#bill skarsgard request

[crowsofdarkness]

First Kiss with Boy: Request

-gif not mine. credit to owners-

Pairings: Boy(Boy Kills World) x Reader

Content Warnings: just pure fluff, soft!Boy, shy!reader, brief mention of The Culling.

Summary: First kiss with Boy, who frequents your flower stand in the market every day.

Authors Note: This was a request. You can find the original ask here.

The market was busy today which meant great business for me, people wanting to buy whatever bouquets of flowers I threw together for this week. It was a warm and sunny day, the bottom of my dress blowing in the wind and I gave a small smile of thanks to the person who bought some flowers. I took in a breath at the few moments of silence and tidied up the table. Even though everyone knew that The Culling was days away, we didn’t let it bother us. We continued to live our lives the best way we knew how. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a cart being pushed into the market, led by a smaller man that peered out from his hood. 

The Shaman. 

Not many people knew of him, I only did because of the man that had lived with him. 

If the Shaman was here that meant so was Boy. 

My heart began to beat wildly in my chest as my eyes took in the sight of Boy who put the cart to a stop.. I watched as he looked around the market square, his own hood pulled over his head. Then suddenly as our eyes met, it felt like everything around me slipped beneath my feet. My breath caught in my throat and now I was sure my heart would burst out of my damn chest especially when the corner of his lips turned up in a smile. 

It was always like this. For the first few times he started coming to the market while I had my flower table here, we both would watch each other out of the corner of our eyes, looking away quickly when the other caught on. Until one day, Boy didn’t look away, instead walked up to my table to which I gave him a free stem of a flower. I waited for him to say a thank you or tell me his actual name since everyone said he just went by Boy. But he handed me a note instead. 

I’m mute and deaf.

At first my heart sank knowing he wasn’t able to communicate until he signed thank you. I was ecstatic because I also knew sign language. It had been like this for the last couple of weeks and I couldn’t take it anymore. The flirtatious banter, the sly smiles and winks. Whatever was between us had blossomed like the flowers I sold. 

Fingers waved in front of my face, breaking me from my trance, and I smiled up at Boy. 

“Hi,” I said. 

He could read my lips really well so while I spoke, he signed his responses back. 

“Hi. Yellow is your color,” his fingers signed. 

A blush crept to my cheeks as I cast my eyes down to my yellow dress. “Thank you.” 

Like he did every time, Boy asked for the bouquet of the day and I handed one to him. My fingers brushed along the soft skin of his hand, a shock spriting throughout my body. I knew Boy felt it as well because a muscle in his jaw ticked. I glanced up at him, marveling at how gorgeous his eyes looked under the contrast of his hood, blonde hair sticking out. Specks of dirt covered his face in spots and a bead of sweat traveled down the length of his adams apple and I wanted to lick it away. 

“Has it been busy today?” Boy signed. 

I shrugged. “For the most part. I’ll be out of here and back home soon. I’ve got plans with my couch and a bowl of popcorn.”

Something lit up in his eyes before he signed. “I haven’t had popcorn in forever.”

I pursed my lips while shifting on my feet. “Would you maybe want to join me? I’ve got plenty of popcorn to spare?” 

Almost immediately, Boy nodded with a wicked grin. “I would love to.”

My smile matched his. “Sweet. Can you meet me back here in a couple of hours? We can head back to my place together.”

He nodded and with a quick wave, he turned back around to walk away. I hesitated for a moment, wanting to call him back but knew he couldn’t hear me so I opted to maybe try later. 

As I began to clean up one section of my table, I noticed Boy turn on his heels to walk back. Before I could ask if he needed something else, his hand cupped my cheek. Those bright blue eyes darted from mine down to my lips; a question. With a quick nod, Boy’s soft lips covered mine tentatively at first. We both stood frozen, letting the new feeling capture both of us. Then, our lips moved in sync, almost as if we were made for each other. I let him take control, brushing his tongue along my bottom lip. I moaned into his mouth, Boy immediately swallowed it, and his large hands spread against my lower back to bring me closer to him. His scent engulfed me, wrapping tighter around us. He tasted sweet, like honey, and I devoured him. 

When we finally pulled away for air, I rested my forehead against his and Boy had an even brighter smile than before. 

“Can we please do more of that tonight?” I asked, breathless. 

Boy nodded wickedly before dipping his mouth to mine once again. 

[kingkat12]

Hiii !! I don’t know if you’re still doing Roman Godfrey imagines but if u are can u do Husband!Roman he just have gotten back from work after a hard day & u guys have a smoke session than things take a turn & u two have rough sex?? (U can do your things with the smut I can’t really think of anything 😂🫶🏽 but ty !!)

if i'm still doing Roman Godfrey imagines... IF I'M STILL DOING ROMAN GODFREY IMAGINES??? it's all i ever do, sweetheart🙈💜 i fucking loved writing this and i hope i've done your wish justice!! it took a different turn than expected, but this only means i might have to revisit this tihi... and it's the first bj i've ever written lol so hope it went well! ENJOY!!🌸

silk tie (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, bondage, oral sex (female receiving), blowjob, suit-fetish, smoking

summary: your husband has had quite the day... and now he's adamant about making it a little better

word count: 4,347

I hadn't noticed Roman was home before I walked past the balcony.

It was about three in the morning, which was an odd time for him to return from work. Or had he arrived back earlier?-- I had been asleep, so there was no way for me to know. I never waited up for him anymore, as he was usually either grumpy or completely exhausted. He wouldn't exactly take it out on me, but I was still unsure how to deal with his mood swings ever since his upir cravings got worse. 

Maybe our marriage wasn't perfect, but it had its moments. Moments such as these.

I watched as Roman leaned against the balcony railing, clearly deep in thought as he smoked a cigarette. He was still wearing his suit, not having bothered to get out of his work attire. On top of that, it was clear that he had been ripping at his hair because it looked like an absolute mess. With quiet steps, I joined his side, not saying a word. I could only look at him, revel in the upward curve of his nose, the pout of his lips, and the way he lazily balanced the cigarette between his fingers. 

"Hey, gorgeous," I said, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. "How are you?"

Roman hummed, exhaling a cloud of smoke through his nose. It was clear that his mind was elsewhere. "I've been here for fifteen minutes and this is my sixth cigarette. I think I'm slowly going insane,"

It wasn't unusual for Roman to get into these depressive ruts-- it would often happen when work got a little crazy and Pryce wouldn't get off his case. "You're not going insane," I stepped away from the balcony, wrapping my arms around my husband from behind. "You just need to get some sleep... Come to bed." My words were muffled against his broad back, pressing a kiss through his suit. 

Roman sighed, running his free hand over my fingers, feeling how small I was against him. "I already slept an hour in my office," 

Typical. "An hour isn't enough,"

"Well, I'm not sleepy anymore, and that's all that counts," Roman stumped the cigarette against the railing, another sigh escaping him. "But don't let me keep you up."

I nuzzled my face against his back, inhaling the scent of his cologne; I had missed him today. "I don't want to go back to bed without my husband," 

"It wouldn't be the first time,"

I rolled my eyes-- enough was enough. His self-deprecation could be downright annoying sometimes, mostly because he was more stubborn than a donkey. "Talk to me, Rome, what's on your mind?"

Roman gave in, turning to me. Like this, I could see the way the bags under his eyes had darkened since this morning and the way his eyelids were halfway drooped into a look of exhaustion. "It just... hit me today that all my ties are silk,"

"... What?"

"Silk," Roman echoed, and he had a hollow look about him as he wrapped his arms around me. He put his head on top of mine before burying his nose in my hair, inhaling sharply. "The devil wrapped in silk is still the devil."

It didn't take long for me to realize that he was talking about his urges again. "You're not the devil, Roman," I drew small circles on his back, hoping to soothe him. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had something to drink on top of this. "You're working through it and you're doing well. Do you not realize that?"

He hummed; "It's just not fair to you," Roman's hands went up in my hair, pulling me tighter against his chest. "I want to grow old with you, but sometimes I wonder whether it was a good decision to get married... Whether I shouldn't have been selfish enough to drag you down with me."

I put my hands against his chest, slowly pushing myself away. This was a different speech from his usual sad ones-- this was new. "... What are you saying?"

Exasperated, Roman groaned as he turned away from me, leaning over the railing once more. He dragged his hands through his hair, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "I don't-- I don't know, okay? I just want Pryce's treatments to work, to be rid of whatever the fuck I've become, and just... Fuck! I hear the beating of my heart all the time and it's driving me fucking crazy!" He drove his elbows down against the surface, covering his ears as though it would help. 

My body was begging for me to go back to sleep, but my heart was actively shattering at the sight of Roman so broken. I took slow steps towards him; with wary movements, my fingers dipped into the jacket of his suit, fishing out a pack of cigarettes. My other hand went into the front pocket of his trousers, fishing out his lighter. I wasn't the biggest endorser of smoking, but I knew exactly why Roman did it-- it slowed down his heart, making it easier to bear the constant sound of his blood pulsing through his veins. 

I put the cigarette between my lips, now feeling Roman's glossy eyes on me. Lighting it, taking a rather long drag myself, I made my way between his arms. I balanced the cigarette between my fingers, holding it up in front of his mouth, and it didn't take long before he accepted it, wrapping his plush lips around it with a satisfied sigh. 

Something about the look of relief on Roman's face gave my heart the ease it had needed all day. Knowing I could be the one to soothe him, to bring him down from his panic, assured me that we were good for each other after all. 

I reached out for his tie, feeling the silk between the pads of my fingers. "When you're not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives," My hands left his tie, now resting against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart against my palm. "You've cut your tongue so many times that when life hands you a flower, you can't quite make out what it is. It takes time, Roman. Marriage takes time."

The smoke from the cigarette wrapped around us like a warm duvet, the warm summer breeze blowing it away with soft strokes. A kind, subtle smile spread across Roman's lips, finding solace in my words. His free hand traveled down to rest against the small of my back, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss against my forehead. "Sometimes at work, I have thoughts of simply dissolving into you," he murmured, pulling away to take another drag before continuing. "It's unexplainable, but the thought is always there... and there's nothing I want more than that."

I let out the breath I had been holding, glad to see him calm again. "Are we talking sex?"

The laugh that followed made my heart sing; "You'd think so, but that's not how I meant it," Roman took a final drag, putting out the cigarette and tossing it away somewhere. "Although... I could mean it like that."

"Of course you could," I got up on my toes to give his neck a sweet kiss, knowing I couldn't reach up to his face. "But I think our first priority would be to get some sleep, and then we'll see what we can do in the morning if we have time." 

Roman bit his lower lip, suppressing a cheeky grin. His green eyes sparkled with the familiar look of want, and I immediately knew he was up to no good. "I have to disagree... I think the first priority would be to get you out of my shirt,"

My eyes widened-- I had forgotten that I was wearing it. In my defense, it was easier to fall asleep when he was away if I wore it. "What, you want it back or something?"

"No," Roman's voice dropped as his hands went down to grab at my waist. "Just want it off."

"It's three in the morning!--"

"And since when did we care about that?" He didn't even try to suppress his growing smirk anymore, and I watched his pupils dilate in real time as ideas soared through his dirty, dirty mind. It didn't take much time before Roman took my hand into his, bringing it up to his mouth to press a wet kiss against my knuckles. My breath hitched, having missed the sensation of his lips against my body. But suddenly, he lowered my hand and pressed it up against himself, leaving me breathless and in shock. 

Roman gave in to a laugh at the expression on my face, leaning down to press a kiss against the underside of my jaw. "Are you really going to deny me when I'm in a suit? That always works like a killer on you,"

And he was definitely right about that-- everything about him right now made me want to jump him. "Who said anything about denying you?" I mumbled, rubbing him through his trousers, my fingers feeling along each divot and ridge of his length. Swallowing hard, I realized I could feel him grow harder beneath my palm. "I just don't think we should be doing this on the balcony..."

