𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙪𝙠𝙖

dividers: @angeliicide

vivien went on a hunger strike that day which lasted approximately an hour. the apples were simply too juicy. it was hard to resist- you see, vivien has always loved juicy stuff and you always had some apple juice in a little carton with you for lunch. vivien thought it was destiny, then. (and totally not a coincidence and the fact that children usually enjoy sweet things.)

the story brings a dramatic tear to the, now adult, eyes of vivien. next to him, his teammate julien couldn’t be any less interested. “that’s what got you distracted? a girl from over 15 years ago that threw barbies at you? i wish i had some right now, you’re making me want to throw something, too.”

charles giggles away behind them, “is that why you don’t have a girlfriend? you think you’ll meet her again or something?”

“exactly that,” vivien refuses to entertain his childish teammate and friend, “we’re meant to be together, and that’s why i’ll wait as long as i need to.”

he often wonders what life has been like for you. if your smile is still just as bright, if you’re still just as much of a know-it-all. if you have a boyfriend. 

that last point makes him grimace.

the open field is bathed by the spring sun. the temperatures aren’t too high, but enough to work up a sweat if the wind slows down enough. as the trio steps onto the grass, on their way to join their fellow national team players, they note a new figure standing next to their coach.

“oh yeah, wasn’t there supposed to be some new manager?” julien questions, eyes already set on the person as they get closer and closer.

vivien nods, “right. i just hope they won’t get in the way.”

thoughts of you are quickly overshadowed in favor of the upcoming qualifying rounds for the world cup. the three of them need to bring their a-game, if the four world cup wins are still something they wish to achieve. which, it very much is.

as they come to a standstill next to the rest of the team, vivien eyes the new person with half-interest. more-so ready to get the introductions over with so he can hear what the coach has to say. though, the longer he looks at their new manager, the more his heart speeds up. the same eyes, the same mouth- even the same way you used to stand whenever you gave a presentation..!

he says your name in unison with the coach, more to himself than to anyone else, but it doesn’t go unheard by his friend. julien raises a brow, looking between you and vivien. he nudges the midfielder, “you know this one? she’s cute. you could’ve introduced us-”

palms sweating, vivien wipes them on his shorts. it’s hard to believe that it really is you, but there is no mistaking you for anyone else. unless you’ve got a twin, who goes by the same name. 

do you recognize him? will you still have the urge to throw stuff at him? he doesn’t have a lot of time to ponder on those questions when their coach dismisses you again. it is worth a raised brow when he sees you look up at the older man, eyes full of determination. a silly sight, especially when all he asks is for you to get the cooler from the canteen so they could all have some chilled water during training.

and yet, even for something so simple, you nod with vigor, and off you go. 

vivien hears a chuckle coming from julien, “cute. looks sweet, and very eager to please.”

the taller man can’t help a corner of his lips from inching upward. you always used to be like that, just… not for him. 

but now that he’s in a position to ask things from you it’s a whole different story. he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but you not remembering him might just work in his favor here. that is, if you do. or don’t. his brows pinch in confusion. 

either way, julien’s interest doesn’t cause any jealousy, surprisingly enough. building in his gut is an excitement akin to the one he experiences on the field. it’s an excitement he only experiences when he plays with julien. so while they start their laps around the field for their standard warm-up, vivien gets an absolutely wonderful idea.

“can i tell you something crazy?” vivien asks, running alongside julien.

julien rolls his eyes, “what, another anecdote about the barbie thrower?”

when he’s met with no real answer, merely vivien’s soulless eyes staring back at him, he groans, “do i have another choice?”

“it’s her.”

that has julien’s neck snapping back, eyes darting between where you left earlier and his destiny-driven friend. “that’s the barbie thrower? you’re fucking kidding.”

vivien kind of wishes he was. he’s thought of reuniting with you so many times, and none of them were anything like this. especially not when the reunion mixed julien into it all. 

but, thinking about it now, meeting julien has always felt like part of his destiny as a football player. maybe their connection goes further, and maybe it was always meant to be you three. his friend’s interest in you right from the get-go only solidifies that theory. both of them were taken by you as soon as they saw you, that simply cannot be a coincidence. 

so, vivien shakes his head, “not kidding. i don’t know if she remembers me.”

“let’s hope not. or- actually yeah, for me i sure hope she does,” julien laughs, “gives me a better chance.”

the sun is truly doing its best to make this as exhausting as it can. the wind nearly gone, it’s now just a bunch of sweaty men with insane stamina which is now rendered near-useless. luckily, you’re back. hauling that way-too-big cooler just for them. they finish the lap, stopping at the little makeshift hydration station you’ve set up.

while he definitely wasn’t jealous thinking of you with julien, vivien’s chest squeezes tightly when he sees you handing out bottles to his other (very clearly interested) teammates. out of the corner of his eye he sees julien has already put on his most charming grin. or maybe it went instinctively, vivien definitely wouldn’t blame him. 

it was strangely cathartic, seeing julien so interested in you. as very popular players they had always had their share of women who’d do anything to even be near them, but never has vivien seen such genuine intrigue in his friend’s eyes. then again, julien has always been very… how does he put it? ah, yes. domineering. while it had no effect on himself, clearly it was something that appealed to a lot of women, and vivien has an inkling it may also appeal to you. 

vivien’s heart nearly beats out of his chest when it’s finally their turn. he searches for your eyes to meet, looking for any sign of recognition. and it’s exactly what he finds. crows feet form near the corners of your eyes as you focus in on him. the burgundy hair is hard to confuse, he thinks.

a voice he did not expect to have changed so much, yet one that fits you so extremely well fills his ears and his heart. 

“vivien? it’s been so long,” he hears you giggling, “sorry, i don’t have anything to throw at you this time.”

he hears julien snort next to him, while his eyes continue staring you down. it’s honestly getting a bit uncomfortable. in your hand is the cold water bottle, one he has still not taken and it sounds like it’s getting increasingly harder for julien not to burst out laughing. 

your eyes find julien, your expression so innocently curious it has his heart doing flips. with a slap to the back of his head, vivien finally takes the bottle from you, “thank you. and i guess you could’ve thrown the bottle. thank you for uhm.. not doing that.”

“though he would’ve definitely deserved it,” julien adds. “name’s julien, by the way. it’s wonderful to meet you.”

vivien says your name at the same time as you, again. it sounds so pretty, and rolls off the tongue so easily, so naturally. so meant-to-be. it’s yet another confirmation to him that the wait was worth it, and all the feelings he had for you back then come surging back just as strongly. hopefully no hunger strike will be necessary this time.

woefully, training has to continue and they’re forced to bid you goodbye. for now. 

it’s hard to ignore julien’s grin, so he doesn’t. “we’re not talking to her anymore. why are you smiling?”

that’s met with an eyeroll. “dude, you don’t know anything about girls, do you?”

vivien shakes his head, “never needed to pay attention.”

“clearly,” julien sighs, passing the ball to him while they continue their drills, “she’s perfect. like, actually perfect. wanna bet we can get her to do anything we want?”

vivien’s brows pinch, “how do you know that?”

there hasn’t been much indicating what you’d be like in a private setting, at least to vivien. 

julien deadpans, “did you even see how she lit up when coach praised her for getting the cooler? sure it’s just one example but she’s a sucker for orders and praise i can just see it!”

vivien huffs, “i don’t think it’ll be that easy.”

the smirk that spreads across julien’s face says enough. game on.

