Imagine how awful I've felt this year that this was requested back in APRIL 😱🙈 But well, besides depression, I did have other (more positive) things happening, so yeah!
Didn't expect to draw characters from the Chernobyl HBO series again, let alone being the first time I drew Bryukhanov.
It wasn't going to be THIS detailed and rendered, but I had to make up for the late delivery 😅
Hi! Could you do something with the primary “bad guys” Dyatlov, Bryukhanov and Fomin x reader? Not really going for anything specific, could be headcanons for each of them seperately or something with all of them (and the reader) together 😳 Either way, thank you!
The Monster Has Three Heads
Pairings: Viktor Bryukhanov x Reader, Nikolai Fomin x Reader, Anatoly Dyatlov x Reader
Tags: p in a, cunnilingus, foursome (?), voyeurism, degradation, praise, abuse of power 😽
a/n: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH RAAAAAHHHH THANK YOU ANON!!!!! I LOVE THESE OLD MEN SOOOO MUCH UGGGHHH 😩😩😩
during my research for this piece, i had discovered that the REAL nikolai fomin is still alive!!!!! mashallah hizar mashallah to that man, may he live forever so that i can meet him in person 😙😙😙
we need more soviet fics in general.....valery khodemchuk is a man that we would go to WAR for, a man that we write EPICS for.
this was my first time writing something like this...normally i never write smut but i was so down bad for these men omg. characters might be ooc but idc, in this story they ARE in character teehee :3
enjoy! i hope to hear from you lil freaks in my comments and inbox as always <3
You were the latest addition to the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant—and a force to be reckoned with.
When people first encountered you they were hypnotized, to put it mildly; your star-stunning looks were the least interesting thing about you.
Strangers and comrades alike can attest to the fact that you have an air of mystique and otherworldliness that imprints and lasts on everyone you pass by.
But your ability to bring intrigue isn’t why you were hired at Chernobyl. No, it was your uncharted intelligence and experience that they sought out. Experience and intellect, might I add, that’s difficult to find in the most seasoned veterans, let alone from someone decades younger. So naturally upon arriving at the first day of the job, the current engineers couldn’t help but gawk.
Deputy Chief Engineer Anatoly Dyatlov was tasked with providing a tour of the facility and get you acclimated to your work environment at Reactor 4—a task that he felt was extremely below his pay grade and insulting to his status. He was all tight-lips and locked-jaw upon first meeting you—but there was something about you, something that piqued Dyatlov to take a closer look.
While Dyatlov planned for the tour to be as crude as possible, your knowledge of the history and inner workings of the power plant had brought forth a refreshing wave in Dyatlov and his own love for nuclear power. There was nuance in your questions, there was empathy in your statements.
The tour concluded with a meeting with all of your supervisors—Deputy Engineer Anatoly Dyatlov, Chief Engineer Nikolai Fomin, and the man who runs the show, Director Viktor Bryukhanov.
Despite being your direct supervisor, Dyatlov was seated next to you while you two looked across the table to Bryukhanov and Fomin. A clear power display.
Sitting in the small director's office, the tension was palpable.
“Welcome to the team, Y/N. Your references and our own higher-ups speak nothing but excellence from you.” Director Bryukhanov began. He leaned forward with his hands intertwined over the wooden table while keeping his warm eyes trained on yours.
“Yes, we are very pleased to meet your acquaintance.” Spoke the sycophant Fomin. He pressed his glasses further up his nose as his eye contact with you was darting at best.
By your side came a scoff poorly covered in a cough. “Of course, we are so very pleased.” Deputy Dyatlov reiterated. When you turned to look at him, he met your gaze with unadulterated arrogance. Dyatlov was leaning back in his chair, head slightly tilted as if to challenge you to contest him.
You were staring into the jaws of the monster by being in this room, yet it was the most thrill you’ve felt in so long.
Now this was a challenge worth fighting: to seduce the three-headed monster.
It was relatively easy to fit in with your new coworkers—as it always is—due to your impeccable experience, skills, and charm, but you had your eyes on the biggest prize.
Compared to Leonid or Aleks who were constantly critiqued by a scowling Dyatlov, the most you got was a cursory glance at your work before he walked off to haunt another poor soul. No bite, no bark.
Bryukhanov on the other hand, made it a habit to extend a warm smile and greeting whenever he saw you in the halls, before turning back to his stone exterior once out of your eyeline.