Roman hummed, a low moan vibrating in his chest; "Yeah, good idea," I barely had time to register what was happening before his big arms wrapped around me, hoisting me over his shoulder as I yelped. It always surprised me that he could lift me as though I weighed nothing, and I laughed against his back as he made his way back into the house with a strong grip around me. 

"Rome, for fuck's sake!" I couldn't stop the trail of giggles escaping me, happy to see this side of my husband again. "You can't be serious-- Hey!" The squeak that escaped me was unlike anything I had heard coming from my mouth before, but how else was I to react as Roman struck his hand against my ass? Something about the sting was both painful and weirdly arousing-- I couldn't put my finger on it. Was this my lack of sleep talking?

Roman proceeded to chuckle, leading us into the bedroom. "Of course I'm serious," It didn't take long before he laid me down on the bed, crawling over to me like a predator. "I'm a serious man, you know me." 

"Yeah, right," 

As Roman made space for himself between my legs, I couldn't help but fling my arms around his neck to pull him close. I had waited for him to come home all evening to do just this-- the bliss that filled my body as our lips finally met was unmatched by any other heavenly feeling on earth. "I've wanted you all day," I purred against him, feeling the hardness of his cock twitching against me. 

"Don't say that shit," he whispered back, letting out a shaky breath as he raised himself up. "Makes me feel like I'm going to burst."

I bit down a giggle, my hands reaching for him once more. "Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long since last time!"

"... Three days?"

"Three days?!" I could barely believe it-- this was outrageous. Blinking rapidly, I watched as Roman's smirk reappeared, now leaning back down to capture my lips in a soft, passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me flush against him and the fabric of his suit. "Well, I've been busy... and you've been out a lot," he murmured against my lips, his hot breath against my mouth making me shiver. "It's almost as though I need to make sure you're always here waiting for me... Because there's no way in hell I'll let another three days pass before I fuck you again."

I wasn't quite sure what he was getting at, but I liked the sound of it. I liked everything about this actually-- his tongue against mine, my hands in his hair, the feeling of our hearts beating at each other through our chests. But suddenly, the weight of him disappeared off me, and before I knew it, Roman's green eyes practically pierced me as he knelt before me, my legs creasing at his thighs. 

I knew this look. This look of lust, love, and mischief; I couldn't take my eyes off of him. The way his chest heaved, the way he stared down at me through his brows, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk made my stomach flutter. 

It only dawned on me what Roman actually meant when his hands went up to his tie. Silk. My eyes widened; "Oh God, Rome--"

"Let's strike a deal," he purred, drawing the black tie through his fingers as he licked his lips. "Deal with the devil, if you like. Your little wish for mine."

I nearly shuddered, feeling my pulse quicken. "And what is it that I wish?"

Roman's chuckle was darker than expected. Something told me he had wanted to do this for a while. "I know you have an affinity for my suits, so I'll keep it on. And you... will stay still," 

Stay still? I could only squeal as Roman grabbed my hips, moving me further up the bed with ease. My breaths came out in short, ragged motions as he took my wrists into his big hand, tying them to the headboard with the other. The mix of the situation and my lack of sleep made me light-headed; "Rome," I mewled out against his chest, looking up to try to meet his eyes. I let out a quiet hiss as he tightened the tie around my wrists, watching as he made sure there wasn't much wiggle room.

This was something new. 

"Perfect," Roman said, mostly to himself, before taking my face into his hands to press a wet kiss against my lips. "Fuck, this is perfect... Let's just stay like this forever, hm?"

My heart fluttered, and I had to swallow rather hard as he made his way down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses along my body. It was hard to say no to a man towering well over six feet dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit. I squirmed against my restraints, my lashes fluttering as I remembered how sleepy I actually was-- but the tie was tied tightly around my wrists, and there was nowhere for me to go. "Since when do you have the energy to do this at three am?" I tried, hoping to stop my breath from hitching as his hands neared the hem of my shirt.

Roman took his time with giving me a response, his fingers now grazing my bare skin, leaving me shivering with anticipation. "You know you're talking about your husband, right?" he said, pushing my shirt further up as he spoke. "Were three days enough to make you forget that I always have energy for this?"

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman leaned down to lick a wet stripe up my stomach. I let out a broken moan, tugging at my restraints once more, squirming beneath him. "Rome, shit--" As he paired his licks up with kisses, I quickly felt my arousal pooling between my legs; there was no going back now.

We had never actually talked about tying me up like this, and I wasn't sure whether this was torturous or pleasurable. All I wanted was to reach down and run my fingers through his hair, tug him closer, feel him-- everything about the denial made me further desperate. 

Seeing as I was dressed for bed, I wasn't wearing a bra; something told me that my husband approved. It didn't take long before my shirt was at my arms, Roman's lips wrapped around an aching bud as he sucked at me. I could only write and moan, feeling completely breathless. "I can't-- Fuck, Roman," 

It felt as though the smell of cigarettes swallowed me whole, dragging me deep into the depths of my arousal. My hips bucked up against him, desperate for more, but all my attempts were shut down when Roman grabbed my hips and pinned me down to the bed. "Behave," he said, a low grunt following as his grip on me tightened. 

Hearing that word, I knew I was screwed. It suddenly became very, very apparent that Roman was in one of those moods-- this was usually the side of him that would come out when he felt like everything around him was spinning out of control, meaning he had to control the only thing he felt he could; me. 

And with me being tied up and all, I couldn't help but comply. 

"Sweetheart?" Roman shifted, making sure he had my attention before he sat up. Slowly, his hand inched down to his zipper, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips. "I've had such a tough day, and seeing you like this is really making it all feel better... But I wanna see how pretty you look with your lips around my cock."

The teasing tone in his low voice was enough to drive me crazy. Along with that, the proper look about him had me struggling to breathe. There was something tantalizing about the fact that America's youngest CEO was right here, married to me, wanting and needing me. So when Roman unzipped his trousers, leading his hard cock to my mouth, I gladly accepted it.

I slid just the tip of my tongue up the underside, so light he could barely feel it-- it was mostly just the sensation of my breath. Judging by the sound of Roman's breath hitching and the slight twitch of his cock, I knew I was on the right track. I gave the tip a gentle kiss before giggling to myself, not having to look up to know he was blushing. "For fuck's sake," he breathed, reaching down to grab a full fist of my hair, pulling me closer. 

This was his way of politely saying please.

So I gave in, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, sucking him in, and tasting the drop of pre-cum that immediately landed on my tongue. It was followed by a downright lewd moan from Roman, who loosened the grip on my hair before throwing his head back just a little. I couldn't help but glance up at him, so prim and proper in his suit, yet completely unraveled by the slightest touch. 

And since my hands were tied and I couldn't touch him, I reveled in the fact that I could taste him. Which is why, when Roman pulled out of my mouth with a rather wet pop, I pouted up at him as he made his way back down. But my pout quickly faded as my lips parted, my breath escaping me as he rubbed the tip of his cock over my chest. "You're too damn pretty," Roman said as he stroked himself at the sight of me. "Do you want my mouth on you before we go?"

"Yes, please," The ache between my legs almost burned-- there was nothing I wanted more in the world.

It didn't take long before Roman tucked himself back into his pants and moved down my body with eager kisses, and the anticipation nearly had me panting so hard that I was sure I might pass out. But the tension in my body quickly dissolved as Roman pulled my pyjama shorts aside, licking a wet stripe up my sex, which made my back arch off the bed. My hands strained against the tie, letting out a weak groan-- I was dying to bury my hands in his hair. 

"You're already so wet," Roman purred, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit. "Could've fucked you already." His fingers dug into my hips to hold me down, sucking me in as his lips covered my mound. It felt so intense, that I could barely hear my own thoughts; I heaved in sharp breaths of air, squeezing my eyes shut as I struggled against my restraints. It only got worse when Roman's tongue slid over my sopping entrance, entering me, fucking me-- I was sure I was dreaming.

It was too much. Especially when he cupped my breasts, pinching my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. I could only cry out, my fingers gripping harshly around the tie. My overstimulation washed over me like a wave, and I was sure it was due to my lack of sleep. "Roman, please, I can't... I want you in me-- A-Aah," I couldn't stop the way my hips bucked against him, nor the way my gaze darted down to watch his eyes falling shut as he savoured me, his thick, long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks.

Thankfully, my husband wasn't in the mood to keep me on the edge tonight. Roman got up, a knowing smirk spreading across his slicked lips. "I might have to tie you up like this more often," he said, palming himself through his suit. "This is quite the sight."

From his perspective, I could understand this-- it wasn't every day that he saw his wife splayed out like this, t-shirt draped just above her bare chest, and completely at his mercy. On the other hand, I was sure I had gotten just as good of a bargain. I had been begging Roman to fuck me in one of his suits, and here he was, finally complying. If this wasn't love, then I couldn't be sure. 

"Oh, you should see yourself," I purred, biting back a grin. "Mr. CEO... All mine."

Roman let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss against my lower abdomen as he pulled off my pyjama bottoms. "Always been yours,"

I could only sigh, feeling a surge of warmth coursing through my veins. At the end of the day, it was true-- Roman was mine, and I was his. Bonded together through our testimony, before the law, and before all things celestial. Everything about this would've been perfect if I wasn't bonded to the bed as well. My wrists were starting to ache, but I didn't have much time to think about that as I felt Roman entering me, a low grunt escaping him. I couldn't help but shudder, feeling the familiar stretch and fullness I had been craving for so long, and I struggled against my restraints as I cried out in pleasure.

Roman kept one hand planted on my hip, the other one gripping hard at my thigh. Seeing the expression on his face was nearly enough to make me moan-- Fuck, how I had missed this. The feeling of his cock inside me, the feeling of his hands on me, and being completely at his mercy. He had thankfully learned to be a little gentle with me at the start, and I felt his green eyes on me as I closed mine, lips parting at the sensation of feeling him thrust into me with slow strokes. Heaven, heaven-- it was impossible that such pleasure could be dealt by the hands of a devil. 

"Shit," Roman's hands gripped my waist, a need growing with each pump of his cock. He was so damn gorgeous, his sharp jawline twitching as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. It didn't take long before he grew impatient-- he shifted, the next snap of his hips digging his cock completely to the hilt in my warmth, a soft moan escaping him as my walls fluttered around his length.

My breath hitched, letting out a string of curse words. "Rome, please," The tie around my wrists was starting to drive me mad; "I want-- A-Ah, wanna touch you..."

I wasn't sure whether Roman was hearing me or not, his lips parting in pleasure. Eventually, he leaned forward, his mouth crashing onto mine, holding me close as I moaned against him between kisses. Now that he was even closer, I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and feel the fabric of his suit against my body, fulfilling my deepest fantasy. "Please," I breathed, my back arching as his cock brushed past my sweet spot. "Rome, please..."

I could feel him smirk against my mouth, and Roman pulled back to watch the absolute desperation swimming in my eyes. "What was that?" As he waited for my response, he pulled out until only the tip of him remained in me.

For fuck's sake-- "Please!" I cried, struggling against my restraints. "I can't... I can't--"

A sense of victory flashed through Roman's green eyes, traces of a darker satisfaction spreading across his lips as he thrust all the way back into me, watching me writhe and moan beneath him, fighting the urge to rip the tie to shreds to embrace him. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to clasp my wrists, smirking as his breath landed hot against my lips.

A moan mixed in with the sigh I let out, my hands immediately flying up into his hair as the tie was tossed away somewhere on the floor. Roman laughed against the kiss I dragged him into, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his lap, his cock still in me. "That was so much fun," he purred against my lips, grabbing my ass to drive me up and down along his slicked length. "We're doing that again."

