”you only have five minutes left.”

That aggravatingly smug voice pulled you out of your stupor as you glared at the redhead in front of you. He glanced down at your exam and chuckled to himself. You tried to give him the finger but as you shifted in your seat your world turned sideways before fading to black.

That’s how you reserved your spot in 3-E. You tried your best to plead your case but maintaining one’s general health was also supposed to be a priority to the students on top of their grades. After you received the transfer your mental health tanked pretty heavily. It led to you being hospitalized for the start of the new year.

This is not how you expected your senior year to go but when do things ever go as planned. Your parents were only mildly concerned as they had never been too involved in your life. As long as you were breathing they were sure you could figure it out and that was enough for them. They want to support you at a distance so you can learn independence. It almost made you want to stay in the hospital but this year was crucial for the rest of your godforsaken life so after a lot of thought you pulled yourself back up to start over again.

You kicked a rock at the base of the mountain taking a deep breath.

The cool thing about being at rock bottom was there was nowhere to go but up and as you dragged yourself up the mountain. You only hoped that you could claw your way back to the top so you could kick that bastard's ass. Not that the color red traumatized you but very few things you encountered in your daily life were that specific shade. Upon opening the door you almost tripped over your own feet at the brief flash of the red. A pair of amused golden eyes peered back at you. He was the last person you expected to see here.

You tilted your head with an incredulous look. “Karma?!”

Needless to say the months that followed meant that you picked up your rivalry from where it left off. Although, something about it was slightly different and you're not too sure about what changed. Despite your constant bickering, exams almost felt easier when you were focusing on beating Karma instead of trying to take down Asano.

Karma seemed more human compared to Asano being more untouchable or maybe that was just their attitudes.

During the end of term exams when you placed 4th overall and Karma placed 13th, it felt like an empty victory. You couldn’t even gloat because that bastard didn’t show up to class and when he did you just felt off. Korosensei had asked you how you felt but you couldn't help peeking over at the long abandoned desk and muttering “empty”. So you let it go and things went back to normal or well as normal as they could be in your assassination classroom.

The next time you would even think about your victory was when Asano asked class E for a favor. You couldn’t hide your shit eating grin as Karma denoted he was going to place first. Even though you're on the same side you were itching to say “Oh? Is that right~.”

You managed to hold your comments until Asano left and then you pat Karma on the back “How cute, those are some big words for someone who placed thirteenth overall. Last time I checked, four is closer to one than thirteen.” You playfully ruffled his hair, “but what do I know, math was always more your thing than mine.”

He didn’t shy away from the fact you were right. He dropped the ball but he was ready now. Without hesitation Karma doubled down.

“In that case do you want to make a wager of your own?”

Things shifted again but this time you figured it out. What was different. Karma was seeing you eye to eye. He wasn't mocking you. Last time he even used his height to look down on you, this time it was like you both were equals. “How about this, whoever places higher can have the other as their personal servant for a week. Sound good?” The redhead extended his hand as a binding contract.

“An anything goes kind of a prize? Sounds dangerous and exciting.” You stare at the redhead incredulously. “Careful Karma I might have you eat your words.”

He smiled wide, “I don’t intend to lose.”

___

The moment you told Rio about the bet she was squealing. Obviously since Korosensei has been trying to push some of your classmates into a relationship she noticed how he would pair you and Karma together. Not that she would try to coerce you to get into a relationship but she thinks you guys would be cute together. Most of the girls even agree that Karma would be a decent catch if it was not for one glaringly obvious trait.

“That's so risque, even for my standards. You do realize he's a sadist right?” She often would get on your case for playing things too safe or being too prude but now she wants you to pull back. You sigh “Like anyone can forget. I mean just look at him out there.”

You were watching the boys spar with each other while the girls were on a break. Karma currently had Meahara pinned like he wasn't even trying and Meahara was squirming trying everything in his power to get free. Karma had been pinning people left and right. Ever since you guys came back from Okinawa he's pretty much been physically untouchable. It was really a sight to behold. Rio hummed “What if he makes you do something weird?”

You groaned “Wow you have so much faith in me.” While you give her side eye she tries to defend herself. “I didn’t say you weren’t going to win, I'm just saying what if he does. Aren’t you even a little worried about that?”

You both watch as he throws Terasaka to the ground. While you understand what she meant and what she’s trying to get at, it was strange that you don’t really care about it. The Karma that you knew last year albeit very similar is very different from the one you are currently watching take down the class. You shrugged “I mean how bad can it be?” You guess you’d just have to study extra hard to make sure that doesn’t end up happening and you’ll be fine.

Rio slaps your arms, your break was finally over. “Famous last words.”

___

It was the moment of truth. There was a lot riding on these results for the whole class but for you this was a matter of life or death. It was kill or be killed and you are so confident that you killed but the only test you were concerned about was math being that it was Karma’s best subject. Korosensei wasted no time at all, putting the banner up on the blackboard. Your heart sank as you immediately saw Karma’s name at the top spot.

Five points, that’s all that separated you from at least tying with him. Don't get it wrong, you were still proud of your score but knowing you were so close to beating even Asano frustrated you. If you had just finished the last question on the math exam, you might have got enough partial credit to push above him. To be fair by the time you got to that question you only had two minutes left and after reading the question you didn’t understand what was being asked of you immediately and gave up. You were remiss. It didn’t help that Korosensei had Karma teach the past week so your inner math conscience was Karma’s voice and the more you panicked the more that voice kept egging you on in a way that simply was not helpful. He was a good teacher but there was something about his demeanor that really baffled you.

Presently everyone was screaming and shouting their celebrations but all you could do was stare at the redhead in question. He was blushing almost like he didn’t believe it himself either. Again all the girls agreed that he was good looking and right now he was being down right adorable. Korosensei slithered up to him in all the excitement to ask him how he felt and he even got sentimental. It made you smile. Karma has come a long way as a person too. Looking back on the year everyone has grown.

You were proud of your rival for coming this far. Back when you both were in class A, the real goal was to take down Asano but you both kept trading places. At the time it was starting to get annoying seeing your names together but now you kinda miss it. It just reminds you that one day in the near future you all would be going your separate ways. There was a sense of unease thinking about it.

You probably should congratulate him for completing such a feat but as soon as you stepped in his direction his attention was solely on you. A shiver ran down your spine. Almost like a switch was flipped his familiar smug grin plastered itself to his features. Your heart raced as he pulled a small box out of his blazer. Did he seriously get you a present for losing? You had a bad feeling about this.

He waved it in front of your face and you quirked an eyebrow at him. Your classmates were all too preoccupied at the moment so you took this time to open the box. One glance inside had your stomach drop. “You have to be kidding me.”

He circled you reveling in your realization. “I won, didn't I? Doesn’t that mean you're my slave for the week?” Karma hummed, holding the collar up to your neck. “Actually ya know what I think pet would be a little more accurate.” He started laughing as he unclasped the buckle motioning for you to come closer so he could put it on you.

This was not how you expected this to go. It was humiliating. You felt extremely confident in your scores but his were literally perfect. You were hoping to crush Karma and turn the tables on him, to finally make him squirm. You never actually figured out how you would go about doing that because he seems to have no sense of shame especially if he’s being put on the spot. Korosensei has only made him flustered a handful of times according to Nagisa and you weren’t even in class to see it with your own eyes.

You swallowed as you stepped forward into his personal space. His predatory gaze only flustered you more. Rio, Nagisa and a few others were watching you as Karma made a show of putting it on. It was hard not to flush with embarrassment. He slipped two fingers under the collar to make sure it wasn’t too tight. Whistling he admired his handiwork almost too proud of himself.

You frowned, fiddling with the metal tag for a bit trying to read the engraving. It was hard to think straight right now knowing that your peers watched the redhead claim you as his pet. It made you blush knowing that some of your classmates have no context whatsoever. Rio was even giving you a look that was somewhere between “I told you so” and “I’m sorry.”

Honestly, you were surprised Korosensei hadn’t made a comment about it yet. There weren't really any school rules against jewelry and that sadistic bastard opted for something that could pass as an ordinary leather choker that only kind of resembled a dog collar if you knew who gave it to you.

“I have to say it looks cute on you.” Karma cooed petting your head.

You swat his hand away as your heart rate spiked. The flutter in your chest only made it harder to read the tag so you motioned for Nagisa to read it. Motherfucker had it printed in English anyways and despite being one of your best subjects reading upside-down wasn’t that easy. Karma only snickered, giving you a toothy grin.

“Property of Akabane Karma”

That sure got the class in an uproar as only a select few of your classmates knew about your bet. Luckily your peers' revelations of your new accessory were cut short as the building quaked. Perfect a much needed distraction. Things got really messy after that with the headmaster and everyone volunteered to stay afterwards to try and repair the demolished space. You all could only do so much but at least you could all do it together.

When you were finally finished with the day you were exhausted. Just as you were about to make the trek back down the mountain Karma stood in front of you holding out another box. You only rolled your eyes. “What is it this time?” By chance most of your classmates cleared out since it was getting late but you were on alert just in case this turned south. As soon as you opened the box you frantically closed it making sure no one else saw the contents. Yanking the front of his shirt you whisper shouted in his ear. “You are not walking me home on a leash!”

Karma chuckled at your reluctance putting his hands up with a sigh “I could have sworn someone, not naming names, said anything goes? But I get it, two high-schoolers getting caught for public indecency isn't on my 2025 bingo card either.” He paused rummaging through his bag again. You tilt your head to the side confused at why he was handing you a scarf. “That’s why you’re going to put this over the collar and thread the leash through your coat sleeve. Problem solved! At most people will think I made you hold my hand.”

You glare at him but all you receive is that smug smile. His eyes darken as you stomp over to the bathrooms which were unscathed in the earlier minor demolition. You tensed as he called out “Don’t take too long my pet~” You grind your teeth in order not to give him the satisfaction. He was too proud for your liking.

Looking in the mirror you clipped the leash on your collar, holding the end of it. It felt degrading. Warmth spread over your entire body. You can't believe you are really doing this. Shifting the scarf you made sure everything was hidden. Karma really planned everything to a tee. Which begs the question: was he that confident he was going to win from the start?

When you returned Karma’s eyes practically lit up like stadium lights which would have been cute had he not been so smug about this whole ordeal. Too bad you’ve made your bed and now you have to lie in it. It’s not like anyone is going to know, but the problem is Karma knows and will forever be able to lord this over you. His devilish grin was mocking you as he took your hand feeling for the end of the leash to make sure you were following instructions properly. Legitimately you don’t know what you expected by holding Karma’s hand. You couldn’t look at him anymore.

Neither of you talked. Sometimes he would spare you a glance just to make sure you were still feeling some sort of embarrassment or discomfort. He was eerily chipper like a kid on Christmas morning. In a way it was kind of getting under your skin. The walk down the mountain was fine since there weren’t many people around but as you got closer to the residential area you noticed Karma dropped your hand to hold just the leash.

You tried to hide in the scarf feeling your face heat up for several reasons. One because Karma was walking you home, two because he hasn’t said a word since leaving the school and three because the scarf smells so much like Karma and while you can't quite describe the aroma it smells pleasant. Like if you found this fragrance in a shop you probably would buy it kind of pleasant. He made sure to walk borderline in your personal space too. You could actually feel warmth radiating from him. Not many people were out and about at this time of day but your heart was pounding anytime you saw another person, regardless of whether they were paying attention to you or not.

Your breathing was all over the place and as you made it closer to your neighborhood the weight of the collar seemed to increase ten fold. It was suffocating and you wanted to scream. Karma has barely done anything to you and you were already feeling a sense of dread and embarrassment. It felt like such an endless walk but you were finally approaching your house.

Judging by the lights you hoped to god that your parents weren't home. You really didn't want to explain why a boy was figuratively and literally walking you home. Not that they would care but you still didn't want to have that talk. If anything they would get the wrong idea and think he’s your crush or worse, your boyfriend. Yes you and the girls talk about it all the time that had it not been for his sadistic tendencies he'd be a pretty good boyfriend material. He was book smart and street smart on top of being handsome and you've seen on more than one occasion how protective he could be but you've never thought of him in that way. Or at least you never thought you did.

You feel like it should be easy to distinguish the feeling of admiration and infatuation because it’s not like you hated Karma but it's also not like you thought about him outside of being rivals. You admire his tact, confidence and adroitness. Karma somehow makes things seem effortless but his attitude is what always rubbed you the wrong way. It’s hard to explain because it’s not like Karma’s arrogant or pompous because he has the skills to back up his claims but he’s not exactly conceited in a traditional sense of the word. If you had to put it into words it’s more that he’s supercilious than an egomaniac.

As you approached the door you could feel salvation. Your torment is almost over just a few more feet and you are home free. The moment you passed through the front gate you made an attempt to race to the door but you felt the slightest tug run up your arm and froze. You forgot. Devilish snickering echoed from behind you as a slightly harsher tug pulled you the opposite direction. It made your blood run cold.