Fomin, for the position he held, was seldom seen in the building. Only a handful of times had you actually seen him, and that's on his impromptu stress-cigarette breaks outside the administrative office. In those moments where Fomin held a cigarette to his lips, his eyes were drawn, head held up—unfamiliar from his usual meek appearance—and he kept that gaze on you.
Several weeks had gone by since your hiring, and to say that your supervisors have been pleased would be an understatement. You were outperforming and outranking even the most experienced operators on your team, yet you remained humble and always was the first one to lend a hand.
So when you were called into Bryukhanov’s office, you had expected some sort of applause. Well, you surely had an audience.
Upon entering, you noticed your three direct supervisors standing and huddled together by the main desk.
Director Bryukhanov lifted his head and an immediate smile overtook his dark features.
“Y/N, please sit down.” Bryukhanov placed a warm hand on the small of your back as he guided you to the seat in front of his desk. While you were seated on the chair, Bryukhanov found a seat on the corner of his desk table, looking down at you while you had to lift your eyes to meet his. Looking up at him from this angle, a foxy glint could be recognized in his eyes.
“Y/N, you have truly excelled in the short time that you have come to work at Chernobyl, and for that we offer you the highest praise.”
“Thank you, Director.” You responded, with a proud smile.
“No need for thanks.” Byukhanov countered, reaching over and patting your thigh. “Your work deserves recognition.” His hand massaged the fatty part of your thigh while inching higher and higher. Your breath caught in your throat, you were finally getting what you wanted.
A single glance between you and Viktor was all that was needed. You felt a pair of lips attach themselves onto your neck from behind you, while hands roamed up and down your torso and your breasts. You leaned back, your body separated from Dyatlov's only by the chair.
Viktor's hand skillfully moved up your legs until his hand met your mound. He pressed his palm up against you, rubbing his palm up and down your clothed crotch.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Nikolai seated in the opposite corner of the room, leaning back in his chair while palming his growing hard-on with one hand and puffing on a cigarette in another.
Viktor kept his eyes locked onto yours as he lowered his body down from the desk and kneeled between your legs. With his warm hands, he peeled off your tights from your waist and off your legs. In between pressing sweet kisses from your thigh and towards your center, Viktor licked stripes on your skin and you shuddered in anticipation.
Behind you, Anatoly pulled and tugged at your clothed breasts before he undid the layers of clothing keeping him from your skin. Unlike Viktor’s skillful and delicate touch, Anatoly ripped off your white coat and your subsequent top and bra before he took your breasts in his hand.
“What a dirty girl, to be dominated and used by three men.” Anatoly’s thick Russian accent clouded your own thoughts. Without a warning, Anatoly’s mouth and hands were removed from your body and startled you from your trance.
“Up.” Anatoly snapped, and your body complied before your brain could process his command. Unbuckling and lowering his pants, Anatoly replaced your seat and looked at you like a father about to punish his baby girl. He patted his lap and you faithfully straddled his lap, facing forward.
“Oh, you filthy girl, this is all you wanted all along?” Anatoly spoke as he rocked his hips back and forth, creating friction between his crotch and your ass.
In one ear, Anatoly filled your head with degrading affirmations; in the other, Viktor moaned in worship.
“You beautiful, beautiful girl.” Viktor praised while spreading your achingly wet lips apart. He caressed your bud with his thumb as if he was leafing through gold flickers. Your hips involuntarily bucked at the edging from both sides—from Anatoly’s torture and Viktor’s slow percision.
“Please-” You moaned, falling back further on Anatoly’s chest and spreading your legs wider apart.
“What do you want, baby?” Viktor asked, rubbing his free hand up and down your thigh.
You tilted your head and shot him a whiny look—a pout and downturned eyes.
“Do you want us to make you feel good, hmm?” Viktor pressed his thumb deeper and circled your clit. “Do you want to hear how well you’re doing?”
All you could muster was a meek nod—your ego and persona long forgotten.
“Of course she wants to hear that, the attention whore she is.” Anatoly remarked before roughly taking your chin in his hand and turning your face towards him. Before you could protest, his lips wrapped yours and damn-near swallowed all the air in your lungs.
“Our sweet baby,” Viktor cooed as he kept circling your clit while his mouth had finally kissed your pussy. “You’re so good for us, so good—ugh—” Viktor moaned at the taste of your juices and you squirmed at his sensual, slow licks.
Between Anatoly’s tongue down your throat and Viktor’s tongue in your pussy, Nikolai had long taken off his pants and was stroking his cock in time with the men’s movements on you.
