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mvniro · 20 days

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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 DRIP IT DOWN, ETERNAL BLISS ; a fyodor dostoyevsky fic. ❞

أنت قاسي، قلبي لا يزال ينبض لك. بنفس الطريقة التي تكون بها الشمس قاتلة، إلا أن الأرض لا تزال تدور حولها. في ساحة المعركة، دعهم يعرفون أنني كنت الأشجع. لكن أمام دموعك عندما أرادت رباطة جأشي أن تهرب. أوه هل كنت أحمق؟ كل العشاق هم. هل ما زلت أحمق؟ لا، أنا مجرد عاشق دون حبه، عاشق تجرد من كبريائه. رجل حرم من سعادته كأنها حمامة بلا جناحيها.

you are cruel, my heart still beats for you.

the same way the sun is deadly, yet the earth still revolves around it.

In a battlefield, let them know I was the bravest.

Yet infront of your tears is when my composure wanted to flee away.

Oh was I a fool?

All lovers are.

Am I still a fool?

No, i'm just a lover without his love,

A lover stripped of his pride.

A man depraved of his happiness,

Like without its wings, is a dove.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . it's my birthday week so a present from me ♡.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . fem!reader, vampire!fyodor, immortal!fyodor, husband!fyodor, wife!reader, established relationship, nsfw, blood play, religious themes used, God referred to as Him, biting, set in old russia, abuse is normalized, 'sweet child' has been used once as a nickname to put emphasis on fyodor being immortal, reader has been given traits like 'pure' and 'innocence' for the reason of again, putting an emphasis on fyodor, his immorality and him being a vampire.

the clouds roared and the thunders proudly announced the arrival of an upcoming storm, letting everyone below the vast sky of this specific region of russia whose name you never had the privilege of knowing despite growing up here as a infant, know of the dangers the grey and almost black sky is going to bring in a matter of time.

in a matter of a few hours or even less, most of the land below will be covered, almost drowned with the water as peasants would begin to curse while they picked their trash and transferred it upstairs or try to find shelter with all their possessions on top of their heads.

yet you did not have time left to ponder over what the peasant man will do to fight this unexpected disaster as the sound of footsteps reverberated through the otherwise silent hall of the mansion and you turned almost at once to see the man who owned this mansion walk in, his expression as cold and confident as it was the first time you saw him yet what paired with his pale skin and maroon, crisp shirt was a cut running through the length of his neck and disappeared behind but you guessed it must've ended near his shoulder blade.

the man raised his eyes and you dare not refer to him with his name unless you stand on a stage where your intellect and personality can clash against his -- these were the words that were punctured into your mind by the most gentle of mothers but also the most cruel of women who had fallen from their high class, married to a peasant for the sake of a promise made by fathers who they never saw.

"you are hurt." you quietly observed as you stared up at his delicately cruel and cold face, holding your chin high to not let your nervousness be disclosed.

but he had seen it, he sees it all.

he had tilted his head and raised his hand to probably run it through the gushing wound, had you not taken quick strides to grab his wrist and stop him from doing so.

"what had gathered your interest so immensely that had you staring out of the window for the past fifteen minutes?" fyodor, the man you are married to and which is considered to be the greatest achievement of your life ; to be chosen by him, grabbed your wrist which was holding his own and pulled you in closer.

your nose bumped against his shoulder and you immediately and unconsciously breathed in his scent for it was always oddly comforting, fyodor smelled of old books and oud yet the distinct crisp smell of the outside greenery also mixed in with his scent.

fyodor looked down to watch your composure crumbling as you grew nervous and tense when he raised his other hand to wrap it around your lower back, pushing you to be more closer to him.

to watch you drop the mask and show your vulnerability whenever he did gestures like this was too pleasurable and amusing for him. coming from a place where love and affection or even peace are concepts which are only available for one to hear and fantasize about, you never got used to being showered by the attention and interest of your husband ; a man notorious and admirable at the same time.

"it looks like it'll rain heavily." you speak quickly and nervously as you raise your head to look at fyodor, a childlike nervousness in your eyes ; the kind which is seen in a child when he arrives at a new place or is pushed to introduce themselves by their parents to adults whose friendly smiles are nothing but scary and ugly curls on their scary faces.

yet with that childlike nervousness, your eyes also held the wisdom and knowledge of a man given mercy after being brought to be beheaded ; this beheaded man who had calculated the time he had left before his head would be cut from his neck and who watched his surroundings and himself for the last time with an incredible understanding. you looked like you wanted to cry yet at the same time didn't want to move away from him, like a child who clings to his mother after being smacked by the mother.

the innocence in you had attracted fyodor who had seen so much that he forgot if he ever was innocent once.

he tilted his head down and your eyes fluttered shut, his lips gently came in contact with your eyelid as he left a kiss there before doing the same with your other eyelid and he leaned back to whisper,

"do you really have no one to go to?"

"you are my husband, you are my everything now. i'll go wherever you go and i'll go wherever you tell me to." why is it that your nervous and anxious voice had more impact then those of philosophers and kings he have heard?

fyodor led you by your waist to the couches where he sat on one of the velvet armchairs and pulled you to sit on his knee, staring up at you with no expression on his face yet his eyes weren't sharp like they always were when he talked to others, no, his eyes were soft.

"i spoke of you to a friend of mine. he too was amazed when i told him what a sweet little wife i have chosen for myself. i told him how i immediately make you sit on my knees whenever i come back and watch you shyly and at other times nervously squirm under my gaze." fyodor began as he played with the hem of your white robe under which the only article of clothing on your body was a white babydoll nightgown but your eyes were glued to the way the cut on his neck from just a few minutes ago disappeared and his skin appeared as if he never had any wound to begin with.

does this explain his beauty too?

one which is considered otherworldly and which exceeds the one of both women and men? for how can he look so delicate yet intelligent at the same time?

"he asked me why. can you believe he would ask something so obvious? has his age been playing a factor in asking such a idiotic question?"

". . .i wonder the same too sir. why?" you raise your eyes to look in his eyes again and fyodor raised one of his eyebrows but didn't look up or stop playing with your robe. he had just changed his action to now playing with the knot of your robe and he only hummed before he spoke,

"i am a man who thinks his wife should not be influenced by traditions or societal influence but by the word of Him and after Him, by me. please refrain from referring to me with titles that are meant for others." fyodor explained gently yet the warning in disguise in tone made you immediately nod and fyodor almost smiled, not quite, you supposed you would have to work harder and please him more to get the privilege of seeing him smile.

"alright then, . . . dostoyevsky. please do answer my previous question." you hesitate before you attempt again to dive into the surface of his mind to try and understand him, to take a step closer to get him to warm up to you in a way you are familiar too -- directly, not subtly like he does.

for greed is felt by humans and humans aren't angels filled with virtues, they sin and sin and then they beg for forgiveness before they sin again ; and everytime they repent, He forgives them and showers them with His mercy.

you raised your finger to gently trace his nose. your fingers felt cold on his skin, ironically, as usually it is him who has skin as cold as the cold walls of a room during a winter night. so why would he feel your touch to be cold?

cold to the touch, soothing to the sensation. a normal and well known gesture, a foreign feeling it bloomed within.

"i like pretty girls like you who are obedient and quiet yet also playful." fyodor muttured as he let you raised your fingers to the corners of his lips, pressing it against his skin and turning it up and down as you tried to make him smile and frown but the thought that itched at the back of your skull remained one you've thought of before as well ; when he would smile for real, would you feel breathless or would would rather feel groundless as the ground beneath you disappears to make you float in air?

"i am not that pretty. many others were prettier. though mother always told me i would be picked to be the bride of a nobleman over the preety ones due to my obedience. and at other instances, she smacked me with her bible till my skin cracked and i truly resembled what she would call the 'devil's nasty joke' on her, to be given a child who is ordinary in beauty unlike her." you tell as you pull on his upper lip to reveal his sharp canines which separates him from the rest and let his identity be known, gazing at the unusual sharpness -- to you, a human --with curiosity as you raise your finger to poke at the tip of his teeth.

a supernatural being, an immortal man, a vampire possessing great beauty and a man who is cursed by knowledge yet blessed by wisdom.

"your mother is preety but she has a loud mouth. i always liked when the women around me had strong opinions and strong will yet with an equally gentle mouth." fyodor interjected calmly as he then lightly sinked his teeth into the plush of your fingerpad, amusement glowed in his eyes when he felt you jerk a bit due to the unexpected teasing.

"and i do?" you ask in somewhat interest and somewhat surprise as your pupils fall on his face once again to see amusement dripping down his own eyes as he didn't answer you, didn't want to give you the relief of having your curiosity answered.

"sweet child, you make me feel divine." is all the ancient vampire breathed out and to save yourself from becoming a shy and nervous mess infront of your husband, you quickly change the topic.

"if you bite me, will it hurt?" your change in topic is abrupt but adorable. you leaned down to look at his sharp teeth better and in your eyes were the wonder and thoughts and assumptions and theories of what it would feel like to be bitten by him, to have your skin pierced by his teeth, to have his breath fanning your skin and to have his arms caressing the supple flesh of your ass, you blinked. then coughed nervously at the thoughts in your hand.

"hm, it will. alot." fyodor opted for a whisper to tease you as he looked at you but he sensed it, felt it and realised it all. the subtle clenching of your legs and the quick blinking once you realised your own thoughts and how they circled concupiscence.

"really? i feel like you are lying." adorable efforts and adorable suspicion as you timidly smile at him and fyodor hummed before he grabbed your hand (which had been poking and inspecting his sharp teeth) while he began to move his knee up and down and watched how your shoulders tensed before relaxing as you tried not to notice the slight pleasure his movements are giving you.

to ignore the way his knee bucked into your crotch everytime he moved his knee and how your panties were pushed towards your folds by his movement, you looked at fyodor to see him raise your wrist towards his lips.

". . .si --" you stop, immediately correcting yourself when fyodor's grip on your wrist tightened, "-- dostoyevsky, what are you doing?"

you did not need to ask, you knew he would be answering your curiosity in a way that it would leave you satisfied and without any more doubts but the time period before he does so is of now and this time period is making your heart beat faster in anticipation and erotic joy due to the movement of his knee.

"quiet. love." he muttered out.

oh he did, he certainly did!

he used the pet name again. and again, he watched. he watched as you whimpered quietly and nodded, falling silent as you can't bring yourself to look at him, shyly staring at his mouth and waiting for him to proceed with his action.

with a strange calmness, you waited and watched. fyodor found it amusing how a mere nickname got you squirming but his action didn't.

parting his lips to sink his sharp teeth into your wrist where your veins were visible, fyodor perked up at the reaction he craved out of you, which came late, a gasp of surprise.

a melody fyodor wanted to engrave into the depths of his mind.

"you lied dostoyevsky, it doesn't hurt at all." you speak after a few seconds of silence as you inspect the way the blood flowing through your veins entered his mouth and flowed down his throat, was it like water to him or did he have separates tubes and enzymes for this blood -- your blood.

"it doesn't?" fyodor whispered out to tease you with a faux surprised tone before continuing, "then what does it feel like, love?"

the nickname sits nicely on his tongue and he likes the way it rolls off his tongue and the effect it has on you.

"have you not heard it before from your previous wives?" you tilt your head, the ecstacy of having his thumb run across your wrist as he tries to soothe the piercing and churning like pain from your wrist is what is making your tongue so loose and sharp. yet when the depth of your words settled on your tongue, your heart sank. what did you just say?

"you are my first wife."

"oh."

"oh indeed." fyodor repeated with a smirk, the only closest thing to a smile you assume you'll see because there is no way fyodor would smile or even talk to you after the way you've disrespected him.

he may not be showing it but a man doesn't like being disrespectful and a respected man knows the clear line separating playful teasing with sugar-coated snarky remarks.

you aren't one though. you are young and naive and you mix up silent amusement for having taken offence. your hands shake in fear of these negative thoughts walking in your mind being true.

a thing to be noticed before going further is the use of 'sharp teeth' or 'sharp canines' instead of 'fangs'. the use of such terms instead of the other and more commonly known one is due to your stubbornness.

fyodor may be a vampire but he is not an animal and so, you try your best to view him as a human but he isn't one and so, unconsciously the words like 'canine' pop out.

old habits do die hard and old traditions are just someone's expectations and way of living being forced onto others.

fyodor knew it, he always did. nothing escapes his eyes afterall. and has anyone wondered what this would make him feel?

such a naively idiotic way of thinking that only humans are capable of as they spend lives in misery or happiness which is actually delusion in disguise.

"p-please forgive me dostoye --"

your words were cut off as the man leaned to place his lips on your's, the metallic taste in his mouth lingered and entered your's albeit faintly and was soon washed away by his saliva. your eyes were open in wide and visible surprise yet once fyodor separated, as if to just remember the feeling of your lips on his for memories have always been his companion.

and memories are the only thing as immortal as him, as ever living as him and as enchanting as him.

"call my name again." fyodor whispered out as he felt the hair on his nape rising as if to welcome the doom of him and of his heart.

falling for a mere mortal, oh, what a tragedy!

indeed, it is Him laughing at fyodor for the predicament He himself placed on him, he is sure of this much.

oh father, why has thou forsaken him?

why be so cruel to let him fall into the garden of love, it's a sin for someone like him. a sin he is committing on himself.

to love is to die for. to die for is to love.

"dostoyevsky?" oh.

heavens and the angels residing in it, is this a curse or a blessing?

fyodor closed his eyes and tilted his head up to exhale deeply as he needed a moment to process and to repeat the frail call of his name in his mind, he felt giddy and he felt disgustingly giddy.

"once more." fyodor demanded in a whisper as he tried to find his way through this garden where flowers bloomed and the sunlight showered on trees and the ground, making them relish this light falling upon them. this place doesn't feel hostile but unfamiliar and fyodor knows the dangers lurking behind that which is unfamiliar.

"dostoyevsky." you had gasped out this time when fyodor's hand, as if it had a will of its own, dipped in between both of your legs to grasp the under of your thigh and fyodor let out a satisfied breath.

"once more." he repeated his previous words. the flowers moved in one particular direction with the wind and fyodor, with skepticism guarding him, followed the path it pointed at.

"dostoyevsky. are you alright?" you leaned forwards to cup his pale yet extremely handsome face between both of your hands as you tilted his head down and after thinking for a few seconds on what to do, you leaned to leave a gentle peck on the tip of his nose as your eyes fluttered shut while doing so, due to shyness.

this doesn't make sense. fyodor thought as he stood at the destination the garden seemed him to want to arrive at yet all he saw a vast ocean which spreaded till infinity and the sun's reflection on the surface of the water was nothing special.

yet when you kissed the tip of his nose, there was a movement in the still water and fyodor felt himself getting irked at the slow realization. the ripples in the water slowed along his heartbeat.

love is like a ocean, deep and mysterious and no matter how much one tries, has there really been anyone who ever understood the sin that love is?

". . . seventy three." fyodor uttered slowly as he opened his eyes and stared at you.

"pardon?"

"this is the seventy third time i smelt the arousal oozing out of you, my love." fyodor mumbled to you in amusement as he watched whatever confidence was left in you, vanishing and crumbling.

you knew it would be of no use to make an excuse or lie, he would see through you anyway.

perhaps fyodor noticed your chain of thoughts as well as fyodor's hand which was grabbing the under of your thigh, lifted it up to have your legs parted and your core to be completely vulnerable to him and he tapped your cunt with his knuckles making your breath hitch.

"hormones, they give away many things about someone. the excited signals in your brain and your heartbeat -- they give away a human and his intentions very quickly." fyodor further explained even if he knew you, or any human, would be able to fully grasp for this is far beyond what the human mind is functioned and trained to think.