‧₊˚☁️⋅♡𓂃ִֶָ࣪☾.

it’s a tough balance to maintain, julien thought at first. speaking to you any time he got the chance to while not ticking you off to something being wrong. whether that be a quick ‘good morning, miss manager’ or a cheeky ‘cute skirt’. though, he quickly finds, you’re.. to put it plainly, very very naive. 

combined with you, expectedly, taking orders without stopping for even a second to consider them, made easing you into more and more scandalous situations a cake-walk. 

on one of the hotter mornings, julien rests on the grass while vivien is off to the bathroom. his eyes drift to you, where you gather the empty bottles left by others and dump them into the recycle bin. he’s learned that you’re not always very aware of your surroundings, and thus must not be doing this on purpose… but every upskirt shot he gets of you whenever you bend down sure makes him question whether you meant for him to see the absolutely adorable polka dot panties you’ve got hugging your plush rump. it really hasn’t been that long since you’ve started working here, and he’s already this affected. the stirring in his shorts has him biting his lip. he’ll really have to do something about you soon.

the first chance julien gets is a week later. he makes sure to be the last one left in the locker room. he lingers, just in case you’ll be the one sent to tell him to hurry up.

and as always, he’s right.

a timid knock on the door has him sitting up straight on the bench, “come in.”

there you are. the sight of you makes his heart skip a few beats. all shy smiles and a dress he figures is meant to be modest but with proportions like that it’s hard to tell. “miss manager, my apologies for lingering. i’m just a bit, hmm, lost in thought?”

hook, line and sinker.

your eyes widen and you nod along, “i see. is there anything i can do for you?”

how sweet of you to be so concerned. and of course, an act of service is the first thing you ask about. he’s got you all figured out.

julien stretches his neck to the left and to the right, making sure to exaggerate enough. his voice is slightly strained, eyes half-lidded when they land back on you. “i’m just so beat after all this training for the world cup, you know? i a little worried all this exhaustion is going to weigh in on my performance on the field.”

he sees you panic slightly, and he has to force the corner of his lips down so he doesn’t end up smirking. of course, a dutiful manager wouldn’t want their players exhausted. the team’s poor performance will reflect badly on you, too. how will you get your fill of praise then?

“so, maybe there is something you could do,” he beckons you over, his chest warming up as you scramble to follow his direction, “my legs are really, really tense. i use them the most, right?

“would you mind massaging them for me?”

you visibly hesitate, your eyes jumping between his legs and his face, “shouldn’t i call a masseuse? i think they’re better suited for stuff like this-”

julien doesn’t pout, but he does the next best thing he knows works. his tone drops a few octaves, “i think a massage from a sweet girl like you will do wonders, ms. manager.”

maintaining eye contact, he reaches for your hand. slowly but surely he guides your more and more plaint form onto your knees. “right. that’s good. really good.”

“a good manager knows how to take care of their players,” he chuckles, “and you look like you know what you’re doing. how fortunate am i to be taken care of by such a devoted manager?”

your eyes flutter shut briefly before they widen back again. all the praise, the expectation and the promise of more is getting to you. julien can no longer help his smirk, which is now easier to hide away when your fingers finally make contact with the supple skin on his right calf as he can explain it away as relaxation. 

the sigh of relief he lets out sounds like something that could be included in those boyfriend asmr roleplays charles showed him a parody of some time ago. not that he watched those. or maybe he did, just to get a feel for what women liked to hear. never did he think it’d come in this handy because while you’re still on your knees, your legs press together. perhaps it’s a bit early, but the way your fingers dig into spots he really wasn’t lying were sore, even more praises spill past his lips while his grip on the edge of the bench tightens. “good girl.”

you pause briefly before resuming, your face turned away in what he assumes is shyness. as you move to the other leg, he decides it’s time to push it a little further.

“thighs too, please,” he urges, tone just as deep as before. and it also has the same effect as before, since you nod so eagerly he worries you might sprain your neck. “do you give massages often? you’re really good~” 

he drags the sentence on purpose. if someone were to hear him outside the door right now they might think you’re participating in a whole other type of activity. well, in a few minutes time they wouldn’t be wrong. 

his hardness is already straining against his boxers and shorts, for now still hidden away beneath the hoodie he’s pulled down so it won’t scare you away too quickly. it’s when you look up at him again, eyes wide and similar to how he saw you look at the coach the other day, your gaze is searching, searching for approval, for more praise. you don’t leave it at that, though.

“is it helping?”

had julien been a lesser man, he’d throw you right onto the bench and have his sweet sweet way with you. gaze so doe, so eager, so utterly at his mercy. and to think that all it took for you to get there was just a few well-timed and well-tuned words. darlings like you have always been his favorite.

so he nods, one of his hands reaching up to cup the back of your neck. his thumb rests right above your pulse. “it is. you’re really good at this, miss manager.

“but i can’t help feeling… stressed, still. a good manager knows how to help with that too, don’t you?”

his grip on your neck tightens as he brings your face closer between his legs. your knees shuffle against the floor as you try to accommodate the switch in position. the heat emitting from your face warms the inner part of his thighs. it’s then that he pulls his hoodie up, and the look of shock on your face is nearly enough to make him bust untouched. 

“you’ll continue being good, right? i’d hate for our sweet manager to lose her position because her star player is out of commission," he drawls, already prepared for having to play into your sense of duty. 

however, you quickly prove it’s not even necessary. your need to be good, to be praised is so strong he doesn’t need to guilt you into anything. a simple order is enough. oh, he’s going to have so much fun with you.

hips buck up into your touch when your delicate hands first land on his bulge, making him hiss. your cautious gaze earns you nod, permission to continue, and you do. shorts and boxers pulled down, he grins as you rub your thighs together once more, staring at the monster that is his cock. any worries that you won’t be able to take it, into your mouth or otherwise, are long gone from his mind. if he asks, you’ll do it. 

julien doesn’t know how it’s even possible, but he feels himself get infinitely harder when your lips make contact with his tip. thighs tensing together with the grip he still has on your neck, he has to bite his lip to prevent himself from making any embarrassing noises you seem to have an easy time pulling out of him. 

your lips wrap around him as you take the first bit into your mouth. tongue swirling while you suckle on him so gently warms his chest unfamiliarly. it’s no matter, he firmly guides you further down, the pleasure bubbling in his gut builds way faster than what he’s used to. 

“fuck-,” he sighs, taking a couple deep breaths to steady himself so his orgasm doesn’t wash over him right this instant. 

but then he meets your eyes, which seem to have been focusing on him for quite some time already. he doesn’t have the words to describe how you’re looking at him, except maybe that you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. as if on autopilot he guides you up and down his cock, the tiny slurps, the sucks and the little pop when you lose the suction all drive him a sort of insane he has a hard time getting used to. in a way, it seems like you’re the one in control, and he does not like that.

so his second hand joins the first on on the back of your head, and he thrusts. your gags are like music to his ears, and he relaxes knowing he’s regained at least some of his control back. with your hands bracing yourself against his thighs he pushes in a little further with each thrust, your eyes screwed shut while tears stream down your soft cheeks. had he been conscious enough, he’d grab his phone to take a picture in an instant. but alas, his memory will have to do.

a voice echoing down the hallway startles him, but knowing who it belongs to only has him going harder. your nails dig into his thighs, looking between you and the door, it doesn’t seem like you heard much over the constant slapping of his balls against your chin. 

so when the door opens, and vivien hugo gets an eyefull of julien throat-fucking his first love, the latter can’t help it when his orgasm finally does rock through him, and the heavy, creamy ropes of spend fill your throat and slide down into your belly.

julien keeps your head down, softening dick still lodged as far as it can be inside your throat while he keeps eye contact with the stunned vivien. no words are said, and you’re none the wiser as you try to keep yourself conscious by breathing through your nose, but nothing really needs to be said, does it?  it really was that easy to get you to obey him, and now vivien knows it, too.