"Fuck you," I pulled Roman tightly against my chest, feeling his arms snake themselves around me with the same intensity. It hit me how much I loved the feeling of him against me, how warm he was today, and how insanely hot he looked in that damn suit. Our lips came together in open, soft kisses, breathing against each other as our eyes locked, intense pleasure coursing through our bodies.

Roman was most certainly not the devil, and I could confidently conclude with that. However, I couldn't deny that he liked to play the most devilish games at the most inappropriate times-- but I had never loved my husband more than I did at this moment, right now. 

[chadleys]

gallons of the stuff. | roman godfrey

›› pairing: roman godfrey x f!reader

›› wordcount: 3.2k

›› genre: smut, established relationship

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: you've recently stopped taking your birth control. roman has a problem with that.

›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, oral sex, dirty talk, soft dom!roman, very explicit tampon scene, both characters are in high school but 18

›› misc: i haven't written in months, very out of practice. it's true - i'm back on my hemlock grove bullshit. if you're new here, we love bloodplay in this household. i wrote this in one sitting, and barely edited it. it's probably riddled with typos.

you had just gotten out of your last class for the day; you spied peter and roman talking near your locker. ❝ hi. ❞ you greeted peter with a wave, but roman you clung to and tried to grab a kiss on tip toes from.

roman, however, took a step back before you could make it. you tripped and almost landed right in front of him.

it was peter who stopped you from falling completely, as roman had moved back even further. he wasn't speaking, instead looking strangely at you, like you had grown a few extra heads in your couple hours apart.

❝ dude, what the hell? ❞ peter chastised his friend.

you stood there, hurt that your own boyfriend didn't want to kiss you, and when roman continued to just stare silently at you, you finally waved an impatient hand in front of his face. ❝ um, hello? ❞

❝ what happened? ❞ he asked quietly. ❝ what did you do? something's … different. ❞

you shrugged, looking to peter for help. he shrugged, too, looking between the two of you.

❝ i don't know, what could be different? i mean, what do you mean? ❞ roman wasn't making any sense.

roman's gaze flickered between you and peter, his mind racing as he seemingly tried to pinpoint what exactly felt off about you. was it your demeanor? your scent? it didn't seem he could put his finger on it, but something had definitely changed since he'd last seen you this morning.

❝ look, if you're not gonna answer me and just give me the silent treatment, i'll take myself home. ❞

❝ I'll give you a ride, ❞ peter offered, but roman chose that moment to reach out and grab your wrist, pulling you back to him.

❝ are you hurt? ❞ he finally asked. his eyes were moving a mile a minute over you, your face and body. ❝ you smell like … blood. ❞

you blushed from the tips of your toes all the way to your forehead. ❝ i mean, ❞ you said, speaking even more quietly than roman had, ❝ it is that time of the month … ❞

but roman had been around you countless times during your period. he liked it, as any vampire would, but he'd never acted this strange about it.

roman's expression softened slightly as he processed your words, but there was still a flicker of something else behind his eyes. ❝ I'm sorry, ❞ he murmured, his voice low. ❝ It's just different today. it's ... more. did something happen? ❞

❝ okay, i'm gonna take this as my cue to leave, ❞ peter said warily, backing away from the two of you.

as good of a friend as peter was, you hardly noticed him go. you were focused on roman, and moreso on his focus on you.

❝ roman, i'm sorry, i don't … know what could be different. ❞ maybe you were bleeding through your shorts? that would be embarrassing. but no, you had just checked in the bathroom mirror before last class. there was no way your flow had become so heavy within the last hour.

roman's intense gaze lingered on your face, his mind racing with possibilities. ❝ can we go home? i'm … it's dangerous for us to be here, together, right now. with you like that. ❞ he tugged at your hand, leading you to the front doors.

as you neared the school parking lot, you remembered something. about a month ago, just after your last period, you had made a change. something you'd been wanting to do for a while.

❝ roman. ❞ you stopped in your tracks, gazing at him. ❝ i remember … i had been wanting to for a while, just to see how i'd do without it, but … a little while back i stopped my birth control. ❞

roman's eyes widened, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily. ❝ you … stopped? ❞ he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. ❝ why … why would you … do that? ❞

❝ i - i thought it might be causing some of my weight gain, plus i was always fucking hungry. and my mood swings … i thought it would help, ❞ you answered meekly. roman was clearly upset about this.

❝ are you insane? ❞ roman hissed, stepping close to you so that no other passing students would hear. ❝ that's so fucking dangerous. you're gonna be bleeding so much more without it. do you really have that much faith in my self-control? ❞

❝ i didn't think … ❞ was all you said. of course you didn't, fucking idiot that you were. your boyfriend was upir, and here you were giving your body more of a reason to tempt his hunger.

roman sighed, his anger melting away into concern as he pulled you closer to him. ❝ we need to get you home, now. i'll … i'll take care of you. ❞ he guided you toward the car; it seemed his mind was already racing thinking about what he was going to do with you.

how he was possibly planning to ' take care ' of you was anyone's guess. he probably wanted to devour you right now …

on the ride home, you sat with your legs clamped together, as if that would help. roman drove with a hand over his mouth and nose, as if that would help.

❝ roman, i'm really sorry, ❞ you blurted. ❝ i didn't think about you, about how it would affect you, and i should have … ❞

roman's severe expression softened, and he reached over to take your hand in his own. ❝ it's okay, ❞ he reassured you gently. ❝ we'll figure it out. we just need to … be careful. ❞

he pulled into the driveway, escorting you gently inside with a hand at the small of your back. the two of you hurried up to roman's room.

you, however, were now afraid to even sit down anywhere. what if you bled through your tampon? bled on roman's sheets? that would really set him off.

so you stood awkwardly at roman's bedside table.

roman watched your discomfort with a mix of concern and frustration. ❝ baby, come here, ❞ he murmured, gesturing for you to sit on the edge of the bed. ❝ i promise, i won't let anything happen to you. just … relax. ❞

you took a seat, gingerly, making sure not to sit too close to him.

roman moved in closer, his gaze softening as he took your hand in his. ❝ i'm sorry if i scared you earlier, ❞ he said quietly. ❝ i just … worry about you. you know that. ❞ his thumb brushed soothingly over the back of your hand.

you nodded - roman typically treated you like you were some kind of treasure, one he had to make sure was safe, that he couldn't bear to lose. ❝ i know, and … i'm grateful. i promise i'll start taking it again and get back on my schedule tonight. ❞

roman kissed your knuckles, gazing up at you through his long lashes. he didn't say anything, and his expression was unreadable. slowly, his lips trailed back and forth over your knuckles. he seemed about to say something, but didn't. it seemed to you that his eyes had darkened.

you took over, flirting your fingers over roman's lips, loving how soft and perfect they were. ❝ roman? what're you thinking? ❞

roman's eyes darkened further as he gazed up at you, a flicker of desire dancing in their depths. ❝ just thinking … that it might be better if you stayed off of it. i mean … how selfish of me would it be to make you get back on, when you were having so many issues? ❞

his voice was quiet, but you heard a hint of something else. something dangerous.

your lips parted, and you slid your hand from his grasp, cradling his jaw. ❝ are you sure? i don't wanna make things awful for you or - ❞

roman's lips curved into a slow, sensual smile at your touch. ❝ darling, ❞ he murmured, his voice low and husky. ❝ you could never make things awful for me. ❞ his hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin softly. ❝ in fact, i think it might be rather … exciting. ❞

❝ exciting how? ❞ you squeezed your thighs together to try and quell your growing arousal. ❝ d - didn't you just say it'll be dangerous? ❞

roman's lips quirked into a mischievous grin. ❝ sure it will be, ❞ he purred, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. ❝ but, with you being off birth control, you're going to be bleeding a lot heavier. and with all that blood going south, you're gonna be so horny … why don't you let me help? ❞ as he spoke, his gaze darkened again, the hunger smoldering in his eyes now unmistakable.

an embarrassing little moan escaped you, and you shuffled closer to your boyfriend. ❝ i'm already horny for you, roman. it's not like i don't beg for your cock practically every chance i get … you really think it'll be worse now? ❞ it had been many years since you started birth control; you weren't sure what to expect being off of it.

roman's breath hitched at your words, his desire igniting like wildfire. ❝ oh, angel, ❞ he murmured, his voice rough with need. ❝ i think it'll be a whole lot worse. but don't worry, ❞ he added, one big hand sliding down to caress your thigh. ❝ i'll take care of you. i'll make sure you're properly satisfied. ❞ his gaze smoldered with primal hunger as he leaned in to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

those words - ' i'll take care of you ' … roman had spoken them to you many times before. they always had the desired effect; to make you spread your legs and ache for him to be between them, to be true to his word.

you did so now, leaning back as he kissed you, spreading your legs wide for him to settle between them. you were still worried about bleeding onto his expensive sheets, but knew roman would take care of it if you did.

roman groaned into the kiss as he settled between your legs, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground his growing erection against your core. ❝ god, baby, ❞ he muttered, his voice thick with desire. ❝ you smell so fucking good. i could smell it as soon as you got up this morning, but … i wasn't sure. i didn't know what it could be. ❞

he broke the kiss to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his tongue tracing teasing patterns over your skin. his hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing gently at your clit through the fabric of your shorts.

you let out a broken moan, clinging to his broad frame. ❝ i - it wasn't … i mean, it didn't properly start until after i got to school … ❞

your face was burning, and roman's insistent fingers pressing the rough cotton of your shorts down over your clit was making you see stars. ❝ r - roman … my clit … it's really sensitive … ❞

roman's lips curled into a wicked grin at your confession, his touch becoming more deliberate as he stroked your throbbing clit through the fabric of your shorts. ❝ sensitive, huh? ❞ he murmured, his voice husky with desire. ❝ i told you, all that blood down there … it's gonna make you crazy. i'll just have to be extra gentle with you, won't i? ❞ his fingers danced teasingly over your sensitive flesh, eliciting soft gasps and moans from your lips. ❝ but tell me, baby, ❞ he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. ❝ do you want me to be gentle? ❞

you loved when he was gentle with you. there was always a time and a place for a good, rough pounding, but you loved roman most when he made room for you, gave himself over to you completely and treated you like a princess.

you nodded with a soft pout. ❝ am i a total baby if i say yes … ? ❞

roman's lips curved into a tender smile as he brushed a strand of hair away from your flushed face. ❝ no, darling, ❞ he murmured, his voice laced with heavy affection. ❝ you're not a baby at all. you're my princess, and i'll treat you as such. ❞ his fingers continued their gentle ministrations, coaxing soft moans of pleasure from you. ❝ just relax, angel. let me take care of you. ❞

you held onto him, keeping him close as he touched you. the two of you kissed soft, deep, passionate kisses, and it wasn't long before roman was hooking his long fingers into the waist of your shorts, trying to drag them and your panties down at the same time.

❝ uh, roman. ❞ you grabbed his wrists, looking nervously at him. ❝ i still … have my tampon in. ❞

roman's eyes flickered with concern at your words, his fingers stilling in their attempt to pull down your shorts. ❝ mmm, ❞ he hummed, the timbre of his voice soft and soothing. ❝ you really think i care about that? ❞ he leaned back slightly, his gaze seeking yours. ❝ … can i take it out for you? ❞

it was so embarrassing, to have him asking you that right to your face. but you did, god you did. were you sick in the head?

you nodded, slowly, trembling hands half covering your face as roman stripped your shorts and underwear off.

roman's lips curved into a tender smile as he gently peeled off your shorts and underwear, exposing your naked bottom half to his hungry gaze. with delicate care, he reached between your thighs, his fingers deftly locating the string of your tampon.

❝ it's alright, baby, ❞ he murmured, his voice filled with reassurance. ❝ i've got you. ❞ one strong hand steadied itself on your belly as the other slid the tampon slowly out of you.

you moaned, against your will, as he took it and held it up. it was dripping, all over his bed.

❝ roman, stop! your bedding … ❞ you made to grab it, but roman held it just out of your reach.

