𓏵 𝙿𝙴𝙿𝚂𝙸𝙿𝙾𝙴𝚃 𓏵

CW. Isaac literally fucks Reader's rotten, sunken eye socket. Like his dick is in it...he cums in it...so once again, don't read this if you don't want to read it. No one is forcing you. You have been warned plenty!

“Oh fucking hell!” Isaac swats his hands through his hair, endless curses bursting from his mouth as he paces the room.

This was not going as planned. Just another thing…very, very far from how he’d imagined it.

He hadn’t gotten to save his sister. His own extremity of a hand betrayed him, choosing his enemy. And worst of all…even after somehow surviving that…he couldn’t bring back you. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how smart he was…there’s just no loophole.

He wishes he had carved your heart out of your chest back in the day. The very inconvenience that ended up being his path back to life.

“Well, dove…” he whispers under a heavy sigh. His fake metal fingers drifting through various papers sprawled across his desk.

“This is impossible…you’re truly a lucky woman that I’ve never let an equation get the best of my frustrations…” he continued to talk to him while rushing over to his chalkboard, double checking all his work—like there would suddenly be an answer to just pop out. But there’s not. And he knows after so many years, he’s only regressed the progress he’s made with reviving your corpse.

“We only have one option.”

He turns back around. Your pile of rot and bones staring at him with naive cluelessness. You have no idea what he’s saying. He’s not even sure you know who you are…but you’re still…you.

Kinda.

Your beautiful eyes stare back at him now as just an eye—the other a sunken socket of mangled flesh. Your skin is no longer soft and supple. It’s…wet—gooey. He wishes he could caress you like he used to. He wishes he could do a lot of things to you like he did back before all this nonsense happened.

“A time machine. That is my next task. I’ve gotten close before, the only thing lacking well…worry for you and my sister, but how could altering either of your fates make it any worse at this point?”

He licks over his lips, his shoulder tingling as he feels your breath echo from behind him.

It reminds him of good times. Those times—the times he’d cradle your head in the crook of his shoulder while absolutely ravishing you. He’d feel the whisper of your quiet squeaks of pleasure. How you’d get more choked up on those cute little moans the harder he fucked into your tight pussy.

And god. He’s thought about it. Fuck—he’s tried it. He’s fucked a corpse—your corpse. Well, he tried. But the sweet haven that once was between your legs seemed to be the first thing targeted by bugs from beneath the ground.

He couldn’t blame them. You did taste delicious.

But as his cock throbs beneath his jeans and labcoat…he understands he won’t get any relief with you for a very long time. And that…that just won’t do, no. He needs you in order to think properly.

“Oh, look at you…so…rotten, yet still divine.”

He pushes your body down to the floor, your knees squishing like slime against the tower concrete.

His hand cradles your jaw. He looks into your beautiful eye—worshipping the one way he truly recognizes this rot as you.

Pushing a finger into your mouth experimentally, he scrunches his face with displeasure. He was never were particularly fond of his dick in your mouth. He claimed it wasn’t intimate enough. Food went in your mouth…just about anything went into your mouth if you really thought about it—medicine, thermometers, toothbrushes…too much for him to feel special.

And that disgustingly selfish, possessive itch was never satisfied with something so…simple.

But as his eyes trail up to your sunken eye socket, he gets an idea.

An awful, disturbing, exciting idea…

Which is why just a short few minutes after he’s cradled your jaw hungrily, he uses what little hum of his ability he’s been able to direct in the metal joints of his new appendage, holding your mouth safely shut as he divulges is his hungers unapologetically.

And god, it feels good.

For Issac, it emulates that sweet sensation of your warm, pliable pussy walls that would clamp around him so sweetly. It also gives him a thrill of a rush—fucking you in a way you’ve never been fucked before…not has anyone ever dared to ever before, probably.

So he slides his cock in and out of the squelching beaten socket. His gaze flickering from the filthy way he can feel the head of his dick plunging against your brain, and also to your most recognizable feature just inches away from the beauty of it all. Your gorgeous, gorgeous eye.

All the damaged with be reversed when he finishes up a Time Machine. And it can’t be that hard. If he’d gotten dangerously close while being a naive little boy too scared to fully commit to the project, he’d surely get it done in no time.