‧₊˚☁️⋅♡𓂃ִֶָ࣪☾.

that is not how you expected your first week with the french national team to go. 

but julien was so sweet to you, it has you warm all over whenever you recall it, or even when you get as much as a glimpse of him while they train. so… right now. 

sat next to the coach on yet another startlingly hot spring day, you observe the master striker with hawk-like focus. noting down everything you can, from the way his legs move, whether he looks strained or if there’s any sign of distress on him anywhere. a bit of pride spreads in your chest when there’s no signs of any of those things. it means you did good. that the massage worked, and that you successfully relieved his stress. if you’re lucky, he’ll thank you again today. 

the thought of more affirmations causes an involuntary giggle, making the coach look over curiously. “something funny?”

back straight like a candle, you shake your head vehemently, “no, sir! not at all.”

he eyes you a second more, then looks back to the team. not sparing you another glance, he ushers you away, “get me a cup of coffee, black-”

“with two sweeteners,” you finish for him, already getting up. now it’s his time to chuckle, and the ‘smart girl’ muttered under his nose has you beaming as you basically skip over to the break room. crazy how much you can learn in a week. 

though, helping the players and the coach is not the only task you’ve got. unfortunately. tidying the storage room, possibly one of the worst tasks since all the equipment is usually just haphazardly thrown in there, is also on the list. 

stacking cones, finding all the disc cones among the rest of the crap you never even knew was of any importance, counting whether all of it has actually been gathered, gathering what they forgot. it’s tiring to even think about. 

but it’s their sighs of relief, their thanks when they come in the next time they have to train and find everything neater than they’ve ever seen it before that keeps you going. you’re so useful! 

the process of getting there, though, doesn’t really get easier because of it. once again you’re stuck in that cramped room with a bunch of mess. sweat forming at the brow, it’s useless to try and wipe it away as it returns mere moments later anyway, right back in your eye. 

you can hear some players still on the field, bickering and continuing their training beyond the coach’s instructions, continuously pushing themselves to the limit to make sure they’re in top shape. it’s admirable- a knock on the door.

the person doesn’t wait for an answer, they probably know you’re in there. a head of burgundy hair emerges from behind the door before the rest of his body follows. “good afternoon.”

the strange formality is humorous at best, a little uncomfortable at worst. you smile anyway, “hi, vivien. can i do anything for you?”

he nods, closing the door behind him, “yeah.”

you blink, he blinks, you blink at each other as you wait for him to elaborate. the look in his eyes is slightly haunted, especially when he looks down to your lips. eventually, he clears his throat, “i’m stressed.”

“would you like a massage? i gave one to julien-”

well, it turns out the only thing getting a massage would be your cunt. your chest pressed to the door of the storage room while he drags the tip of his cock over your pussy. steadily stroking your clit and down to your entrance. 

with your skirt bunched at your waist, panties shoved to the side your entire backside is on display for him. his eyes snap to your face, and only then does he finally push inside, laser-focused on your expression which only becomes more and more lewd with each inch he manages to force inside your cunt.

“that’s right, chérie,” he pants, the restraint in his voice adds something so erotic to it all it has your eyes rolling back, “i can feel the stress just melting away.”

it feels good, being useful. and what feels even better is his cock hitting your gspot head-on with each thrust he finally allows himself to indulge in. the moans slipping past your lips echo against the door, so he quickly stifles them by putting his hand over your mouth. “can’t have everyone knowing how good you’re being right now. they might get greedy.”

targeted? maybe. not like you’re in the right headspace to question it. your brain nearly melts out of your ears with each delicious stroke of all the sweet spots inside your tight cunt. he only becomes more and more relentless with his thrusts, his hand prevents you from chafing your cheek against the door. your moans have not stopped, though. and they get even louder when he spits on his other hand which he then brings to your twitchy clit, rubbing surprisingly steady circles on the bud.

the double stimulation has your body spasming in his hold, spit coating the inside of his hand while your mouth hangs open behind it. your hips weakly push back against him, chasing even more of the already overwhelming friction. with his chest pressed against your back as he ruts into you as if his life depends on it, he overwhelms all your senses. 

the hand on your mouth presses tighter, angling your head so you can look up at him. eyes hazy, you’re struggling to keep your focus. what you can see is that his own eyes are fixated on your face, strained breaths hit the apples of your cheeks while he uses your body to blow off steam.

tears gather at your waterline as his voice reaches your ears through the lustful haze, “such a perfect girl, aren’t you?”

you nod as much as his tight grip allows, crying harder when he continues, “all these years i’ve missed you, and now i have you.-” he angles his hips even better, the newfound pleasure nearly knocking you off balance, “you’re just as perfect as you were back then,  chérie.”

you try your best to warn him, hands gripping tight onto his forearm as you claw at it. your orgasm fast-approaching, you tap insistently against his arm. 

but it’s no use, it seems, he’s just as lost in it all as you are, and before you know it, a white-hot flash overwhelms you, legs shaking, eyes crossing. a steady stream of liquid squirts down to his balls and his pants which he only pulled down marginally to free his cock. your cunt spasms wildly, milking vivien for all he has to give. a warmth spreads inside you paired with something akin to a whimper in your ear. 

“good girl, such a good girl,” he rambles on, forehead leaning against your shoulder. his softening dick slips out, his cum following close behind. both of his arms hug you tightly against his chest, holding you up while you come down from your high. 

“wow,” you giggle breathlessly, “did it help?”

you feel him nod against your back, “i think i just ascended, chérie.”

a more insistent knock than vivien’s from about an hour ago startles you both. hesitantly you call out, “who’s there?”

“someone curious as to why the storage room sounds like it’s haunted by a pair of whimpering and moaning ghosts.” oh. it was julien.

‧₊˚☁️⋅♡𓂃ִֶָ࣪☾

the silence inside of vivien’s hotel room wasn’t familiar to either him or his friend currently occupying the other side of the couch. it’s been about a week since vivien’s had his turn with their pretty manager, his childhood crush, and ever since then a weird sort of air has hung around the two men. one that even their younger companion, charles, couldn’t get his head around. luckily, he’s absent from this strange ‘meeting’.

“for someone who called me over to talk, you sure aren’t taking much of an initiative,” julien jokes, “you normally talk so much, this is kind of uncanny.”

and he’s right. for the first time in a while vivien is at a loss for words. for years he’s imagined what it’d be like to talk to you, how he’d woo you, and how perfect of a boyfriend he’d be once he inevitably got you to be his girlfriend. fucking you in a storage room a week after he’s seen you take his friend’s dick down your throat was never something he imagined, and still doesn’t know how to deal with.

seeing that vivien is making no moves to start talking, julien takes it as his opportunity to do so. “i was right, was i not?

“she takes orders like it’s nothing and soaks up praise like i’ve never seen a woman do before,” julien marvels. “honestly, at first i was ready to be like ‘oh, well if i perform badly it’ll be your fault yadda yadda’ but that wasn’t even necessary! i just had to be smart with guiding her and she did it!”

a smirk spreads across his face, “besides, you saw it for yourself.”

vivien can only nod. he did see it. experienced it too. 

“want me to tell you what it was like?” vivien asks, finally looking up at his friend. “i did what you did.”

“you fucked her face?” he’s met with a shake of the head. “you had sex with her?”

then vivien nods, “right. it was good.”

“just good?” julien chuckles.

“phenomenal,” the red-head whispers, “phe-no-me-nal.”

a beat of silence passes while the two hold eye contact. julien then asks the most important question of all. 

“you waited so long for her and are now just… okay with me saying and doing all this?”

vivien doesn’t answer right away. it is true; he’s waited so long for you only to watch you deepthroat his friend. and yet, just as he did when he was first made aware of your presence and identity, he can’t bring himself to feel jealous. 

you were destined for him, as much as he was destined to play football with julien. both of you are his destiny, be that one way or another. and while he doesn’t particularly view julien in a romantic light, if you were to do so… as long as he remained in your life as well, all would be good.

so vivien nods, telling julien as much. “you’re both destined to be in my life. if anything, i mind sharing her with you the least.” 

that has julien’s brows raising, “are you implying a throuple?”

