Author's note: Here it is, my second m-rated Sweenett fic. The first one, that I posted last year, took me ages to complete, but this one almost wrote itself. The beginning and middle part of this fic aren't as sweet and (relatively) innocent as they usually are in my stories, but I hope they're acceptable.
When the door of his barber shop was opened, Sweeney Todd woke up immediately. No matter how soft the sound was, it caught his attention. Fifteen years of banishment had made him alert, even when he was asleep.
He didn't have to guess the identity of the intruder. It was the same person who had been visiting him every night for almost a week. From the way this human being stepped into the room, he could tell easily that this trespasser was none other than Nellie Lovett herself.
Her 'feelings' for him had been nothing more than an annoying detail in the madness that was his life, but now that she had found the courage to come to him every bloody night, she had crossed a line.
He might've been able to forgive her if she'd just watched him, but no. It had started like that, almost a week ago. He had ignored her, pretending to be asleep in the hope that she'd get bored and leave him alone, but she had not. In fact, his lack of response only emboldened her, for she was apparently thinking that he did not notice how she invaded his privacy night after night.
The watching, which had been very disturbing, but still manageable, was followed however by something worse.
It had started with one shy index finger, resting on his cheek, but it hadn't taken long before that digit was going downwards, touching his lips and chin. Before he had even realized what was happening, her hand had been sliding over his side and back.
The first time that the baker had done this, Sweeney had been too dumbfounded to react. He had just kept quiet, hoping that she would soon take her hands off him and would stop touching him in a way only his Lucy was supposed to do. The fact that his wife was dead and he was a very, very lonely man, did not change this for him, not at all.
It seemed to him that Mrs. Lovett stayed with him for hours that night, even though she was probably only there for a few minutes. And all that time he just laid there, too horrified to move, only wishing that it would end soon.
The second night, the exact same thing happened. It was not that Mr. Todd had to pretend that he did not enjoy her attention, because he really didn't. Only the fact that she did it so secretly made it repulsive for him and besides… she was Nellie Lovett. The mere thought made him quiver in disgust.
And that was why he had developed a plan that day. Of course it would be so much easier just to kill her for her bizarre behavior, but he needed her to work. He would probably be found out before the Judge was dead if it wasn't for her, the demonic baker who made the corpses of his customers into pies.
No, she deserved something else, something that suited her own behavior. Something just as secretive and low.
Now, it was the third night that she came to his room with the intention to touch him in such an improper way. But this time, he was ready for it.
Quietly, she moved to the small bed he was resting in, in spite of her considered movements the planks of the floor squealing beneath her weight. Did she actually think that he didn't hear that? Was the woman completely delusional? Or did she actually did make that noise on purpose, hoping that he would wake up and, upon finding her in his room at night, make sweet, gentle love to her?
The mere thought almost caused the barber to snort, but luckily he could suppress the urge. He was supposed to be asleep after all.
A few seconds later she sat down on the edge of his bed. It didn't take long before her fingers were tenderly exploring his face.
His initial impulse was to act now, but he wanted to shock and scare her completely. In order to do so, he would have to wait until she was completely at ease. Then, he would reach for her arms and pull her into his bed. Not to do what she wanted to do of course, but to wrap his hands around her throat, pretending to squeeze the miserable life out of her. She'd surely be terrified of him for the rest of her life – even she wouldn't forgive him if he did that to her.
He endured her eager hands, gliding over his skin, attempting to make this all less repulsive by picturing that it was Lucy caressing his skin, not her, and failing miserably.
After a minute, he couldn't take it any longer. Maximum effect or not, this had to be over now.
Without any sign of warning, Sweeney grabbed the right arm of the baker and pulled at it powerfully, causing the woman to scream in horror and pain.
But the tiny baker was heavier than she looked and instead of landing on the other edge of the bed like she was supposed to, she ended up right next to him instead. The barber rolled over, following the movement of his pulling arms, and found himself lying half on top of her a second later.
This turned out to be the weak spot in his previously perfect plan. He could easily tell that the woman was terrified. Shock and fear were written all over her face, which was exactly like it should be.
