Top&Dom Reader

Horror oriented erotica writer Inbox: open for all characters! Weird/Extreme kinks ahead (all tagged) Salem - 23 - they/them - lesbian - ao3: TeethFarie - nsfw twitter: teeth_farie NO MINORS! Multifandom Ask to tag!

[teeth-farie]

Welcome to the library!

Here you’ll find a mix of erotica, romance, and horror!

Want to browse? Check the Masterlist!

Want to buy a book? Check out my Kofi! (Commissions: Open!) art comm info

Tags for blocking: omo/piss: omo tw, gore: gore tw, emeto: emeto tw

Rule List

DNI: Minors, MAPs, TERFS, Anti-Antis/Proshippers (including those who ship demoncest), ‘females or she/her DNI’ blogs (I am a fem non-binary lesbian, it makes me uncomfortable) NO AGE IN BIO = BLOCK

MY SHOP!

Happy reading~

[bambi-bino]

My teeth are just as cooked as yours we should totally go to the dentist and hold hands while they put our braces on

“Ith tight…”

[teeth-farie]

I have a Franco request👀👀👀 could you please do Sugar Daddy Franco with an apprehensive reader? Like they’re nervous about having money spent on them (idm if it’s just like head canons or a full fic)

Firstly, I imagine this would take place prior to Murkoff, when Franco is probably around 22-24 and roaming around Cuba as a big time drug lord. He’s got money, a lot of it. And he’s spending it on whores. 

Now, doesn’t he kill a lot of them when he can’t get it up? Yeah but that’s besides the point. 

So he’s pent up. He fists his limp little cock every night hoping for something to come out. Anything. 

Lonely nights lead him to yet another bar. different than his usual hang outs, but so long as they could read a drink recipe, he’s golden. 

His feet don’t reach the ground on the barstool, nor the bar around the legs meant to rest your feet on. And when he sits next to you without any thought, you notice…everything about him. His head, his stature, the way he smelled of copious amounts of cologne overtop bodily odor. And the drink he orders. Egg? Really? 

You’re not a sex worker. You’re not one of his pretty little whores. But when his lazy eye slowly drifts a little more to the side, and he gets a look at you…the way he talks to you would have you guessing otherwise. 

“How much?” He asks, and you fight the urge to slap him across his face. But you’ve heard tales of the big headed bambino. How he kills and conquers. 

Still, you turn your nose up at him, declining his offers until you feel one of those small hands on your thigh. 

And then you do slap. 

You slap him hard across the cheek, a loud crack that has the bartender wincing. 

Now Franco is no stranger to a good whooping, but something about the way you do it, the force behind your hand has him feeling some kind of way. 

“Five hundred,” he gasps, blotchy red from your hand. “Five hundred if you keep that up.”

You scoff, but the thought doesn’t immediately sour your stomach. You could use the money. It sounded like a good chunk, after all. And what’s just one night of beating the spunk out of this little guy? 

So you do. You go to a seedy little motel room with him, listen to his delighted squeals and wails when you smack him silly. He offers more if you’ll bend him over your lap. It’s the first time he’s felt genuine thrill since terrorizing some poor soul with his lupara. 

But don’t think you’ve gotten away after he hands over that money. You’ve beat him, but oddly enough, you haven’t degraded him. Just grunts of exertion and strength. Never before has he felt so normal. Like any other shmuck under your heel. 

He needs more. He’s gotta have more. He starts stalking the bar in case you return, having most trusted of men try to get any lick of info from you. And when he finds you again? Ohh, he’s not letting you go. 

What do you want, huh? Jewelry? More cash? Drugs? He’s got a lot of drugs. 

You shake your head to every thing he offers. It starts to infuriate him. What, now you’re too good for him? 

He gets rammy, asks you what the hell you want then, if you think you’re too good for him now, that he could have anyone he wanted. 

