Info - size kink, vocal reader. Bad intentions, unprotected sex, hair pulling, biting, blood, manhandling, hook up, Dom make
She was a mean girl. I felt like I could tell just from looking at her. There were things in life that she should have cared about but didn’t. I wondered if she felt guilty living such a carefree life.
“Hello little lamb,” I crooned as I sidled up to her. From the light of interest in her eyes I assumed she’d be quite interested. This wouldn’t be a hard kill.
“Hello, I’m y/n,” she said. She held out a well manicured hand. Her skin showed no signs of earth wear and tear as mine did. When my scared hand covered hers she shivered.
“You’re so much bigger than me…..”
“Lee,” I finished for her.
“Lee,” she crooned back.
“Yes darling,” I smirked.
“Darling?” She asked with a blush. “Oh I could just eat you up.”
“Oh my dear, I don’t think you know what you’re saying,” I admonished her.
She squealed in delight when I picked her up. She seemed to enjoy how small she was in comparison to me. I had her in the bathroom stall and up against a wall in seconds. Her petite body was so easy to move around. Eating her after this would be like breaking a tooth pick.
I licked my fingers and swiped them slowly through her entrance. She shuddered with delight. She already tasted good.
“Fuuuuuck,” I moaned as my cock head entered her pussy. Her breath hitched dramatically.
“So fucking tight,” I growled. I had to be careful about pushing inside.
“It feels like a monster,” she gulped.
“Yeah baby, a monster to possess that pussy,” I whispered in her ear. She shuddered all over again, I loved how reactionary she was. I could feel her pussy becoming more slick and my thrusts hadn’t even started.
“Take me,” she begged. She didn’t know just how much taking I would do.
I grabbed her hair and twisted it around my arm. I yanked her head back. I began to push my dick inside her over and over.
“Holy fuck,” she whined. I chuckled into her skin and bit down gently on her neck.
“Yes! Yes,” she breathed. She was panting.
“You’re like a bitch in heat,” I teased.
“I’ll be your bitch, I’ll be your anything,” she hissed.
“My little prey,” I crooned. My teeth were ripping at her skin but she didn’t even seem to care.
“Are you making me bleed, that’s so fucking hot,” she whimpered. “You’re like a vampire.”
“You taste delicious darling,” I complimented her.
“I’m close oh fuck I’m so close,” she was nearly squealing on my cock. I grabbed her sides and bounced her up and down. Her small body was like a cocksleeve for me.
“Such a tight, little, thing,” I groaned as I slammed my cock inside. “M’gonna fill ya up.”
“AHHHH!” She began to scream as I started to cum. I could feel her tight pussy squeezing me.
“Good girl, good girl,” I praised her. I noticed her neck was still bleeding. This would be the time if any, but damn that cunt had been the best I’d ever had.
“I think I’ll keep you around for a bit,” I mused.
Don’t worry just yet, guys! @sufferingstarlight’s blog disappears every now and then. It usually comes back around a day or two—maybe more. Don’t lose hope just yet!
Info - daddy kink, pregnant reader, pregnant sex, rough sex, breeding kink, attempting to give oral
“Morning baby,” Timothée said with groggy tone. I smiled with my eyes still closed. He kissed my cheek.
“Happy daddy’s day,” I hummed as he ran his hand over my swollen stomach. It was the first Father’s Day since I’d found out I was pregnant.
“Ohh, don’t get me started,” he chuckled darkly. He gave me another kiss before getting up. It took me a moment to let the words sink in.
I jumped up and speed walked to the bathroom. Timothée was calmly brushing his teeth as if he hadn’t just rocked my world.
“Yes?” He asked.
“So,” I said casually. “Calling you daddy turns you on?”
I made sure to track his expression when I said the word. He bit his bottom lip. I loved how I saw movement in his boxers.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Timothée asked as I approached him.
“I’m not doing anything daddy,” I said innocently. I tried to get down on my knees.
“No, no, come on baby, you’re pregnant,” Timothée said and gently pulled me up.
“But daddy you’re hard,” I teased.
“Fuck, you have such a pretty voice you know that?” He asked me.
“Thank you daddy,” I said happily.
“Fucking hell, say it again and I’m going to fuck you up against this wall,” he admitted.