"remove." fyodor quietly ordered and you nodded quickly, breathing pattern uneven and not in rhythm is just making it more evident of how spot on he is when he caught you red handed.

caught you? but what is their to catch? it's not a crime to feel aroused by your husband who only touched you no more then thrice during your nearly reaching one year of marriage.

you slowly yet carefully undo the knot of your robe before fyodor raised his hand to push the robe down your arms and onto his lap as he removed it, his hand trailed down the length of your arms as he did so and when you moved to find a more comfortable position to sit on his knee, the prior protection of the robe now stripped away to let his eyes fall upon every curve and every inch of skin uncovered along with the feeling of your core moving against his knee, the primal urge took over fyodor.

even a vampire has instincts and primal urges that he can ignore for a long time but can never be free of it.

the babydoll nightgown did the purpose it had, to tempt the man who parted his lips to let his tongue out and moisten the bottom lip, in a attempt to feel anything other then the arousal burning through his veins.

fyodor abandoned your thigh and raised his hand to place it over your neck and added pressure to it as he glided his hand down to make you feel a small and faint burning sensation as he did so and you did.

but what followed his action, this simple test, is the result he was hoping for.

for the reason behind this action of his was to hear your breath hitching in your throat as if your body suddenly forgot the way it naturally worked. your heart hammered in your chest but you still ignored it to let out the words,

"if my obvious arousal for you is so obvious . . . dostoyevsky. then . . " you trail off to stare at his face and you smile a bit, nervously before it falls down from your face and you are once again left to be anxious at the reaction he will have but you cannot stop now, not when the subtle way his tongue lapped on your wrist when he sucked your blood is still something you can feel like a shadow lurking behind a traveler on a full moon light.

you take a deep breath before shakily raising your hand to place it on his collarbone and after looking at his face for any signs of displeasure and not getting any, you begin to caress his collarbone.

"then why be so cruel as to not relieve you of it? is this it? is this what you wanted to say?" fyodor smirked again as he took in the sight of the surprise dancing at every nook and crook of your facial features.

and with a slow nod, you watch as fyodor leaned near you to peck the tip of your nose and then leaned his head down to lick a strip up your cheek towards your cheekbone as his eyes narrowed.

"beg for it if you are so desperate." fyodor muttured against your cheek, you close your eyes.

"you are my husband. it's your duty to satisfy me." you murmur back but due to your eyes being closed, you missed the chance of seeing his lips curve up into a amused smile just the slightest bit as your words brought up a sense of amusement.

playful. oh how much fyodor likes these moments.

"you ruin my reputation. don't you know i'm not supposed to be this gentle, my love?" fyodor sighed out as he decided to adopt a more serious and sincere mood, letting the playfulness in his evaporate in thin air.

but desire, oh it precipitated when fyodor's hand traveled down to raise your nightgown up and he then used his hand to grab hold of the back of your thigh to part it and have your cunt be more visible to him as your underwear showed a wet patch.

"is it my fault?" you ask with a nervous smile and shaky breath, a smile that doesn't fail to convey your affection and anticipation for the man who nodded. rather then answering his playful accusation, you raise your slightly trembling hands to pull the hair tie that had been keeping your hair in one place. "may i?"

once fyodor nodded to grant you the permission to do as you wish, you leaned a bit forwards as you used both hands to gather his hair and style it in a ponytail as a means to distract yourself from the hammering of your heart due to excitement.

yet fyodor must have sensed your intentions and this is why he immediately grasped both of your thighs in his hold, lifting you up slightly as he shifted his body to lay you down on the couch next to the armchair you two were occupying till now.

fyodor isn't a man of many words so during such an intimate moment, his eyes did the talking and it made blood to crawl up your skin under the intense and hot gaze of his eyes which were narrowed, a glint in them so unnatural and unhuman that it made you aware (that is, if you forgot of his nature for a moment) of the genetic and biological difference between you two.

you nervously held your breath as fyodor sat on his knees above you, still holding both of your thighs apart after which he raised his eyes to look into your eyes and the way his lips parted as he smirked, his fangs glinted due to the light falling on them.

"not gonna beg me?" fyodor asked again yet his usually calm and stable voice had noticeably dropped a few octaves, sounding extremely arousing considering the state you are in and the way his words are being partnered up with his fingers which caressed your calves.

you take a deep breath but it doesn't calm your nerves for whoever talks big about being level-headed and calm must've never been under fyodor dostoyevsky when he is smirking and pridefully showing off his fangs while sweatbeads forms on the sides of his lips and frankly, you hope no one ever gets the privilege after you die.

selfish but that's what makes us human.

"n- i mean yes . . .er no, wait --" you stutter while watching fyodor raise your leg towards his mouth as he placed a soft kiss on your ankle before he began his journey higher up your leg and every kiss which followed from here on became unique due to being accompanied by a quick nibble on your skin, his tongue licking your leg or even bluntly biting your skin.

"time is running, love." fyodor murmured against your leg as his eyes stared up at you and you parted your lips but what were you even going to speak when no words in your favor were forming in your head?

you lay your head on the couch cushion as you let out a breathy whine, a sound fyodor himself greedily repeated in his mind but originality always reigned over mimicry.

with each kiss traveling upwards the length of your leg, fyodor leaned down and down instead of raising your leg higher.

"time isn't one to wait for anyone. not even for a man like me. so tell me, are you going to beg or not?" voice turned sharp, a breath was stolen from your windpipe cruelly when fyodor's lips reached your inner thighs and he clamped his mouth shut, sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh.

you could feel it as his fangs pierced your layers of skin and flesh, drawing out blood and gifting you with a shrill kind of pain but it soon turned into something else you can't comprehend when fyodor began to suck on the abused area, it didn't pain yet neither did it feel good -- it felt something in between.

your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you tried to comprehend this sensation which is very new to you. fyodor raised his eyes again to watch you and once he found you behaving the way he wanted ; distracted, his lithe fingers slipped past your panty and entered your hole without any warning which made you jerk up as you let out a squeal of surprise while at the same time, your hole sucked his lithe middle finger in and made him let out a hum of approval.

"dostoyevsky --" you were not able to speak as the moment you called his name, fyodor pulled his finger out and thrusted into your wet entrance again and suddenly the sucking on your thigh is making sense, now that his finger is slowly moving in and out of you, you feel his mouth on your thigh is only adding to the anticipation and arousal building in you.

"that's my name, yes." fyodor smirked cruelly as he stopped the movement of his finger as it settled knuckle deep into your hole and he lifted his head to stare at the two small circles on your thigh and the nearly red skin around it.

fyodor stopped holding your other leg and used his free hand to pluck a few strands of free hair that the ponytail wasn't able to cage, behind his ear as he stared down at your panting form with a calculative gaze.

"i do not entertain brats. you want something? you be a good girl and nicely request for it --"

"please dostoy?"

fyodor let out a sharp breath as he raised his eyebrow, a silent order for you to repeat yourself and you do, leaning up on your elbows as the strap of your babydoll nightgown dropped down your shoulder, you timidly repeat yourself,

"please dostoyevsky. please?" you do not go in detail of what you want due to shyness and shame. fyodor doesn't mind as the moment the three words left your lips, a low growl of your name emitted from his throat as he immediately leaned forwards and tore the straps apart, the fabric of the nightgown teared into two by his hands as they pulled the fabric apart to reveal your naked breasts to him.

fyodor lowered himself on you, between both of your legs and your wet core as he lowered his mouth on one of your nipples and touched it with the tip of his fang, making you shudder.

at the same time, fyodor's lithe fingers swiped up some of the oozing blood from your thigh and brought it towards your lips, shoving his finger inside your warm mouth when you parted your lips and the small hum of disapproval at the ironic taste of blood had fyodor grazing your nipple with his sharp fang, providing a ticklish yet arousing sensation.

the short moment of tease died when fyodor moved himself up and pressed his crotch down on your core, making you shudder as your back arched. taking this chance, fyodor's hand traveled to your back and he immediately and harshly pushed down your panties, letting them pool by your feet as he did not bother to take them off fully due to being impatient which is out of character for him but when have someone actually stayed fully composed when the nimble hands of lust slowly dragged themselves down the abdomen of the person they are affecting.

due to the confinement of his pants, fyodor's dick pressed against your core when he pressed down, a painful kind of pleasure traveled to his body and he found himself doing it again and again, letting out short hisses at the painfully addicting and mind numbing sensation.

"dostoyevsky please. i need you so bad -- want you so badl -- m-mhmm." you closed your eyes when fyodor lowered his mouth and bit down on your skin below your breast, hard enough to draw blood but the pain was evened out by him dry humping against you.

"you make a man loose his mind." fyodor gritted his teeth before he whispered something in a language foreign to you, perhaps an ancient language and by the familiarity of the word, he was cursing for you remember the same word being used in multiple occasions with a frustrated tone, why would he curse?

for he wanted to do to many things, feel too many sensations and give you too much pleasure but alas, he two, has only two hands yet his brain, oh, his brain is a wonderful organ and works better then most of those who walked on this earth and perished on it.

"so much, so so much." fyodor muttered again in a language you understood and spoke since the beginning of your existence after you gained enough conscience to use verbal communication. he messily and clumsily undid his belt, removing his pants and practically kicking them off his feet, he let out short pants and his eyebrows were furrowed ; a sight enough to make you cum and fyodor noticed your hole sucking in air and so, he immediately pinched your labia in such a manner that between both of your lips was your clit as a prisoner of pleasure.

"you make me loose my mind so much. make me loose my morals and forget my manners." fyodor continued as he released his hold on your folds for a second to let the pleasure vanish before he pinched them again and as your folds squished around your clit, you let out a small sigh akin to a quiet moan.

"do you know how many times i've thought about bending you in a public place and taking you?" fyodor groaned at the remembrance of his perverted fantasies, he leaned down to bite on your skin again and this time, it drew out blood but the pain wasn't noticeable, not when fyodor pushed the tip of his cock against the spot on your thigh which he had bitten to smear the last wet drops of blood on your skin and on his tip, he groaned again at the messily erotic sight.

"there is only one solution for this." fyodor muttured as he leaned his head up to lick at your breast, his tongue stopping only when it hovered above your nipple as he wanted to let the bite he left on you to be undisturbed until it had enough blood flowing out of it.

without looking away from your eyes and without moving his face away as he pressed his tongue down on your nipple which hardened up, fyodor used both of his hands to spread your legs and try to clumsily push his cock inside your slit. his body weight falling on you, his tongue pressing down on your nipple yet not quite making any friction and his eyes which didn't tear away from your's even once ; all served to add to the pleasure he gave you as his dick bumped against your folds many times before he finally entered your slit while using his index and middle finger to spread your folds apart.

his tongue began to show movements as he licked a strip along your nipple before encircling around it and then it came, the moan you bit back and instead the choked breath you let out when his lips clamped down on your nipple and he began to suck on it, alternatively doing this and pulling your nipple with his teeth.

for every action in nature, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

fyodor pulled his dick out and he could feel the anger of your cunt at the sudden emptiness at it squeezed around thin air, arousal dipped out of you as it weeped for him to enter again, your hips spasmed as if heartbroken by the sudden lose of him . . . your entire body wanted him, didn't it?

this made fyodor shudder in satisfaction, his cocky nature taking the best of him as he smirked.

fyodor's lithe fingers traced down your fold and down the length of your inner thigh as he rubbed his finger on the spot which was faintly smeared in your blood, this made his dick ooze out precum and he thrusted inside you again.

you barely opened your eyes to lift your head up, spotting his free hand which was on top of your thigh and grabbing it to raise it towards your other breast which had been neglected for a long time. with your hand on top of his, you placed his hand on your breast and squeezed it, letting out a loud and breathy moan as your eyes closed once again.

"so eager." fyodor couldn't help but notice, thrusting into you slowly, in an antagonizing slow pace but to make up for it, his hand harshly squeezed your breast as if to tear your mind into two, to make you confused on which sensation to focus on.

fyodor's tongue flicked your nipple one last time before he lowered his head to place it on the spot he had bitten, now that it had a fairly safe yet good amount of blood pulling and he pressed his lips against the fluid. he lifted his head up towards your face and kissed the side, almost the end of your lips and dragged his lips down as he left small pecks along the way and the blood left its trail on your skin.

fyodor's dick picked its pace all of a sudden as he did not want the pleasure to disappear for even a second, he was sure to steal your breath away and leave you addicted to his touch, he will make sure of it.

his dick despite being clamped down by your walls, remained indifferent as he thrusted in and out, his ears drank the moans and whines your lips were letting free and his hand came down to grip your hip tightly, tight enough to leave a bruise.

fyodor went down to press his lips against your bloodied skin again, kissing the underside of your boob in the process before he raised his face to leave an open mouth kiss on your shoulder.

fyodor's dick entered with a particular thrust and touched your g-spot but he didn't pull back and rather, lifted you up by pushing on your hip till the tip of his dick touched your cervix.

it was a repeating process for fyodor to dip his head down and gather blood on his lips and then smear it down your skin as he kissed your body. your back arched when you felt his hand leave your hip to grab your thigh and spread your leg more, your leg dangled off the couch as he thrusted in again with the same pace he started out with ; slow yet deep.

yet his movements on your breast remained hard, harsh and fast and he, once after finding his action repetitive, switched to pinching your nipple and pulling and twisting it between the pads of his index and thumb, returning to his original action once he found this new one to grow repetitive and he alternatively switched between these two after every few minutes or perhaps, after every half minute.

"dostoyevsky." you moaned out and fyodor at once froze before he hummed and began again to ravish and abuse and mark your body as his, treating it delicately yet passionately, letting out short growls and whines every once a while.

fyodor's sacks began to tighten the moment your walls increased the intensity with which they clamped his length down and this was done after the second thrust to your g-spot and beyond it -- to kiss your cervix.

fyodor raised his head, licking his bloody lips and smirking arrogantly at how you appeared below him and how much more he can ruin you further, his hand abandoned your breast and grabbed your own hand instead. he clasped his fingers with your's and pushed your hand down on your stomach to have you feel the bulge his dick in creating inside you as it moved in and out and once again in and out before he pushed it in deeper and deeper inside.

his head kissed your g-spot and kissed it, and pressed on it harder and harder. fyodor's tongue licked your bottom lip before he bit down on it to draw out blood but he wasn't satisfied with this, he went down and bit down on the side of your neck and shoulder.

your legs raised as if on instinct and you wrapped it around his thin and small waist while your free hand grabbed at his clothed back and digged hard, your lips now letting out loud moans.

"i am gonna --dostoy -- ah - ahh. please let me cum, please please. harder -- please faster. don't stop, ah - oh, dostoy. dostoyyyy." you whined out his name when he pressed your hand down on your stomach harder while he used the other to grab and squeeze your breast again, digging his nails into your skin as he smiled against your skin to hear you being such a mess for him, to hear your shyness disappear due to the pleasure he is giving and bringing out a bolder side of you.

fyodor lifted himself on his knees just a bit to have a new and fresh angle to thrust inside you, his balls smacking against your ass harshly with each thrust he did and his dick went deeper and deeper, kissing and hitting your g-spot and cervix.

pleasure waltzed down your torso and up your feet as if to meet with each other with extended hands, fyodor's fangs pierced your skin as he continued to bite down hardly on your skin and his nails digging into your skin also drew out blood. the smell of so much blood made fyodor's breath to quicken and he moaned out. immediately the hands of the two forces of pleasure touched each other and with a moan akin to a scream, you came.

