self indulgent writing blog. female/gn readers x male characters i have crushes on hehe. my beloved main fandom is ninah 💒🚪🤍 no ai is used in my writing because ai SUCKS
(/ω＼) i've never so much as held anyone's hand irl so i apologize for any mistakes. i am an adult irl. there will be smut, it'll be tagged but 18+ warning!!
requests are open for no, i'm not a human. i've never taken requests before so i'm not sure if i'm doing this right. read boundaries first!
₊˚⊹ᰔ writing masterlist & request boundaries under the cut
｡𖦹°‧ BOUNDARIES
i can do headcanons or fics for 1-5 characters in each post. i only write for male characters since i fangirl here.. readers are gender neutral until smut is involved. then i specify that they're women. i don't like writing smut if the reader isn't female, cuz i'm female.
kinks i won't do are illegal stuff with kiddies/animals, vore, toilet stuff, puke, ageplay but i can write legal age gaps, raceplay, incest/stepcest, gore, excessive sadism and masochism with whipping and dominatrix type stuff, cheating, noncon but i can write dubcon
｡𖦹°‧ MASTERLIST
NO, I'M NOT A HUMAN
headcanons for the protagonist, coat guy, wireface, stoner, and enerjeka addict when they have crushes on a gender neutral reader
headcanons for the immortal man, bar guy, pale intruder, vigilante and blinded man when they have crushes on a gender neutral reader
Hellooo!! I love you crush series, your characterization of the characters (pun not intended) is absolutely amazing! If you don't mind could you include morbid romantic into the next part? In any case I wish you well!! :D
thank youu i'm so happy they're a hit with people!! i was worried about the characterization since many of these grown ass men prolly wouldn't have crushes but it's so fun writing it out ^o^
i shall include him and creepy guy since he was requested as well.. i'm also thinking of the death cult leader for part 3 💭
❤︎ warnings/tags : hate sex? ⋆ oral f!receiving ⋆ piv sex ⋆ guns but not during the freaky parts ⋆ knotting ⋆ you may or may not get pregnant ⋆ mentions of death/violence ⋆ no blood relation to your dad is mentioned to make the fic race inclusive ⋆ humantruder begging yay ⋆ HE'S A FREAKAZOID IN THIS LIKE IM SORRY FOR WHAT THIS MF SAYS AND DOES
you're the bearded huntsman's daughter, and the intruder isn't happy that your father let him die.
your father is a mystery. one moment, he coddles you and treats you like you're helplessly made of glass. the next, he's yelling at you and entrusting you with all the housework because he's going on a month long work trip. you're an adult, but he rarely treats you as one.
it doesn't get any easier when the cataclysm flips the world upside down.
he doesn't trust you with his rifle. he currently has you perched at the front door so you can watch for intruders. your job is to holler for him so he can scare anyone away if they knock. it's so.. close-minded. these people outside need to find shelter before sunrise or they'll be burnt to a crisp. what's the harm in letting someone stay for a night?
you spot a man in the treeline, making a beeline to your cabin. he's out of breath. you duck down so you aren't visible through the windows, but he definitely saw you. the way he lit up, shouting and pleading with slurred words confirms it. you only make out the words once he slams himself into the door and cracks it.
"—the door! open it! please, miss!" he pounds his fists on the door and tries twisting the locked doorknob. "you're the only shelter for miles! it's not safe out here! pleasepleaseplease, let me in—"
you've never heard anybody so scared... he's begging for his life. it's different than when a hiker sprains their ankle and asks for a ride in your father's truck.
"i'll ask my dad. he told me not to let anyone inside, but i'll—"
your sentence is cut off by more of his choked pleas. "th-there's no time, please! the sun is coming up! i don't have any weapons, i... i can't fight, or climb, i'm out of shape... i've been running all night. please, ma'am. i just need your roof then i'll be gone in the morning. please!"
you believe him. he doesn't sound like somebody who's hoping to rob and kill you. you don't know much about these 'visitors', but he sounds like a human in distress.
the door has several locks because of your father's paranoia when it comes to teenage punks, wild animals, robbers, squatters, and the like. you open it a crack with the chain lock still intact, hoping to get a look at this man without running the risk of him storming inside.
he's wearing a threadbare white sweater, and yes, he's quite chubby. his hair is a mess and he's sobbing. it looks like he's been stumbling around in the thickest woods for hours. this man doesn't look like a threat. the sky changes hues above him, dawn is peeking in to bring death upon every lost soul without shelter. like him, if he's turned away.
"my dad's out back.. i WANT to let you in, but—"
his hands launch into the crack of the door, blindly fumbling around to unfasten the chain and invite himself inside. his hands are marred with small gashes and bruises.
"i won't cause you two any trouble! i'm BEGGING you, i'll sleep on the floor, i don't need any food or water, just a roof—"
making eye contact with him has you stumble backward. the traumatized look in his eyes breaks your heart. that's it, you're calling for your dad.
"DAAAAD! someone's at the door!" you shut the door tight because he'd kill you if he knew that you cracked it open.
your call shuts up the pale man outside. his hand snaps back to his body so he can straighten his hair and pat down his sweater, like he's trying to make himself presentable. he wipes tear tracks from his tubby cheeks and forces a polite smile.
..little does he know, he could be jesus christ himself and your dad would still shoo him away at gunpoint.
your dad stomps in through the back door, clearing the house fast with his rifle. he doesn't even look through the peephole before he's howling out, "get off our property! i've got a gun and i ain't afraid to use it."
you wince, tugging on your dad's flannel sleeve like you do when asking him for dessert. "he's not a threat... dad, he seems nice, and you're scaring him."
it earns a scoff from your father before he shouts at the man outside again. "the hell do you think you're doing, smooth-talking my daughter?" plan backfired. he's even more furious because your role here is to act as a silent watchdog, not let these trespassers manipulate their way into your naive heart! "i'll show you scared if you don't fuck off somewhere else. we ain't a hotel."
the man outside bangs his fists on the door again, sobbing and hiccuping because this was his chance at survival and things have never looked more grim for him.
the three of you go back and forth, and it's not pretty.