But god, did he even want to?

No, yes. He definitely wanted to. He could go back in time—change your heart for a one like his without you even knowing possibly. Change as little as possible but just enough to make his new life meaningful.

He’d given up on franciouse. She was long gone by the time he’s been resurrected. Trying to save her would alter too much. And, selfishly, he wanted a world where all he had to worry about was you and him.

“Oh g-god,” he quivers his movements getting more…more—his his snapping violently to chase that gooey feeling that creeps up on him, making everything feel fuzzy in the way he’s been craving for so. Damn. Long.

And the weird part is—you don’t even know who you are, you have no way of fully understanding what’s going on—but you push yourself forward…forcing more of his length to sink into your skull.

Because it feels good.

And all you run on is instinct.

Isaac irrationally fucks his stiff cock back and forth, his face twisting with an intense pleasure as you let out some sort of soft sigh.

He can tell it feels good for you. And that makes his entire body jolt with a newfound desperation.

He’s literally fucking your brains out.

“Oh—oh-oh! Oh god…so close, I’m go—gonna—mmmmpfh!”

The growl he lets out is deep. It vibrates in his chest the same time he feels the rush of his orgasm crash and spill through him.

He sees his load ooze out of your eye socket. And the sight makes his balls squeeze one last time, milking him for everything he has and more.

“Oh, dove…” he husks, utterly breathless. “I promise to bring you back in the right way, but—but we must do this at least once more before then.”

You sag onto him. Almost yearning for the way his long girth was itching the inside of your skull just mere moments ago.

“I truly don’t think I’ve experienced a greater pleasure than truly fucking your brains out.”

----------

A/N: Thank you for reading! And also thank you to my wifie's who sent this disgustingly lovely request lol. Any interaction is deeply appritiated <3

Probably will cross post this on my AO3 too! Same user! My friend @rainyyy-weather just doesn’t have an AO3 (criminal, I know.)

CW. Isaac literally fucks Reader's rotten, sunken eye socket. Like his dick is in it...he cums in it...so once again, don't read this if you don't want to read it. No one is forcing you. You have been warned plenty!

“Oh fucking hell!” Isaac swats his hands through his hair, endless curses bursting from his mouth as he paces the room.

This was not going as planned. Just another thing…very, very far from how he’d imagined it.

He hadn’t gotten to save his sister. His own extremity of a hand betrayed him, choosing his enemy. And worst of all…even after somehow surviving that…he couldn’t bring back you. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how smart he was…there’s just no loophole.

He wishes he had carved your heart out of your chest back in the day. The very inconvenience that ended up being his path back to life.

“Well, dove…” he whispers under a heavy sigh. His fake metal fingers drifting through various papers sprawled across his desk.

“This is impossible…you’re truly a lucky woman that I’ve never let an equation get the best of my frustrations…” he continued to talk to him while rushing over to his chalkboard, double checking all his work—like there would suddenly be an answer to just pop out. But there’s not. And he knows after so many years, he’s only regressed the progress he’s made with reviving your corpse.

“We only have one option.”

He turns back around. Your pile of rot and bones staring at him with naive cluelessness. You have no idea what he’s saying. He’s not even sure you know who you are…but you’re still…you.

Kinda.

Your beautiful eyes stare back at him now as just an eye—the other a sunken socket of mangled flesh. Your skin is no longer soft and supple. It’s…wet—gooey. He wishes he could caress you like he used to. He wishes he could do a lot of things to you like he did back before all this nonsense happened.

“A time machine. That is my next task. I’ve gotten close before, the only thing lacking well…worry for you and my sister, but how could altering either of your fates make it any worse at this point?”

He licks over his lips, his shoulder tingling as he feels your breath echo from behind him.

It reminds him of good times. Those times—the times he’d cradle your head in the crook of his shoulder while absolutely ravishing you. He’d feel the whisper of your quiet squeaks of pleasure. How you’d get more choked up on those cute little moans the harder he fucked into your tight pussy.

And god. He’s thought about it. Fuck—he’s tried it. He’s fucked a corpse—your corpse. Well, he tried. But the sweet haven that once was between your legs seemed to be the first thing targeted by bugs from beneath the ground.