“Daddy I-“
His lips were on mine. He was touching me everywhere. He was being rougher than he had been recently. He was tearing down my pajama pants. When we separated, his eyes were dark tunnels. I felt wetness growing between my legs.
“You gonna be a good girl for daddy?” He asked me. I nodded eagerly. Without breaking eye contact he reached between my legs and swiped his fingers through my slick. He sucked the wet digits. His eyes rolled back in his head.
“You taste so much better pregnant,” he growled.
“You made me this way. All those times we fuck raw. You’re so good at putting your seed inside me,” I whispered. I watched Timothée gulp. His eyes were so full of lust.
“Wanna make it one more load?” He asked as he breathed heavily.
“Please!”
He picked me up. His cock was throbbing. My stomach wasn’t too big for this thankfully. His dick was inside me in moments. He began to thrust and I was gasping.
“Baby doll, you feel like heaven. You’re doing so good for daddy,” he praised me. I was keening, nearly mewling in pleasure.
“You’re s-so b-ig,” I moaned.
“That’s right baby, you are taking daddy’s thick fucking monster cock,” he grunted. His fingers bit deliciously into my skin. He was buried to the hilt inside me.
“Look at those gorgeous tits,” Timothée smirked as my breasts bounced. His skin had a sheen of sweat as he plunged into me over and over again.
“This tight fucking cunt was made to be bred,” he breathed. He crashed his mouth to mine again. He sucked on my tongue and my teeth brushed his lips.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I couldn’t stop swearing as he hit the sweet spot inside me over and over.
“Inside me, inside, don’t pull out,” I pleaded. “I wanna be bred again.”
“That’s right, I’ll never pull out of you,” he promised. He moaned desperately into my mouth and he began to cum. The perfect substance filled me up. The heavenly feeling pushed me over the edge. I was orgasming as well. My walls fluttered around his cock as I wailed. I was screaming the pleasure was so overwhelming.
“That’s it pretty girl, I love those screams,” Timothée gasped.
We were both panting wildly. The feelings were fading as he gingerly lowered me. Before I knew it we were both on the floor. I could still feel the warm cum.
Info-friends to lovers, pining, doing Timmy's makeup, mention of lingerie, being catty to Timothée's gf, tickling, cock warming, best friends from childhood, mention of masturbation, jealousy, finger sucking, loud sex, neighbors hearing sex
We'd been best friends for ages. We'd grown up together. People always thought we were either related or a long time couple. We weren't either, just best friends. This has proved a problem when Timothée had started dating Miranda, because I got jealous and so did she. She hated me, but Timothée hadn't stopped spending time with me.
Right now we were having our monthly sleepover. I was painting his nails pink and black.
"Your hands are so nice, I wish I had hands as nice as you," | sighed.
"Hey stop your hands are adorable," he swatted me playfully.
"You know what happened the other day?" He asked, grabbing a piece of pop corn.
"Hmmm?" | asked as I concentrated on doing his nails perfectly.
"On our friendaversary post, someone from highschool congratulated me on my happy marriage and asked when the babies would be showing up. They obviously didn't read what I wrote. I thanked you for being my best friend, not wife," he laughed.
"I don't know, l'd have your babies," I said without thinking. I realized what I said and looked up at him. His mouth hung open and he looked shocked.
"I was kidding Timmy," I saved myself. He let out a shaky laugh.
"Okay, now for your makeup," I said excitedly. I was excited because I'd get to sit in his lap. I straddled him with the supplies. His phone rang as I began.
"Hey baby," he said and I rolled my eyes. He mouthed at me to be nice. He put her on speaker.
"Can you come over, I got new lingerie," she said sensually. I tried not to gag. Timothée looked at me. He was so pretty, and I would die if he chose her over our long time tradition, but who would deny their girlfriend in new lingerie?
"Mirri," he said guiltily. "You know what day it is."
"Friday?" She said sweetly.
"The fifteenth, you know every fifteenth I have a sleep over with y/n," he said carefully.
"Oh you can stand her up once," she snapped.
"I can't stand her up if I'm already at hers," he said weakly.
"You're already there?" He demanded.
"Hi Miranda," | called.
"And what position are you in?" She asked.
"What?" He said shakily.
"I'm in his lap, doing his makeup," I bragged.
"This is ridiculous," Miranda said and hung up.
"Sorry," I lied to him. He smirked.
"No you're not," he said and flipped us so he was over me and tickled me.