❝ tsk, tsk, not yet. i still have business with this thing, ❞ he muttered with one of his signature cute, quirky smiles. you knew what he was going to do, but it still took you aback when he closed his pretty lips around it.

you sat and breathed heavily, watching as roman's cock twitched in his jeans the moment the tampon hit his tongue.

roman's eyes never left yours as he suckled your tampon, his tongue expertly lapping at the spongy material. he made soft, sensual noises of enjoyment as he savored the taste of your fluids, the scent of your arousal heady in the air.

you squirmed beneath him, unable to keep still as heat further pooled between your legs. you wanted him so badly, and the thought of him tasting you like this was driving you wild with desire.

as roman finished, he slowly withdrew the tampon from his mouth, a string of blood, saliva, and your juices connecting it to his lips before it snapped free. ❝ you taste divine, love, ❞ he murmured, his gaze smoldering with carnal desire. ❝ i'm sorry, i can't - ❞

with a feral growl, he dove down, pushing your legs back as he began to devour your bloody cunt.

the sight of roman between your legs, the lower half of his face all smeared with your blood and juices was enough to make you feel faint. ❝ oh god, roman … ❞ his bloodied nose nudged your clit and you sobbed, gripping the sheets.

roman was right - you were bleeding a lot more now that she were off the pill. you could feel it smeared along your inner thighs and dripping to the bed.

❝ touch me, ❞ roman murmured, as he added two long fingers into the mix. he slid them easily, hungrily, into your wetness. ❝ touch me - pull my hair, slap me, scratch my back, whatever you want. i'm yours. ❞

you could feel your wet, open, bloody pussy trying so hard to clamp down on his fingers. but everything down there was so wet and open, roman's fingers glided almost too easily in and out of you.

you did as you were told, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair.

roman groaned softly against you, his lips working fervently against your clit as he added a third finger to the mix, stretching you open even wider. he was relentless, his movements becoming more frenzied as he devoured you with unrestrained hunger.

your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp as you tugged him closer, urging him on with desperate need. your body was on fire, every nerve ending electrified by the exquisite pleasure coursing through your veins.

as your climax approached, roman's fingers quickened their pace, driving you ever closer to the edge of ecstasy. ❝ do you wanna cum like this? or d'you want something else? ❞

that third finger was exactly what you needed. you nodded, tugging and pulling harshly at roman's hair. as much as you loved his cock, you didn't want even a second break from this, for him to whip it out. and you knew roman would give it to you any way you wanted it. ❝ just like this … please, roman, make me cum … ❞

roman's lips curved into a wicked grin as he redoubled his efforts, his fingers working feverishly inside you while his tongue danced skillfully over your sensitive clit. your entire body tensed beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you teetered on the brink of release.

with a guttural groan, he applied just the right amount of pressure, his fingers curling inside of you as his lips closed around your swollen bud. he sucked and licked with abandon, driving you wild with pleasure until you'd had enough and shattered around him, your cries of ecstasy echoing in the air.

as your climax washed over you, roman didn't let up, continuing to lavish attention on your throbbing center, prolonging your pleasure until you were trembling with the intensity of your release. only then did he finally ease off, his lips trailing a path of fiery, bloody kisses up your trembling body.

you were still shaking as he reached your lips, a questioning look in his eye. you grabbed the back of his head and pulled him quickly down, kissing him deeply.

tasting your own blood was … odd. not unpleasant, but certainly not as pleasant as it had been to roman.

roman, who was panting, his mouth smeared with red, dripping onto you, your shoulders, your chest, the bed.

❝ we need a shower, ❞ you grunted, afraid to even close your legs with the slippery mess down there.

❝ i don't see what the problem is, ❞ roman laughed as he gave you another kiss.

[anastasiaskarsgard]

can you do a one shot where the Marquis likes to play piano but he’s always been a lil shy about it. One day while the reader roams the marquis’s estate, she catches him playing and quietly listens until he’s finished before applauding

ALMOST

Today had been one of the most frustrating days the Marquis had to endure, for as long as he could remember. As he swiftly made his way down the halls of his sprawling mansion, he tried to clear his mind of all thoughts, but for the first time, could not.

Considering his greatest strength was his perfect control over his thoughts and emotions, he was barely keeping himself together. Even though he had never had a panic attack, and until today, didn't even believe they were real, he knew without a doubt, he was on the verge of having one.

And that was unacceptable.

Slamming the doors to his music salon open, he didn't acknowledge the maids that practically ran out of the room, at the sight of their distressed master. All who worked in his home, knew to give the Marquis the room, if he is in a mood. He was known for being temperamental and cruel, and often preferred to be left alone. He was immune to female and male charms, and had no close attachments to anyone. As far as the staff was concerned, he was a soulless machine, but he paid better than any other house, as long as you minded your business.

The Marquis began to play the antique Grand piano at the center of the room. Worth more than most people would earn in an entire lifetime, it had a haunting quality to its sound that couldn't be found in the newer models. Losing himself in the music, he was able to temporarily forget what had been plaguing him most of the day. As the song came to an end, he felt calm once again until someone had the audacity to start clapping.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around and stood, prepared to tear into what ever soon to be ex employee lost their fucking mind. Instead, he was met with the reason for his loss of control he'd been suffering since he first laid eyes on her.

"what are you doing out of your quarters?" He snapped glaring down at the young woman he had been saddled with earlier today. She was the daughter of a new business associate that was off doing a job for the Marquis, and since he was new, the Marquis often held collateral in the form of people's loved ones to make sure the job got done.

Usually, he'd put them in a room and lock them in for the duration of their stay, but he at least made them comfortable. If wasnt like he put them in the dungeon, which he totally owned since his mansion was very old. The suites he used for their stay were luxurious and had various forms of entertainment to pass the time. His staff kept them fed and even fulfilled any requests they had, so they hardly could call themselves prisoners. But that's what they were in truth, and he'd never cared how they felt about fhat. They were not allowed to roam freely through his home, and hardly ever saw him beyond the initial introduction.

For whatever reason, when he was introduced to this young woman, he hadn't wanted her to be frightened. When she had asked if she was free to explore his estate, he'd given her permission to do so, to everyone present shock.

To his dismay, she had decided to spend the day following him around, asking about his extensive art collection, and making him feel like they'd known one another for years. Never had he been so comfortable in another person's company. For many years people had spread the rumor he was a real psychopath and he had always thought they were likely correct. He had always considered his lack of connection with others to be a positive attribute. In his line of work, attachments were weaknesses.

Deciding he was being far too familiar with her, he excused himself, and made a beeline for the security room, to see how everything was going.

Upon entering, he was informed that everythibg was going as planned, and all endeavors so far had proven successful. This was almost unheard of in his life, and his mind quickly returned to his guest. He couldn't help but wonder what she would do to amuse herself. There were many ways she could get herself in trouble, and as he sat there thinking about how stupid he'd been giving her free reign, he ordered the staff to locate her and then make themselves scarce.

After only a few moments, they found her, and immediately exited the room, leaving the Marquis to sit in front of the screens and observe her. He could see the confusion on their faces with his behavior but he couldn't care less. Their opinions hardly mattered to him.

She was currently in his equestrian facilities, outfitting one of his favorite Andalusian stallions for a ride. Watching how easily she made the normally high strung animal feel at ease was riveting. Although he was a gorgeous animal, hed always been stubborn and difficult with new people. Not so with this woman; you'd think she raised the damn horse the way he was cooperating.

When the traitorous beast actually lowered his head, to make it easier for her to put on his bridle, the Marquis scoffed aloud, and sprung from his chair. Leaving the room without thinking where he was going, he found himself exiting his mansion, walking towards the stables.

Just as he was almost inside, she rode out on a different horse than his favorite stallion. When she spotted him, her face lit up and she smiled one of her disarming smiles and made her way over to him.

"I'm so glad you're done! I asked the stable guy which horse was your favorite, and got him all ready for you to go riding together." She stated enthusiastically. "Do you need to change or can you ride in a suit?"

The Marquis just stared at the girl completely dumbfounded for a few moments. Had she honestly prepared his own horse, and decided that he was going to go riding with her? The absolute audacity of this woman! He didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.

Honestly, he had been wanting to ride as of late. He'd been neglecting his horses, and even though he employed a small army of people to take care of them, he felt a bit guilty when too much time passed between interactions. Because of his guilt, he would go ride with her, not because of her he justified to himself. "I have riding gear I can change into inside. Give me a couple minutes." He'd said before storming off.

He had planned on taking longer than necessary to get ready to make her wait, but decided that was childish. He refused to hurry though, making a point to keep a relaxed pace.

When he'd rejoined her, shed surprised him again, when she took off on her horse at a break neck pace. Chasing after her, he couldn't help but admire her form as she seemed to become at one with the animal. When they effortlessly cleared a fence, he had to veer off to the side, knowing full well his horse was not a fan of jumping.

He slowed his horse to a trot, and looked around at the beautiful scenery. Sometimes he got so absorbed into work, he forgot what a beautiful world he lived in. His work wasn't pretty, so he'd always tried to make up for it, by surrounding himself with as much beauty as possible.

As he came through the trees and found his companion barefoot and splashing around in the small lake he had created on a whim last summer, he couldn't help but smile at her antics. She was the most free spirited, uncomplicated being he'd ever come across. The way she displayed her emotions so freely, and genuinely seemed to enjoy life was intoxicating. Deep down, he knew he should turn around and never go near her again, but he almost didn't care.

Almost.

"come in the water, it's lovely." She shouted out to him "do you mind if I strip down to my underwear? It looks just like a bathing suit, I just don't want to offend you."

"Don't flatter yourself, you couldn't offend me if you tried. If you want to prance around in your underwear, I won't stand in your way." He said with an air of nonchalance, even though internally he was having a celebration.

"you're going to join me right? Do French men wear boxers or briefs?" She asked as she took her dress off and stood before him without a smidge of insecurity. "Unless you aren't allowed."

"why wouldn't I be allowed to swim in my own lake? That is a ridiculous notion." He scoffed, sliding off the horse and storming over to the frustrating woman. "Do you think so little of me, that I am not my own person? Do I seem weak to you?" He asked lowly as he glared down at her. He knew he was over reacting, but he didn't know what she meant and he hated being confused.

She looked so adorable peering up at him with her big doe eyes, as she chewed on her plump bottom lip. "I was just trying to be smooth, and find out if you had a wife or girlfriend or something." She said quietly. Her eyes lowered to her hands as she fidgeted. "you couldnt possibly be single. You're too perfect. Supermodels probably fight over you on the daily."

He smirked and gently lifted her chin to look in her eyes. "Maybe being perfect scares them all away." He gazed down at her thoughtfully, before coming to the conclusion she wasn't kidding. She actually thought he was perfect.

The idea that someone thought he was perfect and desired by hordes of women was extremely amusing. While it was true, some women had satisfied his natural male urges, he never laid with a woman more than one time.

Chuckling to himself, he took his clothing off and neatly placed it on a nearby bench. He knew he had a visually pleasing form, and stayed in top physical form for his own vanity and his career choices. He wore black boxer briefs, and ignored the way she was checking him out as he passed her and dove into the water.

She squealed and immediately followed, swimming gracefully beside him as he cut through the water. Coming to a stop, he turned to her and tried to ask her a question, but couldnt think of what to ask. Not one to ever be afraid to speak up or get answers, he tried to be logical and ask himself what was his issue. Did this slip of a woman make him nervous? Did he care what she thought of him? Or was he just having an off day, and she so happen to be here for it? Was he attracted to her sexually? Did he want to touch her, and in turn allow her to touch him? It wasn't like he was a virgin.