“i’m implying i’ll be fine with anything she chooses,” vivien corrects him, “as long as it’s one of us.”

“of course,” julien laughs, “sick fuck. what if it’s neither?”

vivien leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. it’d look comical if the words that left his mouth next weren’t said in a tone so bone chilling it even rattled someone like julien. 

“then we make it so it’s either.”

the younger man can’t say he disagrees with that approach.

as for a plan? well, there’s only theory testing until something sticks. they only have so much time they can stall before and after practice, since the stadium does have opening and closing times. so, the next best thing? vivien’s hotel room. especially since they can’t risk being seen out with you in a non-professional setting. too many fans who could, and would, say something upsetting to their new- or not so new, sweetheart. 

plan set in motion, it’s a few days later when vivien catches you at the end of your standard storage room clean. heat creeps up his neck and face as he remembers your teary eyes, glazed over with mind-numbing pleasure. beyond impatient to bring that look back onto your face, he knocks on the door frame. “hello there.”

your startled expression has his lips twitching upwards. arms crossed over his chest, he leans his shoulder on the frame, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

“oh, it’s okay!” you wave him off, “i’m almost finished, if you have a moment.”

he’d give you a lifetime, if you so allowed. or even if you didn’t. besides, the sight of you bending over in that little sundress he believes the coach only allows you to wear because he, too, enjoys the view is definitely appreciated. 

just as you put away the last ball into the rack, your brilliant smile nearly knocks the breath out of him. “right! how can i help?”

somehow, someway you manage to look marvelous even under the glaring cold lights of a storage room way too cramped for such a big stadium. blinking fast a couple times he manages to finally get something going. though, your doe eyes, full of curiosity and excitement as you anticipate what he’s going to ask of you certainly don’t make it any easier.

“the stadium closes soon,” he states. your brows twitch upwards, but you nod along.

“right.”

“right,” he nods, “i still need help.”

“with?”

off to the side a groan echoes. with quick steps following, julien appears next to vivien, a look of frustration prominent in spite of him trying his best to disguise it.

“we’d like to invite you for dinner,” julien says for him, “we’re still really nervous, you see.”

the concerned expression that takes over your features has vivien cooing internally. you’re so sweet, always so concerned for them… not to worry, he’ll make sure you never have to worry again, as long as you agree to be theirs.

unsurprisingly, you agree right away. 

just as the security goes around telling people to scram, vivien and julien usher you into the latter’s car. situated comfortably in the passenger seat next to the driver, julien, vivien sees you marvel at the expensive interior from his spot in the back. “you look like you’ve never been in one of these.”

“because i haven’t!” you bounce a little in your red leather chair, “it’s all so clean and stuff. my car is far from this comfortable.”

julien smiles at you, his tone unusually chipper, “you could have this a lot more often, amour.”

the term of endearment spills past his lips with so much ease that if vivien wasn’t privy to what was actually going on, he’d assume you were julien’s long-time girlfriend. or at least someone he dearly cherished. not just a girl who’s only recently become his object of… well, obsession, really.

both vivien and julien have been working overtime trying to find out everything they possibly could about you. every social media account, where you moved when you left him when you were both 7. everything they’d need to know about just how you like to live your life, and everything you might need once you stay with them. 

it was also definitely helpful to know that there was no man present in your life that could potentially intercept their little plan.

in spite of the rather bold endearment julien threw at you, you’re still too busy marveling at the car’s interior and the confusion on his friend’s face at your lack of a reaction is humorous enough to draw a chuckle out of him. 

they both share a look through the rearview mirror; your lack of attention on them confirms that they might need to employ a different kind of tactic.

‧₊˚☁️⋅♡𓂃ִֶָ࣪☾

if julien’s car wasn’t impressive enough, the opulence of vivien’s hotel room is even more so. “why a hotel room?” you question, leaving your shoes by the door. the whole space is lined with gold detailing; not to mention the whole thing is a separate living room, bedroom and you assume there’s a bathroom somewhere as well. and yet, amidst all this opulence, it’s the chocolate fountain that catches your attention.

“i play for an english team,” vivien explains. “so i’m only here for the qualifiers, and until we all leave for the world cup.”

the explanation is no use, you’re long since distracted by the fountain of life. you’ve already worked away two fresh strawberries oh-so conveniently stored next to it. third one is already under the stream. with a mouthful, you can’t help gushing about the rich flavors, “woah, i could stay fed on these forever!”

your mouth full of the sweet treat, the look the two men share behind your back goes partially unnoticed. except for the split second in which you see them in the reflection of the gold-plated painting frame.

you turn your head, fourth strawberry between your teeth, “what was it you needed help with?”

both guys stare at you, one more fondly than the other, and a beat of silence passes only broken by the crunchy bite of the strawberry. julien then smiles, “it can wait. we can rest for now, can we not? you worked so hard, mon chou.”

you simply nod along, licking your fingers clean, “sounds good.”

the couch is probably the most comfortable thing you’ve had the pleasure of sitting on, and the warmth of the two men sitting on both your sides just add onto the already sleepy feeling that has been creeping up on you since you even set foot in julien’s car. he’s right, you do work hard! the sound of vivien getting back up from the couch has you looking over. he’s changed so much since you were kids. sure, he still has that monotone expression of his that used to irritate you to no end while he was preaching about you being meant for one another, but he’s definitely grown. a lot. 

“what’d you like, chérie?” he asks, grabbing three glasses from the bar. “we’ve got water, cider-”

“just water, please,” you melt into the couch even more, “those strawberries were really sweet..”

your eyes flutter shut, your body unconsciously leaning towards the man who’s still on your left. when you open them again, facing julien, you find him already looking down at you. head propped up on his arm, arm leaning on the backrest. “sleepy girl, aren’t you?”

you nod, leaning in when his other hand comes up to cup your cheek, “very.”

“we’re really happy with you, y’know,” vivien speaks up, the glass clinking against the hardwood coffee table as he sets down your requested water. “we’re really lucky to have such a sweet, helpful manager.”

heat creeps up your neck, ears burning. “thank you,” you mumble, cheek smushed into julien’s hand. vaguely glancing at the table, you manage to grab your glass, bringing it to your lips. it’s cold and refreshing enough to wake you up a little. you gulp down a bit more before you set the glass back down, your back once again against the backrest so you wouldn’t be so rudely turned away from vivien. 

the couch seems to just swallow you whole as the awake feeling passes pretty much as soon as it registered. the warmth from being sat between the two men who don’t really seem to understand the concept of personal space also doesn’t help. a touch to the top of your head has you looking for the source, and you find it in vivien, whose gaze is so intense it’d cause you to cower in any other scenario. and yet, right now, embraced by them both, which you have no idea when it even happened, you find yourself leaning in more and more into the affection. a pout forms on your lips, confusion marring your thoughts. “so.. what did you need?” 

being sleepy has never stopped your willingness to help, and the smile you see spreading over vivien’s face triggers that eagerness all over again. sitting up straighter, you tilt your head curiously. “that’s why i’m here, no?”