"Stop, I am sorry," I begged laughing so hard tears entered my eyes.
"Come on, time for the photo shoot," he smiled. We always switched into each others clothing and took pictures. Later we sat together on the couch and looked through them.
"That one, post that one, you look adorable," he said.
"Yeah?" I asked and looked up at him. We were quiet for a moment, he ran a tentative finger from my cheekbone to my lips. Before I knew what I was doing I took his finger into my mouth. He moaned as I swirled my tongue around it, tasting the metal of his rings.
"Y/n," he gasped.
"I love you," I said. He pulled his finger from my lips.
"I love you too," he said.
"No, Timothée, my Timmy," I said desperately and straddled him. I grabbed onto the front of his shirt and clenched the fabric.
"I'm IN love with you. I want you," I said.
"In love with me?" He blinked several times.
"I know you're with Miranda, but-"
"Don't pretend she even holds a candle to you," he growled, and suddenly I was flush against him.
"Do you know how long l've wanted you? How long I've waited for you to realize we're soulmates?" He asked me.
"Really?"
"I've been in love with you since I was five. I was losing hope, so I tried with Miranda, but it's only ever been you that I love," he breathed out desperately.
"Oh, Timmy, my Timmy," | said, nearly crying in gratitude.
"I've always been yours," he said and kissed my hand.
"It'll make me a terrible boyfriend, but l've gotta have you. I've waited too long," he said gathering me to him. I beamed and kissed him full on the mouth. We both gasped, the feeling was heavenly and perfectly right.
"Why on earth weren't we doing this before?" I moaned into our wild kiss.
"I have no idea," he whimpered. Soon we were desperately ripping each others clothes off. He held me at arms length for a moment. He was grinning as his eyes drank in my figure. He gulped, closed his eyes and shook his head.
"You are unbelievably attractive," he groaned.
"So are you," I panted.
"I can't believe l'm going to touch your body. You are the first thing I masturbated to, I felt so guilty but it felt so good," he told me.
I tackled him and was kissing him hard. He whined into my mouth and guided his cock inside me. I sucked in a sharp breath as I felt the fullness.
"Please, oh Timothée please don't feel guilty, fuck me like you've always dreamed," I demanded. He switched us so he was over me. He attached our mouths and kissed me desperately as he fucked into me.
Neither of us could stay quiet. My neighbors even pounded on the wall but I couldn't stop for a second. His body, oh his body, and his lips, and his noises.
"Fuck, mmmmmffff, your skin tastes so good," he moaned as he peppered kisses all over my breasts. He lapped at my nipple.
"F-fuck, Timmy, this feels so good. You're my best friend and my soul mate and I would have your babies. I love you so damn much," I whimpered and arched up into his body. His hands were all over me.
"I love you," he sucked on my neck and groaned into my skin. He grabbed my ass, and hooked an arm under me so we were closer. I locked my ankles around him.
"I can't be close enough to you," he whined.
"I love hearing you, oh I can just hear the years of pining in your voice. Why didn't you scream at me that it could be so good," | pleaded with him.
"I didn't want to lose you."
"You'll never lose me, never ever," I promised.
We were kissing again. His lips were hot and needy. I rolled my body against him.
"Can I cum? Can I cum inside you like I've dreamed for so long?" He begged.
"Please, please fill me," | gasped. He screamed as his cock began to shoot inside me. I was next and I was bathed in star light as I shattered. I was repeating his name over and over.
"Oh, that was so good," Timothée moaned and buried his face in my neck.
"It really was," I sighed. I rubbed his back and smiled to myself.
"I'm so happy right now I could cry," he whispered.
"You've got me baby and I'm not going anywhere. You're my boyfriend now as well as my best friend," I told him.
Warnings: toxic male behavior, talks and mentions of death and dying, cemetery, not proof read
Chapter 5 - Day 5
"So, grim reapers can cook too? Let me add that to the list of random abilities you seem to possess," I said as I took in the array of food on the dining room table. Bacon, eggs, oatmeal. "You made pancakes too?"
"Actually, they're crepes." He seemed proud of himself, but also the slightest bit timid, like he wanted to make sure everything was to my liking. He stood in the entry way as I took a seat. I filled my plate with three glorious pieces of bacon, a hearty scoop of eggs and two of the crepes-not-pancakes.