"i don't have any weapons! i need shelter from the sun!"
"he's telling the truth, dad. he doesn't have any bags or supplies..."
"how do you even know that? don't tell me you opened up for him, kid."
"please, stop fighting! i see you care about each other deeply... i love my parents too... i'd never want to get between a family.."
"we can lock him in the bathroom overnight if you're so paranoid, dad! we can't let him burn to death!"
"yeah, kid, let's give him our razor blades and let him break the only toilet we've got. i knew it was a dumb idea to put you in charge."
"please, you two!! i'll do anything! you can tie me up!"
"don't put no perverted ideas like that into my daughter's head!"
"what?? i meant, if you don't trust me, i'll-"
BANG.
your dad opens the door so he can fire a shot outside then lock it back up, all in a matter of seconds. oh god, you hear a wet squelch and the man outside wails and coughs. he staggers to the side and bangs on the windows while bleeding profusely. the bloody handprints on the windows twist your stomach.
with a grunt, your dad grabs you by the hair and tugs you deeper into the house, away from the commotion outside. he shot someone. how will you view your father in the same loving light ever again? you're utterly silent. the man outside grows silent too. whether his dead body is sprawled across your porch or he managed to hobble away and die in the bushes is unknown... both make you feel violently ill. you tried so hard to persuade your father but nothing is ever good enough for him.
the next morning, he's gone. only bloodstains remain. the day is silent and stiff. your father smokes, drinks, and sharpens his tools like he didn't just slaughter a pedestrian for needing help in the woods during an apocalypse. he's never been the charitable type, never picking up hitchhikers or sharing his food or water with anyone outside the family, but this is a new low.
a few days and nights pass. you're locked in your room so your dad can be on peephole interrogation duty after your fumble with the pale man. all you hear are no's, cusses, sarcasm and warning shots. he doesn't listen to a single story or offer a shred of sympathy. it's barbaric. especially since he uses YOU as an excuse— 'i have a daughter in the house'. these survivors probably think you're a defenseless baby, not a grown woman. you need to tune it out after a while and listen to the radio because you feel your opinion of him plummeting in real time.
your dad leaves you alone for the first night since the shooting because he needs supplies. it's been a little over a week and you still feel a pit in your stomach when you pass by the front door.
he instructs you to not leave your room under any circumstances and not to open any blinds. there's a baseball bat in the corner of your room if you need a weapon. siiigh.
you occupy yourself by reading a book in your bed since there isn't much to do barricaded in your room. there's scratching and rustling outside your window, but it's to be expected when you're surrounded by wild nature.
and...
uh...
someone whispering your full name..?
you clap the book shut and feel a heart attack coming on. your neck snaps to look at the window in your bedroom, and the shadows that dance make it clear you aren't alone. your whole house is one floor.. all ground level. it's a modest cabin that feels cramped with just you and your dad. easy to surround.
"[naaame]..." a male voice coos, drumming his fingers on the window. it's certainly not the gruff voice of your father, but it has to be SOMEONE familiar if he knows your name. you and your father live off the grid, you have no public or online presence whatsoever. but if this was one of your dad's friends from work, they would knock at the front door and not tap your bedroom window in the middle of the night.
you slowly tiptoe from your bed to the corner of your room with the baseball bat. it's your only weapon. you don't have a phone. not even a landline... not that emergency services will pick up and come save you. that's a thing of the past, it's every man for himself now.
"what's the matter? your daddy isn't home. you can let me in now." the voice sounds so proud, like he's gloating at how good of a point he's making.
"g..go away. i have a weapon." you don't sound half as confident as your dad does when he threatens people with his gun.
"tsk tsk tsk," the voice drags every syllable and makes your skin crawl. he keeps tapping your window, you recognize now that it's the work of ten bony fingers. "like father, like daughter. what changed? you were so close to inviting me in... i would have stayed one night and been on my merry way, just as i promised. if only your father didn't shoot me."
the blood in your veins turns to ice.
you know exactly who this is.
"oh, it's... you? i'm so sorry. i wanted to help you, but my father would have shot you even faster if he saw you inside. i'm still mad at him for hurting you." you put on your friendliest voice for him, because this really sounds like he's recovered from his gunshot wound and he's here to kill you. "i don't agree with my father's actions. but if you're here to hurt us, i will fight back."
you manage to get your thoughts out pretty well. you're proud of yourself for sounding both firm and civil.
"aren't you a little diplomat." he spits, mockingly. "you're sooo sorry for me... you left me to bleed and burn, but you disagree with it. shaking your head at daddy dearest absolves you of all your sins!"
you stay silent, trying not to puke. you can't see him, your blinds are closed, but his shadow that fades in and out is massive. the pale man looked chubby when you laid eyes on him through your front door, but now he's looks skeletal.
"what of the others, hm? a little birdie told me papa turned away a pregnant woman with a broken leg."
your eyes widen. "what?" as much as you hate to admit it, that does sound like your father. he wouldn't sacrifice his child's safety to protect a random unborn kid and a woman who could be a visitor or criminal.
"you didn't know? ahh, the oblivious princess hides in her tower, while the peasants rot outside of her window. see how far being 'sorry' gets her? ...you see why mankind brought their guillotines out the last time this happened?"
you don't want to hear any more of this. "can you leave? my dad will be back soon. he'll shoot you again, and this time... he'll finish you off." the tremor in your voice is your biggest enemy as you lie to him: your dad said he could be gone for days, now that vehicles are out of the picture.
the man outside chuckles. your window smashes open and glass flies everywhere, prompting you to shield yourself with your arms and the bat so you aren't sliced.
your dad's trusty rifle is tossed onto your floor to land in the shards of glass.
"he'll shoot me? tell me, hmm, with what?"
your entire body is shaking with fury and fear as you grip the baseball bat and get into a defensive position.. your window is too close to the door for you to run out without fearing that he'll grab you. you're cornered. curse your room's layout!
