Double-Edged Sword - $UICIDEBOY$

Cherish The Dead

I forgot to give a visual for Pouya- so, there ya go^^^

    Scrim's arms swept underneath you, and you were off of the couch and being carried through the building. You squealed and kicked your legs happily in his arms. He passed by Ghoste and Pouya who were quietly pointing at a laptop in a back room. When you kicked your legs at them and felt your skirt flourish; Ghoste's face turned red.
    "What is this place?", you asked dreamily as Scrim kicked open a wooden door.
    "I used to record here, and I kept it safe for the future."
    Scrim used his back to close the door, and soon after he set you down so you stood on soft rug. You kicked off your shoes an dug your toes into the fabric. His grin slashed open your heart, and you both urgently began to make out. The pent up heat between your minds had connected into one. Smoke for smoke. His hands grabbed roughly at your sides and squeezed your ass. This lust felt territorial and carnal. The air was dry.
    "Keep standing up tall for me- don't let your legs shake-"
    His hand plunged under your skirt and vigorously pushed into you. You cried out, unable to fight back the urge to make sound. You clung to his body, desperate to keep standing up for him. When your knees turned to jello, your body was thrusted forward against the closed door of the room.
     You yelped and turned back at Scrim, "They're gonna hear that if you keep it up!"
    His hand guided your head back around and against the door, "That's not our problem."
    Your hands dug into the door frame, trying to keep you up. His hands continued to wrap around the sensitive curves of your hips and tease you between your legs. By now, he'd shoved the skirt well up onto your abdomen and created an intense feeling of vulnerability. Finally, he slid his hands under your shirt and massaged your breasts from behind. His movements forced your body to bend into his, and you felt a stiffening budge form between your ass. He pressed up roughly against you and panted in your ear. You couldn't stop gasping into the door; you didn't care who heard. It was all smoke then.
    Scrim yanked you backwards and led you to a wider soft couch. You knew the drill, and tumbled down onto the cushions. You rolled over as he reached down to tug the FTP shirt up. All that was left was a skirt bunched up on your midriff. Scrim practically ripped the shirt from his body and stood towering over you. A web of tattoos was highlighted by a sheen of sweat that had begun to form from the rough-housing. His chest rolled with each breath, and you were enchanted. A scene of Hell was inked onto his skin, all of ruining bridges and buildings from a gruesome volcano. It seemed to be a depiction of Hell coming onto Earth. You sat up and pressed your lips onto his belly just below the naval.
    He pet your hair roughly and gathered it up into a handful as you pulled away his pants. You rested the tip of his dick on your lips and inhaled deeply through your nose. Pushing away the last almost untraceable doubt, your mouth plunged down onto him. His body instantly tensed up. You looked up and watched his head roll in pleasure. The muscles in his arms twitched the harder he gripped your hair.
    He reached down with one arm and yanked you by the waistband of the skirt so that you fell onto your back. Scrim kicked his shorts the rest of the way off and loomed, panting. In the background, melodic beats rose up from some distant speakers. It had to be Pouya and Ghostemane. He turned back and stared at the door. For a moment, you saw him become a disheveled man of the past. His skin grew weak before your eyes, and you thought that his tattoos would flake away into the air. A ghastly vision of him took hold in your head- Scrim as a corpse walking against his will. Just when you figured he would wither away before you, life bounced back into his body and he spun around. He slid overtop of you and kissed your lower lip.

    Get these ashes out of my skull.

    You whispered with nervous whim, "Are you a ghost?"
    His tongue flicked at your collarbone, "Do you cherish the dead, Y/N? Even if their heart is still beating'?"
    "I don't understand."
    He laughed into your neck, "Babe, I've been dead."
    He pulled your hand over a scar on his body, long hidden by tattoos- the landing point of a grisly knife. He'd come from the grime under the streets and the cracks in the alleyways. He'd been to places no men should survive. Yet there he was, alive, but might as well have been dead.
    He rolled you over onto your stomach and propped you up so that he could kneel behind you. Your teeth sunk into the couch' arm when Scrim pushed into you and grabbed the skirt band to hold you firmly. He pulled the fabric towards him to bring you against him. Your body rocked back and forth slowly at first, spilling small whimpers from your tongue.
    The arcs of music far off grew as an ocean swells. Scrim rolled his body to the sound and drew you in. You don't remember his pace speeding up, yet soon you were crying out and digging your nails into the couch. You looked back at him, shaking and feeling sharp ecstasy in your body. His eyelids were half-closed and presented a dreamy look. His jaw clenched, his neck spasmed, and instantly you were dissolved in the smoke of life.
    Scrim was soon standing beside you, petting your hair and then reaching for his clothes. Warmth leaked from between your legs, and you tried to stand before any fell to the couch. He was amused, seeing his own cum running down your thighs. You pulled the skirt back down and Scrim passed you the shirt and hat. You stared down at the hat which had fallen before the couch, and caught Ruby's scent on it. The music had died down now, and your face was flushed with raunchy pride. You swiped a stream of cum with your finger and licked it before his eyes. He smiled harder and wiped his brow.
    Scrim snatched your wrist and yanked you into the main room. You stood before Ghostemane and Pouya, legs weak and a mist of sweat on your face. Their eyes widened, but something about Pouya's gaze indicated that Scrim had done this before. Ghoste however caught his breath between his teeth and blinked.
    "Aye, Imma take her home. If y'all are ever back in town, let me know. Studio is always open to you, extra keys in the cabinet.", Scrim reassured before leading you out to the car. Ghoste called out behind, "Nice meeting you-"

    The departure felt so rapid compared to the arrival. The sky had long ago begun to shift. Your heart throbbed, caught suddenly in a landslide between two entities. Originally, you expected to leave late, but the sun was still barely holding onto the horizon. A bloody color leaked from the sun into the sky, and formed reddish hues like... a ruby. Beyond that, a cloud of jet black was creeping into the rest of the sky.