“yeah,” vivien nods, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “it is.”

from behind, julien’s hand reaches over to turn your head. before you can question it, his lips are on yours. a flurry of emotions passes through you. the excitement of being needed, the lust building from his scalding hot touch is all too much for your hazy mind. but what is vivien if not a gentle giant. his hands find your waist and his lips settle on your neck. at least you figure that’s the case since you’re pretty sure it’s julien who’s kissing you right now. 

with gentle, ushering touches you’re shifted onto julien’s lap, his hands traveling up and down your sides until they settle on your soft breasts. he massages them, drawing the sweetest noises from you all while swallowing them. the parting of your lips gets taken advantage of immediately, julien’s tongue meets yours gently yet firmly. 

his hand intercepts vivien’s onslaught on your neck by cupping the nape, tilting your head upwards. breaking away from the kiss, he looks down at your fluttering, hazy eyes and spits. his golden eyes widen as he watches you swallow it down without even being told to. “oh, mon chou…”

behind you, vivien seems impatient to get in on the action as well. as if a mere doll for them to maneuver, you’re turned around again as your lips are claimed once more, this time by the red head. it doesn’t seem to be the end of being manhandled as you’re forced to hold onto vivien for dear life when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. in any other scenario you may have been outraged at how easily he does it, but the muscles rippling beneath your touch and his shirt give you a sense of security. you can only figure the destination is the bedroom as your back hits the third of the softest surfaces of the day. the mattress dips on the other side as well, julien not far behind. 

while vivien’s tongue explores every corner of your mouth, a chill passes over your abdomen. warm hands push up the hem of your dress, then continue exploring your legs and especially- your inner thighs.

vivien’s hands aren’t slacking either, your tits haven’t been touched this much… well, ever. in between the overwhelming affection over both the lower- and top part of your body, your gut churns with heat. the amount of slick pooling from your cunt would be embarrassing any other day, but right now you’re barely left with half a mind to care. especially not when you hear jullien choke on his breath, the usually controlled master striker brought to his knees near the edge of the bed as he’s faced with your slicked-up pussy. the panties are rendered useless, the white fabric now sheer due to the arousal dripping from between your puffy lips. 

your hips buck into his touch as he runs a finger over the soaked fabric, whispering a stunned: “dude, you’ve got to see this.”

albeit begrudgingly, vivien separates from you and the heat of your kiss, a string of saliva still connecting you while his void eyes eat up the sight of you already so fucked-out. “how are you this gorgeous?”

your neck and face are already burning up, and the reverence in his gaze only makes it worse. “vivi..!” you whine, already needy for him, or julien, to kiss you again. you’re not awarded that privilege just yet.

instead, vivien gets off the bed, eyes zeroing in where julien has already been rubbing his thumb over with the hope of easing even more slick out of your heat. both men now wide-eyed and impossibly hard, share a look. “i’m going first-” they both start at the same time.

you try to close your legs, desperate to ease the insistent ache they’re making no moves to sate, only for an iron grip to keep holding them open. perhaps it’s because they pity you, or are both way too desperate themselves, one of them peels the sticky fabric off of you. you don’t have the energy to even prop yourself up on your elbows, but even unable to see what’s going on, you can feel them both near where you need them most. 

with a thud, vivien joins his friend on his knees, and they both take charge of holding one leg up to expose your fluttering pussy to their hungry eyes, and even hungrier mouths.

none of the men you’ve ever been with have wanted anything to do with eating pussy, so the sensation of two tongues licking and mouths sucking nearly has your soul leaving your body. the warm, wet muscles glide over your clit, pushing the hood up so the other can get better access- it all has your eyes rolling back so far into your skull they might just get stuck.

“f-fuck-,” you babble, drool slipping down the corner of your mouth, “‘s too much..!”

one of them nips on the inside of your thigh, and it’s julien’s voice that reaches your ears, “silly girl. i thought you wanted to help? we’re busy de-stressing, are we not?”

the question is directed at vivien, you imagine, as his voice follows, “we are. just be good, okay? we’re trying to focus.”

they both return to their ministrations, now with the addition of someone’s fingers prodding at your entrance. the sheets next to your head are really put through the wringer as you claw at them, seeking any kind of stability amidst what you imagine drowning in pleasure is like. just as two digits slide right into you with no resistance whatsoever, even more slick gushes right out of you as your first orgasm of the night rocks through your body violently. the men are forced to hold you down with all they can as you thrash, tears spilling over your cheeks while they help you ride out your orgasm with both tongues and fingers alike. 

“good girl,” vivien purrs, “i missed how stunning you look when you cum.”

the pleasure soon borders on painful as they don’t let up, sucking two more orgasms out of you that exact same way. each time wringing a steady stream of slick down their chins and hands.

you’re damn-near passed out, and yet just as they press their final kisses to your cunt, you hear fabric hitting the floor. as you force your eyes to open, the image of two naked men who could definitely be sculpted by the gods themselves stand at your feet. your body wrung out and pliant, covered in a layer of sweat laid before them while they eye you like you’re the finest of desserts. while already familiar with what julien’s cock looks like, his size is still beyond impressive. and scary. you’ve already felt what it’s like having vivien inside of you, and the thought of experiencing it again has your used-up pussy throbbing again. 

too tired to move, the men take pity on you as vivien lays on his back, leaning against the headboard. carefully, they make you straddle him. 

vivien doesn’t waste a second before his lips are back on yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue. in a moment of tenderness, he holds you close, pressing your chest to his while he lays you down on him completely. one arm held over your waist, his free hand lines his dick up with your weeping core. with clear restraint, he pushes in, mumbling praises against your lips, “oh, chérie.. you’re a dream, aren’t you?”

“the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted,” he sighs, “now taking my cock like she was always meant too.”

“you mean only pussy you’ve ever tasted,” julien can’t help poking at his friend.

it all flies over your head, your brain melting out of your ears as vivien starts moving. both his hands hold onto your hips as he does all the work, merely holding you in place so you’re comfortable while taking the horsecock he knows he has. “such a perfect pussy, just meant for our cocks.”

behind you, you feel julien spreading your asscheeks, and a bit of spit lands right between your holes before you feel a finger prod into your pussy, right next to vivien’s dick. albeit heavily subdued, your heart skips a beat as a bit of panic sets in. you’re already stretched to the brim, sure he’s not thinking-

but he is. the tip of his cock soon replaces his finger, the heavy pressure overtakes the pleasure for a second before he pops in, a deep sigh leaving both men while a fresh batch of tears runs down your hot cheeks. 

“o-oh my god-,” your mouth hangs open, the fullness clouding all of your remaining fullness. you only get a moment of respite before both men start moving again, not a single spot inside your tightness remains untouched while they both fight for who gets closer to your cervix.

“that’s right,” julien pants, hands kneading your ass while he uses them as leverage to thrust deeper and deeper. “made for us, aren’t you mon chou?”

you can only nod, your toes curling from the pleasure while you bury your head between vivien’s pecs; something he doesn’t let you get away with for long. he nudges your head upwards with his thumb, locking your lips once more. 

the heat on your back increases as julien leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. he hits deeper and deeper- or is it vivien? you’ve lost the distinction. no matter where you want to look, one of them is there. the smell of their colognes mingles together, making everything around you so distinctly them.

no one was prepared for how intense this whole exchange would be, and neither of the guys is able to hold back form speeding up as their respective orgasms creep up on them. julien reaches over, squeezing your breasts while he speeds up alongside vivien. his strained voice brushes right over your ear, “gonna cum, yeah? you’ll let us cum inside, right? you’re good like that.”

lips still on vivien’s, you somehow manage a nod. the waterfalls on your cheeks have not stopped. more and more tears drip down to your chin and onto vivien’s chest. julien seems unable to hold himself back from licking up your tears, his pace intensifying as he tastes your overwhelm on his tongue. 

vivien cups your cheeks, pulling you away from him. “need to see you, okay? wanna see you as we fill you up, chérie.”

you nod, the knot in your belly releasing at the same time as it does for julien. the sight of your face contorting in mind-numbing pleasure, together with knowing you’re being filled by julien- vivien cums too. a deep groan comes from behind you while vivien’s familiar whimpers spill past his lips. 

there’s not a single bit of coherence left in your mind while you’re being filled with the last spurts of cum vivien and julien have to give you. they keep you like that until their softening cocks slip out on their own; your spasming cunt pushing them out. 

your soft, used-up body lands on vivien, whose hands are on every part of you at once it seems. another pair of hands spreads your cheeks again and the shutter of a camera echoes through the room. 

you vaguely hear vivien in disbelief, “really?”

followed by julien chuckling, “if you saw what i’m seeing you’d be commissioning a life-sized painting. i’m just doing you a favor.”