"he.. he has a pistol too. my dad is tougher than you think." you bluff some more, but it's all you have left to intimidate him. charging at him will be a death sentence with broken glass everywhere and you being barefoot.
he chuckles again, and rips your blinds straight off the wall with the gangliest green arms you've ever seen. he's in full view of your window now and he's horrifying. his skin is too big for his bony body- no, his bones are too big for anyone's body. he has the same haircut and smile but too many chins, too many teeth, no human could possibly be that tall—
"you don't need to lie. he had a lighter, keys, and beer can. but it's all goneeee, just like the hoolee he gave meee~" while singing, he angles his body in an obscenely impossible way to flaunt a discolouration on his torso where a fatal gunshot once was. no human could recover that fast from a point blank rifle shot.
this isn't a wounded man getting revenge on you because of your dad. this is a visitor turning your childhood fortress into his hunting ground. you don't even want to imagine if your dad escaped or if he's been butchered. you can't dwell on that. you need to run.
you make a break for your door, but your biggest fear comes true. as you zip past the window, his fingers scrunch into the back of your pajama shirt and snatch you out of your bedroom into the night in one jerky motion. you tried so hard to avoid the window, but miscalculated how disgustingly long and bendy his arms are.
you don't hit the grass once you're fully outside. he's strong enough that he can lift you higher and higher, until your feet are kicking the empty air and you struggle to breathe because of your shirt collar cutting off your airflow.
he's even more gruesome up close. every bone juts out and his hungry grin eats up most of his face. he licks his teeth as he revels in your fear and inability to escape.
"do you remember what your pa called me?" his grin fades until he's giving you a pointed, annoyed look. the way he shifts between facial expressions isn't human. it's not like when his human self was knocking on your door and getting progressively more and more afraid. it was natural, but now it feels.. alien.
"no! but i remember telling him to let you inside. i-i .. i advocated for you! you can't hurt me after that!"
he looks even more displeased. bored, even. as if he isn't dangling you midair with one hand as you struggle for your life.
it's so dark outside, all you can make out is his grotesque body and the fading candlelight from inside your home. your bedroom window is only a few feet away, right behind you, but you have this gnawing feeling that you'll never get to sleep in your bed again. it feels like this is it.
"he called me perverted."
the pale intruder sets you down on the grass so you can catch your breath. it's no fun if you can't hear him over your own attempts to breathe.
"...so?" you squeak out, turning to run away but his grip on the back of your shirt is as firm as steel. you're rooted to the spot, so close together that your toes nearly touch his.
"i didn't understand his descriptor. me, perverted? sick? the only thoughts on my mind were survival. i didn't care that a woman answered the door. i'd have behaved the same no matter who was on the other side. i'm no untrained dog, you see."
you stop struggling while he monologues to you, it's just wasting energy. he's so tall, it hurts your neck to maintain eye contact, but you focus on that so he doesn't think you're rude and kills you.
"but... i've had ample time to reflect. it was his word choice that brought me back here, mm. i didn't come here to kill you! merely... to see if his words carried any truth to them. he believed i'd make advances on you. weeeelll... here i ammm... let's seeee.."
his free hand trails down your trembling, pajama-clad body, the other still gripping you in place by the neck. you feel his sharp nails during their glide, not cutting you but they're leaving their mark. he wants you to feel that he has claws without outright announcing it.
your bare toes curl into the grass beneath your feet, accepting your fate. nobody is coming to save you, but the kindness you showed his human self wasn't in vain. he's holding back with the way he manhandles you. he doesn't want to harm you like his previous victims, but he isn't giving you in a say in what he does to you. karma, perhaps.
his oversized hand hooks into the southernmost hem of your pajama shirt. it's a matching set you've had for years, your favourite colour and pattern. he tries to unbutton it, but his hands are too uncoordinated. he growls because it's too intricate for him and it bruises his ego.
his solution is to plant both hands on either halves of your shirt and rip it open, buttons flying everywhere and your breasts popping out. you ditched your bra the moment the apocalypse made the temperature spike, so your chest is completely bare to him.
your nipples have been hard this entire interaction, you realize.
"mmph... perverted, yes. he was veeery right. perhaps the only true thing to come out of his mouth!" his hands are cold as death when he gropes your tits, fondling them like they're one of the seven wonders of the world.
it's so.. embarrassing. he's more than twice your height, his body is all wrong as he crunches himself in half so he can get a good look at your chest. then, as if he couldn't get any more inhuman, he kneels down and his tongue slithers out. it shouldn't be this long. his tongue is the size of your forearm.
"my dad was trying to protect me.. he went too far, but you don't get to insult h—" the intruder's tongue shoots from his maw and stuffs itself into your mouth to shut you up. it's not a kiss. his muscle smacks against your uvula, that's how unnaturally long it is.
you pipe down because you realize that arguing with him is futile. his tongue swirls around your nipples once you shut up, coating you in thick, wet trails of spit. he slobbers like a dog and looks into your eyes with his jaw hanging open in a sleazy grin. "he thought i was a monster! thooough, i wouldn't be opposed to gobbling you up..."
"please don't." you say in such a defeated, deadpan tone that he chuckles before he dives back in to slurp at your boobs.
this reminds you of something you saw in a magazine before your dad confiscated it.. motorboating, it was called?
before you finish that thought, he licks downward, as loud and sloppy as possible, until he reaches your navel. your soft pajama pants are almost done fulfilling their mission at covering your lower half. you'll miss those pants.
"a very sweet girl.." he means your taste and your demeanor. "i'd never have been bold enough to do this if i was human! no no, i'd just watch you from across the house. funny how things work out." the pale intruder bites into the waistband of your pants, teasing you with tiny tugs but not fully undressing you. "watch you sleep, maybe... if only i had my camera with me. wonder what happened to it."
despite it being past midnight, you aren't cold. it's humid, even when the sun isn't up. in a way, his cold body cools you down from the muggy environment. it makes your head spin because his tongue is the perfect lukewarm temperature to feel comfortable, even if his hands feel like ice.
the second you feel yourself relaxing into his touch, he yanks you down towards the grass. you're about to fall on your back but his arms snake behind you like a parachute before you can collide with the earthy ground. he makes sure that you're suspended by his hands and that not a single part of your body touches the ground.