He couldn’t blame them. You did taste delicious.

But as his cock throbs beneath his jeans and labcoat…he understands he won’t get any relief with you for a very long time. And that…that just won’t do, no. He needs you in order to think properly.

“Oh, look at you…so…rotten, yet still divine.”

He pushes your body down to the floor, your knees squishing like slime against the tower concrete.

His hand cradles your jaw. He looks into your beautiful eye—worshipping the one way he truly recognizes this rot as you.

Pushing a finger into your mouth experimentally, he scrunches his face with displeasure. He was never were particularly fond of his dick in your mouth. He claimed it wasn’t intimate enough. Food went in your mouth…just about anything went into your mouth if you really thought about it—medicine, thermometers, toothbrushes…too much for him to feel special.

And that disgustingly selfish, possessive itch was never satisfied with something so…simple.

But as his eyes trail up to your sunken eye socket, he gets an idea.

An awful, disturbing, exciting idea…

Which is why just a short few minutes after he’s cradled your jaw hungrily, he uses what little hum of his ability he’s been able to direct in the metal joints of his new appendage, holding your mouth safely shut as he divulges is his hungers unapologetically.

And god, it feels good.

For Issac, it emulates that sweet sensation of your warm, pliable pussy walls that would clamp around him so sweetly. It also gives him a thrill of a rush—fucking you in a way you’ve never been fucked before…not has anyone ever dared to ever before, probably.

So he slides his cock in and out of the squelching beaten socket. His gaze flickering from the filthy way he can feel the head of his dick plunging against your brain, and also to your most recognizable feature just inches away from the beauty of it all. Your gorgeous, gorgeous eye.

All the damaged with be reversed when he finishes up a Time Machine. And it can’t be that hard. If he’d gotten dangerously close while being a naive little boy too scared to fully commit to the project, he’d surely get it done in no time.

But god, did he even want to?

No, yes. He definitely wanted to. He could go back in time—change your heart for a one like his without you even knowing possibly. Change as little as possible but just enough to make his new life meaningful.

He’d given up on franciouse. She was long gone by the time he’s been resurrected. Trying to save her would alter too much. And, selfishly, he wanted a world where all he had to worry about was you and him.

“Oh g-god,” he quivers his movements getting more…more—his his snapping violently to chase that gooey feeling that creeps up on him, making everything feel fuzzy in the way he’s been craving for so. Damn. Long.

And the weird part is—you don’t even know who you are, you have no way of fully understanding what’s going on—but you push yourself forward…forcing more of his length to sink into your skull.

Because it feels good.

And all you run on is instinct.

Isaac irrationally fucks his stiff cock back and forth, his face twisting with an intense pleasure as you let out some sort of soft sigh.

He can tell it feels good for you. And that makes his entire body jolt with a newfound desperation.

He’s literally fucking your brains out.

“Oh—oh-oh! Oh god…so close, I’m go—gonna—mmmmpfh!”

The growl he lets out is deep. It vibrates in his chest the same time he feels the rush of his orgasm crash and spill through him.

He sees his load ooze out of your eye socket. And the sight makes his balls squeeze one last time, milking him for everything he has and more.

“Oh, dove…” he husks, utterly breathless. “I promise to bring you back in the right way, but—but we must do this at least once more before then.”

You sag onto him. Almost yearning for the way his long girth was itching the inside of your skull just mere moments ago.

“I truly don’t think I’ve experienced a greater pleasure than truly fucking your brains out.”

----------

A/N: Thank you for reading! And also thank you to my wifie's who sent this disgustingly lovely request lol. Any interaction is deeply appritiated <3

Probably will cross post this on my AO3 too! Same user! My friend @rainyyy-weather just doesn’t have an AO3 (criminal, I know.)

CW. Isaac literally fucks Reader's rotten, sunken eye socket. Like his dick is in it...he cums in it...so once again, don't read this if you don't want to read it. No one is forcing you. You have been warned plenty!

“Oh fucking hell!” Isaac swats his hands through his hair, endless curses bursting from his mouth as he paces the room.