‧₊˚☁️⋅♡𓂃ִֶָ࣪☾

the weight of your sleeping body on his is so comforting, vivien has a hard time laying you back onto the sheets instead. “run a bath, won’t you?”

“already on it,” julien throws over his shoulder as he enters the ensuite. 

vivien’s gaze has never left you. instead, it’s been traveling down every crevice, every fold and every little bruise their tight grips on you have left. unable to withstand the urge, he gently spreads your legs again, now met with the mess they made. white spend oozes from between your legs in copious amounts, coating your puffy and swollen folds in their cream. his mouth waters at the sight, he nearly gives in to the need to clean you up with his mouth- but julien is back. 

begrudgingly, he turns to julien. “what do you think?”

“yeah, she’s ours,” julien shrugs, as if merely stating a fact. which, he was. “i’m not even entertaining her choosing just one of us. unless it’s me, i guess.”

his nonchalant statement has vivien’s eyes narrowing briefly, and he’s ready to question how serious the ace is about who he believes is the love of his life- but there’s a glint in those golden eyes, and it’s enough to placate him for now.

his eyes find you again, as have julien’s. your tearstained face is akin to a renaissance painting, and neither of them can look away. the bath being filled and ready fades to the back of their minds as vivien runs a hand over your damp forehead. “you really were made to be mine, weren’t you, mon cœur?”

it’s not matter that you can’t hear him, you’ll learn soon enough that your duties are going to be far from managerial from now on. all that’s left to figure out is how to get you to resign. 

“getting her fired will make her upset,” julien speaks up, as if reading vivien’s mind. "it's best if we convince her to resign.”

vivien pinches your cheek gently, “i don’t mind her getting upset. she’s going to stay with us either way, we can make her forget.”

the striker chuckles, “and i thought i was the cruel one.”

Fyodor took every liberty, taking you out the dinner-buying you the beautiful night gown your currently wearing. Laying you down gently he spreads your legs.

"Just relax for me dear-let me prepare you." He whispers while unlacing the back of your nightgown, sliding it off and positioning himself between your legs. It caused a surge of adrenaline and pride to course through Fyodor's brain and body when hearing you've never done something so sinful before. It made him feel all the more special as he kisses down your thighs. Soft gasps rush out your lips causing a small chuckle from him. "Is this okay, darling?" Fyodor's mouth hovers over your clit, tongue darting out for a fleeting taste. You quickly nod, it was embarrassing to feel so exposed but you trust him.

"Y-Yes Fyodor.." You moan out as he devours you, in all honesty Fyodor was and is a greedy man. So in time of weakness when something delicious such as yourself is taking center stage he just cant rip his gaze away. And you where beautiful, so sweet to the taste,

Fyodor simply couldn't stop his gluttony. You tug at his hair when a 'strange' feeling erupts in your stomach, it felt similar to Butterflies, like a buildup of something incredible. Fyodor's thumb rubs tight circles on your clit while his tongue was drinking you up, thrusting in and out of your tight hole. His thumb speeds its movements when you buck your hips and let out a particularly loud moan.

"F-Feels weird-A-ah~" And suddenly the knot in your stomach snaps, hot white pleasure coursing through you in waves. First your legs shake then your clit hurts from his thumb's continued efforts. Except Fyodor continues until your breathlessly sobbing and begging, after all what kind of man would he be to not pleasure you first? And the sight of your tears, of course he would never admit it-but it horribly turns him on.

"You exhilarate me princess, oh the sight of you like this makes me what to keep you for an eternity." Fyodor preaches while undoing his belt, not bothering to wipe his wet chin. His finger's dip into your entrance, prodding and scissoring. "Oh I know my dearest~" He coos. "I know it hurts, just place your trust in me." Fyodor pulls out his fingers to lick them clean before he pumps his now bare cock a couple times. If his fingers hurt such a small thing like you, how would his cock feel? Oh it was far too bigger than you imagined and thicker to. The very sight made you tear up.

"S'Too big." Fyodor positions himself at your weeping cunt.

"You can take it, I know you can." Fyodor slowly presses himself inside you, his tip getting sucked into your tight walls. He tips his head back and a breathy moan escapes him. He knew you'd be tight, but he never expected how pleasurable you truly felt.

"Your doing so well, you feel so good-" Fyodor chokes at the end of his sentence as he stops a whimper from falling out of his lips,

"Cough-You feel-r-ravishing..." He pecks your lips and slowly rocks his hips, admiring how soft and fragile you look under him. How drool dribbles down your chin-or the way your teeth marked your bottom lip. It was all so very perfect.

The only flawed thing was how needy he himself was, it would be utter embarrassment if he came before you. Fyodor props your legs over his shoulders and thrusts faster into you, abusing your cunt and g-spot.

"Does this feel better darling?" You answer with a squeal-like-moan.

"F-y-fyo~" You stammer out while cumming, Fyodor throws his head back, Adams apple bobbing in his throat while he cums as well. Filling you up with his hot release, only then does he slow to a stop, nuzzling into your neck.

"Are you alright?" Fyodor whispers, soft kisses are made under your ear, on your jawline, and down to your collarbone.

"Mhm..." You hum in agreement, dazed from the newfound pleasure. Once hearing that he leans back and slowly starts up again.

It was a slow morning which starts with you remembering its your husband's rare day off. Getting out of bed the smell of breakfast wafts through the bedroom. Fyodor stands in the kitchen cooking away while you walk out to greet him.

"Good morning Fyodor, dear." You murmur, hugging him from behind while Fyodor smirks.

"Your beauty is quite distracting my love. I might burn your food." He says back while platting the last pancake. "Here." He turns and kisses your forehead before gently pushing you off to hand you some food.

"I'd rather eat you~"

"Your being such a tease this morning, lyubov." Fyodor chuckles and sits down. "We both know you're all bark and no bite."

The conversation continues as you both enjoy the breakfast. Once you finished you prepare to plan an activity for the two of you but Fyodor already took out the chess board.

"Love..." You whine. "You know how dreadful I am at chess!"

"Don't fret, I can attempt to go easy on you." Fyodor sets it up and you take your seat across from him.

☆○o☆○o☆○o☆○o☆○o☆○o☆○o☆○o

Nearly 2 hours later Fyodor is baffled. "My love, my dearest. In all appropriate respect you're playing like a beginner. Not even a beginner would play like that in actuality." He captures your king in only 2 moves.

"Oh you're just teasing." You quip back, resetting the board. Within the next 5 moves Fyodor spies a checkmate but passes on it, allowing you to get the win. "I did it! See? It appears you lost against a 'beginner'"

The day you met Fyodor was over 1,000 years ago but the memory was as vivid as ever.

You were sitting by the lake, looking into the ripples when a boy, roughly around your age approaches. His eyes were sparkling with youth and his hair was neatly chopped to no longer than his ears. Wearing a cloth tunic that was soaked from the river he sits by your side, his Russian accent was thick to the point that you could barely understand.

"I am... not ent-irly familiar to this ahem... place" He often stumbled and paused throughout words. Despite all this his voice one of grace and his posture straight. "My... name I-is Fyodor, who might you-... be..?"

When you respond Fyodor nods before quietly saying, "S-sorry-you talk quite fast, could you please may chance rep-eate yourself?" Embarrassment crowds over your very being when you realize how truly bad he was with English. Saying your introduction slower a smile brightens his face.

A couple beats of awkward silence later you speak up. "You don't seem to be much of a garrulous boy." Words leave your mouth and its just a bit late when you think back to see how rude it sounded. "Not that I uhm-expected you to be."