He pressed himself into your side to speak right in your ear. “Someone forgetting something? I haven't given you permission to leave yet.”

Turning sharply you could feel your face heat up again. Why was he so close? “You said you were going to walk me home. Well guess what? Once you stepped through the front gate I'm technically home so you can go now!”

Karma grinned using his height to tower over you. “Oh is that right? Well, then I guess you won't mind if I take the leash off right here then?” He leaned back to survey the area. “For anyone to see if they passed by.” He curled a piece of hair behind your ear. He wanted to see your reaction as he loosened the scarf ever so slightly. Karma was having a field day.

You refused to give in, instead you grabbed his hand and grit your teeth. “You're lucky my parents aren't home or so help me I-”

He pinched your cheek before snickering “You'd what pet,” He paused waiting for an answer that never came. “Might I remind you that you had every opportunity to win the bet.” As much as it is exceedingly off putting to see him so enthusiastic, you hate to admit that he’s right.

Your stomach flipped at the realization. There were so many things you could have done but on impulse you agreed to this. A deals a deal. You detest his slacker attitude towards most things yet here you are being a bad sport. If the tables were turned you’re certain Karma would have taken it in stride. He’s at least doing you the courtesy of keeping the true part of your torment hidden. Reluctantly you stopped fighting. Your heart was working overtime as you accepted your fate. You could beat yourself up about it later. Glaring at him you huffed unlocking the front door. You were quiet as you let Karma into your home.

While you took off your shoes he glanced around the interior waiting for you to let him take the leash off. You’ve been nothing but full of surprises lately. Especially since you accepted the wager to begin with. Karma thought you were going to disregard his antics since you always seem to live on the safe side but you nearly rendered him speechless when you didn’t question his stunt. Truthfully he’s not one hundred percent sure how your rivalry started, it must have been some off handed comment or something of that nature because there weren’t many reasons he would speak to his peers back then. Although the one thing he did remember was that he always enjoyed your reactions. He found them strangely honest, like you weren’t afraid of people reading you like an open book. As if you weren’t afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve.

You stand in front of him after you put your shoes where they go. The silence weighed heavy on you as the both of you stared into each other's eyes for a moment before you got impatient. “Any day now bastard, oops I mean master~” You back sassed him to cover up the fact that you were still somewhat flustered after everything.

“Careful, I wasn't going to make you call me master but that could be arranged.”

He delicately untied the scarf and pulled the leash from your sleeve. It tickled as it crawled up your arm. His eyes darken as he observes the collar around your neck. Moving painstakingly slow he then slips two fingers under the collar and finally unclips the leash. You felt small under his gaze and even though his touch was not sexual in any way it burned. You huffed to mask the underlying feelings you feel bubbling to the surface. “If that's all then you can see yourself out.” You mumbled barely able to get the words out.

Karma shook his head reaching into his bag. “Not yet,” he handed you another present. This time it was in a gift bag, it had some weight to it too. You could only imagine what it could be. If you hadn’t been dreading the contents you probably would wonder just how much time, money and effort he was wasting on this week.

You tried looking inside but he swatted your hand away. “Don’t open it until tomorrow. All the instructions are in the bag.”

“Great, can't wait.” You smiled, speaking sarcastically. You continued to stare at him but Karma made no move to leave. It was starting to get on your nerves. “Let me guess there's one last thing.” you rolled your eyes.

“Well normally dogs give their masters kisses when they get home.” He leaned down pointing to his cheek. His smug grin was even wider than Korosensei's somehow.

At this point you don't question it. Instead you sighed “Fine, but just remember you asked for it.” Gently you cupped his face and with no hesitation with the full flatness of your tongue, you licked his cheek.

“Woof~” You made sure to hold just enough eye contact before hiding your expression.

For the first time all day the roles were reversed. Karma was caught off guard and as he pushed you away you were the one with the devilish grin.

As it finally set in the kind of deal made between you he laughed darkly about it. “This is going to be such a fun week!”

#x reader #xreader #assassination classroom x reader #assassination classroom imagines #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader

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kindersurprisebacterium · 5 months ago

Text

Mister (Ghost/Reader)

CW: DILF Ghost, age gap, best friend's father, cunilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation (kinda), alcohol use, reader is in college

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 3.2k

On the corner of a caul-du-sac sat a cookie-cutter house. The front was adorned with terracotta brick walls. Nearly trimmed hedges and flower beds lined the driveway. It was suburbia. Different from the campus housing I was used to downtown.

I was hesitant to come here. Sleepovers seemed…juvenile. But Audrey and I seemed to get along well, even after knowing each other for only two weeks. So I packed up a night’s worth of clothes and some toiletries and met her in the corridor after lecture.

Her neighborhood was only fifteen minutes outside of the city. The speakers shook the car. Wind whipped through my hair as we sped down the highway.

I felt odd being here, needless to say. Maybe it had to do with the fact that her dad would be home. I stepped out of her lifted truck, pulling my bag behind me. Her carabiner clinked as she unlocked the front door. I watched as she stepped inside and kicked off her shoes before following behind.

“My rooms upstairs. You can put all your bags there.” Audrey said, pointing to the staircase.

“Cool. You gotta show me that poster you were talking about” I grinned. She’d already started up the stairs. The hardwood creaked beneath my feet as I followed her.

“I was in line for like…three hours? They cut the line of right after me.”

We turned down a corridor filled with picture frames. My eyes skimmed across each one. School pictures, beach trips, vacations abroad, and family photos that were obviously taken in a JC Penny. I jumped when my eyes met a pair of glaring brown irises.

A man stood before me, leaning in the doorway of an office. Silver curls sat atop his head. Faded scars, years old by now, adorned his pale face. He had a stern look on his face, a look that was somewhere between apathy and annoyance. Maybe that was just his face.

His arms, covered in intricate black ink, crossed over his broad chest. Even through a thick sweatshirt, I could tell he was well-built. My jaw clenched tightly as the man eyed me.

“Oh dad, this is my friend from anthropology I was telling you about. They’re staying over tonight,” Audrey spoke up, gesturing to me with her painted nails.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Riley,” I said, extending my hand.

“Simon.” He gripped my hand and shook it with a jarring strength. His palms were big enough to nearly engulf my hand. He let go, sliding his hand into his pocket. I turned to face Audrey. She pulled me into her room, closing the door behind the both of us.

She pulled a framed poster from the wall and held it out for me to see. In the bottom right corner in silver sharpie was a swirling signature from the lead singer of a metal band.

“Isn’t it so cool?!”

I couldn’t focus on the movie, or the bottle of beer in my hand. My mind kept going back to Simon. I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the way he looked at me as if I was nothing. Maybe it was his grip on my hand. Or his gruff voice.

I felt…embarrassed? I haven’t felt this way about someone since middle school. My mind kept replaying that moment in his head. The way he said his own name. The way his arms flexed when he crossed them over his chest.

These scattered thoughts flooded my mind for hours. I couldn’t sleep. I glanced back at Audrey, who was out like a light with a puddle of drool on her pillow. Gritting my teeth, I slowly moved off of the mattress. My eyes stayed locked on her sleeping frame, looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. Sighing, I stepped out of the room. Maybe another drink would quell the thoughts.

I crept down the hallway, walking on my toes. A beam of light caught my eye as I rounded the corner. The kitchen light was on. The steps whined beneath my weight as I descended. Brown eyes locked onto me.

Simon sat at the kitchen island. His right hand was on his computer mouse, the other resting under his chin. He closed his laptop.

My skin felt hot as his eyes ran up and down my body. I tugged at the hem of my shorts, now acutely aware of how they rode up my thighs.

“You’re up late,” he muttered.

“I uh, couldn’t sleep,” I said with a smile that was a little too forced. I stepped into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, jumping when I heard his chair moving from behind me. My fingers wrapped around the neck of another bottle. As I closed the fridge door, a head of grey hair appeared from behind it.

He was closer now, leaning on the kitchen island with a glass in hand.

“Anthropology…” he mumbled, “why’d you choose that?”

“It’s a part of my psychology course,” I explained as I twisted the top off of the bottle. I held the cap in my hand as I took a swig. The amber liquid made my throat tingle as I swallowed. This was more than I’d drank in a while, but I needed it if I wanted to deal with the man in front of me, the man who was slowly stepping closer.

I could feel my heart in my ears as he approached the fridge. His arm bumped into me as he set his cup underneath the water fountain. Out of the corner of his eyes, he stared at me. My face felt hot. I pursed my lips, looking away hoping he wouldn’t see my flushed face.

I heard his throat squelch as he swallowed, not daring to look. He sighed and reached his arm across me. The glass clinked as he set it in the sink. I was waiting for him to pull back, give me room to breathe, but he didn’t budge. My eyes traced up his inked arm, to his face. His eyes were fixated on me, staring through me. I felt naked under his gaze.

“You’re shaking.” He placed a hand on my waist. If anything, his touch made it worse. My entire body was quivering. Whether from nerves or anticipation, I couldn’t tell. He stepped forward, close enough that his thighs brushed against my hip.

“You’re shaking,” he repeated. His fingertips grazed my chin, gently tilting my head up to look at him.

“I know.” My voice was barely a whisper. The corner of his lips curled up into a smirk. He was getting a kick out of this, and somehow that made it even hotter.

“You nervous?” He asked. It didn’t seem like a question if he already knew the answer. His eyes flicked between my lips, and my eyes. Every time his eyes met mine, I could feel it in my stomach.

“I-” I couldn’t get the words out. His lips were on mine. The warmth of his kiss slowly melted away the tension in my muscles. By the time his hands were on my hips, I was putty in his grasp. I hooked my arms around his neck, pulling him down so I didn’t have to stand on my toes. His fingers slid into the waistband of my shorts.

“Wait, I don’t want to wake Audrey,” I pushed my hands against his chest, breaking the kiss.

“So we go to my room.” His tongue slid up my neck. The tips of his fingers grazed along my hipbones but didn’t date to go another inch forward.

“But-”

“When’s the last time you’ve had a good fuck,” he asked, speaking against my neck. He punctuated his words with a kiss along my carotid. My lips pursed. I could feel my hands clench into fists. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this. Audrey was the first friend I’d made all year, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. The throbbing in my core drew my attention. Every inch of my body craved his touch. My head was spinning with desire. My breath grew shallower, quicker, as lust swept over me in full force. I couldn’t take it. There was just something about him. I needed to feel him.

“Please don’t tell her,” I begged. My fingers latched onto the collar of his sweatshirt. He pulled back, just to see the look on my face. My lips were parted, eyes half lidded, and I’m sure the blush on my cheeks had deepened to a red.

“I wouldn’t dare.” He picked me up by my waist and slung me over his shoulder. His palm rested on the small of my back, while his other arm hooked around the back of my legs. Simon approached the stairs, giving my thighs a squeeze as he ascended. He turned right down the hallway. My eyes locked onto Audrey’s door. I could feel my jaw clenching. Should I really be doing this?

The bedroom door clicked shut behind us. My back met the plush bedding. The mattress creaked underneath my weight. Simon pulled his shirt over his head. His muscles were defined, illuminated by the soft lighting. Thickened scar tissue dotted his body like ivy on an old wall. I couldn’t help but feel intimidated as he crawled on the bed.

He sat between my legs. His fingers idly stroked my inner thighs. His stubble scratched the skin of my neck as he leaned in. He pressed kisses to my neck, traveling up to my jaw.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, tugging at the hem of my shorts. My stomach fluttered.

“Yeah,” I spoke softly. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband and began tugging, jolting my body as he pulled them down my hips. I felt my face heat up as his gaze locked onto my cunt. He swiped his index finger through the wetness pooling in my core. The tip of his finger brushed against my clit. A whine caught in my throat.

“I just know you’re not gonna be good for me.” He moved to lie on his stomach. His sharp canines pierced the skin of my thighs. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip to quell the onslaught of moans.

His thumb circled my clit. The movements were slow at first. His eyes locked onto my cunt, almost as if he was waiting for something. I bucked my hips into his hand, and then he stopped. I whined, pouting my lip.

Warm, wet licks against my skin diminished my protests. His hips rutted against the bed as he slowly ate me out. My brows furrowed as his tongue flicked against my clit in sharp movements. Fingertips circled around my entrance before slowly sliding in. He moaned against my cunt. I clamped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to muffle the cry that rose from my chest.

Simon differed from anyone I’d slept with before. Foreplay was never a big part of my escapades, it was always straight to penetration. There was something about a man between my legs, moaning against my cunt, and looking up at me with pleading eyes that made my body heat up.

Every movement of his was deliberate, from the way his fingers curled up ever so slightly with every thrust, to the way his palm rested on my stomach. It was as if he’d cast a spell on my limbs. My toes curled, fingers digging into the sheets. Each thought in my head slowly disappeared, replaced with the feeling of his tongue on my clit. I felt hot and sticky. Beads of sweat rolled down my chest. I gripped my shirt and pulled it from my body.

