☠️🕊️🚫🍴

(just some short bits about my two favourite OCs to make horny AUs for. Blood + violence, but consensual and hopefully kinda fluffy)

Thomas had hurt people before- of course he had, in a line of work like his- but never like this.
Never someone who loved him, who he loved back so much.
Someone who arched their body into every cut, whimpering his name and begging him not to stop.
Someone who trusted him so much; trusted him with their very life, putting the fragile thing in his hands, under his knife, between his teeth.

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It hurt.
Of course it hurt- Sticks could barely feel the blood dripping, almost pouring, down their body under the sting of all the open wounds.
They didn't mind.

Every slice in their skin, every shredded nerve, every piece of tissue torn easily from their soft body. Each little star of pain and each fresh injury, all just ways to be closer to him. They could feel Thomas on their body, sometimes in it, and they loved every second. They loved him, in fact- they trusted him with their life, and had no doubts that he would return the sentiment.

Even as they bit back tears and screams, feeling sharp teeth do irreparable damage to their insides, they wouldn't have changed their mind about what was happening now.

After all, was this not just another form of intimacy? How could they ever be closer to anyone than Thomas was to them now?

Blood was the only gift they could give him that truly came from the heart.

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It's definitely a strange feeling, one that would perhaps be contradictory to anyone else.

Thomas loves Sticks.

He really does, loves them so much that he wants to tear them into a thousand tiny pieces just to hear them scream his name. He wants to rip them apart, see them tremble and flinch in his grip, completely broken.

Most of all he wants to see them ask for it, beg for it, see the shy way they avert their eyes when they ask him to sink his teeth deep into their flesh.

Yes, he wants to hurt them, but it isn't just that. He wants to tend to them, dress their wounds, stitch them up if needed. He wants to hold them close while they heal, whisper into their ear and squeeze what's left of their hand.

He wants them to want it.

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Thomas grabs their hair, fastens his fingers in it, pulls their head harshly backwards and towards him. He whispers in their ear and they strain to hear it.
"I love to see you like this. Quivering, trembling, utterly and irreparably broken. All for me~"

They let out a small whine- perhaps of pain, perhaps of pleasure, quite possibly both (Sticks has never been clear of the distinction between the two)- as he brushes against some open wound or another. They are led face down on the bed, panting and bleeding, with him straddling their hips. The marks of his- affection? hunger? violence?- coat their body, filling every inch of available skin.

They don't mind. They know this pleases him, just as he knows it pleases them. Bite marks and stab wounds are perhaps not as conventional a method of displaying romance as roses or kisses, but they know how much they mean to each other and, perhaps, that is enough.

(In case you wondered, they are the left and right of this image)