"I gotta say," I said, as I shoveled a fork full of the stuff into my mouth. "Pancakes are better." I looked up, my cheeks stuffed with food. Timothee stood there, staring at me, a hint of a smile plastered on his face and I realized he looked more like he was lost in thought...and maybe admiring me. He quickly realized I noticed shook his head, as if erasing the expression from ever existing.
"Are you not gonna eat?" I asked, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the amount of food I had on my plate.
"I don't really need to eat," Timothee said, shrugging. "But I'll sit with you."
I watched him as he walked effortlessly to the table, if I didn't hear the slightest clack of his shoes on my hardwood floor, I would have assumed he was floating. He pulled out a chair and took a seat.
"Lemme guess, grim reapers feed off of a portion of the dead's souls, giving them sustenance until the next victim they reap passes?"
"Yes, actually."
My eyes snapped up, meeting his. There was a mixture of seriousness and amusement in them, and it was a mixture that made my stomach flip in a way that I wasn't expecting. This time I shook my head and scooped up the rest of my food with my fork.
"You're fucking weird, man. Speaking of, I've got work today and a date tomorrow, so would you mind keeping the gloomy stalker show to a minimum? I can't have another outburst like I did the other day. Josie is already sick of my shit as it is."
When he didn't respond I looked back over at him. His hands were in white knuckled fists on the table, if he were holding a glass, I'm sure it would have shattered into a million pieces. His dark hair curled over his eyes, so this time I couldn't make out their demeanor, though if it matched his fists, it wasn't a good sign.
"A date? Really Y/n?" Timothee finally said.
"Uhm, yeah? Why is there some rule that bars me from going on a date before I die?"
"No, but maybe I should make one," he said under his breath.
"What was that?" I asked, hearing every word he'd said. Was he jealous? All he was supposed to be here for was collecting my soul.
"Nothing. Is this date with a boyfriend?"
"Not that it's any of your business," I said even though the thought of Tristan and I being more than just friends almost made my breakfast come back up. "He's an old friend that's liked me for at least a decade. Last week, before you showed up, I agreed to give him a chance over dinner and a movie."
"So, there's no boyfriend?"
"Why do you care?" I pretended to be annoyed.
He smirked at my tone, and even though the fact that he seemed so interested in my love life, or lack thereof, should have bothered me, it did the exact opposite.
"I don't. It's just that sometimes the goodbyes are messy when there's a lover involved, so you might not want to make him any promises on this 'date'." He put the last word in finger quotes.
The rest of that day went by shockingly quick and uneventful, though Timothee couldn't resist a casual jump scare or two. He'd walk behind me, unknown to anyone else and run a finger across the back of my neck or blow into my ear. Each tease made me want him to push me against a wall again, run his nose against my neck and breath my 'underworldly' scent in. And weirdly enough, I started to like the sound of that.
Darling, you smell like the underworld.
Day 5
I slid on my strappy black dress, the one I pretty much reserved for dates, disappointed that Timothee wasn't around to see it on me. I hadn't seen much of him, which was weird considering I couldn't get rid of him lately. I tried to push away that feeling. The feeling of missing someone you have no right to. The empty chest feeling that is only cured by one person's presence.
The only thing I didn't like about that dress was how much it showed. It wasn't as revealing as it could be, but it still showed the one part of me I always tried to cover. My collar bones. It wasn't that they were bad, they were actually quite nice. It was the dark, swirling birthmark staining my skin on my left collar bone. I'd tried everything from makeup and concealers, that eventually just melted off of it. To removal that even lasers couldn't touch. It was just...a part of me. Every time I wore this dress, I watched as my date's eyes travel down to it. Normally, I'd wear a cardigan to cover it up, but with mine and Tristan's fifteen years of friendship, he saw it before.
I made my way to the semi-fancy Italian restaurant, already limping in the heels I shouldn't have worn. It wasn't until I walked inside and met Tristan at the table, he already reserved for us, that Timothee took a seat. Right next to Tristan. I wasn't unaware to Timothee's eyes sweeping over my body. The last few days he'd only seen me in casual clothes, nothing this fancy. Then I saw it. His eyes locked on my birthmark.
I shot him a look, the irritation evident in my eyes and face. Tristan looked in the direction of Timothee, a confused look on his face, but, of course, couldn't see him. Tritan looked around the room, wondering who I could be giving this look of disdain to. Little did he know he was sitting right next to him.