". . . dostoy?" you panted out while your hips spasmed as fyodor helped you ride your high out.

with a hum, fyodor lifted his head and blood had tainted his fangs. you raise your free hand to cup his jaw and pull his face towards your own as you left small and continuous pecks on his lips, kitty licking the blood off of his lips.

after a moment or two, fyodor's pace made you scream again as it increased at a inhumane pace, to give one an insight, you were able to respire only once between two or three of his quick thrusts.

he whimpered and pushed his lips hardly against your own, kissing you with force as he thrusted in again. the tip of his dick touched your walls and just the next second, ropes of sticky white shooted out and coated your walls white.

fyodor's body fell on top of your's as he tried to catch his breath, having no intention to pull out of you anytime soon.

rather, once he had calmed down a bit, he pushed his dick deeper to push his cum into you more and hopefully, into your womb.

"do you like the taste of blood now, love?" he quietly asked as he inspected the trail of blood he left on you -- from your cheeks to neck to shoulders to (faintly) your breasts and below it and above it -- wherever the eye could see, fyodor tainted your skin with your own blood.

you licked your lip before answering, "no, i like the taste of your lips."

━━━━━━━ 💋 end.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd fanfic #bsd smut #bsd x female reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you

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thesandsofelsweyr · 1 year

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THE SUS BOY NEXT DOOR

《 PART 2/3 // READ ON AO3 // TAG 》

After coming back from a terrible blind date your asshole neighbor is the last person you want to see right now. He doesn’t have his signature scowl for you tonight, however. Tonight he seems terrified.

《WORDS》 2,748 《CHAPTERS》 1 2 3

《PAIRING》 Arkhamverse Jason Todd x Female Reader

《TROPES》 Hurt/Comfort, First Meetings, Neighbors, Pre-Relationship

《WARNINGS》 Aftermath of Torture/Violence (canon typical), Panic Attacks, Scars, Blood and Injury, Swearing

《TAGLIST》 @tild3ath @iiirhiane-g

《NOTES》

This takes place immediately after Jason leaves his failed Batman confrontation and run-in with the Joker from Arkham Knight: Genesis Part 6.

Reader is a true crime addict who enjoys red wine 🍷

This is my first attempt at a reader-insert fic 🙃

Please consider reblogging if you enjoy the read ❤️ (Thanks for all the support you've given my lil story so far!)

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are very much appreciated!)

You push yourself to your feet and hurry over to his kitchen, flipping on the recessed lighting overhead. The kitchen is as bare and spotless as the other rooms you’ve seen, its countertops clear of the usual clutter you’d expect. No rags nor paper towel roll. No knife block nor coffee maker nor toaster—the appliances are the ones that come standard with the unit. No stacks of unopened mail nor candles nor cookbooks nor a sink full of empty dishes. No signs of life except for the adorable houseplant and some liquid hand soap beside the sink (which is good—you need soap).

You pull open drawers and cabinets, feeling a twinge of guilt for invading his privacy like this but it can’t be helped. Even those are mostly empty, only containing the barest amount of necessities like cups, dishes, and flatware—run-of-the-mill kitchen items that were probably provided with the furnished unit. You do manage to find some clean rags and paper towels (and a coffee maker), but nothing like sandwich bags for the ice. On a whim, you check his freezer and bingo! No food or decapitated heads but plenty of ice packs along with an unopened bottle of vodka. You arch an eyebrow at the curious yet amusing stash. Perhaps coming home injured is a typical Friday night for him.

You turn on the sink faucet then tear off a few sheets of paper towels from the roll, wadding them up and wetting them before adding a few pumps of soap then working up a lather. You can’t get the sight of his bleeding face and swollen neck out of your head. It’s hard to imagine anyone doing that to him against his will. He’s an intimidating guy, to say the least. Over a head taller than you, powerfully built with broad shoulders and thick thighs (and a nice ass). Perhaps he got jumped on his walk home—an all too common occurrence on these crime-ridden streets—and his stubborn pride was too wounded to go to the ER. Or maybe it was a gang thing… some sort of hazing ritual? That could explain the bloody letter on his cheek, too, you suppose. But then you remember his shaking hands and fumbling fingers as he tried and failed to unlock his door, and how he jumped at the sound of your voice. He was scared, you realize, your heart swelling with sudden pity. He was more afraid of you than you were of him. Afraid, and probably hurting, too. That thought makes your heart swell even more. It also leaves you a bit shaken. What in God’s name could frighten him? You can only hope that whatever it is doesn’t plan to make a house call anytime soon.

With the items in hand—ice packs, wet and dry rags, soapy paper towel wads, paper towel roll—you return to his side. He still doesn’t appear to have stirred, which is troubling, you have to admit, but you put it out of your mind for now. You set the items down on the floor beside the corpse-like body before grabbing a throw pillow from his couch. (Yes, a throw pillow. There’s a throw blanket on the couch, too. It’s the strongest evidence yet supporting your furnished unit presumption, since he definitely doesn’t strike you as a throw pillow kind of guy.) You kneel down at his side, then, ever so gently, you slip an arm behind his neck and lift his head enough to pull back his hood and slide the pillow beneath him. Next you take off his cap, revealing a mop of sweat-damp black hair. You sweep the soft locks back from his forehead so that you can place a cold rag against that warm, sweat-slick skin.

That’s when you notice the scars. You’d never been close enough to him to see that his face is absolutely covered in them. Faint white lines that cut through his features: his dark brows, his full lips, his freckle-dusted cheeks, the bent bridge of his nose. The worst one (aside from the J on his cheek, that is) is a deep gash that slashes across his right cheek and his nose, all the way up to his forehead. Another knife wound? Is this guy a masochist with a knife fetish or is there some freak out there who gets off on slicing up this poor guy’s face? Those marks on his neck imply the latter—the more sinister of the two—and that sends a cold chill shuddering up your spine.

Almost magnetically your eyes are drawn back past the (cute) cleft in his chin to those sunken bands of red ringing his throat. A thin line of blood has surfaced along the outer edge of one of the bands, where whatever was used to strangle him had cut into his skin. As you wipe away the blood with one of the soapy paper towel wads you spot several scratches on his neck, and for a moment you wonder if the assailant also used his hands to choke him. But then you feel your own throat constrict as the horrible realization sets in: those are claw marks. Gouges from his own fingernails where he desperately struggled to pry the ligature away and free his windpipe so he could breathe. Defensive wounds where he fought for his life.

You set aside the wet wad, then, driven by some morbid curiosity, you find your fingers returning to his throat. Ever so delicately, as if trying not to wake a sleeping lion, you touch one of the raw indentations in his swollen flesh, tracing it with your fingertip, feeling how the abraded skin had folded inward around whatever had coiled around his neck and tried to choke the life out of him. His throat vibrates gently against your probing fingers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. You lay one of the dry rags across his throat, hiding the hideous damage, then place the ice pack on top, as instructed by the health article you Googled. You do the same for the back of his neck as well.

Now you turn your attention back to his scarred, haggard face. After swiping away the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth you press the soapy paper towel to his cheek, which gradually turns from white to pink as it soaks up the blood seeping from the J carved into his flesh. Once you staunch the bleeding, you lift the towel to replace it with a fresh one, and you get an unimpeded view of what was hiding beneath the cut and the blood, beneath his hat and hood all of those times you passed him in the hallway, all of those times he ducked his head between hunched shoulders to avoid eye contact with you. You pull in a sharp breath. It’s not a J-shaped scar; it’s the letter J branded into his cheek. You can tell by how the skin is puckered around the too-precise curve of the raised letter, by its faint red outline, by how it seems to tug uncomfortably at his cheek.

Your mind rewinds to a few weeks back when you accidentally burned your neck with your curling iron. You’d shrieked like a banshee then thrown the damn thing across your bathroom. The blistered patch of seared skin had throbbed for the rest of the night, and was still sensitive to the touch for the following week. That was the result of hot ceramic glancing against your skin for maybe half a second, if that long. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it would’ve hurt to have held the infernal thing against your neck for long enough to melt a fucking letter into the flesh. And not just any flesh. His cheek; that tender skin right below the orbital bone, less than an inch from his eye. It probably felt like his eyeball was boiling in his eye socket from the immense heat. And the smell! His own flesh barbecuing like meat to be served at a cannibal cook-out…

You don’t want to think about it anymore. You can’t think about it anymore or else you’re gonna be sick. And luckily you don’t have to because a low moan slips from his lips and his lashes begin to flutter. A rush of relief floods through you at the small signs of life, and you absently begin to stroke his soft hair with your hand. Heavy eyelids strain to lift then glassy blue eyes are peeking out from between the slits. You smile down at him, your fingers caringly combing through his tousled hair, easing his way back into consciousness. You expect him to groggily ask where he is or what happened to him.

Instead his eyes snap open, and the romantic portrait you’ve painted inside your mind of this moment is ripped to shreds.

He bolts upright, sending rags and ice packs flying away from him, then that massive wall of muscular torso turns on you. Time seems to somehow speed up and slow down simultaneously as those large, dangerous hands of his are reaching for you, and in that terrible instant you know without a doubt that he means to strangle you. A tiny, panic-stricken sound—the choked cry of ensnared prey—comes from your mouth as you throw up your arms across your face and neck in an comically feeble attempt to defend yourself from certain death, and the thought that flashes through your mind—maybe the last thought you’ll ever have in this lifetime—is that you’ll never have the chance to open that bottle of merlot.

But his hands don’t wrap around your throat; they land on your shoulders, and then you’re sliding, falling backwards from the force of a violent shove, your vision flashing to black as your head bounces off the hardwood floor.

“Ow!” you squeal as a bright burst of pain rings through your skull, leaving you stunned for a split second until your fear takes over, clearing away the haze and stars. You push yourself up on your forearm, blood pounding through your ears as your eyes frantically search for your attacker, heart lurching as you find him.

The guy is scrambling backwards away from you on all fours like some frightened beast, slamming into a floor lamp in his haste to escape. The lamp reels drunkenly, throwing light madly around the room as it whirls, like a waving searchlight at a festival. Then he’s pressed into a corner, able to go no further, yet his hands and heels are gripping the floor for purchase, as if he’s trying to push himself into the walls. As the lamp settles, somehow still upright, its light illuminates the hulking figure backed into the corner behind it, and you notice for the first time that the front of his red hoodie is splattered with an even darker red.

You’re sitting up now, frozen like a deer in headlights, your fight or flight reflexes canceling each other out because you’ve realized that you’re the toothless predator, not the prey, and the guy you’re gaping at with his bloodless face and wild eyes is a cornered animal who’ll do anything to survive. Then, to your horror, that cornered animal seems to remember his claws and reaches for the gun that’s not there, and you thank the universe and every holy entity within it that you disarmed him.

His wide eyes narrow as they lock onto you, and the fear that had filled them only a heartbeat ago has vanished, replaced with a look so cold, so devoid of anything but shadows and darkness, that it turns the blood in your veins to ice.

“Who are you? What’re you doing in my apartment? What the fuck did you do with my gun?” Some of the wildness returns to his eyes as he shouts at you with a scarred voice, wheezing between each sentence. You shrink back, shocked that the guy can speak louder than a mumble, then your attention is caught by something more unnerving than his shouting, something that clutches at your insides. His eyes… The little hairs on the back of your neck stir again as you study those pale blue irises flecked with green, barely visible beneath his blown-out pupils yet still trained on you like a sniper’s laser sights. There’s something wrong with his eyes… But before you can figure it out he roars: “Answer me!” and you can’t help but jump at the hateful ferocity, his deadly strength palpable in his tone.

Your heart’s in your throat again, and your mind is racing out his door, terrified all 200-something pounds of him are about to pounce on you, so you’re surprised when you not only find your words, but shout them back at him, just as vicious.

“Take it easy! I'm your neighbor, remember? You passed out. I was trying to help you. I thought you were fucking dying!”

You see a flicker of recognition flash over his face before a coughing fit takes him. Then it hits you, like a punch to the gut as you watch him clutching at his blood-splattered chest again as he gasps for a breath. His eyes… they’re red where they should be white. All of the binged episodes of Forensic Files come flooding back to you and you even remember the term for it: petechial hemorrhaging. Burst blood vessels from strangulation. His strangulation.

The rush of pity that wells up in your chest at the awful realization calms your fear enough that you crawl a tiny bit closer to him. “You’re hurt,” you say gently, trying to keep your nerves from shaking your voice. “Your neck…”

You trail off as his eyes snap back to you, pupils still blown wide. You try to hold onto his skittish gaze, praying he won’t notice his gun behind you and lunge, but his eyes fall away to the floor. He raises his free hand to his neck, as slowly as if his wrists were chained to the floor, and touches one of the red furrows there. Then his trembling fingers move to his brand, where fresh beads of blood have surfaced. You hear him mutter something so low and tremulous it’s barely audible, but you think it sounded like… “Plan J”?

“I cleaned it with soap and water,” you reply as he stares blankly at his bloody fingertips. “But it’s deep. You may need stitches. I can bring you some Band-Aids,” you pause, feeling really fucking stupid for suggesting Band-Aids for the guy who’s been strangled and cut and branded. You blurt out the rest: “If you need them… for the time being.”

His eyes have glazed over, as if he’s gone somewhere far away. Somewhere terrible, because his rasping breath quickens and his whole body starts to shake, as though he’s reliving something. His attack? His branding? All of the times that monster of a person cut his face? You desperately want to reach for his hand, to pull him back from whatever hell he’s been sucked into, but you’re too scared to wake that cornered wild animal again.

Finally he snaps out of it, and his eyes close as his hand drops limply to the floor. You watch helplessly as the tension drains from his body and he sags forward, like he’s been crushed by whatever was waiting for him in that flashback.

“You should go,” he mumbles to the floor, barely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself agree. As you stand you remind yourself that you can finally have that glass of wine, but the notion isn’t as appealing as it was earlier in the night.

You gather up your phone and bag. You start to ask if you can get him anything before you go but you know his answer so you turn to leave.

“Thank you.” His small voice cracks like a little boy’s when he speaks, and you know he’s started to cry.

“Yeah, sure,” you say softly as you turn the knob and push open his door. You glance over your shoulder at him one last time. The sight of the broken boy—the boy whose name you still don’t know—huddled in a corner with his knees pulled to his chest, weeping into his hands, wrings your heart out like a wet rag, and you feel your own throat tighten up with tears. You hang your head as you shut the door softly behind you.

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alcinaslittlemaid · 2 months

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🎈𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕?🎈

Pennywise 17x Papawise 90! XFem!?Reader

HUGE TW⚠️

I’m depressed again so y’all know what that means?

Comfort and kisses!+Fluff! from the 7ft clown 🥲🎀🎈

Tw: Self harm mention, thoughts of Sewerslide, shitty mental health, medication mention, mental breakdowns, attempts of overdose! Emetephobia!!

The fluff begins in the second ———

Grab a cuppa tea or coffee and Enjoy! 🍷

—————————————————————

You curled up against the large plushies propped up against the wall of your bed, your whole body shaking, your eyes stung from constant tears that streamed down your soft cheeks. Your medication had not worked, causing you to stay up later than usual after pennywise tucked you into bed, before going on a hunt.

You cautiously got up, your mind blank, almost as if you were in a thoughtless trance, you began to make your way to the bathroom. Dried tear tracks coating your face, your pressed a sharp, metal blade into your arm deep, fresh tears dripped down your face, blood gushing out of your arm as you picked up a bottle of pills from the cabinet and began taking them all at once. Stood there staring into the mirror, the room began to spin violently, your throat filling with vomit and your motions becoming mindless and slurred, you became dizzy and suddenly everything went black as you numbly felt your body smack into the floor. ————————

You felt your body be lifted from the cold, hard bathroom floor, spit trailing from your lips causing a long line of drool behind your body.