So caught up in his contemplations, he failed to notice, till it was too late, and he'd been plunged beneath the surface. Using her weight to dunk him, she had her hands on his shoulders as she pushed him down her body, underneath the surface. Continuing down by his own ministrations, she lost contact with him when he continued deeper than she was able to go. He opened his eyes underwater, and watched as her shadow rose up to the surface. Swimming swiftly behind her, he made sure to remain behind her where she could not see him. Sneaking up behind her, he grabbed her by the waist and took them both beneath the surface.

She was a very capable swimmer, and he enjoyed their rough housing. He could not recall the last time he had played with someone.

"what's in your hair?" She asked with a look of concern on her face. Reaching up, she ran her hands through his hair, before grabbing his face with both hands, and kissing him square on the lips. It was an aggressive move, but she still remained gentle somehow. Nothing else existed in that moment. He was left breathless when she pulled away, and then realization set in.

He liked her. He really liked her.

Without saying a single word, he swam to the shore, gotten dressed without even attempting to dry off, got on his horse and left her there. He knew he was being a coward, but he hadn't gotten so far in life by following his heart. He was strictly a brain user, and it was telling him to run.

So he had, all the way to the piano.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have kissed you. I read the situation completely wrong and it won't happen again." She stated earnestly.

Looking in her eyes, he could see she really believed she had made an error. He knew nothing good would come from getting involved with him, and she'd likely end up regretting ever meeting him. He was self aware enough to realize he was not a good person. Anyone that he got involved with would suffer in some way whether at the hands of his enemies, or from something he would do, or not do.

Pulling her close, he smirked before kissing her forehead. Placing his chin on her head, he chuckled at the two of them. "Sometimes the hardest thing, and the right thing, are the same."

"do you know the most sad word in the world?" She asked him.

Thinking through many words in several languages, he knew many sad words.

"almost." She sighed, snuggling closer in his arms. "He almost loved her. She almost was good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. They almost were happy. They almost made it."

She pulled herself free from his arms and turned for the door. "my father is here and said everything went well. I just wanted to come say goodbye and apologize." With those parting words, she was gone.

A few days later, when her father told her the Marquis had almost been able to kill the legendary John Wick, but had been killed in the end, she almost laughed out loud.

Almost.

[shamrock313]

What Bill S. is looking for in his next partner

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Please take everything you read with a grain of salt. Enjoy!

Their Interest: Empress + Knight of Pent (Up and Rev) = He wants someone grounded, nurturing, motherly (this will be good for the kids). Wants someone who is dedicated and committed, will take their time with him. At the same time he doesn't want to feel "stuck".

Think of it as a teacher. Someone who loves children, guides them, yet has a routine / schedule for the kids to follow. While a teacher can be hard on her students, she also knows when to be fun and let her guard down. That's what he's looking for.

Connection: Strength + Sun = Offering support and happiness through tough times. Always there for each other. A chance for personal growth.

Oracle: Unbreakable Love

Challenges: Knight of Swords + 4oW + 6oS + 5oC = Impulsive behavior. Jumping into action without thinking of the consequences. While 4oW is a happy card, in this section they may struggle with commitment, stability, and shared goals. (6oS) They will have trouble trying to let go or move on from arguments or past breakups. (5oC) Reflecting on the past, again trouble moving on, regrets on the choices they made.

Oracle: Boundaries + They Are The One = He or both need to set boundaries and make sure they're respecting each other. Potential to becoming romantic partners.

[cillivnz]

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮 𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 [𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭]

CHAPTER ONE —— AFTERMATH

warnings. angst, gore descriptions, torture, mentions of death, stabbing, shooting; basically your average 14 minutes into a john wick movie.

a/n. occasionally updating the preliminaries post of this series as deemed necessary. all warnings and details would be mentioned in that post. note, this is a slow burn (emphasis on slow). i hope you enjoy reading this short chapter, i promise it’ll get better. this one’s for the anon who wanted angst, i owe it all to you, honey. <3 pardon any inaccurate translations.

notes. Rehneyr Corsioni [OC] — ex-associate of reader’s father. Edgar Corsioni [OC] — Rehneyr’s son.

TRANSLATIONS. mon ange — my angel; tenez-moi — hold me; va te faire foutre — fuck you/fuck off; “Écoute, si tu parviens à répondre, tu seras libre de vivre ce qui reste de ta vie pathétique.” — Look, if you manage to answer, you will be free to live whatever is left of your pathetic life; “Sing, pute.” — Sing, bitch; “Je ne ferais jamais ça.” — I would never do that; “Laisse moi ici,” — Leave me here;

Clustering sounds beside you were your alarm. Your eyes fought to get adjusted to your dimly lit surroundings, in a panic, you shot up from the bed. Bed? You were uncertain of where you were, until you saw a tall figure hulking, with his back towards you. As if sensing your inquisitive eyes on him, he turned around, a solemn expression on his face, plump lips sealed tight, yet his gaze softened at the sight of you. “Good… morning.” He said shaking his head, it seemed like he wasn’t too fond of his words, considering the sun set a few hours ago. You took a moment to look down at yourself, wearing an oversized, white silk shirt, and your panties. “I took the liberty of cleaning you, I’m sorry, ange.” He was avoiding your gaze, looking at the foot of the bed. “It’s okay, Vince.” “I appreciate you.” Your voice was soft, just a whisper lingering in the breeze.

“You need to rest.” He spoke with an authoritative concern. “I can’t, I just woke up.” You let out something along the lines of a chuckle and a scoff. “Lie down.” He raised his brows, a pleading look on his handsome face. “Lie down with me.” You quirked a brow, not anticipating the flush on his cheeks to be so prominent. “If, uh, if that’s what you want, ange.” He dare not look at you while discarding his jacket, slowly climbing beside you in the queen-size bed, long legs almost swinging out of it; the long bed that sufficiently accommodated you, failed to do the same for him.

Perplexity. Life had a way of arousing it, for life is a gland and these shitty plotholes are the hormones it secrets into your bloody life. A day ago, you mourned the loss of your family, this man, one who vowed service to your father, abandoned him when he needed him the most; when you needed him the most — but he’s here now, isn’t he? You should’ve been mad, hell, he of all people knew the degree of your wrath once unleashed, but you couldn’t be mad at your Vince, not when he sank into the mattress, beside you, pressing himself against you, tauntingly gently, reluctant on whether to be a bit selfish and let his arm rest on your waist, close all humane proximity between you two, and let whatever warmth he still possessed, even if it came from the fiery depths of hell he was certain to burn in, creep onto you.

You noticed this reluctance, despite not facing him. You couldn’t, you feared what you’d do once you’d catch those ocean eyes of his staring into the depths of your soul, digging an abyss into it with his piercing gaze, creating his personal hell inside of you.

“Vincent,” you whispered. “Yes, mon ange.” His soft voice whispered. “Tenez-moi.” Finally, the hesitant arm found homage, snakes around your waist, pressing his godly body against yours. The grip was possessive, permanent, and above all, right. Nothing has ever felt so right, to both of you. In that moment you knew, Vincent would fight heaven and back for you, in your name, whatever it takes.

Amidst your sleep, you heard agonising whimpers from behind you. Both of Vincent’s hands were on your hips, like the fullness of them was comforting. “Ange,” He shivered a whimper, grip tightening around your hips, squeezing them in fear, fear of whatever horror he saw behind those eyes shut tight.

“It’s okay, Vince. I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, fingered grazing the veins on his large hands. He seemed to lean into your touch, crouching so his head could rest on your shoulder. ‘Not now, not ever.’ You meant to say, but you’re never had a way with words, a knotted tongue and a betraying body.

When morning came, so did the hellhounds. Jolting up at the sound of gunfire, your first thought was if Vincent got hurt, but not seeing him in bed with you as you’d requested, somehow, hurt more than what you’d knew a shot to the heart would. Getting up from the sheets in a frenzy, you reach for your 9mm and rush to the window. The sight below was three men circling in on one Vincent. Three armed men, and one Vincent with his weapon on the ground. You aim at the thug on the left — headshot; right, headshot, leaving the big boy with one man to knock down, a piece of cake, considering the boy was 6’4. He looked back at you, a grin plastered on his beautiful face, before he turned to the man in-front of him and tackled the shooter to the ground. “Atta boy.” You yelled out the window, before heading down to assist him.

‘Torturing’ is what an amateur would call it. You, on the other hand, say it like it is. ‘Information extraction’, it is. That’s truly how simple it is, the good ol’ human compliance, cooperation. You wouldn’t want to be a sinful Pinocchio and say you didn’t enjoy it when they didn’t, however. A challenge, hellions and rascals, and you loved brat-taming. Foreseeable, was this sight. A man stripped to the bone, tied in razor blade ropes of bondage, bleeding rivers of crimson at the hands of you and your beloved. Friend. Beloved friend.

“Tell us who sent you.” Vincent demanded, the tone of his voice was enough to snap you out of your sinister daze and let gooseflesh arise. “Va te faire foutre.” The son of a bitch had the audacity to retort. “Écoute, si tu parviens à répondre, tu seras libre de vivre ce qui reste de ta vie pathétique.” You sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose in annoyance. The bastard spitting on your face was the last straw for Vincent, who conjured a knife from an apparent holster and grabbed the perpetrator by his short hair. “If you won’t talk,” he said, slashing the man’s throat in one swift stroke, “Sing, pute.”

Fear, for the first time, as the evening sun made feeble attempts to paint the perpetrator’s etiolating face a hue of tangerine, gargling on his own blood, he managed to weakly reveal, “Corsioni,” before leaving this realm, leaving behind no legacy in a maggot’s world, but a mess for you and Vincent to clean.

Rehneyr Corsioni, an associate of your father’s. You remember talk amongst your mother and his wife of a marriage (of convenience) between you and his son, Edgar. “Je ne ferais jamais ça.” You’d scowl at the sound of his name. He had his Russian mother’s face and his Italian father’s eyes, his skin and her hair. A lethal combination, something many a woman has succumbed to in the past, but not you. You had your own plans involving a very mercurial and brooding Parisian boy. His fawn hair, his blue-green eyes; you’d decided to call the colour a shade of Turkish blue. Looking at him now, dried blood splatters tainting his face, you noticed he hasn’t changed much. He was still your Vince, right?

After ridding yourselves of the body, Vincent and you stayed outdoors, staring into the wisteria horizon; at the ravens flying into the greenery and at the bats flying north. “How are you holding up?” He asked you, breaking the silence after minutes of staring at you, a habit you’ve noticed him picking up. “All things considered…” you paused, peering into the sky as if the clouds were etched in your answers. “I’m just glad you’re with me, Vince.” You turn to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

May you be damned for finding solace in this state, but were you really to be blamed when tonight’s the first time he’s lowered his walls? Just enough for you to hop over, or sit atop them prettily. “About that,” he inched away a little, causing you to raise your head, tilting in confusion. “I think you should leave.” He spoke, his words were choked by uncertainty and his brows furrowed at how pathetic he sounded. “What?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “America. Stay there for a bit, lay low, or even find contracts. Laisse moi ici, just until things pacify.”

Pacify? What was left to assuage in this city of ruins? “Vincent, there’s nothing left for me here — for us, here.” You began reasoning, eyes flickering from his face, to his hands. When he blatantly refused to meet your gaze, you grabbed one of his hands, the whole of your hand seemingly elfin in his large ones. This act forced him to stare you down, unlike he does voluntarily, from time to time; this instance, you had to force him to look you in the eye.

“I’ve already booked a ticket, an apartment, clothes, everything— you don’t have to worry about none of that.” He tightened his hold on your hand, grabbing the other, too. “Please, Ange. I need you to do this.” He beseeched. Never had you ever seen such a pleading look on his face, agony whirling in his eyes. “For me?”

For him you found yourself on a plane to New York, tears threatening to break the dam of dignity in your eyes and flood away as you reminisce about his arms that wrapped around you the night before, and the way he leaned in but pulled away in the blink of an eye, muttering curses, unheard of by you, but the twitch of his mouth and the tearing up of his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you.