And maybe you have a short temper, maybe you’re just sick of him. But you grab his shirt and shake him around a little, tell him to knock it the fuck off. Reminds him a little of how dad used to push him around when he was little, before he was big enough to get his head smashed in. And maybe the wires got crossed, and that fear mixes with arousal, adrenaline beginning to form. 

But he gets hard. The pitiful little thing between his legs standing at attention. 

…you go with him to that same motel room. You suck him off and he cums in watery spurts on your tongue, too blissed to even care that you spit it out. He’s hooked on you. He takes you out to a 24 hour diner and begs you to make an arrangement with him. 

Reluctantly, you agree. You feel guilty taking his money when he’s so desperate like this, but he practically grovels at your feet, to the despair of the waitress. 

So a relationship is formed. You politely decline his excessive gifts in favor for smaller trinkets, which he doesn’t quite understand. But if a thrift store brooch is what gets him a handy, then he’s not complaining. 

Hidden bakery shop sweets, second hand jewelry, hell, he’s even given you sea glass and river rocks. And eventually, he notices that…you aren’t asking for things in return. You still seem happy to touch him, to put him in his place. And you accept the gifts, but you aren’t demanding them. 

Insert mushy feelings here. Franco begins to refer to you as his partner more regularly, and you’ve even kissed him on the mouth! A couple times! 

Life is good. At least for a little while. 

Because murkoff will eventually come knocking, and if you’re in the picture then Jenny is never disemboweled. 

They could make good use of you somehow, someway.

[teeth-farie]

So you’re into Outlast Trials but what about other Outlast characters? How do you feel about Eddie Gluskin? Ignoring his crimes he’s such a cute, pathetic, man who needs to get pregnant and I love him for it 💞

I’ve only played outlast trials, but trust me, I’ve seen my fair share of Eddie. My girlfriend LOVES him. They will no doubt be forcing me to play the other games soon.

He’s not my personal favorite, but I do like his voice from his voice lines. I have a huge voice kink, hence why I love the ones that babble and ramble ehehe.

I can also see Eddie having a big breeding kink, though I see him as also having issues bottoming for the other way around. Not to say he’s adverse, but maybe just needs some extra care about it. The payoff would be worth it, I think.

Though you know who would LOVE Eddie asks? My girlfriend: @ghoulfriendfangs . Send them ALL your Eddie thoughts they are the biggest Eddie fan I know. I would gladly take trials asks too though <3

[eastermans-drafts]

im aiming the forcefem beam straight into your office. ten days of easterman in a skirt and heels for the masses

):

(@teeth-farie)

[mammonsboytoy]

if mc was known to do manual work before coming to devildom and would be willing to do some of the dirty/hard manual work around the house of lamentation, mammon would find that so attractive, more so if he could watch and sees mc working. he loves to pamper and spoil mc but the idea that mc could also be physically strong to take care of him? its over for him, he's already imaging a life where he doesn't have to lift a finger unless mc wanted him to

[mammon-mamma-mia]

SO SORRY im late but i found the fic i was tagging about!! bbiiiig mc being able to manhandle mammon and inflict easy violence on demons<3

Post by @teeth-farie

💬 1  🔁 53  ❤️ 574 · Not So Soft Afterall · Mammon/AMAB Reader ☞. . . Another kofi request!! This one had a description for the reader: 7’2

[fashion-ysta]

[teeth-farie]

i think you deleted it ? but regardless i wanted you to know i am. like. crazy obsessed with ur kishibe fanfic WHAHHA ... i saved it before it got deleted (i'm not going to reupload it anywhere, dw, but if ur uncomfy with me having it at all i can delete it) and its been in my head ever since

it saddens me that more people dont look at this man and think "i want to stick my dick in this guy" honestly . but you provided ... and for that i am so grateful. also your other aki fics r beautiful. top notch stuff. i will definitely be tipping u once i get more money (and maybe commissioning a blurb or something — i'm very stingy with my money LOL)

I don’t think I deleted it? It could have gotten lost among all my other posts BUT I do still have the ao3 post here!

Also I don’t mind if people save my work! It means a lot that you enjoy it so much!! The only thing I don’t like is it being plugged into AI or being reposted without credit.