“Is she alright?” A gruff voice echoed out in your unconscious state “she will be…” a raspy voice answered back as the sound of water sloshing filled your ears in an echoey way “what in the georgies dismembered arm happens to her arms?” The gruff voice sounded concerned “Long story, I’ll tell you don’t worry” the raspy voice replied. Suddenly, your lips were pressed against another pair, air filling your lungs “Come on Y/n” one of the voices puffed “

You sat bolt right up coughing and spluttering “fuck-“, you choked, vomit filling your throat as you puked into the murky water “Aughhhhh- Ayghhhh” you panted “Cough it up doll, it might be a gold watch” papa chuckled, happy that your alive “Now come here” you were suddenly dragged into a bear hug by pennywise, his soft, silk suit rubbing against you “Oh little lamb~ you scared me half to death, I thought you were a goner” You swear you could hear his voice breaking, his heart was racing in his chest

“Come here darlin” papa said pulling you into his arms, holding a fresh cup of water “here clear out your immune system a little” you nodded and almost downed the water immediately “Woah, Woah Woah doll face, slow down you’ll give yourself hiccups” he chuckled again before laying you down in penny’s nest pulling the blankets over you, penny dragging an anti bacterial wipe over your gushing arms “ARGH SHITT!” You snarled in agonising pain, papa smacked your head with a newspaper he was reading “language babydoll” he growled as he kneeled down by your arm, wrapping it in bandages and pinning them up “Shhhh it’s okay pet, shhh”

Finally, either clowns crawled in on either side of you snuggling into you with they’re arms snaking around as you all fall asleep, protected, snug and safe.

Penny’s hand snakes into your hair, drawing little circles on your scalp “Mine precious dolly” he purred drooling slightly on your chest❤️

—————————————

I’m sorry for this sob story but again my mental health has declined rapidly so it’s a bit personal 😅

I’ll try not to post as much upsetting stuff

Love you all ❤️❤️

#pennywise smut #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #pennywise fanfic #pennywise the clown #papawise #papawise x reader #actually mentally ill #mental health #mentalheathawareness #it 2017 #it 1990 #it chapter 2

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beababoobies · 3 months

Note

Omg, you did the request for angst- YIPEEE, TEARS!!!

I couldn't save my tears, I drank them, so have my blood instead, queen 🍷

Anyway- after good angst, fluff comes to the rescue for a smile!

So maybe by some magical reason, or pure determination on Cherri's party, She gets redeemed and goes to heaven. She spends her days there just chillin livin her life, then she bumps into sir Pentious? Maybe when they meet, Sir Pentious just stands there like a deer in headlights, and she goes over to him in her usual sass, but in the inside, she just wants to cry to him or smthn.

Then maybe, Sir Pentious gathers his courage and asks her out?

Happy ending! Maybe.

I want them to be happy damnit-

Yes. Sobs. Yes. I want them to be happy too. Thank you for the blood, it has a lil sweetness to it, yummers!!! Here’s some cherrisnake FINALLY BEING FUCKING HAPPY in return. Enjoy my love!

Together Again

Cherrisnake my beloved, words : 1k.

After nearly ten months of rehab, seeing most of the other residents achieve angelic status, even being clean for four of those months (because Charlie and Vaggie took away her drug stash, but wtv, still counts losers!) she had went to sleep the same way as she usually did, saluting Pentious’ portrait and as she had starting doing, blowing a little kiss to it, going outside to drop some flowers at his grave and finally tucking herself into bed, she fell asleep.

But this felt… different. She felt like she was only asleep for maybe a couple seconds before she felt the thud of warm marble floors beneath her, scrambling to her feet and reaching into her back pocket for an emergency bomb - only to find nothing there. She opened her eye, only to have to close it quickly because of the shining golden light of the ceiling above. Then there was an excited squeal, and an Angel rushed towards here

“A new sinner! A new sinner has reached rehabilitation!” She squealed out, reaching out to help Cherri with her bearings, only for Cherri to flinch away, staring at her, completely bewildered. She knew she had been making progress, but she had no clue it was this much progress. She almost felt disappointment that she was here already.

“Oh! Where are my manners?” The sarafim chirped excitedly, reaching out her hand for Cherri to cautiously shake, only to pull back in shock when her hands were now laces with hints of gold. “I’m Emily, or Em, or - just call me whatever! I’m the second sarafim of heaven, congratulations on making angelic status!” She said with a big smile. Cherri nodded slowly, still taking in her bearings. She would miss Pentious’ portrait.

She spent her first couple days walking around aimlessly in the golden-rimmed, shiny palace that was heaven. She found out you could still fight in heaven, but it was a safe sort of contest, or sport. And there wasn’t any deadly weapons, either. It was safe. She couldn’t lie and say there wasn’t nothing in Hell she missed, but it was comfortable up here. Like the calm after the storm.

At the end of her first week, she decided to finally go out for drinks at a popular angelic bar. There was no hangovers here, Em had explained. And the liquor, she had found out, tasted unbelievably pleasant. No one was knocking into her, or groping her. No one was cornering her at gunpoint. People would come up and talk to her about more than just trying to get into her pants.

And the best part? You could still go to town on the dance floor. And unlike she had originally joked, they still had catchy music and her favourite songs playing at clubs. That became most of her nightly routine, to try and start to recover from the pain of losing Pentious as quickly as she got him. Dancing out and about with angels, because she still, secretly, couldn’t think of herself as one.

That was, until she accidentally bumped into a tall stranger, falling back slightly before she started apologizing, which was something Charlie had taught her about while she was still in rehabilitation. She thought she was quite good at it by now. She thought that until the tall stranger turned around and stole all the words from her throat for a second.

He was even more handsome, gold accents now covering his body as his eyes grew wide, words seeming to get stuck in his throat as well. She chuckled softly, snapping herself back out of her bewildered state. Be cool, Cherri. She thought. It was one kiss. She told herself. He’s probably forgotten now.

“You fucker!” She chuckled out with her usual tone, punching him playfully and lightly in the arm, looking up at him with her eye that let him see right through her words, right into the rope that was squeezing her heart so hard it felt like it might burst. “You look even worse than when you last sacrificed yourself for us!” She tried at another sarcastic hit, only to be met with the same shocked silence, before his face melted into pure adoration.

“Don’t give me the goo-goo eyes, pleassseee.” She jokes, trying to avoid them, because she knew she’d melt just the same, swallowing thickly as he put his hand on her cheek, tilting her face to look up at his. Her bottom lip trembled.

“I didn’t know how you could look even prettier.” He mumbles out quietly, watching tears start to form in her eye as she tries to blink them away to no avail, blush spreading over her cheeks, just the same as the day he’d kissed her. “But you’ve gone and proved me wrong, Missss Cherri Bomb.” He mumbled out softly, leaning in slightly, eyes trailing to her lips and back up to eye, now a beautiful ocean blue.

She sniffles softly, words stuck in her throat before he scoops her up by the curve of her back, dipping her down as he kissed her - just like months ago, his hand squeezing at her like she would slip out of his grip at any moment. She melted into the kiss, pressing her lips back against his, feeling back in the moment. Feeling a missing piece of her click back into place, finally.

He finally pulled his lips off her, looking down at her with adoration swimming in his eyes, and she just smiles, blushing as she finally looks him in the eyes. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that again, Miss Cherri.” He mumbled out softly.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to do it again, Pentious.” She replied with a smile, tears in her eye finally breaking and a small stream of her tears running down her cheek as she put her hands onto the back of his head, eyeing his lips.

“One more time for good measure.”

#cherrisnake #cherri bomb x sir pentious #hazbin cherri bomb #sir pentious x cherri bomb #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel spoilers #im screaming

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pieroulette · 11 months

Text

YANDERE FAIRY! TAEHYUN HEADCANONS 🍷🍒

author's note.. i was just watching sugar rush ride an hour ago and suddenly wanted to write yandere! taehyun 😭😭 anyways I want to grow my yandere collection as well (〒﹏〒)

warning.. dead cat being eaten- yandere behaviours..

despite being ill, you were adamant to chase after your auntie's cat who somehow lose a screw in her brain to suddenly sprint through the woods before your eyes.

the path to the woods were surrounded with branches that scrape against your frail arms and knees, only hissing at every contact for your mind has sent upon on finding your precious cat

though as you keep pushing through and through, the still trees seems to put your head in a dazed.

the ground beneath you pushing you down, resulting on your unconsciousness

when you woke up, you were met with the sight of lush pink hair and mysterious eyes staring deep into your soul. "pretty."

"uhm? who are you.." pushing your exhausted body away from the crouching boy in front of you.

he didn't answer, only curiosity spiraling in his fluttering orbs

his odd appearance intrigued you, for he reminds you of the characters you read in fairy tale books, like peter pan.

but as much as he pique your interest, fear blended with it as well.

you remain silent as you push yourself back up, his eyes still hovering on you. for a good moment, you thought he was a lifeless doll that somehow appears before you.

"where are you going, little miss?"

you swore your blood run cold when he finally spoke, gulping your saliva down your throat as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at those eyes once again.

"t-to find my cat.." stuttering, huh? you mentally cussed yourself for making yourself look like an easy prey. "just go away! why are you even looking at me like this??"

you sprint ahead, wanting nothing more but to avoid the pink haired boy. as the leaves crunched beneath your shivering feet, your eyebrows furrowed at the thought that the boy was probably not a human.

shaking the thought away, a meow from the distance perked your ears. relief washes over your soul when you recognise it as your aunt's cat call for help.

however as soon as you arrive to the source of the noise, your eyes shot wide open at the sight of the pink haired boy once again—this time with crimson shades dripping down his long fingers and down the corners of his cherry lips.

your scream echoed through the odd shades of the trees surrounding you.

your cat, a corpse by now, dangling on the tight grip of the pink haired boy as he hummed in delight, lapping his tongue against his lower lip. "you came again."

"m-my cat! what did you do?! you're insane!" you were unable to process the horrendous scene before you, ruffling your nails against your head in attempts to soothe your rampant heart.

"huh? your cat?" he looks down to the tiny corpse on the ground, giggling as his eyebrows raised upon the thought. "sorry! i didn't know, my bad.."

your rattling orbs froze when his nose brushes against your cheek, hot breathe brushing your neck causing shiver running down your spine. all happening in a split second.

"you'll forgive me right?"

"what?!"

"i said.. you'll forgive me right?" soft pink strands almost covering his guilty orbs yet expressionless face.

"how can i?!" you cried out, pushing him away harshly on his chest, tears flooding your eyes as your vision fell upon your cat's corpse. "you're fucking insane— get lost..! get lost!"

"i wasn't asking." the pink haired boy frowned, tilting his head as he did so. seemingly amused by your hysterical state. "it was an order, little miss."

"who do you think you are?!"

"your lover."

speechless, you have no desire to entertain the incarnation of insanity before you. deciding to let it go despite the ache gripping your heart.

however, it doesn't seem as if the pink haired boy had any intentions to let you go, though. opting to prevent you from going away by tugging your hair down much to your shriek of pain, "what do you think you're doing?! let me go you bastard!"

"i just think i had to tame you down a tiny bit, love."

"i am not your lover! you moron! let me go!"

"huh.. why?" the boy let out a dejected sigh, tightening his grip on your hair—pulling you closer to his chest. "i was being kind to you, by giving you a nice offer."

you whimpered in utter pain.

"i guess what they say was true," lifting your chin with his other hand, forcing you to meet his doe eyes. "humans are ungrateful."

"fuck you." you spat out.

he giggled at your face, "how about this..?" he hummed as he looks down at your lifeless cat.

"you seem really sad to see your pet being gone. would you like to be my pet instead, then?"

"you're insane! just who do you think you are?!"

"my name's taehyun." a menacing smirk adorned the pink haired boy's cherry lips as he leaned closer, "say hi to your new master, pet."

#txt oneshots #txt scenarios #txt reactions #txt fanfic #txt #txt taehyun #taehyun x reader #txt x reader #yandere txt #txt headcanons #tomorrow x together #kang taehyun #txt imagines #txt fluff #tomorrow x together x reader

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akkkkollle · 2 years

Note

Thoughts on yandere reader? I always see only yandere x reader

Pairing: Sanzu × M!Reader, Bonten!Mikey × M!Reader, Chifuyu × M!Reader, Souya × M!Reader, Mitsuya × M!Reader.

Words: 2000+.

CW/TW: yandere, mention, murder, manipulation, codependency, torture, sex, more detailed pre-warnings before stories.

🍷Sanzu.(2 yandere, what could be worse?)

CW/TW: Belonging, murder, strangulation, manipulation, punishments, threats, hints of self-satisfaction.

God, you're a killer couple. Literally and figuratively. You are ready to kill anyone for each other. But if you look at it from the other side... You're both deadly to each other. This is an abusive relationship and you are almost always the abuser. You want this guy only for yourself, he should belong only to you, listen only to you, see only you, hear only you, talk only to you. But it's very difficult because of his work. Even if you both work at Bonten, everything is still difficult. Jealousy absolutely always eats you up. Sanzu can be controlled, but you are not. But Sanzu is ready for anything. You can attach millions of bugs, wiretaps, cameras to it, install constant surveillance on it, and so on. So you more or less stay calm in most cases. But sometimes...

- What do you do? - you ask, looking into the room.

- M/N, we are in the torture chamber. What do you think I'm doing? - slightly sarcastic, but with a smile he asked.

- Why did you take it off? - you show the wiretap and he just comes up to you, takes it back and puts it back on.

-I just thought it would be bad for you to listen to that idiot's screams. - he points back to where the corpse is already lying. - I was going to put it back on, but you came.

You feel your muscles tense up. He just turns around and goes to put everything in its place. You feel that he's not telling you something. But what exactly? An unpleasant feeling of jealousy fills your whole mind. Of course, there's nothing here that would indicate treason, but damn...

- Sanzu. - he shudders when he hears his last name and turns to you. - You're lying to me.

His eyes widen slightly, almost imperceptibly for someone other than you, but he shakes his head negatively and turns back. His back stiffens when he hears your slow footsteps approaching him. A feeling of fear, not peculiar to him, suddenly wakes up when he begins to tremble. He knows perfectly well what you're capable of when you're jealous and he really does want to experience it, although it's scary for him.

He flinches when he feels your hand wrap around his neck, squeezing hard, probably leaving a bruise behind. His hands rest on the windowsill, on which he wanted to wipe the blood, but fate decided otherwise. He hears and feels your whisper in his ear and it causes a shiver through his body:

-Are you sure you're not lying?

- I'm sure... - you squeeze his neck harder, making him choke. - ... master.

-Then what are you hiding from me? - your other hand starts teasing slowly down his neck to his back.

- Oh, me... I didn't take it off for that reason.

- And for what reason? - you whisper right into his neck, lowering your fingers lower and lower, almost touching the waistband of his trousers.

- I wanted you to be jealous. But I really didn't cheat..! - he shudders when he feels cold fingers on his warm skin next to his hole.

-You wanted to make me angry? Did you want me to punish you again for being such a naughty little brat? - you squeeze his hand, almost cutting off all oxygen to him. - So I won't do what you want.

You immediately release his neck and remove your other hand, starting to leave. He makes a sound of surprise and turns to you. He quickly puts his arm around your waist, pressing against your back.

- But wait... you...! - you tear it off in the middle of a sentence.

- A month without sex, Haruchi. - his eyes widen even more and he looks at the back of your head. - If I find out that you used something for satisfaction, I will destroy it.

-And if these are my hands...? - he asked cautiously.

- I'll cut it off. - calmly and seriously you said, freeing yourself from his grip, and leaving the room, leaving him with a painful erection and a corpse.

🍷Bonten!Mikey.

CW/TW: after sex, mention of hickeys, bites and bruises, mass murder, codependency, praise, Mikey is insecure, smoking.

