[ there's that calculative machine-like criminal hindbrain that knows it won't be a real bomb, that w isn't going to be so reckless to detonate a real explosive right next to her head like this... unless? it really is such a shame that they hadn't crossed paths much but rhodes is a massive place with a massive roster of ops and she definitely wouldn't say she's overly familiar with half of them.
but w's definitely shot up to the top of the list of people to investigate in more intimate detail.
it's not going to be a real bomb, but the slap is real and the fingers in her mouth is real and the too-tempting tick and heat of the explosive prying her jaws apart--it's real enough for her to believe, for the heartstopping few moments as her pussy spasms around the knife buried in her, she could be so close to death. she nearly sobs with something like... she doesn't know if it's relief, desperation, bliss, fury. all the toxicity in her body not even including the sickness that she and w share. seems they must share more than mere oripathy, the sickness can barely compare to the sick of their mental. she deepthroats the explosive as much as she could, gagging and choking on it, her neck bulging with it, her mind clouding over with yes, yes yes yes, set it off in me just like this, blow my neck apart, kill me kill me now now now--
every tick growing louder in intensity to match her rabbiting heart until she could hear the beep that should signal its detonation. she cums right on cue, the most humiliating keening whine from her throat as she clenches down hard on the knife, on w's fingers, the sheer fantasy of her throat being torn open. she could collapse in a gruesome pool of her own blood and viscera and bone shards, far too mangled. if it didn't even kill her instantly maybe she could even spend her last moments suffering the sheer fucking agony of... she has no idea if she could feel anything, her spine and neck should be severed, she'd never died or been blown up before but she suddenly vividly wanted nothing more than for it to happen. it's the hardest she's cummed in so long, to the fantasy of her own grotesque death. desperately, dizzyingly, insanely wanting something like this over what might await her in the future after all.
her legs shake and then give out; she blows her load in drenching w's wrist and tights with her juices. the dud bomb lodges deep in her throat as she clutches to w's shoulder, wheezing breathlessly through the insertion in her mouth, her whole body shaking violently. incurable, cumming too filthily to the idea of getting detonated so ruthlessly. if it were real she might even have let it happen. what a completely horrifying experience, it'd be worth it. ]
cw guro/snuff/suicidal thoughts
but w's definitely shot up to the top of the list of people to investigate in more intimate detail.
it's not going to be a real bomb, but the slap is real and the fingers in her mouth is real and the too-tempting tick and heat of the explosive prying her jaws apart--it's real enough for her to believe, for the heartstopping few moments as her pussy spasms around the knife buried in her, she could be so close to death. she nearly sobs with something like... she doesn't know if it's relief, desperation, bliss, fury. all the toxicity in her body not even including the sickness that she and w share. seems they must share more than mere oripathy, the sickness can barely compare to the sick of their mental. she deepthroats the explosive as much as she could, gagging and choking on it, her neck bulging with it, her mind clouding over with yes, yes yes yes, set it off in me just like this, blow my neck apart, kill me kill me now now now--
every tick growing louder in intensity to match her rabbiting heart until she could hear the beep that should signal its detonation. she cums right on cue, the most humiliating keening whine from her throat as she clenches down hard on the knife, on w's fingers, the sheer fantasy of her throat being torn open. she could collapse in a gruesome pool of her own blood and viscera and bone shards, far too mangled. if it didn't even kill her instantly maybe she could even spend her last moments suffering the sheer fucking agony of... she has no idea if she could feel anything, her spine and neck should be severed, she'd never died or been blown up before but she suddenly vividly wanted nothing more than for it to happen. it's the hardest she's cummed in so long, to the fantasy of her own grotesque death. desperately, dizzyingly, insanely wanting something like this over what might await her in the future after all.
her legs shake and then give out; she blows her load in drenching w's wrist and tights with her juices. the dud bomb lodges deep in her throat as she clutches to w's shoulder, wheezing breathlessly through the insertion in her mouth, her whole body shaking violently. incurable, cumming too filthily to the idea of getting detonated so ruthlessly. if it were real she might even have let it happen. what a completely horrifying experience, it'd be worth it. ]