His hand slid up my stomach until reaching my chest. He gripped my nipple between his index and thumb. My back arched off of the bed. His gaze seemed transfixed on me, soaking in my every reaction with those brown eyes.

I tossed my head against the pillows. My stomach tensed as each flick of his tongue drew me further into bliss. His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking gently. My hand flew to his head, pulling his hair tight. A throbbing pain settled in my face as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. My muscles went taut as I came on his tongue.

He pulled away, skin slick with my wetness. His fingers kept slowly pumping inside of me. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. I could taste myself on his skin. A whine swelled from within my throat. He slid another finger inside me, thrusting alongside the others.

“Simon,” I said against his lips.

“Gotta make sure you can take me, love,” he groaned.

The nickname made my heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. As the haze that clouded my head faded, I became acutely aware of what I was doing. I was fucking my friend’s dad.

“You’re so tense. Come on, open up for me.” I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or my cunt. My breath hitched when his mouth lowered to my chest. He gently bit down on my nipple, laughing at the way it made me squirm. His brows furrowed as he sucked my skin into his mouth.

With a soft pop, he pulled off of my nipple, only to dive back in. He sunk his teeth into my skin. I clenched around his fingers, earning a groan from him. His thumb brushed against my sensitive clit. My voice contorted as the overstimulation made my head swim.

“Fuck, there you go,” He spoke against my skin. “Such a pretty cunt.”

His words pushed me over the edge. I gushed around his fingers. My thighs quivered and clamped down around his hand. I took in heaving breaths as he worked me through my orgasm. I stared down at the man with half-lidded eyes. He smirked, watching my expression as I slowly came down from my high.

The bed shifted as he moved. His grey hair vanished from my peripherals. The drawer to his nightstand slid open with a low rumble. I didn’t bother to turn my head.

When he settled back onto the bed, his jeans were gone. My eyes skimmed down his nude body, settling on his cock, which was now resting on my stomach.

He was right. It was big. The heat that radiated off of his skin drew my thoughts into more perverted places. The head of his cock was flushed and leaking. A single silver barbell protruded from the head of his cock. He lifted my hips and slid a pillow underneath me.

“You on the pill?” He asked, popping open the cap to a bottle of lube.

“Yes.” I watched him slide the lube over his cock.

“Good, cause I don’t have any condoms.”

He pushed one of my knees to my chest. His hand guided his cock to my entrance. With his eyes locked onto me, he slowly pushed inside of me. It burned, almost felt stabbing. I clenched my jaw and gripped his wrist. His hips halted.

“You okay?” His thumb gently stroked my knee with a tenderness that drew my attention away from the pain.

“It hurts,” I said through my teeth.

“We can stop-”

“Please keep going,” I interrupted. He stared at me with wide eyes. With a nod, he pushed forward.

The stabbing pain faded into a more manageable cramping pain. I felt undeniably full. He let go of my leg, instead moving to my stomach to gently stroke my skin. He whispered praises as he sunk deeper inside me. My brows knit as he bottomed out. His hips stilled, eyes fixated on my cunt.

“That’s it, bein’ so good for me.” He groaned. I clenched around his cock, earning a grunt from his heaving chest.

“Simon, please move,” I crossed my ankles behind his back.

He shifted his weight onto his hands, placing them on either side of my head.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

He began thrusting his hips into me at a steady pace. Every jolt of his hips made the mattress squeal beneath us. The sound of our skin slapping echoed throughout the room. He was rough and forceful, bullying his cock deeper into me.

His moans were deep and gravely. Every little noise that came out of him sounded like music. I hooked my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down to my level. His lips clashed against mine, tongue licking against my bottom lip. I parted my lips for him. A moan slipped from me as he slid his tongue into my mouth.

Tears welled in my eyes as the stimulation grew. I wanted more, needed more of him. I bit down on his lip and pulled back, tugging his skin. Something changed in him then. He pulled away and gripped onto the headboard, using the leverage to thrust harder into me. His eyes screwed shut. I could feel him twitch from inside me.

I Clenched around his cock, stomach tensing as my third orgasm rapidly approached. He gripped my chin between his fingers.

“Fuck, you gonna cum?” He asked with his plush lips parted.

My response was an incoherent mess of words and a frantic nod. His thumb went to my clit. He rubbed tight circles into my skin, encouraging me to cum, begging even. I knew he wouldn’t last long with the way his thrusts grew erratic.

With a snap of his hips, I came on his cock, squeezing around him. He grunted, stilling inside me as he came. A stream of moans rose from my throat.

My body felt tingly like tv static as every nerve in my body fired. I felt overstimulated, hot, and sore. I whined as he pulled out. The bed shook as he collapsed onto his side.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and held the screen out to me. It was a “new contact” page. I smirked as I put my number in under the contact labeled “Derek”

“Derek…who are you gonna tell them I am when that name pops up on your screen?” I asked, swinging my leg over his hips.

“Old coworker.” He said with a laugh.

“Old coworker with bomb pussy?” I raised my eyebrows and pouted, scanning his face for a reaction. He smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

“Audrey’s going on vacation with her mom in a couple weeks. Why don’t you come over then?” He ran his hand along my back.

“I’d love to, but speaking of which, I need to get back.” I sat up, grabbing my shorts from the foot of the bed.

I threw my clothes on and hastily tossed my sweat soaked hair into an updo. My fingers grasped the doorknob, gently pulling it open. I waved at Simon before slipping into the hall. As the door closed behind me I sighed.

My brain replayed every minute of our interaction over and over again. The way he touched me with care, got off on eating me out, and checked in on me. What seemed to be basic decency was something I’d been lacking. My stomach fluttered as I thought of seeing him in a couple of weeks. I didn’t regret this, in fact I wanted more of this.

What did I get myself into.

Masterlist

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #read on ao3 #cod fanfic #cod fic #ghost smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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skzhua · 2 years ago

Text

Episode five.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: Swearing, mentions of divorce, mentions of deceased parents, some cringey asf moments.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: I am beyond overwhelmed by the amount of love this series is receiving. It means so much to me, you have no idea. Thank you <3

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

There were bad days, and then there were bad days. And Min Ho was clearly having the second one. After you slammed the door in his face, he dropped on the couch next to Q. He might have hoped a little that his friend was going to be of any moral support but he couldn't be any far from the truth. Q was still pissed at him. In fact, almost everyone he knew was.

Dae came back to the dorm after Q left to go to bed. Seeing Min Ho alone, he greeted him kindly.

"You're here. How was your day?"

"It sucked." Dae gave him a sad look as Min Ho let out a sigh. "It sucked."

He went to sit across him and gave him a sad smile. "What happened earlier, I'm sorry... Things are crazy these days."

"I know, that's why I'm trying to help you." he said in frustration. "Why are you keeping secrets from me? You didn't even tell me you were dating Yuri all summer... And why did you tell Kitty about Poopy Baby?"

Dae gulped, not saying anything back.

"Are you really my friend?"

He let himself fall back on the seat in defeat. "I'm such garbage."

"Well, at least you know that."

"Hey. You still have feelings for her, right?" he was replied with a hum. "If I can be honest, I saw something today. On the Internet. Randomly! Accidentally!"

There was a pause before Dae hopped on his chair as he suggested they play Overwatch. After agreeing to order hot wings and do face masks, Kitty walked in and rushed to go see Q in his room. Dae's stare lingered to the door and Min Ho snapped him out of it.

Overhearing it all, you heard them call Kitty out of the room to show her something. Curiosity got the best of you, so you joined the others and walked up behind Q to watch what was going on. The sight horrified you. Why would someone stream their roommate in their sleep?

"What? My roommate put me on some weird website as I was sleeping." Kitty scoffed.

"I don't see the appeal." Min Ho sighed.

"And yet you somehow found the site."

He looked at you as you grabbed his attention but only received a death stare from your part. You definitely needed to work on your weird dynamic.

"Kitty, you should move." Dae said, more like an command than a suggestion. "You can't live with this girl anymore."

Q nodded. "Yeah, I agree with Dae. This is kind of sketchy."

She huffed. "I tried but there is no other room."

"Uh, how about a hotel? My driver could take you right now." Min Ho offered although he was well aware this wasn't an option.

"I can't afford that for an entire semester."

"I'm sure Dae can hook you up with a discount at Han Hotels."

"Shut up, Min Ho." you said, growing more annoyed with him by the second.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Just trying to help."

"You helped enough today."

Before another argument broke, Q's face brightened as an idea popped in his mind. He offered to switch rooms with Dae for Kitty to come live with the rest of you again. In secret. Though unsure, she agreed because of how much she couldn't take her roommate anymore.

Chuseok used to be your favourite day of the year. You would have a delicious meal with your parents at home, free of worries and problems. Your mom's japchae was what truly kept the tradition living. Needless to say, their death definitely left its mark on you but it became easier with time. And tomorrow, you were going to enjoy it to the fullest. At least try to.

Kitty had spontaneously offered to organize a Chuseok for the expats of the school and begged you to help her out. You would have turned it down but her pleas were almost getting on your nerves that you gave in. She asked you about traditional meals you'd cook with your own family and you put together a list of ingredients she would need to buy. As the list only got longer, you opted to go grocery shopping together.

"Can you get soy sauce? I'll get the gochugaru."

You went to the end of the aisle as she called out for you to ask which kind of sauce she needed to get. Being already in front of the gochugaru, you assumed she could wait a second more for you to pick it up. You crouched down to get it off the shelf. Satisfied with the brand you chose, you got up and were greeted by Min Ho standing in front of you, a basket in hands. His shoulders dropped as you stared back at each other, you doing the same.

"You're seriously everywhere." he complained.

"It's not like I intend on seeing you everywhere."

Kitty came next to you with her cart, having picked out herself a random bottle of soy sauce. "Min Ho."

"And Kitty? You two are like my own sasaengs." he scoffed which Kitty seemed to not have understood.

"What's a sasaeng?" she asked, confirming your thoughts.

"Like a very obsessed fan." you explained. "But we're not."

"Yeah, sure." he smirked at you.

"What are you even doing in a grocery store?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah." you added. "Shouldn't you be on a yatch being rich and annoying?"

He faked a smile. "My dad is doing that with wife number three with her new fillers. I have decided to stay here as a favour to all women who want a piece of me this Chuseok."

He sent you a look before pulling a box of chocolates out of his basket. You could do nothing but roll your eyes at how pathetic it looked.

"Strawberries and chocolate? I'm going to be sick." Kitty said in a boring tone.

"I'm sure Lulu would appreciate it."

This caught your attention. "Lulu? The pop star? You got her to be one of your Min Hoes?"

He scoffed as his infamous smug look appeared. "That's cute, puppy. And she's only the fastest rising popstar in the country."

"And?" Kitty said, not sure what point he was trying to make.

He held up his phone to show you a picture of Lulu but you only frowned.

"We've been flirting since her trainee days." he justified.

"What a surprise." you said sarcastically.

Nonetheless, you couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach. It felt like it was ripping apart and you only hoped it didn't mean what you thought it meant.

"She's on break from tour for the holiday. Even K-Pop stops for Chuseok." he continued.

"Okay." Kitty said, unimpressed.

Min Ho analyzed the content of your cart and frowned at you. Taking a pack that laid on top of the rest of your items, he showed it to you.

"Do you even know what to do with this?"

You snatched it back from him. "We're fine, thanks."

"I am admittedly entering new territory but with the help of TikTok, Y/N, and a positive attitude, I'll manage just fine." Kitty said and you facepalmed. "If not, I've won awards for my mashed potatoes."

She was about to push her cart forward and walk away but Min Ho stopped her. "No, no, no. As a Korean national, I cannot in good conscience let you desecrate my native cuisine like this."

"You do know I'll be doing most of the cooking, right?" you asked.

He acted as if he hadn't heard you and dropped his basket in your cart before removing Kitty from her spot to push it himself. "Do you want to poison your classmates or do you need my help?"

"Min Ho." you exhaled.

"This is me being kind right now."

Kitty sighed. "Fine. But I'm still making my mashed potatoes."

You and Min Ho groaned at her words and walked towards the next aisle. She followed behind in panic, telling you to not mess her system up.

While she was watching you two add products to the cart, you kept on bickering on anything really. Disagreeing on certains articles, disputing over a certain dish he wanted to cook, complaining about what you wanted to make...

You managed to go up to the cash register and he insisted on paying for it all. Having fought enough with him, you didn't protest and he helped you and Kitty with getting everything back to the dorm.

You got up from bed earlier than usual, wanting to focus on the side dishes you planned on making. It was going to take a while to get everything done so the sooner you started, the better.

What you didn't expect was to see Min Ho already standing in the kitchen as he dressed in a black tank top with a funny-looking apron over it. He didn't see you right away but he was quick to do so when you let a laugh slip out of your mouth.

"Well, well. Who's decided to be an early bird this morning?" he snickered, referring to your usual moody self when you wake up.