These relationships are most likely completely incomprehensible to anyone. Either you are codependent and cannot live without each other. Either he just belongs to you, or maybe you belong to him. Whether it's not even a relationship, it's a continuous bloody chaos. And frankly, all three options will be correct.

You're both absolutely insane. You don't know what mercy is. If you don't like a certain person, you will no doubt kill him. And if this person does something serious... He will die in the most terrible agony. You can only be nice to each other, no one else should see you as anyone but the brutal Bonten bosses.

You sigh, taking a drag, feeling the blonde pressing against your thigh. You run your hand through his hair, exhaling smoke.

- Did you like it? - he asks, moving his finger along your thigh.

-Of course. How can I not like something if it's you? - you can feel him smiling weakly, pressing his cheek against your skin.

- Only I can give you such pleasure, right? - he asks, forcing you to look at him.

- It was, is and will be only you. - you put out your cigarette, lying down to him, pulling him to your chest. - You were my only one, so you will be.

- I'm glad. - he's hugging you, snuggling up to you. - I am also only yours.

You look down at his body. Your gaze falls on his back, the right side of his torso, neck and hips. They're all covered in your hickeys, bites, and handprints.

-That's understandable enough, my love. Have I been too intrusive with the marks? - he chuckles, glancing down fleetingly.

- No, I like it. - he's yawning. - Good night anyway.

- Good night, darling. - you stroke his head and already hear a soft sniff.

After a few minutes, you pick up the phone, opening the news feed, hoping to see exactly what you need. A smile appeared on your lips when almost everyone was talking about killing several dozen people today. You just put the phone down and kissed Mikey, which made him wince a little.

🍷Chifuyu.

CW/TW: manipulation, crying, handcuffs, rough sex, pleading.

Unexpectedly? Most likely yes. So, your relationship would definitely be like something very comfortable, but manipulative on both sides. You would constantly manipulate him, limiting him in everything. And he would constantly manipulate his feelings and emotions for your attention, but he's a bad liar, so... It doesn't always work. Well, more precisely, it almost never works, but you play along with him because you love him.

- M-m/n, hmm... - his hands are twitching in handcuffs while his body is twitching under the onslaught of your thrusts.

- Why are you crying, kitty? You said yourself that you don't have enough extreme, I didn't want to upset you. - you say sweetly, kissing him on the nose.

He nods, sobbing. He knows that he asked for it and he likes it, but he cries just for the reason to cause your pity. It's a pity he doesn't understand that you know the whole truth.

- Then I can be even rougher, right? - he nods, making you laugh, but you make the thrusts deeper and faster.

His legs twitch as he wraps his arms around your torso. Tears are streaming down his red face, rolling down his hickey-covered neck. His lips were swollen from a recent make-out session. His breathing is absolutely uneven and absolutely heavy.

- Come on as hard as possible! - he moans, sobbing again, he shouts, tearing off the mask of the "vulnerable" boy.

Souya.

CW/TW: riding, praise, sadism (not in the direction of Angry), mention of blood, teasing.

He's such an angel. You will not and cannot touch him. He's too innocent. You know that he truly loves you and would not think about cheating. But these idiots who climb to him annoy you very much. But your precious boyfriend is not a conflicted person, especially against girls, so he just endures. But you're not. Although he will never know about it. He just doesn't need it, you will drive them away from him in words, and in the evening they will remember only your face looking at them with absolute contempt. Although when you come with drops of blood on your clothes, he is very worried.

-See, angel? I'm fine... And you, too. - you say, watching his little body bounce up and down on your cock.

- Y-yes. I just thought, ha, that you were hurt, d-dear. - his face is on your shoulder while his arms are around your neck.

Your hands wrap around his chest, and your thumbs start playing with his nipples, which makes him moan and then whine. His jumps became very unintelligible. Different pace, strength and time. So you just throw him on his back, making him gasp.

- Do you mind if I help, my love? - he shakes his head negatively and groans contentedly when your dick starts moving in it again, touching all the right places.

Mitsuya.

CW/TW: murder, sex on the table, rubbing nipples and penis with other objects

With him, you also understand that he is not capable of treason. He's too busy, but that's the problem. He is a designer, therefore he works more with girls. Beautiful girls. Of course, he's probably gay if he's dating you. But suddenly one of them will change his mind and he will fall in love with her.

But he always assures you that you are the most beautiful person he has ever seen and he loves and will love only you. But there are bouts of jealousy in any case, especially with you, yandere-kun.

- Ah, M/N! S-so deep...! - he groans, feeling you hit right into his prostate.

His hands are on the table, clutching it. His chest rubs against the surface, rubbing his sensitive nipples. Your hands gripping his hips. And, of course, his penis, which also rubs against the smooth surface of the table.

The dress he worked on earlier has long been forgotten and lies on this very table, moving in such a way to your thrusts.

- So what, Takashi? - you whisper in his ear, causing goosebumps on his body.

- You knew before that you were my best model, M-m/n ... - he turns his face to you, grabbing your lips in a greedy kiss, pulling away after a few seconds.

You just smile, knowing full well that that girl obviously won't get her dress anymore. Well, more precisely, the dress won't get her. Her shouldn't have touched your favorite guy, right?

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sage-green-matcha · 10 months

Text

MAROON - ETHAN LANDRY PT. 6🍷🥀🔪

"And I wake with your memory over me. That's a real fuckin' legacy to leave” - Taylor Swift

Content includes: you being depressed! that's all

PT. 1 of Maroon I PT. 2 of Maroon I PT. 3 of Maroon |

PT. 4 of Maroon | PT. 5 of Maroon |

You looked up, Danny Running into the police station with exhaustion on his face. "I came as fast as I could" "did you?" Tara questioned. He had become a suspect, not seeing him all day and now suddenly he appears, it was weird ."Guys, I'm scared" Mindy, who was always strong was scared, so the rest of you were horrified.

"I really don't wanna get hurt again" she mumbled. You took her hand into yours, placing your head on her shoulder. "Neither do I" Chads voice was shaky, cold, scared. The battle between the group and ghost Face was more than exhausting. You felt your will to live drain with every person you saw get hurt.

"I don't want you getting hurt again either, Chad" he rested his head on his twins shoulder, a soft "I know" escaping his lips. Sams was emotionless, eyes looking down as she thought, hard. "So what do we do now?" You sighed, Chads question going unanswered. None of you knew what to do, there was nothing you could do to make this stop. It was a never ending game and you weren't ready for the next level.

"Maybe he gets to win this time" Sam bit back on her lip, all of you looking up at her. "He wants to punish me, me. So maybe i let him" She stood up, defeat all over her face. "I'll just give myself up" she sniffed, shaking her head. You all looked at her with concern. "If this is what I have to do, to keep you safe. It's worth it" "No? We're not doing this, Sam. Alright? You loved back to Woodsboro to protect me, every singe day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive If it weren't for you" the three of you nodded, agreeing with Tara.

"You have to let us protect you this time" tears welled in her eyes, Sam shaking her head. "Yes, Sam...we're a Team? Remember?" You felt Mindy stand up, letting go of your hand. "Actually, we're a family" Chad smiled as he dragged you up, clapping. "Let's go! Fantastic 5! Come on" chad smiled at all of you, his face filling back with his classic smile.

"Fantastic five..yea okay" you felt bad for Danny, being excluded from the group. "It's an us thing" Chad added. "He's gonna keep coming after us" tears fell onto her cheeks, wiping them away with the sleeve of her jacket. "Isn't there somewhere safe we can just hol up in?" You almost forgot Quinn was still here, her presence not missed. "He's just gonna keep finding us" you answered, a sigh escaping her lips. "Great.."

"We could use that though..." you looked up at the group. "He keeps finding us, right? So what if we just go into a secure location and kill him...I mean it makes sense, we could use it to our advantage" the light bulb in your brain flickered with ideas. "Call Bailey" Tara grabbed her Phone, calling His Number.

"You want me to do what?" You could hear his confusion from over the phone, Tara going over the plan again. "And then what..?" You gulped, biting your lip with nerves. "We execute him" you waited for a response, scared that he wasn't gonna agree. "Are you gonna help us?" The silence was nerve wrecking. "Let's kill the son of a bitch" weight lifted off your shoulder, Chad patting you on the back.

"Now, I'm stuck here but Gale gave us the Key cards to the theater., It's got heavy surveillance and security cameras but we can use that against him. I'll tell Kirby to meet you there and I'll meet you kids as soon as i can" "Got it" you smiled, your plan already in action. "And remember, travel in public. The more people around you the less chance he has to take a shot at you before you get there" you chewed on the inside of your cheek, playing with the blood stained bracelets on your wrist.

"We should get going then" Quinn mumbled. "You guys really think this is gonna work?" You questioned your plan, everyone nodding. "Well it better, it's not like we have any better ideas" the walk to the Station was painful, crowds all over the streets of New York. Everyone was in costumes, what a fun way to spend your Halloween night.

"This plan feels junky" Quinn added, walking down the heavily crowded stairs. "You don't have to come if you don't want to" Tara spat. "So we just peel off and then the killer kills us off one by one? Yea, I think I'm good" "let's just get to the theater" you shook your head.

You followed Sam, taking a hold of her hand as she pushed inside the train. Chad and Tara followed behind. "Where's Mindy?" You furrowed your eyebrows, standing on your tiptoes to try and find her.

"Hey, Mindy! Mindy!" You watched as Chad tried to pull her in, blocked off by a stranger. "Fuck!" She banged against the door, a groan escaping your lips. "Well, we're fucked" you smiled awkwardly. "She's with Quinn right?" Sam asked. "Yea, great...shes alone with one of our suspects" chad mumbled.

"Shit..." you all looked at what Chad was looking at. Two masked figures mixed into the crowd. It was like a haunted house packed into a train, the masks varying from ghost face to jigsaw. "How many stops do we have?" Tara asked, Sam looking at the map. "Ten..." you all looked at each other again, heads shaking as you pulled out your phone. You opened Mindys text, reading it out loud. "Great, I'm stuck with gf. I'll meet you guys there" well, this plan is going really well!" You exaggerated. You began to question why you even brought up the idea. But it's not like anyone had anything better. It also just made the most sense.

The train made a stop, Scooting yourself back as you saw a ghost face mask walk towards your group. "Guys.." Cute boy stood in front of all of you, your paranoid states calming down as the mask man walked out of the train.

"Finally, come on let's go" You all walked out of the train station, Kirby waiting as you exited. "Hey, I talked to Bailey, we've got everything set up...where are Mindy and Quinn?" "They're 5 minutes behind us" you filled her in, walking into the dark alley to get into the theater. "Not you, Dan. Don't trust anyone...remember? We don't know you" it was safer if he didn't come, if he was ghost face than fuck, but if he wasn't it would be safer if he wasn't involved at all.

Your heart raced as you entered, looking around the familiar space. "I cleared the whole place before you got here, so this is the only way to get in it out. We've turned it into a kill box" "and...the weapons?" She pointed down to her belt. "One gun, and I hold onto it" Sam gave her a stare. "I'm the only one with a badge here, so that's the way it's gonna be, we're safe here"

"I'll check in with Mindy, see if they're close" sam and Tara took off their jackets. You tied Ethan's tightly around your waist, checking for the knife in your pocket. You started carrying one since Woodsboro, you knew it would come in handy.

You decided to wait upstairs by yourself, probably not the best idea but you knew you'd be safe. Chad and Tara wandered off, Sam in your eyesight as she stood on the stage.

You heard her phone ring, running up to the balcony before rushing down the stairs. "Sam" she turned, her eyes squinting as she took the call. "Get out of there Sam, you're not safe" You looked down at the phone in confusion, Bailey on the other line. "I heard from the Atlanta field office, they said agent Reeds has been on a downward spiral since the Woodsboro murders last year" "What is he talking about?" She shrugged, turning up the volume on her phone.

"They fired Kirby two months ago for being mentally unstable" You gave Sam a look, the both of you putting the pieces together. "She's no longer with the FBI" Your eyes widened before you ran towards the door. "No! Sam, it's locked, remember?" She tried to wiggle the door open, stopping as the lights shut off. "Where'd you get that knife?" "My dad's box.." she pulled your closer, holding the weapon out in front of her.

Your heart jumped as you heard a noise, a voice. Coming from the projector. There was a video playing on the ripped-up screen, no idea how it got down. "Oh...shit" it was a girl getting stabbed, murdered by someone in a ghost face mask. The two of you watched in horror, no words as the film continued to play.

"Could you put that thing down?" You asked and she shook her head. You heard a loud scream, glass breaking as you and Sam rushed towards the others. You swung open the door, scared as Tara screamed in pain. "Come on! Come on! Go, go" you panted as you ran, helping Tara stay up. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" "No shit!" Chad ran towards the door. "That's locked!" You screamed, "She made this whole theater a kill box" you added, walking down.

"Hey! What about that? There's an Exit door! Maybe it leads to the roof or something?” You pointed, everyone, looking down at the ladder. "There's only one way to find out, come on let's go" "Baileys on his way by the-" You jumped back, Ghost Face waving his awful knife in front of you. “God, we’re fucked”

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vilsoo · 2 years

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‎ VILSOO PRESENTS…

‎ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ‎ ‎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧… 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫!

‎ 𖤐 ENTRY TICKET HERE 𖤐 ‎ ֺ [ taglist ]

semi-inspired by Universal Studios/Halloween Horror Nights, indulge in sex and horror galore at our premiere kinktober event, HORRORLAND! hell is empty; all the devils are here waiting to play. would you be willing to venture our haunted houses and scare zones, face our exhilarating attractions, and uncover the scandalous, deadly mysteries of horrorland?

‎ OPENED OCTOBER 2022 🕸

fandoms: jujutsu kaisen, attack on titan, five nights at freddy’s

⚠︎ beware that event may be too intense for parkland guests and is NOT recommended for minors. horrorland will explore darker and extreme contents that may be triggering. ⚠︎

‎ VIEW PARKLANDS (KINKTOBER MASTERLIST) ↓

SLAUGHTERVILLE FRIDAYS 🪓 horrorland's number one favorite parkland! prepare for hordes of horror with some of our classic slashers! a character will be headcanoned as a gruesome villian/slasher from classic horror movie franchises.

OCTOBER 7TH: ❝ BRITISH PSYCHO ❞ ➥ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf) as PATRICK BATEMAN

“did you know i’m utterly insane?”

⚠︎ TW: secretary x boss, fear play, age gap (reader is 29, william is 47) slight misogyny, dubcon, coercion, emotional manipulation, sadism, mentions of murder, throat fucking, disturbing sketches/pictures.

OCTOBER 14TH: ❝ SLASHER SLUT ❞ ➥ starring REINER BRAUN (aot) as JASON VOORHEES

“no one will find you here...”

⚠︎ TW: kidnapping, dubcon, semi public sex, strappado position, rope bondage, pantygag, manhandling, creampie, dumbification, mind break, throat fucking, mask kink, impact play.

OCTOBER 28TH: ❝ WANNA PLAY PSYCHO KILLER? ❞ ➥ starring EREN JAEGER (aot) as GHOSTFACE

“hang up on me again, i’ll gut you like a fish.”

⚠︎ TW: home invasion, chase scene, dubcon, yandere, slight stalking, phone sex, jealousy, implied infidelity, blackmailing, slight knife play, and some plot twists.

S&H CITY SATURDAYS🍷a mysterious city bound to corruption, sin, and immorality known as the devil’s playground. these dark streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…

OCTOBER 8TH: ❝ LUST IN THE GRAVEYARD ❞ ➥ starring NANAMI KENTO (jjk)

“i couldn’t stop staring at you all through the eulogy…”

⚠︎ cw: established relationship, bondage with silk tie, voyeurism (spirits), sadism, masochism, knifeplay, cunnilingus, public sex, mating press, breeding, dark obsession, gothic romance, mentions of killing.