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been into chainsaw man but my gf is OBSESSED with it rn. I might have to write a thing or two once I’m finished commission work

(ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH usually I do commissions for full fics of varying lengths, but I have thought about offering drabbles/blurbs for cheaper (like how I used to do character love letters))

[glimfag]

PRIME ASSET KEYCHAINS!! Pre-order here!

(please rb to increase reach so I can meet my order minimum ^_^; If things go well, other characters will be added!)

[teeth-farie]

“Th-this is beneath me,” Franco hissed between his snaggled teeth, though he still buries his face in the ratty pillows of the suburban beds, undeniably hard between the legs. “I could blow your fuckin’ head off.”

This little tryst of yours, it was dangerous, but by god was it intoxicating to crush him into a sniveling mess. Your teammates work on getting out the vote- but you? You’re knuckle deep in Franco, milking each pitiful glob from his even more pathetic cock.

“Mm, and still ass up like a whore.” You can’t help it, drunk on the power you have over him, if only in this moment.

Your fingers crook before he can bark out another nonsensical insult, and a whimper bleeds from his tongue.

“Oh? And what was that?”

“Fuh-fuckin’ nothin’—“

“Yeah? It’s nothin?”

You do it again, and he writhes on the rusted spring mattress, drooling into the pillow.

“Fuck!” He cries, pleading and defeated. “Too much, y-yer givin’ me too much,”

It’s like he’s trying to wriggle away from your fingers, and the sheer audacity of it has you bracing your other hand against his lower back and pressing him into the bed, fingers digging into him rougher. A steady, ruthless pace fueled by sick arousal.

“Nuh uh, Frankie,” you laugh, dodging his kicking leg. “You’re gonna take it, and you’re gonna like it.”

“Mama,” he wheedles, thin and tight, his breaths heaving.

“Yeah, keep that up,” it truly does something to you, makes you feel all hot and liquid in the belly when he calls you that. Always has. This place is ruining you, and you can’t find it in yourself to care.

His hips buck and rut against the stained sheets, clawing until the fitted sheet pops off the corners of the bed.

“Muh-mother, mother may I?” It’s slurred and lurid, drooling from his lips and he sucks it back up. It’s revolting. You want to make him cum his brains out.

“Sure, why not.” You settle, rubbing circles into the tender spot that makes him howl.

It doesn’t take him much longer after that, maybe a moment or two before he’s spilling with a guttural groan, dick completely untouched. Oh, that does things to you.

You don’t have too long before you hear the shuttle siren blare through the suburbs, and your fingers slide out of him quicker than it takes him to comprehend he’s spent the entire trial getting finger fucked.

“Ohh, that’s my cue,” you click your tongue against your teeth, an apologetic hum. You’re getting off the bed and he’s frantically pulling his pants up, belt dangling loose around his waist, fumbling for Lupara.

“‘Give ya an extra three second headstart,” he pants, stumbling off the bed.

“Oh please, it’ll take you at least five to buckle your belt.”

“Wastin’ time, toots.”

You only grin, quick heel toe out the door, just for a tooth shard to whiz past your head, nearly clipping your ear. Trigger happy motherfucker. You don’t chance a second look, lest it be the nail in your own coffin. You’d catch him again soon enough, anyway.

[teeth-farie]

Hey! Would u ever write for Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers? 🙏

HI HELLO yes I would! I’ve written for some slashers before, like Ghostface, Billy Lenz, Brahms I believe…and after a quick check into my own tags, I have written for Michael! Little drabbles, but I’d love to do a full on slasher fic one day

[teeth-farie]

so happy to see u are a fellow franco enjoyer !! would u perhaps take requests for him..... 👁️👁️

YES ABSOLUTELY I would actually write for a lot of characters from outlast trials (only outlast game I’ve played), though Franco is my favorite.

[ultraeyepiss]

a lil wolf's milk in the sleep room

[gimpnpanty]

get off the phone man its been twenty minutes I got business to handle

[anotheronenoone]

a some nice postcard to send to your loved ones!