"Looks like we've had the same idea. I wanted to start cooking right away." you said as you went to stand next to him. "Need help?"

He shook his head. "I'm good. You can start on the budae jjigae, though."

Doing as told, you took the ingredients out of the refrigerator and Min Ho moved his own material to leave you space to work. It was silent but unlike normally, it felt nice. You almost dared to think that you liked being this comfortable with him.

"What's this?" you asked about the basket on the stool.

"My mom got it for me, my love language is gifts."

"I would have never guessed." you joked.

"She sent it from Los Angeles since she couldn't be here." He looked down. "We usually spend Chuseok together."

You smiled sadly. "It must suck, I get that. My parents and I never missed Chuseok together. Well, until... yeah."

"Right."

He cleared his throat to ease the tension and continued to chop his onions. You watched him go at it and were pleasantly surprised by his skills.

"I would have never guessed you knew how to cook. Nor would I have expected you to help Kitty. I suppose you can be nice."

He gave you a side eye. "I'm famously anti-Kitty, I'm only doing this to honour our traditional food properly."

"Try to convince me. You have a soft spot."

He chuckled while shaking his head. "Well, if you want me to be nice so badly, should I ask if you're okay?"

You cocked your head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"With your parents and all. I bet it's not easy."

You nodded. "Yeah, definitely a difficult holiday." you breathed out.

"I'm sorry but can I ask what happened?"

You looked at him and saw his eyes softened. "It's..." you hesitated. "They had a business trip and never came back." you kept it short

He rubbed your arm and you shivered at the contact. "That's awful. I'm sure they're looking after you. They must be proud."

Your breath hitched as you felt his head hover yours. You didn't dare to look up but you knew he was looking at you.

"Thank you, Min Ho."

You felt him breathe on the top of your head. It was unsteady and hot, you felt like you were about to melt.

"Good morning." Kitty yawned, coming to join the two of you.

You jumped away from each other and focused back on your tasks, attempting to forget what had just happened. "Hey, slept well?"

"I guess." she yawned again. "Oh, Pepero." she said excitedly and reached out to get it from Min Ho's gift from his mother.

He slapped her hand away. "Don't."

Hours of cooking went by and you were happy to have almost forgotten about your moment with Min Ho. Almost. Having finished with your budae jjigae, you sat at the stool and watched Kitty make her mashed potatoes. Growing bored, you connected your phone to the speakers and scrolled through your playlists to find something to add to the ambiance. After selecting one song, you heard a phone buzzing. Min Ho took his device out and smiled as he replied to a text.

"Confirmed Lulu will be at the premises at 8pm." he said with a smirk before putting his phone away.

Your stomach felt weird again.

"I'm sure she'll love the chocolate." Kitty smiled sarcastically.

"The chocolate was actually for," he began to say and moved his gaze to focus on you. "someone else."

Kitty eye-judged him as she kept mixing her potatoes.

"Hey, don't judge." he exclaimed. "Not all people need to be star-crossed lovers to be compatible. Like, hot people, for example." he pointed to himself. "We can, and want to play the field."

You mentally thanked him for saying that as it gave you a reminder that he was nothing but a jackass. That helped the weird tug in your belly go away.

"That's because you haven't found your perfect match." she looked at you for a second and you coughed in disapproval.

Min Ho grunted. "I've found many, many matches."

"I'm just saying, I've seen the magic when people find the one." she smiled to herself.

"That's sweet to think, Kitty." you said in a bored voice, not believing in what she was saying.

"Y/N's right. My parents both thought they found the one." Min Ho continued. "They were the 'it' couple. Beautiful, young starlet. Chaebol heir. The tabloids literally called them the perfect match. Look at them now."

Visibly, the divorce of his parents seemed to have impacted him more than he would admit. You kind of felt bad but, again, this was Min Ho. He didn't deserve your empathy.

"I'm sorry." you let yourself spill out unintentionally.

He shrugged. "Whatever."

Kitty coughed to clear the atmosphere and served him a bowl of her potatoes for him to taste. He took a spoonful of it and hummed as it was better than he thought.

"It must be weird to have people know all about your family." you continued on topic.

You were glad that he didn't mind keeping on telling you about it. "They think they know, they don't really. That's my point."

You nodded in agreement and he continued.

"There's really only one thing that matters at the end of the day."

"Which is what?" Kitty asked curiously.

"The truth." he responded as if it was obvious.

You helped Kitty with organizing the place. As more people came to her gathering, you welcomed everyone nicely by offering them drinks. You saw Q and Florian arrive and joined Kitty's side to say hello.

"Wow." Q breathed out in amazement. "People are calling this Chingu-seok."

"What?" Kitty asked and you were starting to wonder if she really was working on her Korean like she told you she was.

"It's a pun with chinggu, which means 'friends' and Chuseok." Florian explained. "You started a new tradition."

She was in awe but it was ruined when her eyes spotted Professor Lee. "Oh, no. Why is he here?"

"Because he's sad and lonely." Min Ho answered making you almost choke in your orange juice. "Mind helping me, Y/N?"

You followed him to the main table where you had placed the food dishes. He passed you a bowl of cold noodles and asked you to bring them to a table. As he was placing a plate himself, Madison appeared out of nowhere and waved at him.

"Min Ho, hi."

He shut his eyes closed, clearly not wanting to converse with her. "Hello, Madison."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here." she frowned but then noticed the plate he was holding. "Oh my God, you cooked."

"Yes, but I'm not staying long. Got a date tonight."

You had heard enough and moved to the entrance to invite people in. The weird knot in your belly came back and you absolutely hated it. You hated even more that Min Ho was seemingly the cause of it.

"Y/N!" he called out for you again.

With a lack of enthusiasm, you came to him and he asked you to put the plates away with him. Madison had left so you saw no problem in giving him a hand. Happy with the result, you went to Kitty's table together and stopped to look for which seat to take. You sat at the edge of the table, two seats away from your professor. Although awkward, Kitty was going to be in front of you anyway. Plus, you were only there to enjoy the food.

"Hey."

You raised an eyebrow at Min Ho. "You're sitting here? Willingly?"

He repositioned himself on the seat next to you and shook his head. "No. Yes? Just drop it."

"My bad."

Q insisted for Kitty to make a toast and she did a great job as she mentioned sweet thoughts such as gathering together and her mother. She ended her speech with a 'cheers' and you clang your drinks together. With Min Ho's first.

"Happy Chuseok, little pup." he nudged your shoulder. "Thank you for the food."

"Thank you to you too." you smiled.

You started to serve yourself and were, honestly, overwhelmed by how much food there was. You wanted to taste each one of them.

"Can you pass the japchae?" Min Ho asked Q.

Your head rose from the mention of this specific food. "You made japchae?"

He put it down in front of you two. "Yeah, first thing this morning. Didn't you see?"

You shook your head as a no. "I haven't eaten that in years."

Min Ho brought your plate closer and dumped some in it. "Dig in."

The last time you had actual good japchae was at your last Chuseok with your parents. None had own up to it so far and you were curious to see if his cooking skills were as good as he claimed them to be. You took a bite and chewed slowly. Your eyes grew bigger and you shook his shoulder.

"This tastes exactly like my mom's."

He chuckled. "Really? She might have sent you my way so you could taste it."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't ruin the moment."

He shrugged. "I'm just saying." he checked his phone quickly. "I'm off... to fulfill my destiny."

"Ah, Lulu?" you asked and he wiggled his eyebrows at you while getting up.

"Can't wait to read about it tomorrow." Q commented.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Kitty stopped him.

"Hello, hot date with popstar? Later, sasaeng." he tapped her head and walked away.

You felt disappointed he left. Of course, you would never admit it out loud. To suppress the annoying tingle that seemed to never go away from your chest, you focused on the japchae. Taking more and more bites of it, you reminisced your parents. You missed them terribly. But you were convinced they were watching you and you wanted to make them proud. Min Ho said they would be, after all.

And there it was again, Min Ho coming to your mind. You tried to shake it off but he simply wouldn't go away. And now you pictured him being with his date at this exact moment...

Ping.

You took out your phone from your pocket and read the messages you had just gotten.

Min Ho: Y/N!

Min Ho: Y/N, answer!

Min Ho: Help me!

Min Ho: I don't know who else to call, come help me!

He was definitely going to be the death of you. Putting your pride aside, you left the dinner to head to the school's entrance. You looked around but there was no one. You yelled out his name a few times but you were left unanswered. As you were about to give up and go back to the others, Min Ho's head popped out of the bushes.

"What the hell did Kitty put in those potatoes?"

You looked at him curiously. "What the- Weren't you going out just now?"

"Y/N, answer, please."

You shrugged. "Milk, cheese... I heard her mention it."

He squinted his eyes in shame. "Really, that little piece of-"

"Min Ho." you stopped him but he then groaned in pain and you heard his tummy rumble. "Awe, Poopy Baby. Are you okay? Do you need help with the potty?" you teased him.

"Real funny." he said while his face stayed still. "Lulu could come any minute now. You have to get rid of her. She can't see me like this. But keep her hooked on me."

You scoffed. "And why would I do that?"

"If her fans find out, I'm done for."

"Sounds like a you problem." you replied and started to walk away.

The sound of a car brought your attention back to where Min Ho was and you immediately connected that this was Lulu. Cursing at yourself, you turned back on your heels and greeted the idol with a forced smile.

"Hi." you bowed at her as she stepped out of the car. "Min Ho's running late."

"Who are you?" she asked in a bored voice.

"Min Ho's fanclub president, first in line for a date night with him."

You wanted to die just then and there. Fanclub president, what were you thinking?

"Uh?" she said, confused.

"My date with him just ended. I can't believe I even got to see him up close."

And more will to bury yourself ten thousand miles deep.

"That jerk double-booked me?"

You smiled, almost afraid of what you were going to say next. "He is the most handsome guy at school. I'm not going to lie, he ruined me for other guys. He's just so... well, you know."

"Intriguing... But I refuse to come second. You tell him I come back at 6pm tomorrow night. And that he better clear off the rest of his schedule."

"Oh." was all that you could say.

"When he has a night with me, he won't be seeing anyone else after."

She got back into the car, not leaving you time to say something back, and took off. Min Ho scoffed in disbelief.

"How did you do that?"

"Talent?" you answered, although it came out more like a question. "You owe me."

"I know, I know."

You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. "Well, I'll go now."

"Y/N, wait."

Halting on your steps, you looked at him, confused, and waited for him to go on. He cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at you.

"The chocolate. It was for you. You can take them when you get home."

You froze. "For me?"

"Yeah." he affirmed and finally looked at you. "As an apology for the other day when I yelled."

You let out a small laugh. "Love language is gifts, uh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Say thank you and we move on?"

"Thank you, Min Ho." you smiled.

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

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persnicketypomelo · 1 year ago

Text

obsession, vampires, supernatural abilities, mentions of biting

Special Halloween series

Vampire Erik Headcanons

Going for a more general approach, but pulling mostly from the book

Erik already exhibits many…nocturnal qualities as it is, even without adding any supernatural elements

He is not all too keen on sunlight; lives far below the opera house in isolation from society; prefers to lurk, unseen, in the dark

His skin is sickly and lifeless, weathered like parchment, and his skeletal frame struggles to fill the clothes he wears

Even in the book, he seems never to need to eat or drink

He even sleeps in a coffin!

If anything, being a vampire makes Erik’s every eccentricity connect naturally

Erik rarely feeds as he prefers to keep to himself in the solitude of his dwelling

But when the need eventually strikes, he makes a great event of it, wandering to the surface at nightfall, selecting his target with deliberation

He generally tries to target those who would not be missed from the world: traffickers, evildoers, the corrupt

Though he is by no means a force of good in any way

The phantom is careful not to drink from those in the opera house

As it stands, his relationship with the workers and management is strained at best, even before the new managers come along

The last thing he wants is to egg even more fools into pestering him and attempting to flush him out more than they already do

But in the case of unfortunate stragglers who wander into his domain of their own volition…

Well, let’s say his policy of not feeding from the members of the opera house can be overlooked in these…extenuating circumstances

When Joseph Bouquet’s body was found, dangling from a rope, curiously, two inexplicable punctures in the side of his neck were present as well

And when it comes to you...

His hands quiver at touching you, not only due to depravity of human contact, but also from a vast, irrepressible desire for your blood

Despite his gaunt frame, his vampiric nature grants him supernatural strength

His hand shudders with restraint, knowing that he could easily break you if he is not careful, knowing that he could lose control if his thirst clouds his reason

I think this version of Erik would be more patient and restrained than the normal iteration of himself

Age and wisdom mellows out his more extreme tendencies

Furthermore, the extreme speed, strength, and hunger means he has had to develop the maturity to curb his emotional outbursts, as indulging them could wreak havoc

Even with all the comparative wisdom this vampiric version of Erik has garnered, he is still so helplessly allured to your youth and innocence

And if you show acceptance and empathy not only towards his physical flaws, but also to his supranatural side...