"cozy, are you? aren't you glad you didn't swing your flimsy little bat at me?" he folds over you, rubbing hands up and down your back, acting as a barrier between you and the dry grass. then, his hands travel to your waist and rub loose circles there. you can't move, not with your thighs pinned by his gaunt ones. all of him is touching all of you.
"i..." you're speechless. "you came all the way here, just to touch me..? you aren't even going to kill me?" you cringe at your question, but it baffles you why he's lapping at you and squeezing your tits when coldblooded revenge would be easier.
"yup! i'm indulging myself, it's vengeance's next-door neighbour." he answers casually, nipping at your waistband like before, except this time he pulls your pants to your knees. evidently he smells something you don't, because he snarls and forgets all about the pants still bunched at your knees when your pussy is exposed.
...you don't have underwear on, you told yourself you'd do laundry tomorrow...
he dives in, forgetting he's a sentient man and not a feral beast when he smells your pussy.
you squeal out a "mmph!" because his monstrous tongue is parting your folds and licking all over. his unhinged jaw flicks mixtures of his spit and your juices all over your thighs, tummy, and the grass that he has you pinned down to.
his hands dig into your asscheeks so he can hoist you above the ground and lift your privates to his face. his nose works to inhale as much as possible.
against your better judgement, you spread your legs for him because it feels so GOOD. it's difficult to move with your pants still bundled around your knees, so you wiggle them off.
they don't hit the ground. his reflexes don't allow these things to happen.
still holding your ass up with one hand, the other one grabs your crumpled up pajama pants and shoves them between his thighs so he can hump them. it provides him with the slightest relief as he devours you, and it teases what's to come.
the visitor exhales through his nose, huffing and puffing, and the air fans directly onto your clit. when he trills, his throat and jaw vibrate against you. his tongue tickles your ass just from the sheer length of it even when he's zoned in on your cunt.
every monstrous trait of his that unnerved you is now making you whine and twitch like never before. "p-please... keep going, just don't.. bite me.. or eat me.." you know deep down how mortifying it is to plead for him, but you might die if he stops before you can cum.
he snorts, amused. "see who the beggar is now.. the tables turned sweetly for us." the intruder rewards your pleading by fucking you with his tongue. it feels like you might burst when his tongue coils inside of you, the tip of it kissing your cervix.
he's just.. everywhere. he's making sure that you can't focus on anything else. he can feel from the inside out that your spasms signal an orgasm coming on, and he remembers that this is meant to be revenge... you taste so delicious, he was lost in a haze and forgot you aren't meant to be enjoying this.
his tongue withdraws, the bulging wet muscle dripping juices onto your reddened cunt and quivering thighs. it curls in the air, almost like he's licking his own tongue to taste you without giving you the satisfaction of diving back in.
it takes a moment to catch your breath. you don't recognize your voice when it comes. "wh-why'd you stop..?"
"i don't knooow... why didn't you let me in when i needed shelter?" he smirks, licking the puffy skin between ass and pussy, so far from where you're craving him.
you could slap him for that. "i told you a million times! i would have let you in if it wasn't for my dad!" since your hands can't reach him, you go to kick him, but he grabs your foot. you're bent so uncomfortably, and this is not helping. his tongue maps your foot, and you can't bring yourself to look as he suckles on your big toe. what's wrong with him?!?!
"and you.. you killed him and stole his gun!" you can't believe you let yourself get seduced by him. yeah, he's good with his tongue, but he KILLED THE MAN WHO'S RAISED YOU FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE AND CAME HERE TO MOCK YOU FOR IT. your grief and rage were delayed, but now they're coming in full swing—
"i didn't kill him. that is not how i want this family drama to end. i bruised him up, dropped him far from his home, and if he hopes to survive.. somebody must let him into their house. he will beg just as i did. and, while he struggles to survive, i get to fuck his darling daughter."
he uses your momentary astonishment and relief to his advantage. he gives your big toe one last nibble, lazily propping it against his hip as he makes quick work of his pants zipper.
his ministrations go unnoticed by you, though, because you're too busy picturing your father's dire situation right now. he's not one to open up or ask for help eagerly. and without his rifle... no car or radio... you're scared for his safety. and by extension.. yours! what are you gonna do if your dad never comes back home? there's a gaping hole in your bedroom window while the sun is melting people!
his tip nudges at your folds and snaps you from your catastrophic thoughts. oh yeah. you forgot. your whole body jerks away from him, kicking at his sharp ribs, but his hands grab fistfuls of your ass to get you to stop.
"you're disgusting!" you try to spit upward up at him, but because of your angle and squirming it just bubbles onto your lips. he leans down and his hideously long tongue coils out to lick your spit and shut you up again. "give me my father back!" you shout, aiming to bite his tongue, but it's too fast for you.
he slicks the tip of his engorged cock against your folds, rubbing up and down lazily as he watches your fruitless struggle. "in one piece or ten?" he asks with the most cruel smile he could muster, all of his chins looking so shootable.
"you'll be the one in ten pieces!" you hate that your hips instinctively roll towards him. you can't look at his stupid face anymore, your gaze darts down to his swollen cock and it puts his tongue to shame. there is no way that's fitting inside you.
he's savoring the final moments before he officially fucks you. his dick is glossy with your slick and his own tinted precum that drizzles down onto your skin, mixing your fluids as he grinds slowly. his hands grope at your chest and grab your face so you can't look away.
"will i? i think... we'll become one." his cockhead nudges inside you, stretching you wide open for him. there go your thighs, spreading open as they silently beg for more. for someone so creepy, he's too good at this.
he's snickering at your reactions, hooking his fingers into your mouth to force a smile, and smacking your cheeks, just prodding at you to piss you off further. you try to bite his fingers and he thrusts deep to punish you until he's fully sheathed. "i saw the way you ogled me through the door. you aren't a dog yet... still a feeble human... but i saw your tail wagging."
you have no idea what that means, but your eyes roll back as he rocks his hips out and in, out and in. he's not going particularly fast or rough, but the sheer size of him and the way he keeps provoking you makes you feel faint.