This was not going as planned. Just another thing…very, very far from how he’d imagined it.

He hadn’t gotten to save his sister. His own extremity of a hand betrayed him, choosing his enemy. And worst of all…even after somehow surviving that…he couldn’t bring back you. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how smart he was…there’s just no loophole.

He wishes he had carved your heart out of your chest back in the day. The very inconvenience that ended up being his path back to life.

“Well, dove…” he whispers under a heavy sigh. His fake metal fingers drifting through various papers sprawled across his desk.

“This is impossible…you’re truly a lucky woman that I’ve never let an equation get the best of my frustrations…” he continued to talk to him while rushing over to his chalkboard, double checking all his work—like there would suddenly be an answer to just pop out. But there’s not. And he knows after so many years, he’s only regressed the progress he’s made with reviving your corpse.

“We only have one option.”

He turns back around. Your pile of rot and bones staring at him with naive cluelessness. You have no idea what he’s saying. He’s not even sure you know who you are…but you’re still…you.

Kinda.

Your beautiful eyes stare back at him now as just an eye—the other a sunken socket of mangled flesh. Your skin is no longer soft and supple. It’s…wet—gooey. He wishes he could caress you like he used to. He wishes he could do a lot of things to you like he did back before all this nonsense happened.

“A time machine. That is my next task. I’ve gotten close before, the only thing lacking well…worry for you and my sister, but how could altering either of your fates make it any worse at this point?”

He licks over his lips, his shoulder tingling as he feels your breath echo from behind him.

It reminds him of good times. Those times—the times he’d cradle your head in the crook of his shoulder while absolutely ravishing you. He’d feel the whisper of your quiet squeaks of pleasure. How you’d get more choked up on those cute little moans the harder he fucked into your tight pussy.

And god. He’s thought about it. Fuck—he’s tried it. He’s fucked a corpse—your corpse. Well, he tried. But the sweet haven that once was between your legs seemed to be the first thing targeted by bugs from beneath the ground.

He couldn’t blame them. You did taste delicious.

But as his cock throbs beneath his jeans and labcoat…he understands he won’t get any relief with you for a very long time. And that…that just won’t do, no. He needs you in order to think properly.

“Oh, look at you…so…rotten, yet still divine.”

He pushes your body down to the floor, your knees squishing like slime against the tower concrete.

His hand cradles your jaw. He looks into your beautiful eye—worshipping the one way he truly recognizes this rot as you.

Pushing a finger into your mouth experimentally, he scrunches his face with displeasure. He was never were particularly fond of his dick in your mouth. He claimed it wasn’t intimate enough. Food went in your mouth…just about anything went into your mouth if you really thought about it—medicine, thermometers, toothbrushes…too much for him to feel special.

And that disgustingly selfish, possessive itch was never satisfied with something so…simple.

But as his eyes trail up to your sunken eye socket, he gets an idea.

An awful, disturbing, exciting idea…

Which is why just a short few minutes after he’s cradled your jaw hungrily, he uses what little hum of his ability he’s been able to direct in the metal joints of his new appendage, holding your mouth safely shut as he divulges is his hungers unapologetically.

And god, it feels good.

For Issac, it emulates that sweet sensation of your warm, pliable pussy walls that would clamp around him so sweetly. It also gives him a thrill of a rush—fucking you in a way you’ve never been fucked before…not has anyone ever dared to ever before, probably.

So he slides his cock in and out of the squelching beaten socket. His gaze flickering from the filthy way he can feel the head of his dick plunging against your brain, and also to your most recognizable feature just inches away from the beauty of it all. Your gorgeous, gorgeous eye.

All the damaged with be reversed when he finishes up a Time Machine. And it can’t be that hard. If he’d gotten dangerously close while being a naive little boy too scared to fully commit to the project, he’d surely get it done in no time.

But god, did he even want to?

No, yes. He definitely wanted to. He could go back in time—change your heart for a one like his without you even knowing possibly. Change as little as possible but just enough to make his new life meaningful.

He’d given up on franciouse. She was long gone by the time he’s been resurrected. Trying to save her would alter too much. And, selfishly, he wanted a world where all he had to worry about was you and him.