Needless to say, the Phantom is beyond smitten, harbouring an obsession too fiery and intense to even possibly contain

Being the object of his fixation is even more dire for you with this version of Erik

His heightened senses can easily catch wind of your position, smelling your trail with the ease of a bloodhound

You have no hope of outrunning him, overpowering him, or even the permanence of his death

If escaping the human version of the Phantom seems a nigh impossible task, then it will take a divine miracle to escape vampire Erik

It is best for your own sake that you avoid ever attracting his interest

Else live the rest of your life by the side of an immortal being with no possibility of escape

#x reader #reader insert #phantom of the opera #erik destler #obsessive #yandere #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera x reader #headcanons #erik phantom #vampire #halloween #all hallows eve #poto

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 1 month ago

Text

Jesus | Until The End Of The Ages | Platonic

Reality and dream state collide when a young woman from the future is found on the side of the road.

Requested by Stellar

On their way back from the market, Matthew, Andrew and Philip are enjoying the warmth of the lowering sun as midday drifts slowly into the late afternoon. Their trip has been successful, with the best fruits available, just the right amount of wine skins left at the vendor, with the exact kind of bread that had been requested available at the baker’s stand. Needless to say, the three men have a spring in their step when they head back to camp, eager to relax and wait for Thomas and Mary to prepare a flavourful stew for tonight.

“No one is going to miss it,” Andrew says out loud more to himself than to the others as he puts a few pistachios into his mouth, munching on them happily, “We’ve got plenty, I’m peckish and deserving of a snack after our hard labour.”

Matthew hums and rubs his neck. “We were at market for about an hour. If you take our travelling time into the equation, which is about forty minutes in total, and consider the price of pistachios, paired with the median salary of a man of our age, I’d say you’d have the right to eat exactly seventeen—”

“—I will eat as many pistachios as I’d like.” Andrew cuts off the former tax collector, “But I have to admit that your calculations are impressive. Tell me, how do you even find out the salary of the everyday man if it happens to change due to taxes being levied—”

“Stop!” Philip suddenly exclaims, halting in his step. Matthew nearly collides with his back. “Is that a person over there?” His face pales at the discovery.

Andrew and Matthew follow their friend’s gaze and allow it to settle on a figure laying in the low grass. Their hearts sink upon the sight where a person is indeed on the side of the road.

A second later, Philip and Andrew rush towards the person — a young woman, judging by her face — who is unconscious. Matthew remains at a safe distance, fiddling with his handkerchief as he looks around to see if there is anyone nearby who may know more about this situation. “There are no flies. She might be still alive,” he comments, a bit more at ease. At least they didn’t find a corpse.

Taking in her appearance, Philip frowns. Her clothes are different from what is usual around here — she is wearing a baggy shirt with behind her head something that seems like a hood usually seen on cloaks. There is an image on the front of it — not embroidered but just as bright, if not brighter than actual thread — a drawing that looks like as if it is pressed onto the fabric with glue. The image resembles a face with a tongue sticking out of its mouth, but instead of eyes, the face has two small yellow crosses instead. “What does ‘Nirvana’ mean?” Matthew wonders out loud as he reads the text that is written above the drawing.

The woman is also wearing a pair of trousers, which is odd in and of itself, for none of the men have ever seen a female sport such an item of clothing, let alone such a tight one, made from a type of fabric they are all unfamiliar with. Instead of sandals, she has bright pink shoes around her feet. Matthew finds the sight both intriguing and frankly a little off-putting.

“She looks like she isn’t from Judea.” Andrew says, “I’m not sure how they dress in other parts of the world, though.”

“Most probably not like this.” Philip replies, “But regardless of who she is and where she came from, we can’t leave her here.”

Philip slides the bag of groceries from his shoulder and puts it in Andrew’s lap before leaning towards you. “Hello? Can you hear me? Are you alright?”

The woman starts to rouse from what seems like a deep sleep, her eyes squinting against the sunlight. As she opens them, she startles a bit, staggering back a little on her hands and feet as she comes face to face with three strangers. “I— What? Where am I? Who are you?”

Suddenly, you are fully conscious again.

“We were wondering the same about you.” Andrew tells you, “But calm down. We mean you no harm.”

Stumbling to your feet, it takes you a moment to regain your balance. Slowly, you let your eyes go over your new environment. “This… Isn’t my house…”

“You’re in Judea. We are just outside of Jericho.”

“Jericho? As in, the city of which the walls fell down?” you swallow hard, “The Bible story?”

“What’s a Bible?” Matthew asks. You run a hand through your hair as panic wells up inside your chest. Suddenly, your hoodie feels way too warm for the climate you’re in.

“I was in my room, reading about Jesus, but I got distracted, so I started scrolling on my social media… Somehow, I fell asleep with my phone in my hand, and… I woke up here.”

“What’s a phone?” Andrew breathes in confusion.

“You mentioned Jesus.” Philip notes. “As in, Jesus from Nazareth?”

Your eyes find his. “Yes!” you instantly exclaim, “Yes, I was reading the Gospel of Matthew—”

“Hm?” the former tax collector hums as he hears his name, and a few moments of awkward silence fall over the four of you.

“What is your name?”

“I’m (Y/n),” you introduce yourself, “And who are you?”

“I am Philip, and these are my friends Matthew and Andrew. We are followers of Jesus of Nazareth.”

You let out a scoff of disbelief, stepping closer to the three men. Then, you start to laugh. “I don’t know what kind of elaborate prank this is, but it’s a good one. Ha, ha, really funny, guys! Please show me where the hidden cameras are.”

“The hidden what?” Andrew frowns.

You grab your phone from your pocket to check your reception, but find none. “What kind of wax tablet is that?” Matthew asks.

“Oh, that’s an iPhone. I’ve got a tablet at home, from the brand Samsung—”

“—Can we not get distracted for a moment, please? What is ‘hidden cameras’?” Andrew sounds genuinely worried.

“And who is Nirvana?” Matthew adds. “I’ve never heard of him.”

You let your eyes go from one man to the other as it starts to dawn on you. “What year is it?”

“It’s the ninth of Heshvan, 3791—”

“—Before or after Christ?”

All three of them frown in confusion. “Huh?”

“Are you telling me it’s not the 24th of October, 2024?”

Matthew clears his throat and turns to Philip. “Do you think this woman is crazy?”

You let out a scoff of disbelief at his words. “Crazy? I think this prank is crazy—”

“—No, she isn’t, Matthew.” Philip calmly states. “I know just as much as you do. But I have a feeling that we need to go and see Jesus about this.”

“Jesus, as in, the actual Jesus? Jesus the Messiah? Jesus Who died on the cross and rose again on the third day to save us from our sins?”

Silence as all three of them gawk at you. “Yeah, I think we need to go see Jesus.” Andrew mutters, “I think He can decide whether she is crazy or not, or take care of whatever may have gotten into her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Once again, I’m not—”

‘—Let’s not argue, please.” Philip is the voice of reason, as he usually is, “Let Jesus figure it out.”

“Ha, that’s what I often say whenever I’m mad at someone,” you quip. “Let Jesus take the wheel so that I don’t do something I might regret later.”

Matthew frowns. “Why would Jesus take the wheel? That would incapacitate the wagon, no?”

“It’s not the wheel of a wagon, it’s the wheel of a…” you swallow as you rub your neck. “I am really in the first century, aren’t I?”

“First century?”

“Ah, forget about it. It will make more sense in about two-and-a-half years or so.”

Andrew rushes to walk onto your other side. “Are you implying that you are from the future?” With a shrug, you nod. “Compared to whatever this setting seems to be, yes.” Slowly but surely, you start to doubt that these are just a few actors just trying to pull your leg. It would be too elaborate of a prank to be one.

A camp springs up on the horizon and you approach it. “You said you know Jesus,” Philip pipes up. “Where are you from, that you heard from Him?”

“Oh, I’m from (your/Hometown). But in the age in which I live, the entire world has heard about Jesus. There are Christians— I mean, followers of Him, everywhere around the Earth.”

The Disciples look at one another in both puzzlement and awe, trying to determine whether you are truly from the future or playing a joke on them. They don’t have time to question you further about it at the moment, for the moment you set foot in camp, everyone approaches you with much interest.

“Who is that?”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“What kind of clothes are you wearing?”

“I’m Mary, who are you?”

Overwhelmed with the many questions, you let out a light laugh. “I’m (Y/n) from (y/H) and I’m from the year 2024— Ah, let me do the calculations… From the year 5785.”

“Woah, are you serious?” Someone steps into your personal space to inspect you closer. “Tell us more about yourself! What is this outfit you are wearing, you look so strange!”

“Nathanael, manners!” Philip says. “We found her on the side of the road, unconscious. I think we should allow her to sit down and give her something to eat and drink first.”

You give Philip a grateful look as he guides you towards a log next to a fire, shadowed by a dozen curious people. As Mary hands you a cup of water, everyone starts introducing themselves.

“I’m Big James,” says one man, crossing his arms over his chest. “This is my brother, John.”

“Ah, John,” you smile a bit, “You’ve written my favourite Gospel.”

He puts a hand on his chest, confused. “Me?” You nod, smiling gratefully as Andrew hands you a piece of flatbread. “Yeah,” you reply before taking a bite. Matthew rubs his neck and flicks through his notes as he takes in that information. You notice it, swallow the food and smile. “Your Gospel is just as valuable, Matthew.”

Then, a few others step forward. “My name is Thaddeus, and these are my friends Little James and Thomas.”

“Aha, Thomas, as in the doubter.”

The man in question frowns, causing you to sigh in realisation. “Oh, yeah, don’t mind me.”

“This is Simon,” Andrew introduces his older brother.

“Simon Peter?”

The older son of Jonah plants his hands on his hips. “Simon who?”

“Oh, you haven’t received the new name yet. Got it. How is your wife?”

“How did you know that I’m married?”

You smile a bit. “Oh, it’s mentioned in the Bible that Jesus healed your mother-in-law.”

“How do you know about Dasha? And— What’s a Bible?!”

You wave your hand dismissively. “I really need to change my vocabulary around here.”

Nathanael bumps Simon the Zealot’s arm. “She really is from the future! What do you think Jesus will say?” Zee pulls a thoughtful face.

“I’m not sure what He will say. Is He back from His prayers yet?”

“I don’t know, but He has been gone for a while.”

More followers introduce themselves. There are Tamar and Ramah, whose names don’t ring a bell to you. There is Simon the former Zealot, also known as Zee, and then there is…

Your eyes narrow as a blue-eyed young man watches you curiously. “Judas Iscariot?” your tone is cold as you repeat the name he introduces himself with. He gives you a small nod.

“Yes, I am—”

“—You are…” you start pointing a finger at him, “One of the most—”

“—We have a guest among us, I see.” A voice behind you interrupts the things you are about to say, and frankly that is for the best. Your heart skips a beat as everything in your soul suddenly rears in its place, your body moving to turn around on its own accord. Coming face to face with a pair of deep-set, dark eyes, you feel all air leave your lungs.

“It’s You,” you whisper, “Are You really— Is this a dream, Lord? Am I—”

Jesus puts a hand on your shoulder, warmth flooding you as He leads you away from the group. “It is good to see you here,” He begins, “but you and I both know that you aren’t supposed to be here.”

“What is happening?” Your vision blurs with tears. “I’ve imagined it countless times, what it would be like to see You for the first time. The things I would say to You— I just hadn’t expected it to be in this way, and that my first question would be whether this is a dream or not.”

Jesus chuckles gently. “I know, (Y/n), I know.”

“I was just reading my Bible, and— I’m sorry, I got distracted by my phone. I fell asleep and… Well, I woke up here.”

“You know you haven’t woken up yet.” Jesus tells you, “Not truly.”

“But this feels real.”

“The line between reality and your dream world is a bit blurred sometimes. Now, I would like you to stay with us for dinner, but after that, you need to go. You have a life of your own. Do you understand that, My daughter?”

You swallow hard and nod. “Yes… Of course, yes. I…” You laugh a bit. “I thought I would cry the first time I saw You.” Biting your lip, your eyes sting. “Oh, I am starting to do so anyways.”

Smiling kindly at you, Jesus pulls you into an embrace. You instantly melt into it, hugging Him close. “That feels good,” you whisper, “Way better than I ever imagined. Like… Coming home after being lost on the road for ages. Or like… Sinking into a warm bath after a long day of work… But somehow even better. Something I…” you sniffle, “Something I cannot quite describe. I don’t know how to thank You, Lord.”

“You have plenty of time to thank Me later, for everything I did… Am still going to do.” You hum and smile a bit. “But I need to ask you something. When I approached you just now, I overheard you speaking to Judas. You were about to say some very vile things to him.” Jesus pulls back from the hug and cups your face in His hands. “I must ask you to not do that. Judas plays a role in this story, too. His heart will darken, yes, but that is due to his own choices, his own accord. Saying certain things to him now will not change that, and being angry with him doesn’t make it easier. He is My friend. This is hurting Me, too. So please, let the Father carry out His plan for the sake of the world.”