"truly a delicious creature." he purrs while he thrusts, the loud slap of skin against skin breaking the dead silence of the forest. the intruder keeps up his handsy streak, kneading at your boobs with one hand while the other grabs your foot again, massaging it until you jolt from the ticklish sensation. "i want to keep you. wouldn't it be tragic if your dearest papa made it back home... to an empty house?" he sneers every time he brings up your father, using him as ammunition.
"i'd never go anywhere with you. you're gross."
"i can't be that horrid. i'm inside of you," thrust, "and you looove it."
"no i don't!"
he doesn't like that. he looks hurt. he hammers into your pussy at a sloppier pace, like your rejection threw his rhythm off.
"i would say 'liar liar pants on fire'... but you kicked yours off because you wanted to be nude for me. rather desperately, might i add."
his face leans down dangerously close to yours and you feel his icy breath fanning on your lips. you angle your head away but his tongue already darts out, breaching your mouth as his lips crash onto yours. it quite literally sounds like he's cannibalizing you, but he's just kissing your lips and can't hold back his hungry moans. you pull away for air but his sticky tongue tugs you back in, showing you no mercy. he sucks on your lips so tightly you wonder if they'll come off.
you're saved when puddles of drool land on your tits and he latches on those instead, lapping the spit up with pleased grunts between every slurp. he doesn't hold back a single sound, too feral to bother with being nonchalant. you and your father turned him into a deranged monster so he's gong to fuck like you one.
he ruts into you so hard that his nose and teeth continuously misfire and poke your chest while trying to lick you clean. your entire body jiggles and you lose all sense of balance.. the only reason you haven't tumbled onto the grass is because he can hold you in place like you weigh nothing. he refuses to let you touch the ground even if it means his fingers and bones dig into you uncomfortably.
his hands never linger on one body part for too long. one moment he's fascinated by your belly button, the next he's pressing down on your throat when it's already hard to breathe.
"i could impregnate you. then you'd haveee to welcome me to your entitled little family."
his sloppy thrusts speed up to a superhuman intensity, as if his own idea excited him.
"what?! ewww! nonono!" it sounds like you're scolding a dog. his jaw hangs open because he's trying to smirk but also trying to cum. "i never want to see you again after this!"
he chews on your ear, cooing "oh, but you will..." into your hair as he shoots ropes of cum deep inside of you. his purrs reverberate through both of your chests with how close he is. you're ready to escape. this signals the end of sex, right? you don't even care that you haven't orgasmed a single time. it's done, finally, hooray!
but.. you feel him swelling inside you instead of softening and pulling out. it feels like there's several tennis balls weighing your pussy down, stretching you to the point of burning.
"why the hurry? stay a while, won't you?" he sneers. you should have known that he had a trick up his sleeve, that he wouldn't let you off this easy.
tears trickle down your cheeks from the stretch, and he licks them up, smooching your eyelids wetly. he almost pities you. "if only i had someone to lick my tears in my most pained hours. the only one to embrace me was death herself!"
"death sounds better than this. ugh, i'm wishing you killed me..." you groan, rocking your hips but his cock doesn't budge. a little bit of cum oozes out onto your thigh and he swipes it with his fingers to lick it up. everything of yours, he wants in his mouth. he has zero concept of privacy or boundaries. just pure greed.
"you lie too much. we both know you would beg for your life if i got violent!"
"i'm going to die anyways. you destroyed my house and separated me from my dad. it would be a mercy kill—"
he shakes his head in disapproval, kissing you to shut you up again. he doesn't even shush you, he sucks on your tongue and lips until you stop your muffled gibberish and wait for it to be over. you've never kissed him back. never will.
when he pulls away, he's licking his lips and the bubbles of spit that got on both of your noses and cheeks. "it's all hypothetical, anyways. i'd much rather kill your father than kill you. you're too... arousing. it would be a waste."
"gross, don't call me that..." you wince, faintly rolling your hips to see if you can break free from him. you still can't, his inflated cock and torrents of cum keep you anchored beneath him, in his grip that can never hold you in one position for too long.
"would you like to strike up a deal?"
"no."
"it involves your papa bear."
you can't help it, anytime he mentions your dad, you scowl. "you need to stop... he was an ass towards you, i get it, but this grudge is outrageous... i did nothing to you and you're blackmailing me."
he licks a wet stripe from your chin to your hairline, cackling at your defiance. "your father is four cities away. maybe five or three if he's been wandering. each night you let me mate with you, i will guide him one town closer." the word 'mate' makes your skin crawl with the implications. "i won't hurt him, so long as you don't hurt me... with your words or your weak, mortal kicks and punches." his sly grin spreads to his ears because he knows he's trapped you. how can you say no? your father is tough, but the sun and visitors are a ruthless combination.
"will you fix my window? and give my dad his rifle back?" you ask, not wanting to look at his smile anymore. if only you weren't facing away from your house, the logs and chimney would be a comforting sight. more comforting than the intruder who's rubbing his pelvis against yours and not dropping his toothy grin. you wonder how his jaw muscles aren't killing him.
"maaaybe. if you say that you looove me."
"why would i?! i'm being held here against my will!" you spit back, thrashing against him but his knot is unrelenting.
"i just want to hear you say it.. will you let your father die because of your pride, hmm?"
you growl. he frustrates you so deeply that you now feel like the animal between the two of you.
the words curdle in your mouth like spoiled food. "i..." his face lights up excitedly the more revolted your expression is. "i love you."
it's not his eyes rolling back into his skull that stuns you... it's him cumming a second time, his knot pulsating as you're flooded with more of his hot seed. whiteness leaks out from your core, dribbling onto your joined thighs.
your three words broke his bravado, but he catches himself quickly and licks your cheeks again. it's just a distraction.. a failed one. he doesn't want you to know he came untouched from a reluctant confession, but no amount of licks to your face can take back how excited your words got him.
he's pathetic.
but you're trapped with him forever now.
hell is real, and the bearded huntsman's daughter is living in it!!
a sequel to this, more guests and neighbours are crushing on you BAD
❥ sfw ꕀ headcanons ꕀ gender neutral reader ꕀ these all assume that the reader is another guest in the protagonist's house rather than being a homeowner themselves. it complicates the crushes/chances of getting together if it's not your home, you get me???