OCTOBER 15TH: ❝ 7 MINUTES IN HELL ❞ ➥ starring GETO SUGURU (jjk)

“my poor, innocent little lamb...”

⚠︎ TW: noncon → dubcon, sacrilege, blasphemy, rough demonic sex, stalking, breeding, impregnating, religious guilt, betrayal, impersonation, confessional booth sex, degradation, sadism

OCTOBER 22ND: ❝ FLIRT WITH DEATH ❞ ➥ starring GOJO SATORU (jjk)

“you should know better than to glorify your idols…”

⚠︎ TW: groupie, noncon, intoxication, betrayal, psychotic gojo, fame glorification, ritual, drugging, degradation, teared clothing, brutal murder, gore.

HALLOWEEN WEEKEND🩸feed your fear as the thirst for blood, flesh, and lust terrorize the handsome men in town! such vastly evil sensuality of our iconic maneaters and femme fatales like jennifer check, vampirella, and elaine parks!

OCTOBER 29TH: ❝ MY GIRLFRIEND IS A SUCCUBUS! ❞ ➥ starring MICHAEL AFTON (fnaf)

“hell is a teenage girl.”

⚠︎ cw: established relationship, malewife himbo bf/girlboss demon gf dynamic, revenge, graphic murder scenes, bloody sex, edging, handjob, tentacle bondage, msub michael, mommy kink, face sitting, 69.

OCTOBER 30TH: ❝ SEASON OF THE WITCH ❞ ➥ starring JEAN KIRSTEIN (aot)

“men are like children.”

⚠︎ cw: witch disguised as sex therapist, love and sex spells, bewitched jean, witchcraft, seduction, mdom → msub, hallucinogenic herbs, hopeless romantic, incantations, eventual smut, hypnotism, murder scene.

OCTOBER 31ST: ❝ LUST AT FIRST BITE ❞ ➥ starring TOJI FUSHIGURO (jjk)

“darling, i’m already in your veins.”

⚠︎ cw: vampire hunter toji fushiguro, enemies to lovers, bloodplay, predator/prey dynamic, dubcon → consensual, msub → mdom, sloppy foreplay, rough → soft sex, killing threats, neck biting, marking, hypnosis.

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © . please do not steal or plagiarize my kinktober prompts/works/layouts. i do not allow translations. reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited.

#( 🩸 ) — horrorland.#kinktober 2022 #jujutsu kaisen smut #fnaf smut #attack on titan smut #happy halloween #slasher smut #i literally couldnt wait to publish this #so ready for october this year

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yourdarlingness · 2 months

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Sugar Swan Cookie / True Love's Vow (Cookie Run Ovenbreak)　✦　tumblr layouts

『 F2U 』　;　rb, like, and credit if using

requested by @helioby

#✦　——　@yourdarlingness .#『 🍷 』 ◞◟　with blood & tears #sugar swan cookie #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #sugar swan cookie run #cookie run edits #cookie run layouts #cookie run icons #sugar swan cookie layouts #tumblr layouts #layouts #icons #f2u #f2u with credit

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barbex · 1 year

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“I wish you would write a scene where feelings realization leads to crying with Fenders”. For DADWC 😇🙏

Thank you for the prompt!

🍷🍷🍷 It's truly drunk writing for tonight's @dadrunkwriting, so I'm taking no responsibility for typos and grammar weirdness.

---

It's strangely quiet tonight. The mage and him are... talking. Just talking. Civilised, without yelling and snarling. It started down at the coast, Fenris doesn't even remember what he said but somehow Anders launched into a passionate speech against slavery, swearing to tear every single magister apart and Fenris found himself staring at the mage with a strange feeling in his chest.

Now they just walk through the streets of Kirkwall, both reluctant to call an end to the day. Hawke left them a while ago, waving at them from the door of her mansion and Fenris and Anders somehow took it upon them to patrol the streets of Lowtown. He doesn't know why. It's as if they don't want to part, not yet.

He is recalling a meal he once tasted, a tevinter speciality, and Anders compares it to something he once ate in Orlais, guessing at ingredients, herbs. They're distracted. He is distracted.

It's the only explanation he has because one minute he wonders at the glitter in Anders' eyes and the next his ears are ringing and the lyrium in his skin is burning and the setting sun blinks through a wall of templar armor.

They're threatening him, not Anders. "Feels like a mage", one of them says with a feral grin. "Smells like a dose," another leers. They step closer, five of them, too many to kill all at once, not here, in his small alley where he can't swing his sword.

And then Anders steps in. His simple part time walking stick, part time spear, glows with the fade, crackling as he slams it into the ground, making the cobblestones vibrate. He takes out two templars, skewering them with ice shards and then burning them to ash. Fenris sinks his fist in one templar, taking out his heart, and then into the other, who steps forward as if nothing could hurt him. But the last one, smarter than his friends, side steps behind Anders, casts Silence, and then plunges a knife into Anders' neck.

Fenris can only watch as Anders stares at him, his hand pressed against his neck. Blood wells up between his fingers, so much blood. The templar runs off, and Fenris catches Anders in his arms as he falls. Anders' eyes are open, looking at him, his mouth silently opening and closing.

"Can you heal?" Fenris asks, pressing his hand over Anders'.

"No, silenced," Anders presses out. Blood drips from both their hands, sluggish but steady. Fenris fumbles for a health potion, pouring one half over the wound and dipping the rest into Anders' mouth. The bleeding slows, but Anders' eyes roll back and he hangs like a sack of grains in Fenris' arms.

Fenris carries him to Hawke's mansion, kicking the door until Bodhan opens it with a loaded crossbow aimed at him. "Serah Fenris, my apologies."

"Help." Fenris carries the mage past Bodhan into the hall. "Hawke! Come here!"

"What?" Hawke appears at the top of the stairs and starts running down when she sees them. "Shit, fuck, put him on the couch there. Bodhan, fetch the injury kit, please." She's by his side in the blink of an eye, efficiently checking the wound. Bodhan hands her a bag and she is busy applying a poultice and bandages.

Fenris steps back. He can't do anything and he doesn't want to be in the way. His hands, arms, and his armor are full of Anders' blood and he walks to the washroom to clean himself up. Pink water swirls down the drain as he cleans his hands. Anders' blood.

"Fenris?" Hawke puts her hand on his shoulder, waking him from a strange kind of stupor. His hands are cold, still suspended in the cold, pink water.

"How..." He just looks at her, lifting his hands from the water.

"He's going to be fine, he just lost a lot of blood." Hawke takes a towel and dries his hands with it. "How are you?"

"I'm... I..." Tears fall from his eyes and his breath turns into a heaving sob. "I nearly lost him."

"I didn't know you felt this way," Hawke says quietly.

Fenris hasn't cried in years but now he can't seem to stop, the tears just roll down his cheeks, gathering in the corners of his lips. They taste salty.

"Come," Hawke says and takes his hand. She leads him over to the couch where Anders rests. He looks pale, nearly as white as the thick bandages at his neck but he breathes evenly.

Fenris stops, letting his hand slip out of Hawke's grasp. "Will you watch him?"

"No."

"What?" Fenris stares at her.

Hawke grins at him. "You will watch him. And don't give me that 'I must keep my feelings secret because I'm a tortured soul' bullshit." She grabs his hand again and pulls him to a chair next to the couch. "Sit your ass down and don't you dare sneak away."

"Hawke, I... I can't." Despite his protests, he sits down, looking at Anders.

Hawke looms over him, pressing him deeper into the chair. "I have never seen you cry. I have never even seen you show a strong emotion, except for when you hiss at mages. And now you cried because Anders nearly died and I may be a romantic idiot but you're gonna stay here, and hold his hand, and when he wakes up, you're going to tell him that you're happy he's alive. Understood?"

Fenris takes Anders' hand, wrapping his fingers around it one by one. "Why is this so important to you?"

Her face turns dark. "Because happiness is scarce in this shit town." She straightens and looks Anders over. "He'll be fine. I'm going back to bed." She puts her hand on top of his, the one that is holding Anders' hand. "It's your life, Fenris. Don't run away from it."

Hawke leaves with a nod, climbing up the stairs. Fenris pulls the chair closer and watches Anders breathe. Another tear adds to the salty taste in his mouth. He nearly lost him and he didn't even know what that meant.

#fenders #Fenris #Anders #fenders fic #Fenris x Anders #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #my writing

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mvniro · 5 months

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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 PLEASE STRIP ME! ; a fyodor dostoyevsky fic. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . till date this fic remains one of my favs. fyodor is so hot ugh.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; sugar daddy!fyodor, sugar baby!reader, fem!reader nsfw, angst in the beginning, confessions, hurt to comfort ig, riding, nipple pinching and sucking, fyodor refers to himself as "daddy", uses of term "dumb doll", fyodor is hot, and that's all ig.

the twilight sky outside analyzed the situation and told the stars about it who twinkled in amusement, all of them finding pleasure in your misery, like the man you gave your heart to.

you glance at the clock on the wall and then huff, turning away from its direction as if the clock was the one behind your emotional state, as if it were the clock who played with your heartstrings as if your heart was an instrument.

it's nearly one in the night and you are still sitting on the luxurious bed with your back against the headboard, reminiscing about the first time you sat on this very bed and felt the same feeling of being an outcast, as if you are a foreign to this luxury -- which you are.

your hands gripped your silk night gown which reached till your midthighs, a very revealing and loose one at that. you bit your lip to produce pain which had the ability to divert your attention away from the aching in your heart.

alas, it worked but in ways you didn't expect. for the physical pain of harshly biting down on your bottom lip was the cheery on top needed by your brain to stimulate a signal which made the dams in your eyes open up, moistoning your eyes and blurring your vision.

at the same moment, the man behind this reaction tried to slowly open the door without making any noise but once he saw the lamp lights on beside the nightstand near the bed, he raised his eyebrows.

fyodor didn't expect you to be awake at this hour and he made sure you knew about this by the way he continued to look at you even while closing the door and walking towards you.

a heart heavier then your brain which is littered with opposing thoughts, you sit straight and look at fyodor, taking a deep breath for the oxygen will be knocked out of you very soon by your own heart.

"what is wrong? can't sleep? is the dress not to your liking?" voiced the man whose cold voice could put even snowy lands to shame, a man who held too much interest in his eyes but too little in his tone for fyodor dostoyevsky is an enigma. even to you who had been with him for more than a year now.

you do not answer, no, you can not. your eyes frantically scan over his features, those soft lips which you can kiss only in your dreams, that pale skin which makes you wonder just how good would it look with love bites, the sharp jaw you want to cup and kiss and lastly, those damned eyes.

the rich dark purple which shines brightly despite those tired looking eyes can captivate you, play you like a doll and you won't even realise for the one who admires the castle won't see the blood, sweat and tears of those who made it.

you gulp, your heart beat being the only sound you heard for a minute or two before you shook your head. ". . .i wanted . . . to talk to you."

why is your voice such a contrast to his? his confident voice puts your quiet and nervous one to shame.

fyodor hums, stepping towards his side of the bed as he lays down with a sigh and after mentally pushing yourself with the reminder that it's either now or never ; you swiftly move to be on top of fyodor, your knees planted on the soft mattress on either sides of his waist as you look down at him with sorrowful eyes.

"aren't i attractive to you? or am i not your type?" murmuring the harsh words which have been piercing your mind ever since you realised you fell for the very man who never kissed you, who made it clear that your presence was something he could buy and he did.

"generally having a sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship means a mutual benefit. sex or sexual favors in exchange of money. of course it varies with different people but . . . paying me only to have my company . . . don't you ever wish to have some more?" your voice -- is it doing justice to convey all your pent up emotions and feelings? you wonder.

now, fyodor is a man of rationality and cold logic but even he is a human.

how can you not see the way he is gulping thickly, able to outline and picture your cunt as the flimsy lingere nightgown is doing its purpose of letting his imagination run loose. the way you are leaning down to be closer to him caused one of the thin straps of the nightgown to fall off your shoulders and near your elbow, allowing fyodor a glimpse of just a small portion of your cleavage.

how can fyodor focus on your words when your lips look so pouty and eyes so moistened? lord, oh lord, you answered his prayers, didn't you?

oh dear lord, is this angel on top of him his to corrupt?

"tell me, why won't you touch me? let me fulfill my duty as a sugarbaby. let me satisfy you sometimes fyodor." you softly let out, staring at him and fyodor, oh fyodor, what are you doing?

why are you pulling on the angel's other strap and letting it fall down her elbow? do you not know your patience and self control is running thin?

you can't do it. you aren't fyodor to conceal your emotions and feelings deep within the chambers of your mind.

so you allow a sob to travel through your throat, allowing it the freedom to be freed and let fyodor hear it, you let him hear your misery.

"you always do this. these actions of yours make me feel as if you desire me too . . . only for you to shut me out by acting cold and distant again." your voice is strained, cracking even as your vocal chord is being choked by the nimble hands of sadness.

"am i some kind of a doll to you? who you can play with as much as you want?" your words don't seem to have any effect on the russian below you whose expressions haven't changed a bit.

it's always this cold and calm look of his which you hate but oh, how you love it too.

and fyodor noticed it. he always does. the way the corner of your eyes soften as your eyes go all doe like whenever you admire his features but he doesn't like how that softness is always shielded by a sheet of longing and sadness.

"if you were to tell me to dance on fire for you, i would gladly become one with the fire for its not the fire which burns me but your coldness, fyodor." you confess, biting your bottom lip in a fragile attempt to stop or hide their quivering but this action of your's, the furrowed eyebrows and the slightly red eyes of your's makes you look all the more appealing to fyodor.

"have i done something to make you feel like so? don't cry. didn't i tell you? your presence brings me joy, your opinions and perspectives are intresting enough for me to spend enough to have you by my side. why? are you not satisfied? do you want more? tell me what you want and it's your's, you know there is no limit to what i've to offer to you." the cold and calm tone accompanied with the russain accent is a voice you hear daily yet still can't get enough of.

you shake your head. no, he can't offer you what you desire.

"i don't want your wealth anymore. i want your love and that's the only thing you can't offer." you weakly mutter and close your eyes, waterfalls of heartbreak wetting your cheeks for even you know that your desire is a painful lie you live in and hope to achieve.

fyodor feels the tightening of his pants and the slight hardening of his cock at your soft sniffles, god, how vile is he to get turned on by your sniffles of sorrow?

"sweet doll, do you think my affection for you is fake? . . . is that what you think? are you getting bored of me? do you want to leave?" fyodor asks, his voice a bit sad, looking at you whose eyes are still closed and hearing his words make you cry even more as you now don't feel shy or hide your sobs, letting them out in the open for fyodor to hear for maybe then, he could understand your feelings.

these simple words are not your breaking point. the sadness lingering in his tone is. the subtle frown which you are sure is adorning his mouth is. those affectionate touches and him being more touchy with you since the past two months only to distance himself from you before things could escalate further is.

the way his hands immediately cling onto your hips as they squeeze your hips tightly but in a comforting manner is.

"i love you! i love you! why are you so smart yet stupid to realise this!? i don't want to be a dumb sugar baby who is happy with a little bit of attention! that won't work for me! i need all of your attention, all of you! fyodor i need you! i need your love, i want your love!" you sob loudly and oh, oh.

not only did you reach your breaking point tonight, fyodor did too.

his grip on your hips tightened and his eyes went a bit dark, more sharper.

"stop testing my patience dumb doll." was a sentence which was enough to make you straighten up and behave yourself, but not tonight. oh definitely not tonight.

tonight you will pour your heart out to him and wait for his judgment.