Protesting it is of no use, and you know that He is right. Of course He is, so you nod and smile at Him.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Thank You for allowing me to stay for dinner.”

Jesus hums and looks you in the eye. “And afterwards,” He says, “You will go back home to (y/H), wake up in your room and…”

“…Read my Bible,” you finish His sentence, and He chuckles, smiling.

“That’s right.”

You hug Him again, allowing yourself to relax into the embrace, committing the feeling to memory. This will definitely help your Bible come to life, you think to yourself, as you enjoy the moment for a while longer.

You dread the moment you’ll have to wake up again, but at the very same time, you are looking forward to whatever comes after, for not only is life a gift from God in and of itself and you are eager to live it, but you are also keen to get into a closer relationship with God, so that you may see Jesus and His followers again in the Kingdom of heaven one day.

#the chosen #reader insert #the chosen x reader #chosen x reader #platonic #jesus x reader #the chosen jesus #jonathan roumie

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boobo13cambridge · 2 years ago

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Drifting Apart I | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x f.Reader

Warnings: Angst, physical violence (Y/N slaps him)

Summary: Y/N and Kylian’s relationship is crumbling as they navigate the most difficult moments of their lives. Will they stay or fall apart due to the pressure?

A/N: Hello, everyone! This is the first time I’ve ever written angst, so I really hope you guys give it much love. As always don’t forget to like, comment, and repost! Enjoy, lovelies ❣️

Tired.

Exhausted.

Drained.

Three words that fully encompassed her emotions as she finally put the triplets to sleep after a long day of cleaning up dirty diapers and writing a thesis. Y/N felt close to tears as she felt overwhelming guilt for being worn out at taking care of her babies when she loved them with all her heart. To make matters worse, she and Kylian had been getting into a lot of arguments lately. She knew how important and stressful this year was for him, and in the back of her mind, she wished that they had waited a bit more before having kids.

After getting married in the summer of 2021, the young couple wanted to enjoy a few years together before starting a family. Getting married so young, at the ripe age of 20 and 22, came as quite a shock to some (which in her eyes didn't make sense because a lot of footballers had kids even younger), but they were in love, and despite their parents' skepticism, they tied the knot on July 12, 2021.

Fast forward a year, and Y/N found herself staring at the two dark lines indicating that she's pregnant. Getting pregnant a few months before the 2022 World Cup was definitely not part of the plan, but with the support of their families, they made it through somehow. Throughout her whole pregnancy, Kylian was the best husband any woman could ever ask for, always so attentive and understanding of her every need. When they found out they were having triplets, and all boys at that, Y/N almost had a mental breakdown because she could never in a million years understand how she could ever be a mom to one kid, let alone three. It took Kylian, her mom, and two nurses and a doctor to calm her down.

And needless to say, the triplets, or as Kylian loves to call them 'his perfect hat-trick,' were born on December 4, 2022, right when Kylian had scored two goals to qualify France for the quarter-finals. In all honesty, she really wished she could have just given birth in Doha, but she was under strict surveillance and wasn't allowed to travel. Needless to say, in the moment, she was quite happy that she was having a c-section instead of a normal birth but regretted that soon after as it took way longer to recover. Kylian was definitely devastated to have missed his sons' birth and was this close to booking a flight back to Paris. It took Marcus and Ousmane to calm him down and talk him out of it.

A couple of days after that, France lost the World Cup, which absolutely broke her heart, but she was happy that her husband would be by her side. Post-World Cup, Kylian Mbappé was a very attentive father and husband, but she knew how much the loss had affected him and tried her best to cheer him up. She was secretly glad he had injured himself because he would finally get a break from playing with such a shitty team. Now, back to the present, May 28th, 2024, Post-Transfer Kylian Mbappé was moody and had a frown permanently etched on his forehead.

Once again, she tried to understand, knowing he had so much pressure on his shoulders from transferring to Real Madrid. He was Kylian Mbappé, the current greatest footballer, and people never gave him a break, always demanding perfection every match. He had a huge burden to carry, with the fans pointing out every little mistake he made on the pitch. The Madridistas had long anticipated his transfer, and they were out for blood. If the fans were demanding, then Kylian was even more demanding of himself. It was like living with the shadow of her husband. Gone was the sweet man who would make her breakfast in bed and massage her feet. In his place was someone who only had one thing on his mind: winning everything.

La Liga, Copa del Rey, Supercopa de España, UEFA Champions League, Euros, Summer Olympic Games.

She was going crazy just thinking about it. Lately, it was as if the only thing on his mind was trophies, and she couldn't stand it. The day before the La Liga final, which was held at the Bernabeu just two days ago, Kylian had once again started an argument just because she told him that she was tired of putting his dirty clothes in the laundry and that he should do it himself. The argument was so bad that she didn't even want to be there at the last match of the La Liga season, but on the day of the match, Kylian had profusely apologized and begged, so she forgave him and came to see him lift the trophy. This morning, Kylian had woken up in a foul mood and just seemed to want to be an absolute dickhead. He nitpicked at everything she did before leaving for practice, loudly complaining that she had put too much protein powder in his shake.

The whole day, she tried to text him and call him, but he was ignoring her calls. She had had enough; she couldn't deal with it anymore. Time and time again, she had tried to be understanding, swallowing and smiling through every single complaint and whine he let out. So what if he had his first Champions League final with his new club in three days? She didn't deserve to be treated like such a nuisance.

As she went to the kitchen to grab something to drink, she broke down into sobs. It was too much. She hated feeling like she wasn't enough. Kylian hadn't kissed her, much less said, "I love you," before storming out. For months, all he did was complain, complain, and complain.

The young woman heard the door open and close, instantly recognizing her lover's footsteps. She tried to muffle her sobs so he wouldn't hear, but she forgot that the kitchen lights were on.

Kylian walked right through the archway leading to the kitchen and stopped in his tracks when he saw her teary face, instantly feeling guilty. He knew he had been treating her horribly these past few months and that he should stop, but he had been so stressed with everything that he took it all out on the love of his life and the mother of his children.

"Bébé, are you okay?" he asked slowly, approaching her and trying to wipe her tears, but she moved back. Her action pained him because he realized how much of a jerk he had been.

"What do you think? Do I look like I'm okay?" she snapped at him, wiping the tears with the back of her hand, her voice filled with frustration.

"I'm sorry, my love. I've been such an ass-" he said apologetically.

"Yes, you have! You have no idea what I've been going through because of you!" she replied angrily, her tone laced with resentment.

"Bébé, you have no idea how sor-" he tried to explain, but she cut him off.

"Save your fucking apologies, Kylian! I don't fucking care anymore. You've made me feel like the biggest piece of shit these past few months," she spat out, her words filled with bitterness.

"You know how stressed I've been with the transfer and-" he started to defend himself, but she interrupted him.

"AND SO YOU DECIDED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME WHEN I-" she yelled, her tone conveying a mixture of anger and hurt.

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN GOING THROUGH WITH ALL THESE PEOPLE PUSHING THEIR EXPECTATIONS ON ME WHILE YOU SIT AT HOME-" he retorted, his voice tinged with frustration.

"SIT AT HOME? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN DO THE WHOLE DAY EXCEPT KICK A FUCKING BALL AROUND WHILE I TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS, CLEAN THE HOUSE, COOK FOOD, WRITE MY FUCKING THESIS, WHICH YOU NEVER EVEN BOTHER ASKING ABOUT BECAUSE OF COURSE THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD TURNS AROUND MR. HOTSHOT HIMSELF!"

"KICK A BALL AROUND ALL DAY? ME DOING THAT IS THE ONLY REASON WHY YOU SPEND THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS BUYING USELESS SHIT-"

"I USE MY OWN MONEY TO BUY SHIT, YOU DICKHEAD! AND THE ONLY USELESS SHIT I BUY WITH YOUR MONEY IS CLOTHES AND FOOD FOR THE CHILDREN YOU KNOCKED ME UP RIGHT AFTER I GRADUATED! I'VE SACRIFICED SO MUCH FOR YOU-"

"SACRIFICED?! WHAT HAVE YOU SACRIFICED FOR ME, HUH? STOP ACTING LIKE I KNOCKED YOU UP WHEN YOU WERE MORE THAN WILLING TO SPREAD YOUR LEGS FOR ME!"

SLAP.

The sound reverberated through the kitchen, accompanied by a sharp sting on Kylian's cheek. Pain radiated through his face, mingling with the shock that coursed through his veins. His hand instinctively reached up to cradle his burning cheek, his eyes widening in disbelief. The room seemed to spin as he struggled to comprehend what had just transpired.

Y/N's expression mirrored his own disbelief, her eyes wide with horror at the consequences of her actions. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the remorse that consumed her. She trembled, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what she had done. It was a moment of raw vulnerability, where the line between love and anger blurred into a haze of anguish.

"Kylian, I'm so sorry," she choked out, her voice quivering with remorse. Each word dripped with the weight of her regret, desperate to erase the irreversible damage she had caused.

His throat tightened, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling within him. The pain on his cheek competed with the anger that burned in his chest. He fought to find his voice, to process the torrent of thoughts that assailed his mind. The apology hung in the air, suspended between them, as he grappled with conflicting impulses.

Gulping down the lump in his throat, Kylian felt the anger surge within him, fueled by his own frustrations and insecurities. The relentless stress, anxiety, and guilt that had plagued him clawed their way to the surface, intertwining with the raw ache on his cheek. It was a toxic concoction that threatened to consume him, driving him to respond with his own fury.

But beneath the anger, a part of him acknowledged his own culpability. He was not blameless in this dance of discord. The weight of his actions pressed upon his conscience, intertwining with the pain on his cheek. The realization of his own flaws clashed with the indignation that simmered in his veins.

In that moment, Kylian made a choice. A choice to channel the anger, the hurt, and the guilt into something different. Instead of lashing out, he took a deep breath, summoning the last remnants of self-control. The anger flickered in his eyes, but he suppressed it, focusing on the vulnerability before him.

He approached Y/N slowly, his steps cautious and deliberate. His hand reached out, hesitantly, aiming to wipe away her tears, but she flinched, pulling back as if his touch were a reminder of her own transgressions. The ache in his heart matched the pain on his cheek, the longing to bridge the chasm that had formed between them.

Words hung unspoken, heavy with unexpressed emotions. They both knew that apologies alone were not enough to heal the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. The room remained steeped in anguished silence, punctuated only by the echoes of their shattered love.

As the weight of the moment settled upon them, Kylian and Y/N stood at a crossroads. A crossroads where anger and remorse converged, where past mistakes collided with uncertain futures. The path forward was shrouded in shadows, their once-solid foundation crumbling beneath the weight of their anguished hearts.

Time seemed to stand still in the wake of their confrontation, the air heavy with unspoken words and shattered expectations. The kitchen, once a sanctuary of shared laughter and intimate conversations, now felt like a battlefield, scarred by the aftermath of their verbal warfare.

Kylian's gaze never wavered from Y/N, his eyes tracing the contours of her tear-streaked face. He longed to bridge the distance between them, to mend the rift that had widened with each bitter exchange. The ache in his heart intensified, a poignant reminder of the love that had once bound them together.

Y/N's body trembled with a mix of regret, fear, and a longing for reconciliation. The weight of her actions bore down on her, leaving her feeling small and vulnerable. She yearned for solace, for the reassurance that their love could withstand the tempestuous storm that raged within them.

With measured steps, Kylian closed the physical gap between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and determination. He reached out once again, his hand hovering in the space between them, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, caught in the crosscurrents of conflicting emotions. Her gaze met Kylian's, searching for a glimmer of the man she had fallen in love with—the man who had once cherished her and their family above all else. Slowly, tentatively, she extended her trembling hand, allowing their fingers to intertwine, a fragile connection in the face of their shattered trust.

In that delicate touch, an unspoken promise lingered. It whispered of their shared history, the moments of tenderness and joy that had been eclipsed by their recent turbulence. It spoke of a willingness to rebuild, to confront their flaws and the demons that haunted them.

The silence, once heavy with resentment, now became a sacred space for introspection and reflection. The unspoken words hung in the air, their weight acknowledged by both parties. It was a moment of surrender, a recognition that love could not thrive in the absence of vulnerability and forgiveness.

However, despite their fragile moment of reconciliation, the scars of their previous altercation still festered beneath the surface. The guilt and anger that plagued them now resided like smoldering embers, waiting for the slightest breeze to ignite their fury once more.

The following morning, the house was shrouded in an uneasy silence. Kylian moved cautiously, as if walking on eggshells, acutely aware of the tension that lingered in the air. Y/N, her face etched with traces of weariness and apprehension, busied herself in the kitchen, desperately trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass pierced the fragile peace. Kylian's hand trembled as he gazed at the broken fragments scattered across the floor, his breath catching in his throat. The weight of his mistake crashed down upon him, triggering a surge of self-loathing.