❥ starring the immortal man, bar guy, pale intruder, vigilante, and blinded man. taking requests for part 3!
IMMORTAL MAN
✦ 'crush' is a flimsy word for how yakob feels about you. he recognizes you from another life, and that's why he is drawn to you. his goal is to relearn you, not 'get to know' you.
✦ "there you are. i was getting worried you wouldn't make it. you're tougher than i gave you credit for." is the first thing he says to you. and you're like... what? who??? hello???--?
✦ he's touchy. slinging an arm around you or blotting food from your lips mid-conversation like it's nothing.
✦ but... sometimes yakob says things that make you wonder if he does know you from another life. you do not recognize this man, he is a stranger to you, yet he'll casually mention one of your quirks or memories with a sly grin on his face.
✦ you turn your nose up at a shoddy apocalypse meal and he'll joke about how the days of eating [your favourite food] with [your favourite toppings] and [favourite drink], and [favourite dessert] are long gone. he thinks it's cute when you're bewildered.
✦ "i thought you said it's romantic for a man to remember the little things?" is his go-to response whenever you ask how he knows such intimate details about you. which you never said to him either, but his confidence convinces you.
✦ asks random questions about you, to see if anything's changed between lives. it leads to some interesting conversations. you're wearing a blue shirt, he'll ask "blue suits you pretty damn well. is green still your favourite?" yes he is the mf to ask his crush for their favourite colour.
✦ it hurts that you don't recognize him. when you aren't looking, he stares at you like a pathetic yearning dog as he memorizes your features and falls in love with you all over again.
✦ when he's drunk, he's more desperate and nosy than his cocky sober self. "you really look at me and feel nothing? look into my eyes. no- just- just look, without looking away- you've gotta recognize something. c'mon, i knew it was you before you said a word to me. i don't feel familiar at all? you're sure?"
✦ please return this man's feelings 😭🙏 even if you don't understand or believe in the whole immortality thing, just stay by his side please
BAR GUY
✦ yesenin thought crushes were a fleeting thing of the past. he fully believed he's too miserable to consider romance, that everyone is too crazy for love.
✦ after a few drinks and heart-to-heart conversations, he's smitten and takes his jaded thoughts about love back. your answers always seem to comfort him, even if you're just stating your mind. he likes hearing you talk.
✦ if you get a hangover after your drunken chats, he'll take care of you and will give the homeowner a MOUTHFUL if he tries to test you for signs while you're vulnerable.
✦ when the homeowner checks you for signs in general, yesenin will use his height to intimidate him. he won't let anyone give you a hard time. he's very gentlemanly, offering you a drink the moment you homeowner leaves you two alone.
✦ if you don't drink, he'll be confused but find a way to admire you from it. "you want to be sober when you die, not shitfaced. i see you have lots of dignity left. ha.. you have a heart still."
✦ he will absolutely read you poems from his book, picking out the ones written about lovers. "ahem. i'd like to read you a poem that reminded me of you. you have lots in common with the author's muse.. it says they got married. lucky bastards."
✦ he's the most upfront about his feelings. he's mature and understands how dangerous the world is, that keeping secrets is unnecessary stress.
✦ after a few days of knowing you he'll calmly tell you: "i enjoy our talks more than any other, my good friend. your face, your voice, everything about you keeps me sane. i have to confess now. what if we don't live to see tomorrow? i can't take my feelings for you to my grave, even if it's all so pointless. it'd be insanity to not acknowledge your beauty while people are being gunned down for their teeth and eyes."
PALE INTRUDER
✦ the homeowner answers the door one night and you hear an eerie voice from the porch describing you. you didn't know it, but somebody has been stalking you long before you sheltered in this home.
✦ obviously, you aren't going to be thrown outside and offered to the pale man. so he asks for you every night, when the homeowner answers the door. "i know they're inside. who are they to you? nobody. but to me? ahh.. everything. it's no good that you keep them from me, but i can't forget my manners and break into a full house..."
✦ if you sleep near a window, the sound of scratching wakes you up.
✦ "open the blinds. oooopen sesame." once he knows you're awake. he's determined. "nobody in this house will notice if you slip out. what's keeping you in this purgatory? survival? they'll turn on you soon. me, i would never! i'm riiiight here. come out, where you belong!"
✦ the pale intruder will pspspsps you like you're a cat. you think you're going nuts, hearing cooing noises coming from the walls, but it's him trying to serenade you.
✦ he's always outside. where's the vigilante when you need him 💀
✦ you're almost used to the constant scratching, mewing, whistling, humming, and thumping on nights where he yearns for you particularly bad.
✦ one night, you linger near the peephole after the homeowner goes to bed. the pale man is on the other side, and he flaunts himself for you like a male peacock. he wants you to look at him and convince you that he's cozier than the house you're holed up in.
✦ he also wants you to become a super visitor. "you could get a body like mine if you open the door. i know you don't like your current one, despite it making me ravenous. why delay the inevitable?" ew ew okay he's licking the peephole
✦ "stop playing with your breakable hands. you know what to do... the doorknob is right there." hold on, how does he know that you're fidgeting with your hands if the door is shut? is he that much of a stalker that he knows all your quirks?
✦ you open the windows one morning and blood is smeared on the glass in the crude shape of a cartoon heart. he doesn't know your initials, but he'd have written them if he did. he's corny enough to coat his lips in somebody's blood and leave a mockery of lipstick stain on the window.
✦ "i 🫀 u" with an Actual Human Heart stuck on the windowsill. lovely!
VIGILANTE
✦ crush? he's not gonna call it that. he's not 12 anymore. but you're too special for him to just call you jackass or visitor like everybody else....
✦ he's kept in the neighborhood by 3 things: his brother's burnt house with memories attached to it, the pale intruder who's all over tv, and the hermit's house with his favourite survivor in it.
