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Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Brains On A Platter And All, Part 3 of NINAH Reader-Inserts
Stats:
Published:
2025-10-22
Words:
478
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
7
Kudos:
15
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
661

another love song about shit

,

Summary:

Wireface is your slaughtered vomit doll.

Notes:

wireface snuff tape WHOS WITH ME BRO

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Blood coated the walls, it was everything you could see. The sharp stench of iron flooded your nostrils, and you lovingly breathed it in. Wireface muffled a noise, but the gag rendered him speechless—better than stitches, you were so thoughtful. It was a shame you couldn't hear him thank you. 

"Please, I love you so much." Your hand pumped his cock frantically, your wrist a blur on his shaft. Precum drooled all over your hand, which encouraged you. "Don't escape me. You can't. I love you." You were so lucky he stayed with you. 

The house reeked of death, and it was your fault. You took his shotgun and blew everyone's head off. You barely remembered it, but it repeated in Wireface's mind—all because he told you no. "This is how it's meant to be, baby," you whispered hotly in his ear, all while your fingers toyed with his cock. 

Wireface bucked his hips out of pure desperation—desperation to escape? 

His mind ran rapidly, unable to create a coherent thought. Maggots churned in his stomach with each pump of your hand you gave him, rendering him into a leaking, rutting freak. "Ammmphhhh..." He muffled into the gag, saliva stuck to it. 

"Don't you love me too?" You snapped yourself upward and pressed the knife to his throat before you quickly sliced it. Crimson gushed from his shredded vocal cords, and he drowned in a puddle of his blood. "You have the most fuckable neck wound I've seen, baby boy." You slid your fingers into the gaping hole, the squelching echoed in the room. 

It hypnotized you, held you in the moment—you were fucking sick in the head. 

Wireface's face was etched in pure agony, the prettiest boy you've ever seen. You smeared the blood across his shaft and jerked him off harder, using the fluid that ran through his veins as lubricant for his corpse's cock. Morals were desolate in the apocalypse, and you were sure only sissies stuck to them. "Good boy, you're daddy's princess, aren't you?" 

He was limp in your grip, and you helplessly ground yourself into his body. You were addicted to how powerless he was, encouraged to lower your head and eat out his wound. "The prettiest corpse. So precious unlike them." Wireface was pure in your eyes, purer than death. Your tongue lapped up the crimson that oozed from the wound, and you were drunk off the iron that flooded your mouth. "The sweetest girl for his daddy." 

Your heart skipped once an idea popped in your head, and you pulled your head away for the moment to shove your fingers down your throat. Vomit covered his corpse after your stomach twisted, and you loved, loved how utterly sick you were. Wireface was your slaughtered vomit doll, and you imagined the amount of dresses you'd stick him into. 

Notes:

twt: anyaabortion