Before Kylian could even react, Y/N's voice lashed out, sharp and cutting. "Kylian, how many times have I told you to be careful? You never pay attention to anything!" Her words dripped with frustration, a reflection of her own mounting resentment.

His heart sank, a mixture of shame and frustration swirling within him. The bitterness that had consumed him since their previous argument threatened to overflow. He could no longer bear the weight of his guilt and his bruised pride.

The room seemed to close in on them as Kylian's retort hung heavily in the air, each word a dagger aimed at Y/N's wounded heart. "Oh, what now? Are you going to slap me again, Y/N?"

The accusation cut through the air, leaving a palpable silence in its wake. Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief and hurt, her body trembling with a mixture of shock and anger. The triplets, sensing the rising tension, began to cry, their innocent wails intermingling with the growing storm of emotions.

Y/N's voice quivered as she fought back tears, her voice heavy with a mixture of sorrow and indignation. "How dare you say that, Kylian? I never wanted to hurt you, and you know it!"

The room trembled with their voices, each word a dagger aimed to wound, tearing at the fabric of their fragile bond. Kylian's face contorted with anger, his voice laced with a bitterness he could no longer contain. "Of course you never wanted to hurt me, right? You've done such a fantastic job so far!" Kylian spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Complaining and nagging every fucking day like I don’t already have enough of that every time I open social media"

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, a mixture of pain and disbelief etched on her face. She struggled to find her voice, to make sense of the torrent of emotions crashing over her. "I'm trying, Kylian. I'm trying so hard to hold us together, to be there for you and the kids. But it feels like nothing I do is ever enough!"

He scoffed, the bitterness in his voice turning his words into venom. "You? Trying hard? Don't make me laugh! All you do is complain and criticize. You're so quick to point out my faults, but what about your own? Or do you think you're perfect?"

Y/N's voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt. "I never claimed to be perfect, Kylian. But I've given up so much for you, for our family. I've sacrificed my dreams and aspirations to support you, only to be constantly belittled and dismissed!"

Kylian's eyes blazed with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. "Oh, so now it's all about your sacrifices, is it? What about mine? What about the pressure I face every single day, the weight of expectations on my shoulders?"

Their words collided in the air, their voices filled with resentment and unspoken pain. The triplets' cries grew louder, their innocence caught in the crossfire of their parents' anguish.

Unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, Kylian turned on his heels, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't have time for this. I have a plane to catch, a team to lead. Maybe being away from you for a while will do us both some good."

As he stormed out of the house, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Y/N standing in a sea of shattered hopes and shattered glass. The anguished cries of their children echoed through the empty rooms, a haunting reminder of the fractures in their once-unbreakable bond.

In that moment, as the gravity of their fight settled upon them, both Kylian and Y/N were left with a hollow ache in their hearts, each tormented by their own regrets and the uncertain path that lay before them.

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alwaysonthemend · 2 years ago

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Ménage a Quatre

Author’s Note: Requested by @ignite-my-fire , this fic was an absolute delight to write. It’s way longer than I had initially planned so sorry for the delay. I think this is the fic that’s officially making me go to hell but I’d say it’s fucking worth it because damn was this fun to write. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Sorry for any typos/mistakes! Please note, there is no slash in this fic, as this is not Alabama. (I can make that joke because I was born there)

Summary: You’ve known the Kiszkas for practically their entire lives. Your friendship with them is a little unique given that you’ve slept with all three of them over the years, but you never made it official with any of them. You figure it’s just a matter of time before they find out the truth and you know that once they do, you’ll probably never hear from any of them ever again. They're just about to finish up the last leg of tour and you discover that it’s actually quite the opposite.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, forgive me father for I have sinned. Foursome. Cussing, dirty talk, name calling, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, hand jobs, unprotected sex. Overall just very dirty. Needless to say, 18+ MINORS DNI (plz)

Word Count: 5056

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These situations were rarely ever simple. And yours is extra complicated given that you’d been friends with the Kiszka brothers for most of their lives. You’d met them all the way back in middle school when you’d shared a class with Sam. He had invited you over to his house to hang out and, as the years passed, you became good friends with Jake and Josh as well. You had been with them for all of it – from their first few band practices in the garage to Greta Van Fleet becoming famous. And somehow, they still considered you family, despite their newfound rockstar status.

It started, you suppose, with Sammy. Since you two are the same age, he’d always been the one that you considered yourself closest to. And sure, you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive, especially as he grew into the man he is now. And he’d always been the one that you figured you might have a shot with. He’d been your first kiss in the 8th grade, and he’d been the one to take your virginity after a drunken homecoming party your senior year. And though it had been incredible, and the two of you slept with each other a few more times that summer, you had never made it official.

Things changed though when you were a sophomore in college and Josh had come alone to visit you. The thing about Josh is that he always comes across as a little flirty, and you had never paid it any mind. But during that particular visit, the banter back and forth between the two of you had been at an all time high. Little touches of his would linger, and you would often catch him staring at you as you passed. Inevitably, you fell into bed with him – just as you had with Sam years before. It was incredible. Josh is a giving lover (just as you always assumed he’d be) and your time together that night haunted your dreams for months after he left. You’d always had a little crush on Sam, but suddenly you found yourself looking at Josh in a brand new light. You felt terribly guilty and chalked it up to the Kiszka charm and did your best to push the both of them from your mind.

And then came your graduation party. Josh, Jake, and Sam – along with all of your other friends and family were present. The night was full of excitement and catching up and plenty of alcohol to go around. You would blame that alcohol for a long time for what happened. Sleeping with the third Kiszka brother was, you insisted to yourself, merely a result of drinking way too much. Jake was nothing like Josh or Sam. He was dominant, commanding. And you loved every minute of it. His fingers were fucking magical, calloused and talented, and he had brought you to the edge so many times you had lost count. And as you laid there that night, head resting on his shoulder as he slept, you realized that you were completely, irrevocably, and utterly fucked.

Sleeping with your childhood best friend was one thing, but fucking both of his older brothers was a whole other problem. The guilt ate away at you, consuming your thoughts and souring any moment you shared with them. And the worst part of it was, you couldn’t really make yourself regret any of it. All three of them had given you nights that you would never forget, and any other man you tried to sleep with paled in comparison. You couldn’t even pleasure yourself without your mind drifting to those nights – imagining the way Sam thrust into powerfully, or the way Josh ate you out like a man starved, or the way Jake had stared into your eyes has he edged you for what felt like the millionth time. You’d had a taste of the talented Kiszka brothers, and you were hungry for me – no matter how wrong it was.

The years passed and, despite your best efforts, you slept with them all a handle of times each. And each and every time the guilt chipped away at you, eating away at your thoughts constantly. You never said a word to any of them about the whole situation, and as the years passed it got harder and harder to think of a way to bring it up to them. Eventually, you just accepted that one day they’d all find out and your friendship with the Kiszkas would be ruined forever and that there was nothing you could really do about it. The best you could do was enjoy each encounter as much as you could and be thankful while it lasted.

But things would soon change for all four of you. The release of the Battle at Garden’s Gate and the beginning of the Dreams in Gold Tour changed your world completely. The first leg had been brutal as you hardly got to see the boys at all. On one of the few instances in which they were all at home, taking a break, Sam had approached you with an offer you couldn’t refuse.

“Y/n,” He’d said one day whilst the two of you were sitting at the table eating a light lunch, “how would you feel about coming with us for this last leg of the tour?”

Your eyes had grown comically large and you stared at him.

“I mean, ya! I’d love to but… why?” You wrung your hands together, nervous. “I mean, I FaceTime you guys all the time. It’s not like we never get to talk when you’re on tour.”

“I know.” Sam had said, eyes staring at you intently. “But the truth is… I miss the way we used to be.” He glanced down, suddenly bashful. “I miss the nights we used to have together and I thought that maybe, if you were on tour with us, we could do it again.”

The panic that washed over you had been unlike anything you’d ever felt before. The back of your neck grew hot as the guilt that you thought you had escaped reared its ugly head ten fold. The fear must have shown on your face because Sam was quick to backtrack.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! I… I just thought I’d ask.”

“It’s not that, Sammy. I want to. Of course I want to. It’s just…” You trailed off, desperately trying to come up with a reason other than the terrible truth. You couldn’t think of anything.

“Sam, there’s no way for me to tell you this without sounding like the worst fucking person on the planet, and I hope we can still be at least sort of friends after I tell you… but I understand if you decide against ever talking to me ever again because-”

“Y/n.” Sam silenced your rambling. “I know. We all know.”

You stared, unbelieving.

“Know what?” It couldn’t be true.

“Do you really think three brothers aren’t going to brag to each other about sleeping with the hottest fucking girl we know?” He laughed and took a sip of his drink. “Granted, we didn’t immediately know we all were talking about the same one but… once we did, none of us really cared.”

Your jaw fell open as you stared at him. Your brain was barely processing the words he was saying. They had known? All these years? And not one of them had thought to mention it to you…

“And… you’re all, you know… okay with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“Duh. I’m not the only one who wants you on tour with us. Josh and Jake both wholeheartedly want you there with us, too.” He watched your face morph from emotion to emotion – from panic, fear, confusion, and finally doubt. “I promise y/n. We’re all cool with it. I wouldn’t have asked you to come along with us if we all hadn’t talked about it first. So,” He spread his arms wide and grinned at you, “What'll it be, y/n?”

And that’s how you found yourself traveling the world with Greta Van Fleet, spending your nights partying with them and sleeping with them whenever they pleased. It was weird at first, having sex with each of them whilst knowing that they all knew, but eventually the oddness faded. Sam, Jake, and Josh were the handsomest fuckers to ever walk the planet, and you were lucky enough to be able to have all three of them. And to be honest, you were having the time of your fucking life.

As time passed, the whole situation began to feel a little less strange. Granted, your situation was anything but normal – but you found yourself and the Kiszkas enjoying life far more than you had been before. There was never any weirdness or animosity between you all – much to your relief. Even if one of them walked in on you with another, there were never any hard feelings. Usually just a smirk and an apology, often accompanied by a laugh as they exited the room. The life became normal – despite being so atypical, and time flew by. Before you all knew it, the tour was drawing to a close.

It was the night of the last show. The boys had absolutely killed it out on stage (just like they always did) but there had been something particularly special about their performance this time. Sam had looked downright ethereal out on stage, effortlessly playing the best he had all tour. Josh’s vocals had been heavenly, and the raw emotion that he was feeling at the end of the tour had been evident – making his singing even more powerful than usual. And Jake’s last Weight of Dreams solo had been mesmerizing, his mannerisms becoming practically feral by the end as he basically fucked his guitar on stage. By the end, you excused yourself to your hotel room, completely wound up after the show. You needed some relief, and you didn’t care which of them it was. At this point, you just needed whoever showed up at your door first. They all had their own spare key, so you were sure it was a race of who could get here first.

It was Jake that made it first. You heard the door unlock and he strode across the room quickly, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a hot kiss to your neck. He was still sweaty and warm against you, and you could easily feel his cock through his stage pants. You turned in his grasp to face him, pressing your lips to his in a needy kiss.

“You looked incredible out there tonight, Jakey.” You said between kisses. He chuckled as he detached himself from you to close the door behind himself.

“Thank you, y/n. Got myself a little worked up.” He turned back around and gave you a pointed grin.

“Oh?” You asked, walking slowly over to the bed. “Something I can help with?”

Jake let out a growl deep in his chest as he wasted no time in stripping his stage clothes, tossing them to the floor in a heap. He walked confidently over to you, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your head back to expose your throat.

“You know exactly what I need, sweet girl.” He released you. “Strip.” He ordered, and you quickly complied, almost falling over in your haste to rid yourself of your own clothes.

Once free of your clothes, you crawled onto the bed and leaned back, hair splayed out like a halo around your head. You let your legs fall apart, giving Jake a clear view of your glistening folds.

“Well then,” You said, eyes hooded and heart racing, “come and take it.”

Jake wasted no time before jumping onto the bed, the springs creaking as his weight settled. He dove between your thighs, licking a stripe up your pussy. You threw your head back and moaned loudly, uncaring if anyone heard you. Jake began to eat you out like he was a starving man given his first meal, and he quickly had you spewing curses and moans loudly. So loud, in fact, that neither of you heard the door to the room open and close.

“God damn, she is a fucking sight to behold.” Your eyes snapped open at the sound of Josh’s voice. Jake detached himself from your dripping cunt, turning to give his twin a smirk.

“Don’t stop on my account, brother.” Josh said grinning, eyes still trained on your pussy. “Do you mind if I join in on the fun? It is the last show and all…”

They both were looking at you now, and neither of their gazes were demanding. Truly, it was your choice, and you knew that you could say ‘no’ without either of them becoming upset. You thought for a moment, weighing the idea in your mind. Though you’d been sharing them the whole time, none of you had ever crossed the line of sharing at the same time. But you’d be a big fat liar if you said you hadn’t imagined it before – secret, dirty dreams in which you got to have all three of them at once. And well, two out of three ain’t bad.