If your departure meant more to Vincent than he was letting on, why was he adamant on sending you away, and what wrath will the city of Paris go through now at the hands of a man apoplectic with provoked rage? Unfortunately, you couldn’t see for yourself, so, you let sleep cradle your being and drift off to some unconscious safe haven.

[theartofimagining13]

Imagine:

After yours and Dave’s divorce it took you both years to become friends, but once you did, you were very good to one another. Dave had a show in your hometown and invited you and your new boyfriend Bill, however, during the setlist, he performed a rather shameless song and told the audience how it was about you the love of his life. Bill just kept a poker face the whole time but when you got home you two had a terrible argument. 

{ Requested by: @neonhairspray​ } 

[alissa-xyz]

Can we get a close up of the Marquis licking his lip? 👀 (from the knife scene)(hope u know what i’m referring to).

I need it so badly. I seriously can’t get enough of this man (it’s killing me). Loving the gifs, btw!!

I obviously know what you're referring to... (or at least I hope so)

[fanfickeeper]

Hi, I’m hoping one of you beautiful people has a copy of Your Precious Skin by Wonderrland from AO3.

[littlemelaninfics]

Hi! I see you write for Bill Skarsgard and characters. I was wondering if I could request Eric Draven being a complete and totally pleasure Dom and he ends up putting you into subspace for the first time.

Excuse me, I need a moment 🥴

“Kneel for me.” 

You obediently sank to your knees in front of your dom, your head tilting back as your hair was harshly yanked by the god above you before he filled your pretty mouth with his cock. 

That had been hours ago. Now, you were spread out with your wrists and ankles bound to your metal bed frame. Your back arched, a strained cry leaving your lips as Eric landed a slap to your abused cunt. 

“Hold it. I didn’t say you could come again.” He snarled, feeling you get close for the fourth time that night. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whimpered softly, trying to keep yourself from coming as his deep thrusts nailed your cervix, making your vision spark with pain and pleasure. You yanked on the bonds that held your wrists, desperate to grab him and drag your nails down his back or pull him close to you. 

“Shh, just relax and take it, baby,” Eric nipped at your shoulder, disapproving of your attempts to struggle against his ties. You tried to still, and as you looked up at your Master, you felt the familiar haze wash over you that blurred the lines between your fantasy and reality. 

He saw it in your eyes, the all-too-familiar look he loved to see. You were teetering on the edge of slipping into subspace, and he knew you were hesitant. 

He's proven himself time and time again, so you trusted Eric with your life and you knew that he would never let you fall or abandon you while you were in that mindset. You were constantly in charge of managing every aspect of your life both at work and school, and you so badly wanted to give yourself to him in the bedroom, but you always needed a little push.

“Don’t fight it. I'm right here.” His swollen pink lips grazed yours.

The dangerous tone that had occupied his voice all night was gone as his lips brushed your ear, coaxing you into subspace. Your fourth orgasm rocked through you like a tidal wave, Eric’s skilled fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit as he kept his forceful thrusts. 

Euphoria flooded your body as you went stiff as stone. Somehow making you feel weightless as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. He knew by the glassy look in your eyes that you were so far gone, floating around in subspace. When you're in subspace, you strive to be the best girl you can be for him. You had already stopped yanking against the bonds, and your body had gone almost limp below his massive frame as you relaxed.

He detached himself from your throbbing cunt, earning a small whine at not feeling full. “Don't worry. I’m not done. Hang on for me.”

He kissed your lips, softening up now that you were in a different headspace. You weren’t very good at communicating when you were like this, and it made him hesitant to be rough with you. 

“That’s my good girl,” He murmured, kissing up your chest to leave a mark on your neck for you to blush at in the morning, and him to admire. 

“I know that you have one more for me, Y/N. You’ve been so good tonight, just give me another, then you can be done.” Eric urged you, gently fingering you while stroking your g-spot and lightly pulling your clit between his teeth. 

A silent scream caught in your throat and you arched your back, your thighs trembling erratically, your muscles sore and aching from how many times you’d cum that night. You barely heard his praises, only processing your own mind-numbing pleasure. You tried to retreat your hips, but to no avail,

“Y/N, you’ve got to learn to quit fighting these.” He hummed, touching the light red marks around your wrists, and you looked up at him with pathetic doe eyes,

“M’sorry, Daddy.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. He kissed both your thighs before roughly fingering you until you were soaking his massive forearm. He leaned his head down once again and greedily slurped his favorite drink.

That's five tonight.

Once he saw the tears streaming down your face, he climbed back up your body and kissed your lips tenderly. You murmured incoherently, and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you heavily. When you were yourself, you’d reach up to his hair and pull him in deeper, but now you were too fucked-out to think straight. 

He untied your limbs and sat you up enough to get behind you. You rested your head on his still damp chest. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the once chilled water and the face towel next to it. He dipped the towel and covered your forehead while telling you how good you were for him.

"I never thought I'd have the blessing of meeting someone like you and yet, here you are."

He pulled you to sit up, lifting the glass of water to your lips and supporting your head with his other hand. You opened your eyes, your gaze connecting with the deep green eyes that were full of love and adoration for you. You obediently swallowed the water he helped you drink, rehydrating your body.

Once you were relaxed enough to be moved, he lifted you off the bed and into the bathroom. He sat you on the pillow he placed on the stool before going to fill up the tub. You winced as the warm water swallowed your aching body as Eric sank down into the tub with you. You laid your head against his shoulder,

“I love you, Y/N” he said, kissing your temple as he rubbed soap over your body with his cool hands, gently massaging your sore muscles. 

“Love you,” you breathed, making him smile. 

“Can you drink some more for me, baby?” He held the glass, not quite trusting your muscle control yet. You finished the glass before he washed your hair, rubbing your scalp and pulling a pleased moan from your lips.

“Does that feel nice?” He laughed lightly, his chest vibrating against your back. You nodded, squirming as the bath water began to cool, becoming uncomfortable. 

Soon, you were wrapped in a fluffy towel and sat in front of the mirror, Eric standing behind you. He carefully ran your product through your mane, knowing you adored when he did so. It was intimate and tender, and he loved to comb through your tresses to show he loved you. This small gesture eased you back into reality so subtlety that it was a little ritual after a night like this.

“Was I good for you?” You spoke, making his eyes snap up to meet yours in the mirror. 

“Always.” He kissed the crown of your head. 

“Nice to have you back.” He spoke after several moments, his heart nearly bursting as you giggled softly. 

[crowsofdarkness]

Your and Bill's first time together.

-this was a request. you can find the original prompt ask here-

18+ CW's below the cut(sweet love making with protected p in v, taking of someones virginity, Bill being a sweet heart during and caring in after care)

"You doing alright, angel?" Bill's voice asked into the crook of your neck.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, trying to focus on the pleasure rather than the slight pain. At first, it was more prominent but the more Bill's cock slowly pumped in and out of you, taking his time, the pleasure began to bloom low in your gut.

Not only was it your first time together, but it was also your first time; Bill taking your virginity. He'd been so gentle and patient in the first few months you two were dating, never pressuring you. While you two did do quite a bit of foreplay, he wanted to wait for sex until you were ready.

And tonight was that night.

When you mentioned to him earlier that you were finally ready, he went all out. Flowers, candles, and music.

"Bill," you moaned while hooking your legs over his broad lower back. "It's so good."

His lips captured yours in a lazy kiss as his hips slammed against yours, the sounds of skin against skin echoing over the soft music. His cock twitched inside of you, indicating that he was close, and you were too. You could feel the heat begin to spark at the base of your spine and your body tensed underneath him.

Bill's thumb drew fast circles against your clit. "I can feel you clenching around my cock, angel. Cum apart for me. I'm right behind you."

One more final thrust from him had both of you falling off the cliff together, his lips finding yours once more.

"Any pain?" He asked after he pulled himself out of you.

You shook your heaad but then winced slightly. "A bit but I'll be fine."

Lifting you from the bed, Bill carried you to the ensuite bathroom and set you on the toilet. While he disposed of the condom in the trash and you did your business, you watched him fill up the tub full of hot water and bubbles.

With an extended hand, you let him guide you into the tub before he did his best to maneuver his long legs behind you. It wasn't a huge tub but you two made due.

"I love you," he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his chest pressed to your back.

You drag your hands through the water, humming in delight. "I love you too, Bill."

[stars-for-circe]

Circe's Most Frequented 🤍🤍🤍

My favourite authors over many different fandoms, for your indulgence.

@astralnymphh - TLOU, sapphic, shakespeare reborn

𖣂 There is no one else who could begin this list except for you tbh. One of the first authors I ever followed on this app and your work has never failed to blow me away; from your beautifully paced works that never run out of new prompts and tropes that you always nail, to your crazy big words you scavenged from wordhippo and managed to intergrate perfectly into your fics. To the Ellie Williams enthusiasts, give her fics a read and I promise it will change the trajectory of your lives forever. And don't be afraid to send her an ask, because she will quite literally craft a masterpiece.

𖣂 My recommendation: 'The Salvo Project'

@vifilms - TLOU, sapphic, she makes tumblr formatting her bitch

𖣂 At first it was your witty drabbles, then you graduated to 10k fics that take everyone's breath away. The way you can turn a single tiny idea into such a detailed work while also integrating the essence of each character you write into every single paragraph never fails to amaze me every time you appear on my feed. With your constantly changing layouts, and your beautifully crafted fic headers that show just how much of your heart goes into everything you put onto this app, you keep raising the bar again and again.

𖣂 My recommendation: 'Long Night, Long Ride'

@sweetercalypso - TLOU, multi

𖣂 Also one of my first follows, I remember quite clearly scrolling through the Abby Anderson tag on ao3 and being so blown away that I basically did a cartwheel when I saw you on tumblr. Your fics are the perfect late-night fix that are to-the-point, and your drabbles are filled with every trope anyone could even think up. And I'll shamelessly admit that reading your fics definitely moved Joel up quite a few slots in who I liked most within tlou.

𖣂 My recommendations: 'Texas Hold 'Em' + 'Uncharted Territory'

@the-kr8tor - Spiderverse, f/m, sfw

𖣂 I gotta say, this third movie needs to speed up so more people can come here and see how well you write for the spiderverse. Finding you in the tags was like a breath of fresh air, and your series works have kept me up at night on more than one occasion because of their binge-worthy goodness! From the adorable drabbles of Billie and Ramona, to the ups and downs that come with being a pirate, your works keep me invested even in the first, second....twenty-something times I've reread them.

𖣂 My recommendation: 'Our Place In The Middle Of Nowhere'

@s-4pphics - TLOU, Arcane, sapphic

𖣂 I hope you know that when you released 'The Call', it kept me up at night. Seriously, you're a genius. Maybe this style has been written before but it's the first time I've seen it. And amidst all the Sevika and Vi works that were being pumped out after the release of season 2, that fucking gem was put on my feed and it genuinely blew my mind. It was the perfect combination of crack-style fic and dark humour, coming together to make this smutty, hilarious, jaw dropping fic that had me pacing around my room a couple times - one of my favourites of all time.

𖣂 My recommendation, obviously: 'The Call'

@taintandviolent - Ahs, f/m, multi-fandom extraordinaire

𖣂 First of all, your username is fucking genius. Like actually, it had me saying it out loud and having such an OHHH moment and now I can't stop thinking about how cool it is. Secondly, if anyone has a taste for dark, gritty, horror infused tropes, or loves anything Evan Peters just like I do, her blog is the way to go. Her page is unapologetically for the monster-loving girlies who 'can fix him', and there's a little bit in there for every fandom that finds her. You're one of my favourite authors to send requests to, and you have definitely made me see Bill Skarsgard in a different light as of recent. 𖣂 My recommendation: 'Ouija Board’

[homiesexuallaj]

Request please

Eric (Bill Skarsgard) confronting your father and getting you out of toxic household, maybe some smut at the end ?? :)

ps. love your blog

Pairing: Eric Draven (2024) x reader

Genre/Warning: mommy-left core (cliche but we love it ngl), like some angst, fluff, abusive dad, hints at violence, small mention of blood, smut, oral (m receiving), bodily fluids, cum eating, some aftercare!!, a little twist at the end ;), kinda proofread

A/N: Thank you for the request and the compliment! Sorry it took a bit to get to, but here it is! Also, requests are closed for the moment!!