"Thanks for giving me this chance," Tristain said.
I hid my cringe. Why did he make it seem like he was interviewing for a job.
"We've been friends forever, Tris, why wouldn't I give you a chance."
Beside Tristan, Timothee rolled his eyes. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, watching me in amusement.
Tristan perked up at my answer, hope filling his eyes. Timothee pushed out his bottom lip into a pout shook his head in mock sadness. Then I remembered what he said the day before. Don't make any promises. So instead, I just smiled at him.
We placed our orders and drank our drinks awkwardly while we waited. I hated how strange this felt, even if Timothee wasn't sitting in between us, Tristan and I had dinner together many times, why did he have to make something as causal as eating food together feel so different this time.
"So, y/n," Tristan said, breaking my train of thought. "I've been thinking and, I really think you should open up a bit."
Timothee made a face of mock shock and put an index finger to his mouth in thought.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, not able to hide the slight attitude brewing inside of me.
"It means I know you like me. And for some reason you won't let me in. So, I think tonight is the night that that happens."
"Let you in? Wha the fu-"
Sensing the mood, the waiter approached with our plates and politely placed them in front of us and walked away without asking any questions.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I finished my sentence.
"It means that this is the way the rest of tonight is going to go: we're going to eat this food, and I'm going to pay for it. Then we're going to go to the movie you picked out at 8, which I am also paying for, then you're going to take me to your house and we're going to do what I say from that point on."
I was shocked into silence, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. I'd known Tristan for fifteen years and he'd never once acted this way. I looked over at Timothee and I almost wished I hadn't. His face was almost dark with rage. His eyes normally a greenish-blue color was now completely black. His furrowed and close to his eyes and he worked his jaw in a way that I'd only seen people do before a fight. Then, he stood up, the chair behind him fell to the ground causing Tristan and a few people in the surrounding area to gasp. Our waiter came over and picked up the chair and whispered a polite and confused "I'm sorry." Timothee made his way to the front of the restaurant and slid out of the door once a busboy held it open for a older couple to come in. And suddenly, I felt a lot less safe without him sitting at the table with me. This new side of Tristan seemed sinister.
Tristan shoveled a ravioli into his mouth, glaring at me. "Are you not going to eat?"
"I'm not hungry," I said through my teeth.
The door opened again, and I heard the sound of a familiar voice. I turned around and there he was, Timothee. My grim reaper. I didn't hide the smile on my face, I couldn't help it. This time it was clear everyone in the room could see him. I watched as he spoke in a whisper to the busboy at the door. Timothee glanced in my direction and winked. Then the busboy looked over at us and nodded. Instant relief flooded my entire being.
I wasn't sure how he was able to change so quickly, but he was now wearing a very expensive looking suit, all black with small accents of red and a pin attached to the collar that was none other than a scythe. The entire restaurant quieted and watched as he walked, in seemingly slow motion, to our table. All eyes, including mine and including Tristan's were on him. The busboy followed behind and quickly pulled out the chair that Timothee was sitting in moments before.
"Y/n," Timothee greeted me, pulling my hand into his and kissing the top of it. Already, I felt my core turn molten. His lips felt like fire and ice on my skin.
"Who is this man?" Tristain said, disgusted.
"You must be Tristain," Timothee said extending a hand. When Tristain didn't take it, he elegantly curled his fingers into a first. "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but it's unfortunately the exact opposite. Tell me, does it bring you pleasure to try and take advantage of women, or do you do it because your dick is small?"
I snorted and spat out some of my drink. I could see Timothe's smirk forming along his profile.
"Excuse you?"
"What do they call that these days? Small dick energy?"
I covered my mouth with my palm, resisting the urge to laugh.
"Who are you?"
"I'm a...close friend of y/n's." Timothee said, putting an emphasis on the word close that made me bite my lip.
"Wow, I've waited all this time for you to give me a chance y/n and you just take in some twink off the street?"
"Tristain!"
Timothee shrugged, "I've been called worse." Then he leaned in closer, luckily the rest of the restaurant went back to their food and conversations. "Allow me to tell you how the rest of tonight is going to go..." Timothee's gaze hardened and instantly Tristan's eyes glossed over, his mouth hung open, and he was transfixed on Timothee, as if he was being hypnotized. "You're going to get up from here and you're going to leave."