“Shove it in her ass, Anatoly.” Nikolai demanded in between breaths, puffs of smoke escaping his nostrils.
“Yeah, you’d like that?” Anatoly shot back, a smug smirk plastered on his face as he took you by the hips and lined his cock right up to your anus.
Granted, for all of his brutality, Anatoly was still slow and aware as he brought you back down onto his shaft. It still hurt—very much so—and you still yelped and cried in pain, tears pricking your eyes and your muscles tensing, but contrary to his behavior, Anatoly brushed your cheek with his hand and kissed your neck.
“It’s ok, you can take this.” He whispered into your ear.
Viktor was face-deep into your legs when you had tensed all of your muscles, and thus trapping his tongue inside your walls.
“Mmm, deep breaths love.” Viktor reminded, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your thigh as his warm tongue slowed and flattened outside your walls, giving you a chance to acclimate.
Nikolai’s fisting of his cock had come to a slow. He tsked in annoyance.
“Did I say rock her to sleep? I said fuck her.”
Viktor and Anatoly shot a glance between each other before complying.
Despite your instinctual resistance, Viktor spread your legs apart with ease and kept them there as he went back to work on your pussy. Switching in between flat-tongued licks from front to back, and then diving sharp-tongued into your walls.
Your breathing was still shakey from the penetration, but your cries were more from pleasure than pain now. More torture than sex, you felt like a medical device to be proded and experimented with.
The humiliating gaze from Nikolai only added to the embarrasment and pain, yet it felt so liberating.
Anatoly began to rut his hips into your ass, causing sharp inhales and grunts from you.
None of this was pretty. Everything felt too rushed; yet all that mattered was that there was no control.
You had no autonomy. Your voice no longer mattered. You were given no thought, if any.
Despite the public display of humiliation and disgrace, you felt so free that you cried. The pain from the raw penetration; the suffocation from a life survived—not lived; all of the power-moves you had to make to end up here—all of that was worth it, for this moment of bliss.
To never think again. To never make another decision. To never move.
Finally, finally, all of that pent up internal agony could be transmuted into the physical, and thus forever leaving your body.
A final prod into your cervix from Viktor had brought your body into convulsion—mouth agape, but only a final sigh of air left your lungs. Eyes glossy as you lay limp in Anatoly’s arms.
Viktor peppered your inner thighs with kisses, moving up your stomach, in between your breasts, and up to your mouth—all the while singing your praises.
“My beautiful, beautiful girl. You did so well. You always do so well.”
After wiping the cum off his hands, Nikolai had come over and pet your cheeks with the back of his hand, placing a kiss to the center of your forehead.
“Yes, you are perfect. You are greater than perfection.” Nikolai whispered, as you were flowing in and out of sleep. Anatoly hummed in agreement, stroking your hair, all while still nestled deep in a hole that has bled to the point of ache, and ached to the point of numbed.
Perfection, control, and power—those are the three heads of this monster.
Liberation, unity, and humility—those are our saviors.
a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :)
DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions!!! comments are what keep writers going <3
feel free to check my pinned post for request rules and don't hesitate to drop in whatever chernobyl requests y'all have (hbo series or movie version both welcome 😎)
When I look back at myself in 2019 watching HBO's Chernobyl, I never would have imagined becoming obsessed with Con O'Neill.
Don't get me wrong, he did an excellent job playing Viktor Bryukhanov, but it's not like I went online and looked him up after the fact. He registered on my radar as "one of the many amazing actors in that show" and I moved on. I didn't even know his name.
And yet, I do find it absolutely ironic that prior to Our Flag Means Death, whenever someone would ask me what my favourite TV show was, I always said HBO's Chernobyl.
In fact, upon watching OFMD for the first time, when Izzy Hands showed up on screen, my very first reaction was "Oh hey! It's that dude from Chernobyl!" Oh sweet summer child, if only I knew what was coming next...
Our Flag Means Death and Chernobyl are now my number 1 and number 2 favourite TV shows of all time, and I find it absolutely hilarious to entertain the possibility that Con O'Neill had subconsciously infected my brain even back then. I know it's probably just a coincidence, but I just can't help myself. It's so perfect. People are gonna think I love both those shows because of Con O'Neill but I'm innocent. I SWEAR IT!! This all happened by complete accident.
*angrily shakes fist at Izzy Hands*
Who knows, had I done just a bit more research and realized who Con' O'Neill was as an actor sooner, maybe my obsession would have also come sooner.
It's whatever, we are here now. The universe never ceases to amuse me. Makes me lol.