--- --- ---

Thank to the gods above that you lived in the era that you did. And thank the gods that you had a phone. You weren't ever sure what you would do if you lived in a different time than you did or if you didn't have a phone. How else would you be able to deal with your father and call for help when he came home in one of his moods?

Your father had gotten into these types of violent, belittling moods when you were younger. But after your mother left you both, he'd only gotten worse. Your father would always say he couldn't believe your mother left you with him and that he wish she took you with her. Now he had to take care of a spoiled brat such as yourself! The older you got, the worse he got, the drunker he came home. The hitting never stopped, though it had escalated from open-handed slaps to harsh nudges with a steel-toed boot to the stomach when you crumbled down to the floor.

Thank the gods you had Eric.

You'd met Eric one night after slipping out of your second-story bedroom window. You'd gone on a walk around town, despite it being dangerous. You'd told yourself anything was safer than your ticking time bomb of a father back home. You'd been apprehensive when Eric approached you, but after you determined he wasn't a threat you were more relaxed. He had asked why you were out so late. You'd only said you needed some fresh air, so not a total lie. Even if black and blue bruises colored your skin underneath the maroon-colored turtleneck you wore.

This happened a couple more times, Eric finding you wandering the streets alone and keeping you company before you two decided to officially become friends, exchange phone numbers, and hang out whenever either of you weren't busy. After hanging out for a few more times and going over to Eric's with a bruise that mimicked the midnight sky, you'd finally opened up to him about your father after his million questions. There and then, Eric practically demanded that you call or text whenever your father came home in "one of his moods."

And that's what you were doing now. Back pressed against the hallway bathroom door up on the second story of the house you lived in with your father and shaky hands listening to your phone dial Eric, who'd answered as soon as he saw your name on his phone screen.

"Eric?" Your voice was shaky. "My- my father!"

Your father banged on the locked bathroom door and jingled the knob, calling out and asking who you were talking to. That you better not be on the phone with that damn boy!

There were tears streaming down your face and down your neck, the wet skin tingling and tightening with goosebumps. You muffled a sob behind your hand and shuffled your feet against the door to brace yourself as the door shook.

"Gimme five minutes, sweetheart," Eric hurried, you could hear the jingling of something over the phone. "Just stay on the phone, 'kay?"

" 'kay," Your voice was small, shaky still.

Not even two minutes later, Eric spoke through the little words and phrases he told you through the phone, "Does your bathroom window open?"

"Y-yeah," You nodded even though your companion couldn't see you.

"Can you climb out the window?" He asked at the same moment you could hear the squeak of a screen door downstairs.

"Yeah," You answered.

" 'kay, you do that right now," Eric ordered. "I'm gonna hang up but I'm right there, promise. Okay? I love you."

Your breath hiccupped a bit as you made your way to the opposite wall of the bathroom and unlocked the window there, "Love you."

With that, the line went dead.

Your father was still yelling at you as you pushed the bathroom window open. The squeaking of the window sliding in the frame only made your father angrier, and the shaking of the door only built in ferocity. When you had a leg and a half out of the window, you could hear wood cracking, and the door to the bathroom burst open just as soon as you slipped out and down the side of the house, down the trellises that your mom had placed there many years ago.

When you made it to the safe, cold ground of your damp front lawn, you heard a commotion upstairs. You looked around. Eric was nowhere to be seen but the wooden front door to your house was wide open. You backed away, phone in hand still, and shuffled into the shadows of the tree in your front yard.

You waited, listening to the rather violent sounds coming from the upstairs bathroom window you escaped through. Eventually, it went silent and soon enough the front screen door to your house swung open.

There was Eric, wide eyes scanning the yard and metallic baseball bat in hand. The metal and Eric had just the tiniest bit of blood splattered on them, across his face, but minus the forming black eye on his face, Eric looked fine. Great even. When he'd spotted you, he relaxed and made his way to you.

You met him halfway, pulling him down to you in a suffocating hug with your arms wrapped around his neck. You'd cried into the black jacket he wore, tears and a little bit of snot staining the fabric. You thanked him repeatedly through sobs.

Eric held you back just as tight, even not tighter. The arm that the baseball bat was held in wrapped around your midback and his freehand held the back of your head, keeping you close for both his sake and yours. He held you for as long as you needed, until your crying subsided and you pulled away just slightly.

"Thank you," You said again, fisting away the water under your eyes and coating your cheeks. "I-I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Me neither, sweetcheeks," Eric looked down at you, his own eyes shiny despite the dark of the night and the shadow of the tree above you two. He still cradled the back of your head. "And, it's nothing. I'd do anything for you."

You nodded, sniffling. Your breathing hiccuped and shivered as you calmed down, trying to compose yourself a little bit.

"Let's go back to my place, yeah?" Eric offered, tilting his head.

You nodded, "Yeah."

Before you two started walking to Eric's place, Eric shucked off his black jacket and slid it up your arms and around your shoulders. He zipped it up and grabbed hold of your hand before you two fell into a natural step beside each other.

Back at Eric's place, he fed you a good, filling dinner. Afterward, he pushed you off towards the shower, promising to find you good pajamas.

You’d taken your time in the shower, washing your body, hair, and face with care. When you’d come out of your shower, you found pjs and a spare tooth brush on the bathroom counter. You dried off and dressed into the large t-shirt and baggy shorts. After, you brushed your teeth before finally exiting the bathroom.

Steam billowed out behind you and into the attached bedroom, casting you in an almost heavenly glow in the bathroom light before you flicked the switch off. You spotted Eric on the bed with a lack of blood splatter and in a change of clothes.

“C’mere,” Eric gave a few pats to his lap before holding his arms out, making a grabby motion with his hands.

You obeyed him, padding over to crawl over the top of him. You straddled Eric, sitting down softly and resting your hands on his stomach. You felt a little shy sitting here like this. You’d done it many times, but with the way Eric looked at you- you couldn’t help but feel shy.

“Always so shy..,” Eric murmured, grabbing at the nape of your neck to pull you down to him.

You let him, connecting your lips to his once you were close enough. You breathed out against his lips and as hummed against you. Your lips moved against his, and at the request of his tongue, you opened up and let Eric in.

Eric pressed his tongue against yours, drinking in your taste as he squeezed at your hips with his large hands. Slowly, ever so slowly, Eric made his way from your lips, over your cheek, along your jawline, and down the column of your neck. He left open mouthed kisses that had heat billowing underneath your skin, but as soon as you felt teeth you pulled away. Eric gave you a hazy but confused look.

It’s only when you made your way down Eric’s body, your hands following down his sides, did he realize what you were doing. It was only solidified when your fingers toyed with the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Oh sweetheart,” Eric mumbled, lifting his head to look down at you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” You told Eric, tugging down his sweats.

Eric let you, lifting his hips.

You pulled his sweats down to his mid-thigh. Eric’s already hard dick bounced up against his stomach as it snapped out from the confines of his boxers and sweats. The bulbous tip was an angry red and leaked with a shiny, clear liquid. A faint vein pulsed down the underside of his shaft.

Eric tensed when you grabbed the base of his cock, and hissed through his teeth when you leaned down to lick his sticky tip. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and he laid his head back on the pillow when you took Eric into you mouth.

As you set a steady pace of bobbing your head up and down Eric’s length, your hair kept getting in the way. You’d forgotten to tie it up and you’re regretting that now. Before you could take care of it, Eric took matters into his own hands. Quite literally. Eric gathered your hair up with both hands, before holding it all in one hands to keep it out of the way. With his free hand, he brushes away hair from your forehead.

You looked up at Eric, blinking at him appreciatively. You continued on in your ministrations, using a mix of suction and tongue. You’d twisted a hand along the slick length of cock you couldn’t cover with your mouth.

Before long, you could feel Eric’s thighs tensed under where you rested your free hand. He’d started involuntarily twitching and thrusting up into your mouth a bit too. When you looked up his way, you could see the scrunch of his eyebrows and his bottom lip between his teeth as he met your gaze.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eric’s voice was low and rough. “Fuck- I’m -fuck- gonna-“

You’d only doubled down on your efforts when Eric let out breathy moans and you could feel the warm, thick liquid of his cum filling your mouth. You’d winced only a little as Eric’s grip on your hair tightened as his own orgasm washed over his body.

Eric moaned and thrusted shallowly into your mouth, arching his back a bit and pushing his pulsing cock into your mouth more. A string of curses left his mouth.

You’d only pulled away when Eric’s moans turned a bit higher in pitch and he twitched away from your hold. You sucked all the way up until you let Eric’s cock go with a “pop” of your mouth. You swallowed the salty, heady taste of Eric. The feel of him coated your throat all the way down to your stomach, making your esophagus sticky.

Gingerly, you pulled Eric’s boxers and sweats back up to their original place. You sat between Eric’s thighs, waiting on his recovery.

Finally, he opened his eyes.

“Thank you,” Eric’s voice was heavy and breathy.

“Anytime,” You smiled down at him.

You crawled up beside Eric, laying your head on his chest and throwing a leg over his thighs. You snuggled into him, breathing the scent of him in.

Eric reciprocated your cuddling immediately. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You both laid there, basking in the feeling and warmth of each other.

——

You sat in the living room of a small, two story house that was fit for a family of three. The couch you sat on was comfy, and a mug of warm tea sat on the coaster on the coffee table in front of you.

Beside you, sat Eric with his own mug of tea.

Adjacent to you sat a woman in her own little arm chair. She sat on the edge, eyes alight as he looked at you.

“I’m so glad you got out,” The woman told you.

The woman and you held hands, facing each other and knees knocking.

“Me too, mom,” You smiled at her with shiny eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” The woman, your mom, responded with relief in her voice. “And I’m glad you had help.” Her eyes shifting to give Eric an appreciative look.

Eric gave a respectful nod of his head, slouching forward to not seem to tall and to not take up so much space in the small room.

“I’m sorry for leaving you,” Your mom apologized. “Your father, he- he wouldn’t let me have you. He threatened to kill me or you if I took you. I left you there to keep you alive. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, mom,” You squeezed her hands in yours. “It’s not your fault. I know that now.”

Your mom gave a thankful dip of her head.

Your father was dead now and you officially lived with Eric, your stuff lingering with his. You no longer had to deal with his abusive actions and belittling words.

You’d found your mom online after you recovered, and after the police investigation of your father’s death. You reached out and she was more than happy to reconnect. And so were you, honestly. You’d been more than enough time at your mom’s, well into the evening and through dinner time. It seemed she didn’t want to let you go, and you didn’t want to leave.

Finally, you had some calm in your life…

[plussizeappreciationfics]

Can I request Bill skarsgard x plus! size reader/ Tom Hiddleston so Tom and the reader were dating but Tom cheated on her so she moved on with Bill Skarsgard they got married had kids a whole happy ending for the reader

Sorry for the long wait hun, here you go!!

„Any last words? “, you whispered to your now ex-boyfriend Tom. The British actor shook his head in and bowed his head in shame, just having watched you back your final belongs all while your best friend was waiting outside in your car.

You couldn’t help but let out a frustrated scoff while shaking your head in disapproval. “Really? An hour ago, you had no issues counting all my flaws and reasons why you decided to cheat on me with your friend…”. Tom sighed and shook his head again, still avoiding your piercing glare by playing with his tall fingers. You couldn’t describe the hot and burning anger burning all the way deep in your chest as you continued to shoot daggers at your ex-boyfriend.