A smile is still splayed on his face however which makes you wonder how much of the sentence he actually understands. Small giggles leave your mouth as you spout explanations and he starts to laugh as well.

· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·

The next day you arrive back at that very same spot, this time sporting a basket to pick wild flowers. Even though last time your mother had scolded you the petals where far too delicate to ignore. Kneeling down you are about to pluck one when a hand swatted you away. It was Fyodor-

"Poison" He says quickly, kneeling down and picking a different flower instead.

"I suppose now I should thank you." A breath of quiet relief exits your lips. "I apologize for my rashness." The boy puts only the most beautiful flowers into your basket. "I must inquire, do you arrive here every afternoon?" You earn a nod from him, a boy of few words.

The afternoons in which you met slowly turn into tea, then brunch. And soon when he aged until 14 and you 12 he approaches your father with a marriage proposal.

The boy you once knew is now a young man, with hair slicked back and wearing only the finest of tailored attire. His smile never wavering and politeness never ceasing.

Fyodor leaves the room with a strained smile, kissing your hand he whispers a promise.

"No matter how many times your father throws me out and spews hatred, I will always come back to you. Do you understand me?" His breath is warm against your wrist.

You quickly nod before pressing your lips against his cold forehead.

࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖ 𖦹°⋆࣪ ˖࣪°⋆

It was the fifth time this month Fyodor's heart broke. Four of those times were when your father physically punched him out of the house and the last was when you where declared to marry a man. You were at age 14 while your pronounced husband was 18.

Life was far from fair and soon this affair that you are currently having with the love of your life had to come to a close. The night you planned to break it off with Fyodor however he started crying at your feet. Babbling words in Russian and some in English in the point of mushed sentences.

You just couldn't do it, he looked so desperate. His bangs no longer slicked back but now stuck to his face from tears and sweat. Fyodor's usual manners fled from his body before you even had the chance to pull away.

But you couldn't disobey your father. as much as you wished and ached to run away with him neither of you have the money nor the power to do so.

The night of your wedding a veil is placed over you and your soon-to-be-husband John's head. The priests words slurred and buzzed in your ears before you say without wit or confidence;

"I do."

John said the same and before you could believe it your property once more. Given from your father to your husband all you can hope for is his kindness. Regret pools deep within your chest as the ceremony ends, you should've went with Fyodor. You should've let him sweep you off your feet, but you're just a cowardly fool.

Leading now to your new home, you and John walk to the bed.

"We shan't do anything you're not planning to consent to. The day was tiring and the night is still young." He says while sitting you on the bed "I shall be sleeping in this bed however." A stiff nod is all you can give.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

Eyelids heavy with sleep open to the sound of crunching and panting. The room was pitch black, the curtain's drawn shut to hide away the moon. Your heart beats throughout your chest and a nagging voice says to you, Go back to sleep don't light the oil lamp-just pull the sheets tight over yourself. The feeling suddenly floods your mind as a warm liquid wets your fingers on John's side of the bed. A metallic sent fills the air before you scream.

The panting grows louder as a warm and wet hand covers your mouth and muffles your yells. Warm air brushes against your neck and a nose nuzzles into it.

"Shh" The figure shushes your mouth, "Your safe now..." That voice, Fyodor.

John wasn't a bad guy, you were forced into the marriage sure. He is someone you've only met barely a day ago-but your father wasn't insane for making you marry him. John had money, the amount that would make a person woozy. The amount someone like your elderly parents would never be able to add up to even if they never spent a cent. Not to mention how the man showed no interest in you. John was bland and boring but he was young as well! And now he was dead, stabbed and sliced to pieces while the murder was laying, sweating on top of you

Fyodor was you closest comrade for the longest time but that doesn't excuse the rabbit hole he now deprived himself into. The hole of neediness that could never possibly be filled is what laced into both of your hearts, but you needed this opportunity. This chance to supply for your family and now your future is gone. A mix of anger, confusion, betrayal, and fear rattle you to your core and all you can manage to do is close your eyes and pray to a higher being.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

In the morning you're still awake, Fyodor already fell soundly asleep while you were stuck with the feeling of blood drying on your skin and hair. Cautiously you take a daring glance next to you to see the remnants of John, if you could even call it that. He seemed to be more on the walls and knife than he was on the bed. Vomit rises in your through and you force it back down, opting instead to bury your face in Fyodor's coat. Why did this have to happen this way?

The murder was still asleep and the evidence was still scattered around, you needed to get help. This blood on your clothes wouldn't help you out either. If you clean up you'd seem even more guilty-thoughts swim through your brain and before you could even process it you sat up. Fyodor's body slumps over and he mumbles and groans before waking up slowly.

The corridor and stairs led you on cruelly before you make it to your neighbors house, sharp rocks stuck onto your shoeless feet. The wife who answered the door screamed as you collapse in front of her out of pure exhaustion and pain.

Everything hurts-everything is blurry-whats the point of living anyway if that life I had could never ever return..?

The wife let you cry and shake on the ground while her husband and son venter into your house, and come out some time later with Fyodor in their grasps. He looks over at you in hopes of help and validation but you swiftly look away, opting instead to vomit into a bucket. You could feel his hurt as the sound of heals scraping against the dirt path is heard.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

The kind family lets you live with them for a couple days while you recover from the shock and fear. The adrenaline from the moments of you running 2 days prior had blotted out the twisted ankle you apparently got before you even arrived at the house. Despite all of this pain and grief you still arrived at the beheading ceremony of your first and last love, Fyodor Dostoevsky.

The son whose named William was about 5 years older helps you to the beheading, lending you a hand on getting you to the front of the crowd. At the sight of your love tears prick your eyes and fall down your face.

Fyodor's usually dashing face must've received a good beating from the looks of both of his black eyes. His usually pale skin was now purple from bruises and red from blood, you really couldn't bare the sight of him.

A beautiful flower you left out in the rain for far too long now had wilted and soon will die, its all your fault.

William offered you little comfort as you turn away from the bloody sight. It didn't take only one swing to fully behead him, all that anyone could hear is his pained screams. Finally they stop and you look back only to wail at the sight of his body. William holds your hand close to his chest, a gentle sign. But you're quick to slip from his grasp, no matter who it was everyone around you seemed to be cursed with the worst of luck. You were determined to not let him be cursed as well.

Before you have the chance to sprint out of the room everyone starts to scream. Your neck hurts at the speed you reeled back to look at Fyodor and his executioner. However-his executioner's skin was being ripped off and underneath it was Fyodor once more. Terror filled you, your lungs and your knees which soon buckle. William grabs you by your arm and swiftly picks you up, running out of the room.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Fyodor is a man as beautiful and intelligent as he was prideful, a man such as himself would never let himself be double crossed. You were sure a man like Fyodor would find you once more, to never let you die-and he was a wizard, a sinner who uses magic. The devil sent him down to rain horror on both common folk and royalty. But it wasn't just that you care about.

The letter you hold gets quickly tossed into the fireplace, a letter detailing how both your parents are found to be murdered. Perhaps Fyodor was always like this. You think to yourself while staring down at your hands, they used to be soft from pampering and now they're rough and calloused from work.

"John, Mother, Father, you all died for the curse I had around me I shan't let anyone else die!"

You exclaim to yourself as you slam open the door, not paying any mind to waking up Willam, his parents, or his siblings. You rush to the cliffside, looking down below. Swallowing your courage you force your eyelids closed before swiftly making the decision to jump.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟

It seems no matter it be an iron bullet, a sword, or a 1,000 foot drop no matter how much you try to die you never do. Throughout all your trials, the city in which you lived called 'witch'. The ax hurt beyond imaginable but it never did kill you.