✦ he brings you stuff from his expeditions. beer, enerjeka, cigarettes, lighters, knives, jewelry looted from VISITORS... when the homeowner answers the door, he makes it clear it's for YOU. "don't let anybody else get their filthy paws on this. i'll blow their heads off."
✦ yes, even if he thinks someone is human, he will shoot them if you say you couldn't drink your gift from him because a guest took it from the fridge. even if it's a total misunderstanding. even if the guest is a totally normal person who apologizes and promises they'll be more careful next time. "i risked my fuckin' neck to bring them that shit! you think i play around when it comes to them?!"
✦ he's... more lenient when it comes to testing you. if you show a symptom of being a visitor, he treats it as if he noticed a sign on himself- making you fix it immediately then snarkily telling you to be careful.
✦ he's so corny after checking your eyes and seeing bits of red. "red eyes, huh? me too. justice never sleeps.. but you better get some shuteye if you wanna survive a visitor attack."
✦ like the protagonist in part 1 of my crush series, he keeps your aura photo in his pocket. "heh, is this your way of tellin me you were a supermodel before shit went down? ...don't ask for it back. it's my lucky rabbit's foot."
✦ he doesn't believe in auras and thinks it's nonsense, but he looks at it like a husband staring at his spouse while dying in a war lmao.
✦ if anyone in the wild asks who that is and why he stares at their photo on his smoke breaks, he hits them with "none of your fuckin' business. you think i'd tell you who they are and let the visitors get them?! no way.. you're one of them! you can't trick me!"
✦ probably wouldn't 'date' you because love is a weakness to him and he's too busy, but he will always come back to the house and check on you.
✦ he's paranoid that you'll get attacked by a visitor. his mind has deluded him into thinking you won't ever turn into one and you're human like him. when he checks you, he comments about you needing more muscle instead of you passing his tests. shooting you isn't a goal of his.
✦ depending on whether you consider yourself strong or weak, he either checks on you because you have a fire inside you that he loves and needs to keep lit... or, if you're weaker, it's because you're not built for this type of world and you're his little responsibility. his prettiest problem fr
BLINDED MAN
✦ he wishes so badly he could see you. he makes excuses to touch your face so he can map it and visualize your appearance in his head. "whoa! i didn't see you there- i mean, well, i didn't hear your voice coming from there..." he chuckles, knowing damn well he purposefully cupped your cheek while chatting and that was no accident.
✦ or he'll slip in questions about your appearance while talking with you at the table. "my hair has never been so long, at least i have no bangs to worry about... haha, what about you? can you relate?"
✦ anytime somebody walks into the kitchen, he perks up in case it's you. he's disappointed whenever it's not. if you see him biting his lip while you're talking and walking at the same time, that's him trying to memorize the sound and pattern of your footsteps.
✦ you are the one person he doesn't talk to about IT. he doesn't want to burden you with its existence, meanwhile he sounds like a rambling madman to everyone else.
✦ the topic only arises if you bring it up first, checking in on him. he tries to deflect your questions because he likes you. "i cannot stop IT from spreading like a plague. no one can. but... i can keep it at bay right here, right now. hey, would you rather have a runny nose forever or a sore throat forever? aha... just because, i mentioned plagues, and you seem to care a lot about me getting sick.."
✦ he's building up the courage to reach for your hand one day. you've checked his sockets and he grabbed at you as a reaction to the pain, but he doesn't count that. he's picturing you two talking and he links hands with you as an affectionate gesture.. but it's so nerve-wracking to him.
✦ he thought he was doomed the moment he laid eyes on IT, that the rest of his sorry existence would be spent warning people and toiling away. but your conversations with him make him feel like his old self. the first person to give him butterflies after thinking he could only feel nauseous dread.
part 2 took a while because this is my first time writing for these guys x___x if they're ooc you saw nothing. if you enjoyed then yiipeee
how your housemates act when they want you so baddd
❥ sfw ꕀ headcanons ꕀ gender neutral reader
❥ starring the protagonist, coat guy, wireface, stoner, enerjeka addict
❥ part 1. more ninah men coming soon in part 2. i can also do nsfw versions if people want them
THE HOMEOWNER/PROTAGONIST
➝ he realizes he's crushing on you when he's laying in bed, unable to sleep. puts his head in his hands and says "fuck." as he realizes he's in deep for someone just a few rooms away.
➝ he tests you for visitor signs as an excuse to touch you. sometimes, he doesn't even bring his shotgun with him because he knows he won't be shooting you. he knows you're human, this is for his own enjoyment.
➝ big fan of caressing your lips as he inspects your teeth, letting his hands linger on yours for too long when checking your hands, and greedily pocketing your aura photo to stare at in his room.
➝ "open up." is an innuendo when he says it during tests. after checking your ears, he'll mumble in them. "all good. i'll be back later."
➝ if you smoke, he'll share cigarettes with you. usually offering you one from his pack and lighting it for you as it's in your lips, but on rarer occasions he takes a drag of his own then passes the cigarette to you for an indirect kiss.
➝ can and will kick guests out for flirting with you. usually he tells people to fuck off if they come to him because they disagree with a guest, but you? just say the word and anyone you dislike is evicted. he listens to you and believes you.
➝ when you're preparing to sleep on the sofa, he lurks in the doorway. his voice stays monotone but you can catch him rubbing the back of his neck and that's the only tell that he's antsy. "think you'll be safer in my room tonight. grab your things."
➝ he doesn't put up a fake hero act where he sleeps on the floor to give you the bed. he tires himself out with his peephole interrogations, then collapses into bed and grabs onto you while you're sleeping. he isn't bold enough to do it while you're awake.
➝ when you tease him in the morning, he'll grumble into your hair, "if you saw half the crazy people that came to my door, you'd understand why i want you here..."
COAT GUY
➝ coat guy is drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he can't explain it, but being around you eases the chill. it takes him a bit to realize he's crushing on you because he spends so long thinking this is just a temperature thing.