“Well, I hope that she was worth it. Look at me and tell me that she was worth throwing away our three-year relationship, Tom”, you demanded with a cold tone. Tom finally lifted his head and looked straight at you, a part of him felt sorry that he had put you through so much betrayal, pain, and misery, but his blue eyes also showed something else. Another emotion. You squinted your eyes and stared at him without saying a word.

“(Y/N), I am very sorry that I cheated on you, but what Zawe and I have is something else…Something better.”.

A lump formed in your throat that was almost impossible to swallow as the tears started to brim your eyes, but you silently refused to give Tom the benefit of seeing you cry and break down again. You had wasted enough tears because of this man. His eyes showed relief. Relief that he now could be honest about his feelings and continue his life with his newfound love.

“Zawe is worth it. I know this must be so fucking hard for you to hear but I want to set my feelings straight. I regret cheating but not the fact that I ‘ve found the love I’ve always wanted. I’m sorry that you’re not it.

Fucking hell, this man had all the audacity and no shame whatsoever.

You nodded your head in pure disappointment and pursed your lips, still trying to swallow the disrespectful words that were just thrown at you. You lifted the final duffel bag and threw it over your shoulder, just wanting to disappear.

“You don’t even deserve any final words from me. “, you hissed and with this turned around and left your once shared bedroom, waiting until you had left Tom’s house and had hopped into your car where your best friend already was waiting to comfort you. You couldn’t even form any words, she had seen the look on your face before waiting until you had put your seatbelt on to give you a quick hug, glaring daggers at Tom’s house and silently wishing him the worst.

Your best friend made sure that you were somewhat stable before driving away, wishing that she could take away all your pain. To have witnessed you losing the man you loved so much was also very hard for her.

5 years later

“Bill” you giggled and watched your husband plant gentle kisses over your swollen stomach, your unborn daughter kicking in euphoria as she loved having her father’s attention. It was about nine a.m., your two-year-old son was still asleep after having a fussy night filled with lots of cries but also cuddles and reassurance that he wasn’t alone and very much loved. You and Bill soaked the silence in and just waited for your little ray of sunshine to wake up and fill your day with laughter and silliness.

Your husband pecked your stomach a few more times and chuckled gently when his daughter showed that she wanted more love by poking her tiny foot out of your left side of your stomach. “Oof”, you sighed and laughed, wondering how something so small could be yet so strong.

“Hey, don’t hurt mommy, ok? She’s taking such good care of you, your brother and me. We all love her so much”, your husband praised before shifting his position so that he was lying right next to you, his hand now gently placed on your stomach and staring lovingly into your beautiful eyes.

You couldn’t help but melt away at this beautiful sight, your heart swelling in your chest as you felt pure happiness and peace slowly tingle through your body. The pregnancy was going fine, and you only had two more months left before your daughter would grace the world with her presence, completing your beautiful family. Bill was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“I love you so much, (Y/N)”, your husband whispered and gently caressed your soft cheek, drinking in the breathtaking sight of the love of his life just lying there, looking like a goddess. Pride and joy filled his heart as he shook his head in astonishment, still not being able to comprehend the fact that he had to absolute honor of having you in his life, carrying life inside you.

All you could do was whisper that you loved him back while grinning from ear to hear. Bill pulled you closer and let his head rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling and humming in pleasure when your delicate scent hit his nostrils. You closed your eyes and just remember all the beautiful memories you’ve mad with this man.

How weird was it that just years ago, your heart got so destroyed that you had lost all hopes of finding love again. The days and nights you had spent crying yourself to sleep while having your entourage and the social media flaunt the relationship of your ex right in your face. Even going offline and deleting all your social media accounts didn’t help because you were constantly faced with a fact or sight of your ex enjoying his life with his now fiancé and their toddler. You had to quit your job, move away before the deep wound in your heart was able to slowly heal.

And now here you were, lying in bed with the love of your life and enjoying this peaceful moment.

“Mama! Dada!” the voice of your son rang through the room as your baby monitor blinked, notifying that your son was now wide awake. You and Bill both looked at the small screen placed on your nightstand with a wide smile on your faces. The little ball of pure joyous energy was now conscious and ready to turn your day upside down with silliness and laughter. “I’ll get the little man and prepare breakfast for us, my love. You stay still and enjoy a few more minutes and peace and quietness” your husband chuckled before pressing a tender kiss on your mouth, which let your lips tingle and yearn for more kisses. “Thanks”, you whispered before closing your eyes and laughing while your son starting singing a made up song while tumbling around in his small bed, already wreaking havoc.

-Emmanuelle

@ctrlszn l @baggyfaggy l @automaticdelusionstudent l @thefemfem l @ah-blossom l @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes

[shamrock313]

Alida Morsberg (Sept. 24)

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Please take everything with a grain of salt. Enjoy!

General Energy: 4oC + 3oW + 10oP = Emotionally detached or dissatisfied. 3oW tells me she's looking ahead. Waiting for something to come or change, we could say new friendships, new outlook / outcomes, the new changes that come with the new baby. 10oP is her focusing on building or maintaining her home life. Stability.

What's going on with her and Bill? 5oS = Conflict, tension, or disagreements between them. Unresolved issues or ongoing arguments that are causing friction. Both could be feeling defensive or hurt leading to being emotional distant.

Can it be fixed? QoS + Sun = As long as they have an open and honest conversation and communicate without being bias then yeah.

What should she do for herself? Hermit + 2oW + Star = Reconnect with her inner self. Find clarity in what she truly wants. 2oW focus on her personal growth and happiness. Star have a clearer sense of purposes and optimism for her future. Focus on healing.

[cillivnz]

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮 𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 [𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭]

A/N: refer to the sypnosis and preliminaries HERE (i’d consider it important)

PROLOGUE

NOTES:

𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮 𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬 — 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

“Qu'as-tu fait, fils ?” - What have you done, son?

Ange - angel

Le Décès - The Death

Rich, and direful.

If the hellhounds of the underworldly assassins were to describe to your family, they’d call you silk-stocking sinister sons of bitches. It was true to an extent, yet the kindness that still beat in your stone cold hearts, making feeble attempts to warm your blood, was unknown to the world, but they knew.

They had a fancy name, but no synonymous life to honour it. They worked under your father, yet your father honoured brotherhood when he knew it was an accord set for life, the life of the progeny, too.

That is how you first met Vincent, the older child of your favourite Uncle de Gramont. Though you were closer to his baby sister’s age, you immediately took a liking to the older boy. Could he have been your first crush? Perhaps, the absurdity lay simply in the rejecting facade the boy had on when you’d shyly offer him to play with your dolls. Either way, you’d found yourself yearning for the de Gramont’s to come over to your Parisian mansion, and moreover, bring their children along.

You had been trained to shoot and stab the minute you asked for another toy. Sinisterly enough, you had soon learned that loading-reloading and shooting with a gun was far more fun than braiding Barbie’s hair; the day you proved to your father, you were indeed his blood. You weren’t allowed fieldwork yet, however; not until you reached the age of 17, but as for your crush, it was different.

As his father’s name and fame spread like wildfire, a poison ivy climbing up a ladder of hitmen, a foe sought vengeance. You were half asleep when the colossal doors to your mansion were pounded by immature hands, threatening to break every block of wood that went into making them, had someone not opened the door. The sight you remember, still lingering like a faded photograph in your memory lane’s camera, was a little Vincent covered in blood. On your father’s questioning, he revealed his father wasn’t the man yours thought him to be. An angry drunk is worse than an absent father, for the pain of memories doesn’t taint your skin with razor deep bruises that a present one embeds.

When they found out his father laid a hand on the little girl, placing her instantaneously in death’s cradle, your own blood ran cold. When your father asked, “Qu'as-tu fait, fils ?” he just replied, “I wish I’d killed him sooner,” wiping away the blood of his father from his face.

That was the last you saw of Vincent for a while, a petrifying thought, haunting memory to reminisce about. It ached — the look on his face, etched in your brain, a whip to your soul — the bloodshot eyes, staring at your father, in anger, exhilaration, a head held high drooping at the sight of little you in your night frock, jostling down the stairs at the commotion, descending faster at the sound of his voice, only to see him saturated in the blood he slashed out of his wrongdoer. Le Décès.

“Le Décès,” were the first words that escaped your father’s knotted tongue. An initial whisper, then an affirmation, and the look of guilt and shame on Vincent’s face at the sight of you was replaced by pride, finally, acknowledgment.

Vincent soon became Vengeance, Le Décès. Replacing his father’s position in your father’s life, you finally got what little you always wanted; having him close to you. Living under the same roof, going to the same events, killing the same people.

However, little you would be saddened to see this change in him. He didn’t talk to you, doesn’t tell you scary stories, make jokes about drinking too much tea before an assignment, pay attention to your words — all he does is stare at you from afar — no matter the time or the day, you’d always catch those Turkish blue eyes fixated on you, perhaps he feared if he stopped looking, you, too, would disappear from his life, just a petrifying thought, haunting memory to reminisce about.

Still, the two of you worked closely.

The Parisian Bonnie and Clyde; you soon earned notoriety in the underworld, proving yourself to be worthy of your name. Ensorceler, bewitcher of men, playing the aortic strings of their hearts like they’re wooden harps. They labelled you a sex symbol, you could only scoff at such vulgar truth. The blood rush you felt when it flowed for you, made the kill poetic.

You weren’t some slaughtering maniac, no. This was art, you were an artist before an assassin; with blades for brushes and crimson on your canvas. A femme fatale exhibiting that it’s her world, you’re only living in it because she lets you. After all, the lioness overpowers the lion in the only animalistic instinct genetic in them; hunting.

You didn’t flee when your family was assassinated. Vincent wasn’t there to protect you, for whatever reason it may have been, he wasn’t there, out of all the days he couldn’t have been. An army of shooters was taken down by you, had it not been your family they were after, you’d have joked about being Tony Montana, and then you became him.

You wreaked enough havoc for a century of cleaning supplies to work on, but wouldn’t it have been easier to leave, altogether? That’s what you did. Packed whatever sentiment was left in your seemingly meaningless clothes, now. Shed tears on your father’s insensate corpse, clinging to his blood soaked suit. You were a devoted daughter, every kill, every drop of blood you shed, you shed in his name. Yelling, screaming, you let your tears burn your bloody face. Now, you called out for help; after slaughtering every maggot that crawled into your home thinking they could devour you, you cry for help when life detaches from your father’s soul, your mother’s; you cry for Vincent.

As if the chant-less summoning worked, a hand rested on your shoulder. Your head snapped in the source’s direction, vision still blurry from the acid running down your face. “Vince…” You cried, softly, letting those strong arms carry you. The blood, the horror sight, the ruins, none of it mattered to you once he came. He came. He was going to take the pain away, you knew it.

When you were kids, you fell off while riding your bicycle on a stony path about your house, gashing your knee. Vincent saw you fall from a distance and was immediately on his feet, running towards you. “Don’t cry, ange.” He would coo softly, even as a child he was so much taller, bigger than you. He’d wipe away your tears, pointing where you’d fallen and say, “Look how many ants you killed.” And you’d laugh, forgetting all about the blood and the scars to come.

Thankfully, surprisingly, never has your body ever been tainted, despite how close you are to death every day in your life; a finger in the beak of the Hanged Man, always. Vincent’s taken hits for you, and something tells you he’d continue to.

“Ange, I promise you, I will avenge you.” Ange, he called you that after an eternity. “I will be your vengeance.” He said, before carrying you away. “I will be your vengeance.” His words ringing into your ears, etched into your mind along with the image of him as a child, murdering his father for vengeance.

Vengeance.

Que l'enfer se déchaîne, que les ravages se fassent et que la vengeance soit délivrée.

Let hell unleashed, havoc wreaked and vengeance be delivered.