"i try so hard to make you notice me, to seduce you yet none of them work . . . am I that unattractive? or are you in love with someone else? are you even capable of loving fyodor? capable of loving me?" you stare down at him, eyes sad and lips parted to let quick and short breaths escape along with occasional sobs.

the tears stopped coming long ago as the anguish converted into a cold calmness of sadness and the ones which flowed down your cheek began to dry up but left their trail there for fyodor to see.

this was it. the final push fyodor needed for him to pour out his feelings, his emotions and his pent up desires.

fyodor scoffs in amusement and only tightens his grip on your hips more, enough to leave a bruise and tight enough to immobilize you.

"dumb doll, how can you say all that when you don't even know the thoughts in my head everytime i see you? do you know what i think everytime i make you wear these sexy nightgowns?" fyodor's voice is low and seductive yet it has that soft edge to it and you purse your lips in embarrassment as you feel the wet pool in your core and you know fyodor felt it too or he wouldn't have smirked the way he did, so arrogantly yet arrogance looks good on him, sexy if you may add.

hands of temptation belongs to fyodor as he lets his hands run up and down your curves.

"not treat you like a doll? nonsense. you are my doll, how can i not treat you like one? so fragile and magnificent, all for me." the last part wasn't a hope or wish but a statement. fyodor wasn't asking you to be his, he already made you his when he first paid you for spending time with him.

"do you even know what i think every time i look at you, especially when you look so preety when you are sad?" the smooth voice holding onto the calm and collected tone which made it clear to the receiver that fyodor isn't just any human but a part of the rare percentage who are unbelievably majestic, lured you in, you wondered often if he is a siren.

you shook your head as a no, sniffling occasionally as fyodor's hand went lower towards the hem of your nightgown, he played with it as he said,

"i wish," he muttered, looking at your lips before he looked up at your eyes again, lifting the hem of your nightgown.

"to strip you of your clothes and feel your body . . . with your soft, smooth skin . . ."

you part your lips as you let out a soft gasp, feeling fyodor's cold fingers trail the flesh of your ass before he gripped one of your buttocks and he squeezed it roughtly between his cold fingers as if to show you how your last claim of heartbreak angered him.

hearing your gasp, fyodor smiles seductively, and eyes you, admiring the cut of the dress which was loose enough to give him a glimpse of your cleavage, the way your hair fell all over your face and the way you were basically straddling him which resulted in your nightgown to ride up.

"you say all this but your actions proved otherwise" you furrow your eyebrows as you mutter and the man beneath you just continues to eye you in a more intense, vulgar way.

“to touch you . . . in the most intimate places, but how can i? you know i am a man whose morals and beliefs shape him. so how can i think about you in such a way which contrasts my beliefs?” did he ask you? you weren't sure, your focus was on his hand which went towards your hip and grabbed it.

you part your lips, letting out a shaky breath as fyodor's fingers dig into your skin to grip it while his thumb applies slight pleasure to your hip, it feels as if he is trying to memorize the way your skin feels against him.

“how can i ignore my desires any longer? my desires to kiss you . . .” fyodor's eyes move up and down your body in a perfect coordination with his hands which grab your shoulders, kneading onto them as he then trails his hands down your arms and towards your wrists.

not only is your breath a bit frantic but so is his.

angel, oh angel, is this not enough for you to open your eyes and let go of that foreskaen purity?

oh let the drug who is injected into your veins, begin it works.

you took the drug yourself. the drug named fyodor dostoyevsky.

“and to taste your sweetness.” fyodor tugs on your wrist making you lean near him more.

"my beliefs and morals are what shaped me but you are what makes me feel human. my desires towards you knows no limit so don't ever try to question my emotions and feelings towards you. or i'll make another use of that preety mouth of your's." he whispers that last sentence.

broken. the thread of fyodor's self resistance and control broke.

fyodor pushes your head towards him, pressing his lips against your's as he begins to kiss you, he had always known his feelings would be reciprocated but it sure did feel good to have your lips move against his.

dancing in sin, the music is provided by the short and hot breaths you two share, you could feel your core throb as you placed one of your hands on the bed to stabilize yourself and the other on fyodor's cheek, caressing the skin you dreamt of littering in your marks and kisses.

like a snake, fyodor's hands slithered towards your back to push it to have you more closer towards him.

after a long while, you pull back to catch your breath, looking at fyodor as you parted your lips to speak but how can he just hear words leaving those wet and slightly swollen lips?

oh no. absolutely not.

fyodor pushed himself up slightly to capture your lips in a heated kiss again, elbow propped against the bed while with the other hand, he brushed your hair to the side.

you closed your eyes just like the russain beneath you, trying to appreciate every single movement made by his lips, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip before it entered your mouth and his occasional biting down on your bottom lip.

when he pulls back again to let both of you recover from the lack of oxygen, fyodor chuckles breathlessly.

"fuck it." he mutters a curse before changing your positions, making you lay on your back as his lips cling onto your's yours in a desperate manner, clinging onto you like how a water droplet clings onto the edge of a leaf, wet sounds produced due to the kisses shared between you two were the epitome of just how sinful the night will get from here on.

fyodor is desperate.

more.

more and more.

oh lord, he knew once he started, he won't be able to stop and look, now he is tainting this angel of your's.

what will you do now when he is not letting the angel breath, continuously kissing her, one after the another -- you will do nothing, whatever needs to be done will be decided by the god under whose mercy the angel's heart is.

your heart beating is frantic but not more then the arousal which is aggressively coursing through your veins, you try to clench your legs to stop the slick from dripping on your panties but fyodor's hand on your inner thigh had forced you to keep your leg open.

fyodor leaned down to plant soft kisses on your lips, chin and jaw, trailing the wet kisses as to crave a path of his love.

"i will only ask once for my patience is thin right now, so tell me, sweet doll, tell me if you want this," fyodor leans up to capture your lips in a quick kiss again, "because once i have my way, i'll never let you leave me." he whispers, eyes trailing up to stare at your face and can you really say no to those purple eyes which were hypnotic enough to make your breathing stop midway.

"you are sounding like a big talker right now--" your words were cut short by the gasp which left your lips when fyodor's hand which was on your inner thigh had trailed up to press his thumb against your wet core.

"big talker? i'll show you that i don't speak empty words, dumb doll." fyodor smirks, the silence of the night didn't find it offending how his voice cut through the calm and hot atmosphere and rather they found it just as soothing as you, the russian could almost be passed as a god with the way the moonlight falling from the opened windows reflected his pale skin and dark irises, and oh, you closed your eyes as you exhaled shakily.

"please . . . please strip me. fuck me. i made myself clear too, no? i want you, your touch, your lips all over me. hah . . . you are no saint, you are the devil. stop fucking with these morals and just fuck me fyodor!" you beg, voice proving your desperation and neediness to have the russian all over you, to make your dreams which you hide in the darkest depths of your heart a reality.

fyodor began to rub his thumb over your wet core, rubbing against the sensitive bud with nothing but your panties to restrict the pleasure he created.

and is he really the god of your heart if he doesn't listen to your prayers?

"then let me show you just how much i desire you and once i am done, you'll be chanting my name like a prayer and when i repeat this all tomorrow? oh doll," fyodor coos the last part, biting his lip as he chuckled, "my dolly, my sweet sweet dolly, you won't even know if you are on earth or in heaven."

fyodor didn't hear your reply, immediately moving down to bite on your collarbone which he was only ever able to brush his fingers against for the past few months when he realised that maybe he wants to keep you by his side for as long as he can and could for fyodor doesn't think he has feelings for you as strong as to call them love.

fyodor sucked on your collarbone, licking it after before he looked up at you again, overcoming by the sudden urge to look at your face and the sight of your parted lips and barely opened eyes upon receiving such a small portion of pleasure made you look pure in fyodor's eyes, not to mention the moonlight falling on half of your body had only made you look more ethereal.

the nightgown straps barely on your elbows anymore as they revealed the upper portion of your cleavage and fyodor immediately knew that he had to free you from the fabric which is an obstacle for his hands from exploring your curves and body.

fyodor leans up on his arm, using the other to hook his index finger on your strap, pulling it down your arm, you raised your arm to help him slip the strap out with ease and once fyodor slipped both the straps off, he ripped the nightgown apart with his hand, immediately clinging his lips onto your naked breasts.

it started off as a single lick against your nipple before he went back to swirl his tongue against it, flickering it with his tongue.

then the sensation increased as his fingers trailed up your thighs and slipped into the nightgown, continuing their path up your other breast as he grazed the nipple with his nail before flickering it with his finger.

soon his index and middle finger squeezed the nipple between them, pulling on it as it made you hiss and fyodor smirked against your breast.

fyodor found pleasure in hearing your short breaths and gasps of pleasure and he would've loved to go and tease you for hours, manipulating you into thinking he is finally giving in to touch you, only for him to prove you wrong . . . only if it weren't for his painfully hard boner.

fyodor clicked his tongue before he grabbed your hips with both of his hands and rolled over with you on top of him once again as he looked up at you with that devilish smirk on his face, minute sweatbeads were beginning to form on his forehead and if you squint enough, you could see him gulping.

"be my good doll and ride me and tell me all your complaints. sweet doll, i will listen to every complain of your's today" fyodor tells you, hands slowly removing your panties as you lift yourself up to help him, he throws it away, not bothering to remove his sweatpants or anything as he immediately guides you to sit on his crotch, moving your hips to create some friction to ease his painfully hard erection, silently gasping as you slick wets his fabric.

fyodor smirks as his eyes remain closed, teasing you, "go on sweet doll, begin complaining to your daddy."

and when you nod, your head tilted back as you close your eyes and begin to move back and forth on his clothed boner, fyodor's eyes couldn't tear away from you ; your nightgown which was now rolled down and ripped to reveal your clevage, the slight pink mark appearing on your collar bone and your hair which fell infront of your face -- fyodor sucked in a breath.

his cold hands came to restrict your hips as he tapped once, you got the signal and you lifted yourself up slightly and watch fyodor skillfully remove his sweatpants and briefs with one hand, stroking his hardened and aggressive cock a few times before he rubbed the tip against your folds to get your slick on the tip, rubbing the length against your inner thighs which had slick dripping down.

"sit." he commanded a bit too softly to match the fire of lust blazing in his purple irises and if you paid enough attention to look past the pleasure and pain of sinking down on his cock, you could've seen the way his irises were dilated and reflected your image in them then you could've understood how deeply and intensely fyodor always stares at you.

a pained whimper left your lips as you settle down on his cock, feeling it strech your walls for the very first time. your fingers can't even fathom the sensation of his cock and now that you finally have it inside you, you know no one else, not even your own fingers or the finest toys out there, could satisfy you the way he is going to for the reason is simple, the same way the heart has no use if there is no blood left for it to pump, there is no libido in you if there is no fyodor.

for the sight of the man makes your brain fall into the lap of arousal and submit yourself to it, to fyodor.

"i am your doll? then why don't you cherish me and love me? why do you act as if we are just two partners in a deal? i am not one of your business partners, don't treat me professionally like you treat them" you grit your teeth, trying to get used to the pain.

you move up when you feel the pain become a bit bearable, going down on his cock as a choked breath leaves you and fyodor's eyes widen ; you move up and down his cock again, biting your lip in pain but the face you make as you are in pain yet try to give pleasure to him -- oh what a sight.

"you claim to love me? dumb man --" you let out a gasp, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as he sucked in a breath, "you are so smart yet how can you be so oblivious that your coldness makes me think you don't even like me?"

and suddenly, fyodor is hyper aware of his surroundings of how the bedsheet moves with your movements, the wet squelch as his cock enters and leaves your hole and your and his grunts and pants filling the entire room.

the hair falling on your face sticked to your forehead as you begin to move more on his cock.

fyodor parts his lips, your furrowed eyebrows relaxes as you let out a breath of relief, feeling the pain slowly turning into pleasure and fyodor did not stop himself or try to fool himself into believing he is superior when he leaned forwards, elbow propping against the bed as he brought his other hand towards your face and gently tucked the hair strands sticking to your forehead away, staring at you with a fond smile and suddenly everything makes sense, the sudden urge to touch you since the past few months, to whisper into your ears and watch you get shy and to give you whatever you desire, it all makes sense to him now for no one understood human emotions better then fyodor but to feel them, that's a different thing and he finally did.

"touch me, kiss me, caress me and let me do the same to you, you don't know, no one else can compare to you, you've me wrapped around your preety fingers. and it angers me to think someone else will claim you as her's one day. it isn't fair! you are mine, you should be mine, i don't want anyone else to have you except me. you are the type i want to marr--"

"i love you, my dumb doll." fyodor intrupted you as he breaths out, hand coming down to gently squeeze your nape, the sudden desire he felt is something he won't deny anymore as he pushes your nape forwards to once again have your lips against his.

your eyes widened, you've known fyodor enough to know words of affections are foreign to him so to hear him speak the purest words of intimation?

oh how your heart surrendered to him once more, how it bowed to him and was ready to bend to his will.

"i. love. you." with each word he spoke against your lips, he thrusted his hips upwards and relished as you moaned.

"i. love. you." he once again emphasized to let you hear him loud and clear, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling back and grabbing your chin with his index finger and thumb.

"you hear me? are my words reaching your ears, my doll? i love you." fyodor gritted his teeth, looking at your widened eyes and parted lips and how he resisted the urge to utterly ruin you and have you cry out his name as he saw how tears glistened and flowed down your cheeks.

"go on, confess the feelings you've always bottled up, my baby doll. and don't you dare stop no matter what, speak. tell your daddy how much you love him." fyodor commands, pinching your chin as he smiled seductively, pulling your chin closer to plant a small kiss on the corner of your lips, before he moved towards your lips to nibble on your upper lip.

fyodor pulled back and his purple eyes shined devilishly as he pulled on your nipple. "move your body and your lips, my doll. daddy is all your's. wanna wife you before the sun rises tomorrow yet i can't do that without knowing if you feel the same, can i? open that mouth and complain, after all, when have i ever denied you desires and wishes?"

━━━━━━━ 💋 end.

#bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor smut #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfic #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x female reader

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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years

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Hello! I saw you opened requests... May I ask for a female character x Tommy Shelby?

Here's the plot: the protagonist wants to kill him cause he's responsible of her brother's death. She knows he's vulnerable due to Grace's death and she gets close to him taking advantage on his need to have someone beside. A night of love is the perfect moment in which she can carry out her plan, having him alone, disarmed and off guard.. (So NSFW is perfectly ok 😝)

Whether she ends up killing him or not is up to you 🍷 surprise me ✨

I'd just like to have the female protagonist on the "dominant" part. Like... In the show Tom is always the one who wants everything under his supreme control and many fics depict him as such ... Well, he gives me totally opposite vibes, if you know what I mean 😂

That's all ✨ I'm looking forward to reading this! ❤

This was a super fun request!!!! I hope I got what you mean..... I tried really hard. Honestly kind of a slut for sub Tommy. Never thought about it before- but - I might be in love.

Any way because I'm such a softy I made two ending options.... I'll let you all decide which one I was more into ;)

Warnings: dealing with loss, murder, gang type stuff, seduction with bad intentions, sex, oral sex fem receiving, orgasms, kinda kinky, hopefully hot

Eventually the moment he was dreading was clear in view. The large house came into sight making his stomach turn violently. As if sensing it Charlie started to kick up a fuss. His little cries for his mother doing nothing to settle the pain in his chest.

Grace was dead. This house was horrible. Charlie seemed to loudly agree in his own way. So why did he come back?

Appearances mostly. He needed to get his feet back on the ground and settle the situation. The Russians had a tight rope around his neck, if only they would pull a little tighter. The Italians were waiting in the shadows like hungry wolves.

Charlie’s pudgy little hand tugged on the white collar of his shirt making him hate himself for thinking such things.