"I was just about to leave, yeah," Tristan said calmly.
"And when you leave, you will not contact y/n again."
"Who?"
"Good, good," Timothee praised and selfishly I wished it was me he was praising instead. Then, he took a fistful of Tristans shirt and pulled him closer, "and if you do," Timothee spoke so softly I could barely hear what he said. "I will kill you myself. And trust me, you don't want to see what kind of death a reaper is capable of."
Tristan nodded and stood up and waved. "Enjoy your meal," he said as he made his way to the door. I watched until he left, waited a few minutes to be sure he wouldn't reappear and turned back around. Timothee was already sitting in his seat.
"Will he be, okay?" I asked.
"You still care about that?"
"I mean I don't want him to die on the way home. He seemed out of it."
"Unfortunately, he'll be fine."
The waiter stopped by and took away Tristan's plate. Timothee nodded politely and focused back on me.
"You don't own me you know," I said, in a voice that should have sounded headstrong but was anything but. As time went on it seemed more and more to me like that's exactly what I wanted. "You're just here to collect my soul."
"Technically, I do. I am sent here to watch you, look over you until your time is up. I am meant to protect you. Though, this situation is unlike one I have ever encountered."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"You should eat," Timothee said, changing the subject. "Eat your dinner, and I'll take you to that movie."
"Okay, but you have to keep talking."
Timothee nodded. Only resuming the conversation once I scooped a bite of lasagna into my mouth.
"Most of the souls, at least everyone I've collected have not been able to see me. I wasn't expecting it to have this type of effect on me."
I swallowed my lasagna hard as he said the words.
"I don't own you. No," he started, then reached out and brushed my hair away from my collar bone. He let his finger graze my birthmark. I shudderd at the touch. "But I'd like to. Very much."
Fuck.
He scooted up, his chest flush against his side of the table and one of knees made their way in between my legs. He dropped a long arm beneath the table and slid his palm up my leg. I dropped my fork. "I wish I could be the blood that traveled through your veins, the air that you breath into your lungs." His index finger grazed my core through my panties and I jumped, hypersensitive to the touch. My plate clanging against the table, my glass tipping over.
"Can we go?" I pleaded.
"Eat your food. All of it."
I started to protest.
"Or do I need to feed it to you?"
I shoveled in the rest of my lasagna and downed my entire diet coke. My skin tingling as Timothee gave me small touches under the table. We walked out moments later, my knees weak. Timothee laced an arm around my waist, holding my up and against him. His temperature freezing against my hot skin. We began walking in the direction of the movie theater, but somehow between soft touches and him pressing his nose into my hair we strayed off the path.
"Look!" I said, pointing to a cemetery. "Let's go in there."
"What about your movie," Timothee called after me.
"It's already 8:35, it's already started."
"I loathe cemeteries," Timothee groaned.
"What!?" I pulled his cold hand into mine and drug him into the foggy gates of the local cemetery. "A grim reaper scared of a graveyard!? This is where the bodies of all those souls you take go!"
"I didn't say I was scared. I just don't like them."
"Why?" I teased. It was getting dark, the cemetery would close soon, but for some reason I felt compelled to go in there. Like I needed to be there. "If you're scared say you're scared." I climbed upon a stone bench next to a large oak tree. Timothee stood in front of me and for the first time I was eye level with him. Then it hit me. "I've got eight days to live." I said it out lout without even meaning to. "Eight days to live and...I've not even gotten the chance to live."
Timothee looked at me and maybe it was because we were eye level for the first time, but it seemed like he really saw me. "If it makes you feel any better," he said, taking my arms and draping them over his shoulders. He circled his around my waist, pulling my closer into him. He ducked his head slightly, running his nose along my chest, stopping at my birth mark. He kissed it lightly causing my back to arch. His touch there felt like dark magic and sin. "I wish it was anyone other than you."
"Why?"
"Because now that I know you exist, I don't want you to cease to."
And before his lips found mine, they hovered there, his cold breath swirling and mixing with my warm breath, becoming too intoxicating for me to pretend I didn't need him now. His lips skated across mine effortlessly, like a dance we'd practiced for eternity. My hands slid into his dark, curly hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist, earning a soft groan from him. He turned us around and sat on the bench. He kissed me like it was the first and last kiss he'd ever have. Like sadness and hope mixed together to form a melancholy war between life and death.