“I’d love for you to join.” You said, voice still a little shaky from Jake’s earlier attention.

“You sure?” Jake asked, placing a warm palm on your thigh. “It’s okay if you say no.”

“No hard feelings at all, love. Promise.” Josh added, giving you a sweet smile.

“I’m sure. Promise.” You echo Josh’s words and both of their smiles grow.

“Perfect.” Josh said, already beginning to step out of his jumpsuit. He lets it pool around his feet before stepping out of it and you can’t help but moan at the sight of him. Jake brings his mouth back down on your throbbing cunt, and you clench your eyes shut and groan loudly. You feel the bed dip next to you as Josh climbs in, leaning down to press wet kisses to your tits.

“Sammy’s gonna be so jealous that he’s missing out.” You sigh, fighting to keep your voice from cracking.

“Mmm. Probably.” Josh agrees, before swirling his tongue around one of your hard nipples. You moan loudly as Jake suckles on your clit for a moment before sitting up. His face is wet with your juices and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Do you want me to text him?” Jake asks quietly, and Josh sits up as well. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.” Jake hastily adds. “Two is one thing. All three might be the death of you.” He grins and Josh scoffs at him.

“There were probably a million better ways you could have phrased that.” You laugh at Josh’s comment and Jake gives you both a joking scowl.

“Yeah, probably.” You pause again, gathering your racing thoughts. This whole night is becoming a wet dream come true. “Text him, Jake.”

He nods and rises from the bed to extract his phone from the pile of clothes on the floor by the door. He taps his fingers quickly across the screen.

“He was waiting just down in the lobby bar.” He says, clicking his phone off and lying it back on top of his clothes. “He was gonna wait for his turn.” He chuckles as he returns to the bed.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open again, and Sam enters the room. His hair is framing his pretty face beautifully and you lick your lips at the sight of him.

“Hey, Sammy.” You whisper, eyes dark and chest flushed with excitement. He’s only wearing his stage pants and you can see his cock straining beneath them.

“Hey, y/n.” He says, walking over to the side of the bed.

The three brothers look to each other, eyes dancing back and forth amongst themselves, almost as if they’re carrying a conversation with each other. Knowing them and their close bonds, they probably are.

“Well,” Josh finally says, voice horse and gruff, “a menage a quatre it is, then.” He grins and Sam and Jake do the same, before all of their eyes turn to you. You gulp. You feel like prey, being stalked through the woods by a pack of wild animals. And in a sense, you are. This whole experience with them has been eye opening, as you’ve learned more about yourself and what you like than ever before. Sam, Josh, and Jake have given you a freedom that you’ve never had before, and one that you probably won’t have again.

‘Tonight, pretty girl,” Sammy whispers, “you’re ours.” He says, tracing a finger along the curve of your jaw.

“All ours, my dear.” Josh murmurs as he leans down, ghosting his lips over your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Jake roughly grips the meat of one of your ass cheeks and squeezes, calloused fingers digging into your flesh.

“And you’re gonna fucking take it however we want it.” He says, eyes dark and sparkling.

You swallow thickly and nod your head wordlessly, senses already overwhelmed and every nerve in your body on fire. Sam slides his pants down and off him, allowing his hard cock to spring free. He climbs onto the bed and settles onto his knees by your feet. You turn your head to watch him, entranced by the grace of his movements. In your peripheral you see Josh’s curly head descend upon your skin, leaving wet, hot kisses on your neck. He nips and bites as he goes, drawing breathy little moans from you.

“So pretty like this, baby girl.” He says as he licks into your mouth, tongue plunging into you to explore. He swallows your moan as Sam takes over from Jake earlier, lapping between your folds and circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck.” You whine, tossing your head back as Josh brings his mouth back to your tits while one hand tweaks your other nipple. He wraps his free hand around his cock and begins to fuck into his own hand.

“Such pretty noises.” He moans around your breast.

“Such pretty lips, too.” Jake says, sinking to his knees above your head, looking down on you as his hair falls around his face. “Bet they’d look so nice wrapped around my cock.”

“She’s a little slut for sucking cock, Jake.” Sam says, rising briefly from your cunt and your pussy clenches at the loss of stimulation.

Jake grips your jaw with his hand and forces it open before sliding his hard length into your waiting mouth. You relax your tongue and swallow him down deep as you can go and hollow your cheeks. He fucks into your mouth and you can only watch as his eyes fall closed and he throws his head back in pleasure.

Without warning, Sam plunges two fingers into you, stroking your walls with a ‘come here’ motion. You moan and almost choke around Jake’s cock, but you push through it and your eyes water with the effort. Your every sense is overwhelmed as Josh nips and bites at your tits. Jake’s moans and grunts as he fucks into your mouth are fucking pornographic and Sam’s fingers are quickly guiding you onto the edge.

You reach your right hand out blindly, finding Josh’s hand where he’s stroking himself. You swat it away, relying only on your peripheral to see. You begin to pump his cock for him instead and he lets out a loud groan.

“See that, Jake?” He says through clenched teeth. “Letting you fuck into her mouth and jacking me off at the same time… Such a talented little whore.”

You moan at his words and the vibration makes Jake moan as well. He pulls his cock from you and a string of saliva falls from your lips.

“Mmm.” He nods, brushing your sweaty hair from your forehead. “Such a good girl.” Jake observes you with dark eyes as you practically writhe on the bed. He can tell that you’re about to cum all over Sam’s fingers and yet you’re still giving Josh the handjob of his life.

“Cum for me, y/n.” Sam demands, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “Cum on my fingers.” And that’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap. Your hand drops from Josh’s dick as your mouth drops open and you let out a wail as you ride through the pleasure.

“Fucking gorgeous.” Josh whispers, watching you fall apart. When you finally come down, you're met with all the Kiszkas looking at you like you’re the only girl in the whole world. And to them, you are. You’re struck again by the craziness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, surrounded by the three most attractive men you’ve ever met, all willing to share in your pleasure.

“Get on your hands and knees.” Sam commands, snapping you back into the moment.

You scramble up from your lying down position and do as you're told, sinking to your hands and knees in the middle of the bed. It creaks loudly as you let your weight settle, making sure to stick your ass up in the air to give them a show.

“Always so fucking eager to please…” Jake mutters approvingly, giving your ass an appreciative squeeze before sliding underneath you on his back. In this position, his hard cock rests at attention between your breasts and his mouth is right beneath your dripping pussy. You rest your forearms on either side of his hips and lick his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down so that you're sitting on his face. He plunges his tongue into you, moving in and out slowly.

Josh rises from his place by your side and scoots over so that he’s directly behind you. Sitting up on his knees, he fucks into his own hand lazily as he admires the sight of your ass up in the air.

“You ready for my cock, baby?” He asks and you nod.

He slides into you in one long thrust, moaning loudly as he bottoms out.

“Shit!” You cry, the feeling of his cock stretching you coupled with Jake’s tongue is fucking overwhelming.

“Jesus, look at you.” Sam says, coming to rest at Jake’s feet.

“Lemme suck you off, Sammy.” You moan, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“You guys hear that?” Sam says, chuckling darkly. “She wants to suck my cock.”

“Fuck, y/n,” Josh says, thrusting in and out of you. “You’re a fucking sight to behold. Jesus.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Sam sits up and you open your mouth and wrap your lips around him. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head as much as you can. The pleasure washing over you is so intense you can hardly focus and drool is falling from the corners of your lips, but you keep going.

Jake suckles on your clit and you yelp around Sam’s cock, and Josh squeezes your ass cheeks as he pistons his hips in and out of you. Beneath you, Jake begins sliding his cock between your breasts, – never once letting up with his tongue, but still in desperate need for his own release. The sounds you’re making are making him feel fucking feral.

Sam moans as you suck him off, and he tangles his fingers in your hair as he begins to fuck into your mouth in earnest. His cock hits the back of your throat and he groans loudly. You’re wound so tight you can hardly fucking stand it and your second orgasm is quickly overtaking you. You pull off Sam’s cock for a moment, wailing loudly.

“I’m gonna fucking cum. Oh fuck.” The moan that falls from your mouth as you cum for the second time is high pitched and needy, and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so drunk on pleasure. Your mouth falls open in a perfect ‘o,’ and Sam takes the opportunity to thrust his cock back between your lips again. Your pussy clenches around Josh’s cock, pulling a loud moan from him and Jake laps at your release. You can feel his dick twitch between your breasts and he moans as he tastes you.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re so fucking tight.” Josh says through clenched teeth, and his chest is flushed as he continues to fuck into you. Jake plunges his tongue back between your folds, mercilessly swirling your clit and you whine loudly, dancing on the edge between pain and pleasure. You’re so overstimulated and tears leak from your eyes, but none of them let up. You moan around Sam’s cock and he groans loudly.

“You’re such a good whore for us, y/n. So fucking good.” You whine deep in your throat and clench your eyes shut. Between Josh’s cock and Jake’s tongue – not to mention the sounds that Sam is making, you feel like you could fucking explode.

“So good.” Josh pants. “And all ours.”

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” Sam throws his head back and that’s all the warning you get before his release spills down your throat. You greedily swallow it all down and milk him for all he’s got. He pulls his cock from you with a pop and falls back against the headboard.

The sound of his release sends you spiraling into a third orgasm, this one quick and sharp and without warning. You wail loudly as it crashes over you, and you clench hard around Josh.

“Jesus, mama. Shit! So fucking tight. Gonna fucking cum. So fucking close.” His thrusts are sloppy and erratic, and it isn’t long before he reaches his own release, painting your walls with thick ropes of cum. The sound that falls from his lips is sinful, and your eyes roll back as Jake continues to eat you out. Jake is desperately rutting his dick up between your tits and you can tell he’s on the edge, but he’s not going to let himself fall off that crest without making you cum one more time. You need it so badly and your whole body feels like it’s on fucking fire.

“Come on, y/n.” Sam encourages, voice silky smooth. “One more.”

“You can do it, pretty girl. Come on. Let us see you fall apart one more time.” Josh says between shaky breaths, pulling his soft cock from your pussy.

You’re spewing profanities and whines and you're wailing their names as the coil in your belly somehow begins to tighten again. You have no idea what you’re saying and your vision is beginning to go black around the edges. With one last swirl of his tongue around your clit, Jake has you falling apart for the fourth time. Your eyes roll back in your head and you scream as you cum. You’re a babbling mess and the sight and sound of you makes Jake finally come apart himself. Ropes upon ropes of his cum paint your chest as he ruts his cock against your smooth skin and he moans your name loudly.

“Fuck, y/n!” He cries as he finally comes down from his high. He slides out from under you and you collapse onto the bed, completely and utterly spent.

Josh rises from the bed and hooks one arm beneath your knees and the other around your waist. He lifts you gently and Sam pulls the covers down to the foot of the bed. Josh lays you gingerly onto your back and wipes your hair from your face. You crack your eyes open at him.

“Hey, mama.” He says with a sweet smile. “You okay?”

You just hum and close your eyes again. Jake rises to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. He runs it under the warm water of the sink and brings it back over to the bed while Sam goes to grab you a glass of water. Jake cleans you up carefully, wiping the evidence of the night's activities from your skin. Josh helps you sit up and Sammy brings the glass to your lips and you take large, greedy gulps of it. When you’re finished, he places it on the nightstand.

“You did so good for us, baby.” Jake says, voice almost a whisper.

“So fucking good.” Josh murmurs as well, reaching down to grab his jumpsuit off the floor. He steps back into it and pulls it up, not bothering to zip it all the way. Jake does the same, pulling his pants on and grabbing his jacket and phone.

“Get some rest.” He says.

“Think I’m gonna sleep for a week.” You say tiredly, and the three of them laugh. “You were right, Jakey. All three of you was definitely the death of me.”

“A valiant and noble death, m’lady.” Josh says with a dramatic bow. You giggle at his perpetual goofiness.

“You guys have a good night.” Sam says, crawling into the bed and pulling the covers over you both. “I’ll take good care of her.”

“You better.” Jake says and points a finger at him. “She needs some good rest.”

“You kids be good.” Josh says, following Jake to the door to the hotel room. “I’ll have breakfast delivered to her in the morning.”

“What about me?” Sam said and you laughed at the indignation in his voice.

“You’re a big kid, Sammy boy.” Josh laughs and Jake rolls his eyes at the both of them. “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

The twins both give you soft, matching smiles before turning to open the door.

“Thank you.” You tell them.

Jake gives you a cheeky grin and a salute.

“Any time.” And with that, he disappears out the door.

“The pleasure was all mine, good lady.” Josh bowed once more and followed Jake, softly closing the door behind him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sam says, extending his arm to turn off the light before settling back down.

“You kidding me?” You ask, lying your head down and practically sinking into the bed. “That was a wet dream come true.”

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