Far from perfect was the way that his body, tense as always, reacted to the fact that it was pressed tightly against the softness and warmth that was Mrs. Lovett.
Being so close to her was completely different than having a cold hand touching him secretly. She was right in front of him and he could feel her now.
She was breathing heavily and every time that she took another breath of air, her chest was pushed even more firmly against his own. In spite of himself, a silent gasp escaped him at the unexpected contact.
This one subconscious reaction turned out to have worse effects than his entire plan had so far.
Mrs. Lovett was, in spite of the situation, as alert as always, and she immediately noticed the way his eyes dilated because of the sudden physical closeness. Her eyes widened as well, in surprise however, and the fear was replaced by lust within mere seconds. And when that determined look, the one he knew so well, found its way into her eyes, he knew that he was in deep trouble.
Shock and panic overwhelmed the barber as he realized what she was thinking.
He should've kicked her out of his bed now while he still had the chance, maybe use a razor if necessary. But to his utter horror and embarrassment, his body, which had been deprived from feeling a woman's body against it for so long, betrayed him.
And immediately, she knew it, or rather, she felt the evidence press hotly against her thigh.
Mrs. Lovett smirked once more, because his body proved that she had been right all this time, that he did want her, no matter how often he said that he didn't.
He was lost, he was defenceless, trapped in his own bed with the seductive baker.
But then, another plan began to develop in his mind, just as quickly as her feminine form aroused him. A plan, much more cruel than the one he had before, a plan that would both slake his current need and destroy her so called love for him for once and for all.
For months he had wanted her to understand that he was not the tender and caring man that she seemed to believe him to be. Now he had a perfect opportunity to prove this to her at last.
The plan was cruel, it was simply a low thing to do, and to a good and honest man it would be a crime. But he was not a good and honest man and she was the one who had caused all this in the fist place. If this was the only way, then so be it.
Women didn't like to be handled roughly, especially not in bed. Or at least, Lucy did not, but he could not think of anyone more feminine than his late wife, especially not Mrs. Lovett, although her body did feel quite curvy and soft.
He didn't have any time to think the new plan over, for Mrs. Lovett was tugging at his clothes impatiently, the lustful gaze more intense than before. The baker was an unstoppable force in most aspects of her life and this was no exception.
Sweeney, however, had a very different idea. If this was going to happen, it was on his terms and she was not going to enjoy it.
The barber pulled her greedy hands away from his body and reached for her clothes instead. They didn't come off as quickly as he wanted them to and since he needed to keep the element of surprise to make his plan work, things had to go faster.
His beloved razors were not far away from him and only a few seconds later the cold steel cut the front of Mrs. Lovett's dress in two pieces with a satisfying rip.
The corset got the same treatment and he simply tore away the rest of the layers of fabric that covered her, throwing all the material randomly away from them.
The skin that he exposed intoxicated him and he focused on the paleness of it, failing to notice that the baker wasn't intimidated like she should be. She was actually enjoying the way he treated her.
He had intended to plunge into the depths of the woman as soon as he had the chance to punish her for her vulgar behavior and find a way to release his own growing need, but the body that was currently lying naked right in front of him had so much more to offer than just that.
The woman's breasts moved with every shuddering breath that she took and, guided by the woman's trembling hands, his face moved closer to her so he could move his tongue over the sensitive skin.
Seconds later his plan was nothing than a vague memory. All there was, was the blind want for the body beneath his own. As he kissed and licked the woman's breasts, her moans mixing with his grunts, something strange happened. Her warm flesh brought something deep within him come to life, a strange and unfamiliar feeling that he hadn't even experienced this way when he had made love to Lucy. It was a need to find release within the heat of the baker's body, an urge that was so overpowering that it almost hurt. Of course, he had somehow felt like that when he was with his late wife, but this was different, so much more overwhelming.
His grand plan was totally forgotten as she grinded her hips against his, causing them both to gasp for air at the delicious friction.