➝ the way you comfort him and suggest ways to warm him up is what makes him realize he's smitten. everyone else suggests obvious surface-level ideas like hot baths before they disregard him. you never give up on him, using your hands and chest to warm him when all else fails.
➝ "ffforgive me. i'm not usually lllike this." he stammers out, loafing on you like a cat. he's freezing, but you enjoy the contact because it gives you relief from the muggy temperature. he buries himself in your clothes, skin, and hair and melts into you like he has no bones. first guest to be made of pudding and jelly.
➝ this man will lap at your sweat like a cat and not feel an ounce of shame. he apologizes to you of course, but those are just pleasantries. he needs you. "please, dddon't think that i'm freakish. i cannot wwwarm myself by conventional mmmeans."
➝ coat guy follows you around. he usually paces in circles because he hopes that physical movement will warm him up, so you don't bat an eye when you first meet him and he enters rooms right after you.
➝ you get suspicious fast. he's always in the same room as you, even if he has no business there. he comes in when you do and leaves when you do. he walks into a room just to stare at you and chatter his teeth, crowding your space.
➝ "is it nnnnecessary..? wwwhat about me?" he whines when you open the fridge or pour yourself cold water.
➝ he pouts outside the bathroom door when you're occupying it. "it's so cccold out here. i'd appreciate iiif you could.. finish up a little fffaster, though i have nnno rrright to ask that."
➝ he feels unlovable, wondering why you let him touch you and cling to you. he's tried to confess a few times when it's just the two of you, but he stumbles over his words and ends up insulting himself, too cowardly to tell you he loves you. but you know. it's obvious, he's shown it with his actions. you're more than just a heater to him.
WIREFACE
➝ he is so talkative, but you can't understand a word of each other! he compliments you to your face since he knows you can't translate it.
➝ while you're eating next to him, "blf ollp hl tllw irtsg mld! r dzmmz vzg BLF!" (you look so good right now! i wanna eat YOU!) you smile and offer him some of your meal, assuming he's just enthusiastic about the food.
➝ wireface caught feelings for you immediately, and would have confessed immediately if it wasn't for the language barrier.
➝ he's a little nervous about outright kissing you on the lips, even though that gesture transcends language... because what if he's reading the situation wrong, and his crush ISN'T reciprocrated? what if when you blush and thank him, you're actually saying that you're taken? he doesn't know, and it eats him alive.
➝ when you help clean his mouth wounds, he yips out his sneaky compliments. "blfi orkh ziv hl prhhzyov! gvoo nv gl kfxpvi fk zmw r droo." (your lips are so kissable! tell me to pucker up and i will.)
➝ he loves talking at you about random things from his past or what fictional characters or songs you remind him of. he will absolutely sing you popular love songs from his country to serenade you, even if all you do is giggle and clap and don't pick up on the lyrics. he'll sing you songs he heard at weddings.
➝ whatever you say to him, he's listening with a dreamy look on his face. he has no idea what you're talking about ever, but he loves how your voice sounds. he loves that someone is including him and not stitching his mouth shut, for starters.
➝ always going "wow!" "oooh!" "aaah!" in response to random stuff you do, like opening jars or passing your visitor tests.
➝ he's practicing for the day you get your hands on translators, whether it's books or devices. when you're sleeping, he'll rehearse this whole romantic speech he's been drafting for a while. everyday he adds a few new sentences because of the fun stuff you get up to together. he longs for it to be heard.
STONER
➝ everyone assumes you're already dating.
➝ he calls you duuuuuuude to show you're his favorite dude. or dudette if you're a girl. dudetteeeeee. petnames like 'hottie' slip out when he's absolutely baked. he called you a sexy beast once and you've never forgotten it.
➝ when he sees you he lights up like a kid in a candy store and smacks the empty spot on the washing machine so you can chill next to him. "yoo! you were gone for like, ten years!!! don't leave me hangin, c'mere!" you just left to grab some water...
➝ he likes having his arm around you, but he never does it with anyone else when they chat together. he smacks your shoulder or knee whenever you two laugh.
➝ he thinks you're the smartest person ever. you use the word 'cataclysm' and he's like "nooo wayyy.. did you come up with that? bars!! we gotta get you in, like, a studio. i'd be your groupie or whatever they're called bro."
➝ this one is obvious, but he shares his weed with you. once you ate the last edible and he joked about regurgitating it for him like a bird... except he wasn't joking. no matter how many "sike!" or "just kidding!"s he adds to his flirty comments, he can't hide that he wants you as more than a buddy.
➝ he flirts with you via jokes and saying things about how you don't have cooties or how you're his favourite roomie. "if shit goes down, we can be zombies together! you'd look hella smexy as one, man, i'd let you eat my brains!"
ENERJEKA ADDICT
➝ having a crush on you is going to give him a heart attack.
➝ when you walk in the room, he stops what he's doing to do something impressive. the type of guy to start doing push ups and say "sixty seven... sixty eight... sixty nine..." to make it seem like he's been working out this whole time.
➝ he'll let you try his guzzler hat on and slurp some of the enerjeka. the entire time he's grinning, "isn't this like a kiss??? my lips touched it before yours did! we basically just made out. that's crazy."
➝ he doesn't trust easily, despite being so upbeat and friendly to people. he thinks you're cute the first time he sees you, yeah, but he doesn't try to woo you until he's certain that you aren't a backstabber. he thinks very highly of you, this crush isn't just because of your looks or his loneliness. he'd take you with him if he finds a better place to stay.
➝ "you like enerjeka? not to brag, but my mouth tastes like it 24/7. if someone kissed me, they'd totally taste it. sooo, if we run out and you're thirsty, then like..."
➝ you two have deep conversations often. what happens after we die? did humans deserve an apocalypse for destroying the environment? are visitors evil or are we the bad guys?
➝ he strays from those topics after a while and instead asks is it worth it to date people during the cataclysm? what type of guys did you go for back in the day? imagine if we ran away together?
➝ he openly calls you his best friend but he frowns as he says it because he wants you to be more.
end
i hope you enjoyed my first time writing for ninah :b