Life passes, William dies and so does his parents, soon you meet another girl before she passes too. Years upon years pass whisk you away. Time is often spent under the water, drowning hurts but seeing the fish from beneath was a beautiful experience. The pond in which you met Fyodor was buried underneath a sky scraper and soon your travels lead you to Japan.

Walking throughout the streets you find a tea shop, your pockets overflowing with money you decide to check it out. While walking through the door you bump into a man who appears to be in his earlier to mid 20s.

You stand sheepishly, "Sorry sir-" your words get caught and a lump forms in your throat as your eyes catch his.

"Fyodor..?"

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

if you're sitting beside him, eventually you'll notice the gap between you somehow disappeared.

he's a huge fan of side-by-side cuddling while doing separate things. he'll be reading a book while you're scrolling on your phone, but your legs are tangled together and his arm is around your waist.

fyodor absolutely uses cuddling as an excuse to steal your body heat.

he runs cold all the time.

if you're warm, congratulations. you've become his personal heater.

he prefers being the big spoon more often than not.

partly because he likes having you close.

partly because he likes knowing exactly where you are.

however, if he's exhausted, he'll let you hold him.that's actually one of the biggest signs of trust from him.

fyodor isn't someone who relaxes easily, so willingly curling up against you and letting you take care of him says a lot.

he enjoys having his hair played with far more than he'll admit.the first time you run your fingers through his hair and he unconsciously leans into your hand, he'll immediately realize what he did and pretend it never happened.

you notice.

he knows you notice.

neither of you mention it.

when he's working, he'll sometimes pull you into his lap if he doesn't want you wandering off somewhere else.

he'll claim it's more convenient.it's not.he just likes having you there.if you're upset, cuddling becomes much more intentional.

he'll quietly open his arms and wait.

no dramatic speech.

no asking questions right away.

just silent comfort until you're ready to talk.

fyodor isn't very vocal during cuddles.

he's not constantly saying sweet things.

instead, he'll show affection through little actions like adjusting a blanket around you, rubbing circles on your arm, or pressing a kiss to the top of your head when he thinks you're asleep.

he definitely notices if you're the type who constantly seeks physical affection.

if you always end up in his lap, on his shoulder, or curled against his side, he'll start expecting it.

eventually he'll get confused if you don't cuddle him.he won't ask about it directly.

but he'll definitely keep glancing at you wondering why you're sitting so far away.

despite his usual composed nature, fyodor becomes surprisingly possessive during sleepy cuddles.

if someone tries waking you up while you're comfortably asleep against him, they're getting a very unimpressed stare.

he considers disturbing your nap a personal offense.

overall, fyodor's cuddling style is quiet, subtle, and intimate.

he's not the type to smother you with affection.

he's the type who pulls you a little closer, tucks a blanket around both of you, and acts like he has absolutely no idea why you're smiling.

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SFW

Despite what most people think, I believe if you're dating this man he's completely in love with you to the point of no return.

He wouldn't put himself through the trouble of being in a relationship with someone if his sole purpose was manipulation—he knows how to get his way without putting himself in unwanted situations, especially if it's pretending to be in love with someone he isn't.

He fails to accept he's fallen for you at first, not that he doesn't understand what he's feeling but rather the fact that he hates remembering he's human too.

He watches you a lot from afar before he even considers confessing in any way, analysing if you're really worth it and what he feels for you is truly real.

He'd prefer someone who sees the world similarly to his idea of it, but not someone who agrees with everything he says blindly. He loves hearing what you have to say and debate with him; it only makes him fall for you harder.

It takes him a long time before he says anything about his feelings, wanting to know for sure if anything were to happen it wouldn't end, he doesn't like the idea of getting that close with another person just to potentially be strangers with them in the future. 

Getting used to physical touch is something he struggles at first, but something in him also yearns to be close to you. He gets used to it after some time and appreciates you being patient with him.

Avoids arguing with you if he can, I do believe he's the type to feel uneasy if he felt like you were upset with him. It only makes him lose his focus and he doesn't like having his attention being diverted when he has a goal to complete.

If you work with him, he loves pulling all-nighters with you by his side, as you hack into confidential government documents.

The breaks you take consist of going out to the balcony and slowly make out while the entire city sleeps, unaware of its impending doom.

He thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on and the best thing to ever happen to him, you can see it in his eyes as he drinks in the sight of you under the moonlight. 

He loves kissing you, finding it to be one of the things which eases his nerves; and he regrets taking so long before he first did. Bonus points if he gets to slip his tongue in.

When he thinks deeply of it, he does find the idea of marriage illogical in the legal sense, but subconsciously entertains the idea of you two being bound together in a way people see as sacred. 

Would propose if he realised that's what you wanted.

Once he's certain of your devotion to him, you're his top priority and would never do something to endanger you, he always finds a way to keep you safe no matter how impossible it may seem. 

When he struggles expressing his emotions to you, he finds the solution in spoiling you rotten; it doesn't matter if you could buy everything you wanted, he wants to make sure you know you're important to him and the thought of you leaving him due to his lack of expressiveness hurts him more than he'd like to admit. 

Leaving him is not really an option, unless you really wanted to—but he'll do anything to make sure you never feel that way. 

Possessive AND jealous but not controlling due to his fear of driving you away. 

Thinks sleep is a waste of time but his body isn't strong enough to bear sleep deprivation so he lays on your chest to nap during evenings before continuing. 

Even though his introverted demeanour makes people think he's the quiet type, he could talk for hours in your presence and he is happy to know he's no longer alone and that he has someone who understands him. 

Yours is the only smell which doesn't make him nauseous. 

Loves board games of any sort and the quiet evenings when he can let go a little and play with you are his favourites. 

NSFW

Loves naked intimacy without it going any further, it means a lot to him being able to let his guard down enough to do that.

Even though he'd die before ever admitting it but his sexual desire for you developed before you were even together.

Probably dreamt of fucking you a few times and woke up mortified, not wanting to look you in the eye the next day but still did to not seem suspicious, and tried to avoid being around you as much as he could before he missed seeing you.

He is more aroused by the emotional intimacy of it rather than physical, and being close to you in a way no other person can.

Could fuck you for hours if he could, and he sometimes falls weak to that urge as he finds himself delaying his work to have you pressed under him a little longer.

Intertwines your fingers together and presses them just above your head to pin you down harder but to also feel your palm against his.

Knows every single turn on and kink you have, without you ever having to mention it and indulges in most of them. 

Dominant in a way of serving you instead of having power over you, and he isn't satisfied until you are overstimulated beyond consciousness.

He probably initiated it first—no matter how much he hated being seen as desperate, his desire for you has more power over him than his feeling of shame.

Almost always makes you cum once before any actual penetration unless he's extra pent up, but even then his priority is your pleasure.

Tries to hold back as much as he can until you're crying from desperation, you needing him is what he enjoys seeing.

Loves every single detail about your body and nothing about you could ever repulse him. If he were to hear you say something derogatory about yourself he'd feel personally offended to hearing you talk negatively about something he finds out of this world; before he fucks you in front of anything reflective so you could see how perfect you are just the way he sees you.

Pulls you onto his lap as he works so you could cock-warm him and hug him at the same time, even better when you kiss him occasionally.

He made sure to make your first time with him special, wanting you to know how much your well-being matters to him; and switched to a rougher side only if you urged him to.

He likes missionary mainly because he wants to look into your eyes and see every micro expression you make, but him flipping you onto your stomach and lifting your hips up is almost always inevitable.

Loves having a good view of him stretching you out, if the position isn't allowing him to look into your eyes, he's looking down to watch you gripping him.

As much as he enjoys eating you out, he loves seeing you on your knees for him and he struggles the most to remain gentle when you do before gripping your hair to pull your head closer to him.

He'll make sure you have no choice but to make sound, he'll decide he isn't doing good enough if you can stay quiet and won't stop until you're begging him to.