Grunting something unintelligible, he couldn't wait any longer to take what he wanted, what she was offering him so freely now, even though she wasn't supposed to react to him this way.
Hastily he unbuckled the belt around his waist and dragged the layers of fabric that covered his lower body out of the way, at the same time managing to force her willing legs apart. Without a sign of warning, without even looking at her, he plunged into her.
Mrs. Lovett screamed as he did so, but he was lost in the sensations that the baker's body caused and failed to notice that she made those sounds because of pleasure instead of discomfort and pain. And instead of trying to get away from him and escape his mad pace, she matched his frantic rhythm.
He didn't even try to please her, all he wanted was to find his own release in the tightness surrounding him. But even though he wasn't touching her the way he had always caressed every inch of his wife, the auburn haired woman was trembling heavily already, her eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss written on her face.
One more powerful thrust, and she screamed his name in a way that he had never heard when he was with Lucy. He vaguely wondered about this, but as the baker's inner muscles clenched violently around him, he could do nothing but focus on that feeling as everything that usually mattered to him faded.
Her nails dug painfully into his back, drawing blood and damaging the already scarred skin even more, but it didn't matter. Only a few moments later, when he slammed into the woman's trembling body once again, it became too much, and he exploded inside of her.
Forgetting who he was with and why he was with her, he howled in ecstasy and buried his head in the crook of her neck, catching his breath while blindly kissing the soft skin of her shoulder.
As he listened to the wild beating of her heart, his head resting on her chest and her arms and legs still wrapped around him, he experienced the first moment of peacefulness since his return to London. There was something unexplainable that made him feel at ease, something of which he had forgotten that it existed. It was a huge relief to relax at last, and he was too content to blame himself for what he had just done. For once he didn't care, and he was even grateful that both his plans had failed so spectacularly; if everything had gone according to plan, he'd now be stuck with a hysteric baker instead of enjoying the aftermath of the totally unexpected moments of intimacy they had just shared.
"Well," she said quietly, "I guess I'll be going then. I understand that you don't want me to…"
It was a reflex, nothing more. Or at least, that's what he told himself later to defend his actions. Anything was better than admitting that he didn't even want her to suggest to leave.
His mouth crashed against hers, silencing her suggestion and making it very clear to her that she shouldn't go. The kiss was rough, just like he had been moments ago, but at the same time there was something like despair and need hidden in his movements.
When the kiss came to its natural end, he looked her in the eyes for the first time. They were an endless pool of love and devotion. For once it was a relief to see this gaze and it didn't annoy or disgust him like it usually did.
"Don't go," he whispered, unable to explain this unexpected request any further.
The feeling that forced him to ask her to stay was not rational, but none of this had been rational. Sweeney feared this, because the only thing standing between him and madness was rationality.
And of course, there was Mrs. Lovett, even though that hadn't dawned on him until now.
She wasn't rational, she never had been, but her love turned out to be something he needed more than that. Comfort and peace were things that weren't rational, but they had been very important to Benjamin Barker. Somehow, the baker managed to bring some of the man that he had once been, the tiny part that was left, back to his conscience.
He blinked slowly, a new sense of awareness pumping through his veins. What he saw right beneath him shocked him. Only now that it was too late did he realize what he had done, only because the innocence that he had taken reminded him now of the kindness and goodness he once had possessed.
If it weren't for Mrs. Lovett's truly unconditional love for him, which made her willing to give him whatever he wanted, the act that he had just committed could only be described as rape. And taking a woman against her will would placed him in the same, low ranks as the ones were persons such as Judge Turpin were kept.
There was however one difference, only one, and once again this was only thanks to Mrs. Lovett. She had freely allowed him to do what he had just done, and even now she was staring at him so lovingly, letting him know that she didn't blame him for his actions.
But guilt was not the reason that he didn't her chase out of his room. He allowed her to stay and snuggle against him because of the intuitive knowledge that if there was one person on this earth who could make him feel as if he wasn't dead yet, it was Mrs. Lovett. It was only ironic that his own cruelty had at last shown him how much she loved him and that this love could be the only way to mend him.