He got Charlie settled back into the house, envious of the sleeping child next to him. He had no idea when the next time he would be able to rest.

There was a lot of work to be done.

______

Readers POV

Growing up in a mob family was not what most people expected. Your brothers carried an unhealthy amount of pressure, while you were completely ignored.

The Shelby - Italian feud had carefully made its way to your family. Your youngest brother was to prove himself to the family & organization by killing the ever annoying Thomas Shelby. Not a simple task by any means.

You wished it was you that pulled the trigger, you wouldn't have missed. The aftermath of Grace Shelby’s body crumpling to the floor left you with two dead brothers, and an engagement to a man you hated. They fought hard to get out but it was no use. He went for a grand shooting in the middle of the room, your other brother's attempt to get him out was useless. Your stomach twisted as you knew taking a shot like that was a suicide attempt… Maybe this was his way out of the family business. Tears stung your eyes and you shook your head, surely he wouldn't have left the consequences on his siblings?

You felt trapped by this grief, maddened by it. The way everyone reacted, especially your father, started a mass unraveling of your whole life. You became buried under harsh realizations and questions on how you were raised. Everything started to evaporate once they were dead, leaving you with a drive to fix the unfixable. You knew that there was no way out of your life's path, yet your mind was determined, spinning in blood lust.

You laid in bed as the cool summer air caressed your skin. Mind engulfed by every bit of information you had collected about what had happened. The cocky smiles of their faces the last time you saw them slowly fading, replaced by the heavier, more traumatizing memory of their broken bodies being returned to your family.

The rest of the crime families your father associated with thought it pathetic, and embarrassing. Out of shame or fear from the Shelby family, people started to try and back away from your father. This meant you were requested to marry into the Changretta family. You were given the task to clear the family name, strengthen bonds, bring the business back, all well someone else got to destroy Thomas Shelby….

A plan had started to form in the absence of sleep. They were your brothers, it was your family given the task, naturally it should be you to complete the task. If you could kill Thomas your family's reputation would be restored earning you enough praise to slip out of the unwanted marriage. Not to mention they would surely benefit from the division of the Shelby estate.

You drape yourself in black fabric and sit in church everyday. Asking for forgiveness, asking for a direction forward. More than revenge, you wanted a way to escape all this life. Killing Thomas just seemed like the best way forward. Looking at the statue of Mother Mary in front of you, her eyes filled with something you’d never felt. You wanted her to tell you what to do.

No clouds in the sky broke, sending a beam of light into the room. No one descended from the sky. No messages fluttering from the grand ceiling.

Instead a group of girls sat in the back of the church attempting to speak in hushed whispers. You were annoyed at first, until you recognised one of the voices to be Ruth Berryman, a known friend of Ada Shelby. You listened as she described the family's peculiar way of grieving the loss of Grace. How Thomas had disappeared and would be returning to the public eye in a charity event hosted at his house. She went on to speculate that he’d hidden himself away to drown in women and opium.

You didn't have any opium, but you were remarkably pretty when you wanted to be… All you needed to do was dress up and sneak in, then get Thomas alone.

A silence fell over the space as Elizabeth Gray made an entrance. You pulled your scarf around your head a little tighter as you watched her slender frame fall into a seat. She looked exhausted, you felt a strange sense of sadness for her. The image of your brothers flashing in your mind pushed that feeling down until it was unreachable.

___________________

Your parents were more distant than ever, no one noticed you plotting away in your bedroom. As long as you were on top of your wedding planning no one paid you any notice. The loneliness started to seep into your bones again, making you feel weighed down. You poured another cup of coffee trying to shake the feeling off. Everyone would see you clearly once this was over…

The night of the event had come around. You had an entrance secured and a clear exit plan.

You looked over your body in the gold framed mirror. The fabric rested heavily on your curves. You would never normally wear anything like this, and you couldn't escape the powerful feeling it gave you. Your body was displayed in a way that was elegant while also being undeniably sexy. You pinned your dark hair up and did your make up.

You’d never seduced anyone before but looking over your final look you felt it shouldn't be too hard.

You pulled up to the large house, leaving your car down by the road. You were late enough that no cars were pulling up the drive to notice your descent on the house. Your long black wool coat covered you from chin to ankle, making you look a part of the woven night.

You made your entrance under a fake name and joined the mess without anyone thinking twice about you.

_________________________

Tommy POV

He wished that this event had been unnecessary. The effort it took to stand about moving from conversation to conversation was almost unbearable. His bones were on fire, head pounding, all he could do was pour more whiskey and hoped it would take the edge off. The night dragged on, until a woman caught his eye.

She was tall, wrapped in a tight red dress, and had a look in her eye. The room seemed to be swallowed by her presence, the light bending to wrap around her. Her dark eyes held a gaze that made it hard to breathe. She walked over to him like this was her house, tall and proud, despite not being invited.

“Mr. Shelby.” Her voice floated around him like smoke. She looked content as he held the silence between them, searching her eyes for what secrets they were holding.

“I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“Y/N L/N” She held her hand out to him. He knew she was lying but he couldn't help but the wave of desire that crashed over him and holding her slender fingers in his hand.

They chatted for a while, no mention of Grace, or work. He met everyone of her lies and questions with honesty. He watched as his answers spun around in her eyes, she seemed conflicted, but not surprised. He wanted to impress her, but she was unmovable, like stone. She conducted the conversation, and decided which of his answers she wanted to elaborate on.

Things started to wind down, and he regretfully had to remove himself from her presence to wrap the evening up. She showed no interest in leaving, pouring herself another glass of whiskey.

Polly set in on him about how stupid this was, but he shrugged it off. He knew that there was something this woman wanted to say to him, he was determined to figure it out. Everything about her was weighted heavily with significance. She was here for a reason, maybe because of the Russians, maybe the Italians, but he felt it was something above business. She had nothing vicious in her eyes, there was something she wanted desperately, but it wasn't violence.

___________________________

Readers POV

Thomas Shelby was an interesting man. He didn't try to step on your toes, he let you lead the conversation. Never mocking, always hanging on your words. His answers were not what you expected. He wasn't what you expected. Every time you touched him you felt something bigger than grief for the first time in so long.

Eventually he took you into his study to wait while he wished his guests well. You listened as his family loudly made their way upstairs. Stumbling and laughing on the stairs. Elizabeth Gray’s voice carried into the office as she laughed and poked fun at another Shelby woman.

You thought about snooping around his desk but you were stopped by the picture of a woman staring back at you.

His wife's eyes found the words in the back of your head and twisted them painfully. She was dead, and the sadness in him was still very visible to someone who was grieving just the same. Dead at the hands of your brother. He flashed before you and you started to feel sick.

It was either this or be married. Unfortunately your mind was already set.

Thomas entered the room slowly, his eyes dragging over your lounging body. The couch was comfortable and the fire light only made everything seem more warm and intimate.

“Sit with me?” It was meant to be a question but it came out more like an order. He looked at you for a moment before sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel the cold air still attached to his suit jacket.

You didn’t want to talk anymore. It would only make this harder for you in the long run. You needed to get him out of his jacket, make sure he didn't have any weapons still on him.

You raised your hand to brush your fingertips along the short hair on the side of his head. He closed his eyes, and leaned into your touch, your heart gave a twinge as the fire light only made him look more tired.

You were going to fuck up if you kept this up. You dragged your hand down and tugged on his jacket, he wordlessly removed it.

“And the vest” You whispered, there was something in his eyes that made you hate yourself. A wetness started to pool between your legs, even your own body was betraying you.

You pulled your skirt up your thighs and moved to straddle his lap. His hands went to your hips to help settle you into place. You felt the power of sitting here on his lap, his eyes heavy as he looked at you.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You asked in a smoky tone. His eyes flashed in a way that made you feel like gravity had increased. You were falling into him more and more.

“Yes” His tone was breathy and you wished things were different as you studied him. He was so willing to let you take charge. You liked being seen.

He waited patiently for your mouth to reach his, he let your lips take charge, and you deepened the kiss slowly. He was breathless, cheeks flushed, his hands were digging into your hips painfully. You loved the way he clung to your body, how badly he needed you to take his pain away.

Your hand wrapped around the side of his neck causing him to moan. You pushed his head back to rest on the top of the couch exposing the length of his pale throat. You went in for a deeper kiss, holding his neck firmly in place you—----

Option one:

Take your other hand up to your chest and pull the small knife from between your breasts. Quickly you drag it across the skin of his neck. He gasped into your mouth as the blood started to rush down his body. You looked into his eyes and admired the love you felt.

“Thank you” He whispered softly. You held his body while he left this earth for something better. He slipped away so peacefully you knew that it must have been more of a favor to him than anything.

The house was quiet and you made your way to the window behind the desk and slipped away into the night peacefully. Things went back to usual in your family so you decided it was in your best interest to move on. The war got worse, Tommy's brothers took over and his Aunt was determined to destroy your family. You had the money, so you ran away, unnoticed, placing as much distance between you and Birmingham as possible.

Option Two:

You stopped suddenly. Looking over his face.

“Tell me what it is.” He whispered, pupils blown out. You knew that it would be suicide to tell him the truth. Death seemed like a friend you would greet with open arms. Your vision was filled with the photo on his desk, his wife. His dead wife. The smaller photos of a little boy. Eyes bright, motherless. You pressed your head against his and took a shaky breath.

“My brother - I - I came here to kill you.” You watched how his face didn't change. Stayed just as relaxed and calm.

“What have you decided then?” He asked like he was asking if it was raining. You knew a part of him wishes you would go through with it, just like there was a part of you that would be more than happy to die at his hand.

“I can’t do it.” You said feeling a weight lift off of you.

“Why not?” His eyes were back in focus now searching you.

“You feel different -” You couldn't explain it. He was different and it was intoxicating. “And you have a kid upstairs.” You shook your head. You would either die right here, or you would go home to die everyday beside your husband. Either way you’d finally made your choice.

His big hands ran along your body and you could see him weighing his options carefully.

“Be a shame if either of us died without fucking first eh?”

You nodded at his crude words and your mouths met again instantly.

You both fought for control at first, ripping each other's clothes off, hands groping frantically. You ended up falling off the couch landing flat on your back. The texture of the carpet was surprisingly soft and the heat from the fire kept you comfortable. He parted your legs, leaning down towards you. You gripped a handful of the longer hair at the top of his head and used all your strength to push his head where you wanted it. He let out a deep moan as you pressed his face into your hot flesh. He submitted entirely and ate you out like he was starved. Tongue caressing you coupled with the sharp suction created by his mouth had you writhing.

“Ah yes. So good. Fuck -Tom” Your words came spiraling out of you as he worked you over. His eyes flashed up at you with a different kind of need. He wanted to make you happy, he wanted to know it made you happy.

You were getting close, but you wanted to cum around him. You pushed his face off and he got up on his knees, heavy cock standing proudly. You wrapped your slender finger around him, the walls off your pussy fluttering at the size of him. God he was going to destroy you. You could see he was about to lose his patience with your hand, you were naked and strung out. It was his time to take charge.

“Are you ready?” You asked him, tightening your grip on him, you wanted to push him further.

“Yes” He moved toward you but you only squeezed him further causing him to moan.

“See if I’m ready” You whispered into his ear like it was a dirty secret. You felt his fingers push into you slowly and his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. You let out a moan when his fingers rubbed against the spot you needed him the most.

“Feels so good, so good at stretching me open” You whisper, feeling his jaw clench against your neck. You wanted to see his face but wouldn't push him. You had no idea what you were doing or why it felt this good.

“Feel how wet you made me?” He let out a deep groan and you felt his cock twitch in your hand.

“You think I'm wet enough?”

“Yes” He answered out of breath.

“Are you sure? You're so big”

“Fuck - Yes” He was so far gone and you’d barley touched him. You were fairly confident that you could make him cum just like this, and it would still be the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

“You want to fuck me now?” You pulled his cock against your wet folds causing him to make a small strangled noise.

You took that as the answer it was, lining the head of his cock up with your wet entrance you guided his hips forward. You expected him to take over, rip through you to find his release, take his revenge. Instead he followed the wordless directions of the hand you had placed on his hip. This time it was your turn to groan. He stretched you out so slowly, soon you were at your limit. Taking all of him was a beautiful and painful task. Guiding him to pull out and slowly move back in pleasure won over the pain and your hips moved to meet his shallow thrust.

“God, you fill me so well” You felt his body melt under the praise. You guided his hips in and out of you slowly feeling yourself slip away. The pace got quicker gradually and eventually he was fucking you with a stregth that ruined you for anyone else.

There was only so much you could take before you demanded he touch you. His thumb circled your clit, his body pushing you somewhere it hadn't been before.

“Please, dont stop - Tom - Ah - youre going to make me cum - fuck baby make me cum” Words spiraled out of your moth and he drank each one of them down. Fucking you harder, he took you over the edge, your body swallowing him. Walls rhythmically contracting pull him over the edge spilling inside you. He rode both of the orgasms out before collapsing on you. Your arms held him tightly, not wanting him or the feeling inside you to go.

He broke your hold and held himself above you. His hand came up to caress the side of your neck and you took one last look of his blue eyes before closing your own. You tilted your chin up exposing his neck. You waited for his other hand to embrace your neck, for him to take your life.

“Promise you won’t bring harm to me or my family.”

Your eyes flew open and met his gaze. “I promise” He gave you a nod then pulled out of you slowly. His mouth moved to suck a deep mark into your throat before he pushed himself back inside you. After pulling another orgasm from you he cleaned the both of you up.

“What are your plans for next friday?” He asked as you both sat on the floor in front of the couch. You were sipping whiskey and smoking cigarettes unsure of what to make of the situation that just happened.

“I’m supposed to be getting married.”

“For business or love?”

“Business, my brothers couldn't kill you and that led to a lot of problems.”

His face twisted briefly remembering the problems it caused him as well. He was quiet and you felt yourself yearning to apologize.

“We both lost a lot because of this. I don't even know who started all of it but I’d like to end it. Leave all of it, everyone and thing behind if I could” He studied you carefully before lighting another cigarette.

“How bout I make a counter offer then?” His words hit you like a truck. Surely he couldn't be serious.

“I’ll marry you. Take the territory that would have been handed down to your brothers. In return you can do what you like within reason and the fighting stops.”

You thought about it for a long moment. You thought about all the plans everyone was making, how much destruction was about to move into action.

“Can I do what I like to you?”You asked in a cheeky tone, desperate to stop thinking about everything. You watched his gaze get hungry.

“Most certainly”

“I won't share you. With anyone, ever” The words were out of your mouth before you realized what you said. He may not love you, this may be for business, but the thought of someone else touching him and having him like that caused your blood to boil.

“Somehow I don't think that will be a problem” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a ghostly smile.

You clink your glasses together and fell back into a comfortable silence, your head resting on his shoulder.

___

They did get married, it was a business deal that ended the feuding. (Saving John)

She freaks out about how to look after Charlie because her parents were so distant towards her growing up that she has no idea what to do. Polly and her bond over this. Charlie almost immediately gets attached to her. Eventually she proves herself to the rest of the family.

She takes good care of Tommy, giving him someone to trust. But she's very opinionated and they fight a lot. Its explosive and usually ends with them fucking against any surface. She just wants the family to be protected and doesn't like taking big risks. So they balance each other out a little. Tommy’s calm and she’s so tired of being calm that the first chance she gets to lay into someone she takes it.

The first time she had to kill someone it was to protect Charlie. She broke down after the situation because she almost did that to Tommy. Everything she had now - a family that loved her and respected her, a husband that paid attention / was kind to her, a little boy that called her mum and ran to her every time he was scared - She got all of that from Tommy - He has to hold her for hours before she calms down. That's when they realize that they really love each other.

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