[mutilatedscrap]

I need a ficlet of Franco being slapped around and stepped on, maybe also spat on.

I just want yo make him whimper and beg -w-

Summary: You just wanted your wedding day to look perfect and with the perfect wedding means the perfect flowers…

WC: 600+

Windows cast ribbons of color across the aisle, rows upon rows of handcrafted pews stood in perfect formation, and at the far end, a grand stage awaited for you to walk up and marry the man of your devotion.

But your head tilted at the flowers hanging from the cathedral’s high arches. Peonies and hydrangeas.

“Franco,” you called sweetly.

He hurried to your side, all smiles and laughter. “What is it, Tesoro?” He slid his hands around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder, gazing up at you like you were the sun itself.

“Oh, well, I was just admiring the beauty of the church—”

“Lovely, ain’t she?” he said, beaming. “My father was married here more than a few times. A real special place. Wanted it to be the place I got married at—”

“Yes,” you cut in sharply, then softened it with a smile. “I agree it’s lovely, but, aha… what’s that?” You pointed upward.

Franco lifted his head. “The flowers? That’s what the wedding planner recommended—”

Your hand cracked across his face before he could finish. The sound echoed through the church, freezing every mafia member and planner in their tracks. Franco didn’t even have time to look surprised before you seized his cheeks and forced him to meet your eyes.

“It was supposed to be lilies and irises.” You batted your lashes, voice sweet as venom, while your grip tightened. He sank lower, your hand guiding him down. “I told you specifically, I wanted this weddin’ to look perfect. And now—” your smile faltered, eyes narrowing, “now you’re trying to make a fool of me? on my own day?”

Franco shook his head frantically, muttering broken apologies, his hand trembling against your wrist.

You dug your heel into his crotch.

He gasped as the sharp point pressed cruelly into his sack. His hands scrambled for your leg, clutching it as you leaned down, your breath brushing against his face.

“I want this wedding to be perfect.” you snarled, grinding your heel deeper. “I want to sing”, you pressed harder,“I want to dance.” You leaned forward until he was flat on his back, eyes wide and glistening as he looked up at you. “And I want our guests to feel every bit of wonder and magic when they arrive because that’s what our love should look like!” Your heel came down hard against his crotch.

Franco’s head snapped back, a strangled moan tearing from his throat as his grip tightened around your ankle. He could feel the tip of his cock soiling his trousers.

“Not—whatever that shit is!” You jabbed a finger toward the flowers overhead.

You take your leg back and step forward, both heels pressed into his chest, pinning him to the marble floor. Yet he still clung to your calves, grounding you, trembling beneath you while he made sure you wouldn’t wobble off.

“So,” you asked coolly, “what kind of flowers are we getting tomorrow?”

“L–Lilies and irises,” he wheezed.

You didn’t say anything but stepped to either side of his body, crouched, and grabbed the front of his suit, hauling him upright. You inhaled deeply then spat right in his face. Franco flinched, eyes squeezing shut as the spit slid down his cheek.

“Don’t make any more mistakes, ya’ got that?”

“O–okay…”

Your brow arched.

He stiffened instantly. “I–I mean yes… yes, mommy. I won’t make any more mistakes.” His head bowed, shame and arousal warring across his face.

You patted his cheek with a sharp slap and smiled. “Good boy.” You kiss his other cheek, leaving a wet kiss just to even it out.

Standing tall, you brushed the imaginary dirt off your dress, turned, and strode down the aisle. The church doors creaked open, sunlight flooding the space as you exited. Franco sat up slowly, red-faced, breath heavy, wiping the spit from his skin. The eyes of everyone in the room were on him.

“What?!” he barked, glaring around. “You’ve never been married before?!”

At once, they looked away, pretending to busy themselves with the decorations.

[jamiefort]

Finally I kinda dealt with university stuff and feel more free to draw for myself ❤️‍🩹

I missed drawing this silly head so badly ❤️‍🩹