“Oh g-god,” he quivers his movements getting more…more—his his snapping violently to chase that gooey feeling that creeps up on him, making everything feel fuzzy in the way he’s been craving for so. Damn. Long.

And the weird part is—you don’t even know who you are, you have no way of fully understanding what’s going on—but you push yourself forward…forcing more of his length to sink into your skull.

Because it feels good.

And all you run on is instinct.

Isaac irrationally fucks his stiff cock back and forth, his face twisting with an intense pleasure as you let out some sort of soft sigh.

He can tell it feels good for you. And that makes his entire body jolt with a newfound desperation.

He’s literally fucking your brains out.

“Oh—oh-oh! Oh god…so close, I’m go—gonna—mmmmpfh!”

The growl he lets out is deep. It vibrates in his chest the same time he feels the rush of his orgasm crash and spill through him.

He sees his load ooze out of your eye socket. And the sight makes his balls squeeze one last time, milking him for everything he has and more.

“Oh, dove…” he husks, utterly breathless. “I promise to bring you back in the right way, but—but we must do this at least once more before then.”

You sag onto him. Almost yearning for the way his long girth was itching the inside of your skull just mere moments ago.

“I truly don’t think I’ve experienced a greater pleasure than truly fucking your brains out.”

----------

A/N: Thank you for reading! And also thank you to my wifie's who sent this disgustingly lovely request lol. Any interaction is deeply appritiated <3

Probably will cross post this on my AO3 too! Same user! My friend @rainyyy-weather just doesn’t have an AO3 (criminal, I know.)

CW. Isaac literally fucks Reader's rotten, sunken eye socket. Like his dick is in it...he cums in it...so once again, don't read this if you don't want to read it. No one is forcing you. You have been warned plenty!

“Oh fucking hell!” Isaac swats his hands through his hair, endless curses bursting from his mouth as he paces the room.

This was not going as planned. Just another thing…very, very far from how he’d imagined it.

He hadn’t gotten to save his sister. His own extremity of a hand betrayed him, choosing his enemy. And worst of all…even after somehow surviving that…he couldn’t bring back you. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how smart he was…there’s just no loophole.

He wishes he had carved your heart out of your chest back in the day. The very inconvenience that ended up being his path back to life.

“Well, dove…” he whispers under a heavy sigh. His fake metal fingers drifting through various papers sprawled across his desk.

“This is impossible…you’re truly a lucky woman that I’ve never let an equation get the best of my frustrations…” he continued to talk to him while rushing over to his chalkboard, double checking all his work—like there would suddenly be an answer to just pop out. But there’s not. And he knows after so many years, he’s only regressed the progress he’s made with reviving your corpse.

“We only have one option.”

He turns back around. Your pile of rot and bones staring at him with naive cluelessness. You have no idea what he’s saying. He’s not even sure you know who you are…but you’re still…you.

Kinda.

Your beautiful eyes stare back at him now as just an eye—the other a sunken socket of mangled flesh. Your skin is no longer soft and supple. It’s…wet—gooey. He wishes he could caress you like he used to. He wishes he could do a lot of things to you like he did back before all this nonsense happened.

“A time machine. That is my next task. I’ve gotten close before, the only thing lacking well…worry for you and my sister, but how could altering either of your fates make it any worse at this point?”

He licks over his lips, his shoulder tingling as he feels your breath echo from behind him.

It reminds him of good times. Those times—the times he’d cradle your head in the crook of his shoulder while absolutely ravishing you. He’d feel the whisper of your quiet squeaks of pleasure. How you’d get more choked up on those cute little moans the harder he fucked into your tight pussy.

And god. He’s thought about it. Fuck—he’s tried it. He’s fucked a corpse—your corpse. Well, he tried. But the sweet haven that once was between your legs seemed to be the first thing targeted by bugs from beneath the ground.

He couldn’t blame them. You did taste delicious.

But as his cock throbs beneath his jeans and labcoat…he understands he won’t get any relief with you for a very long time. And that…that just won’t do, no. He needs you in order to think properly.

“Oh, look at you…so…rotten, yet still divine.”

He pushes your body down to the floor, your knees squishing like slime against the tower concrete.

His hand cradles your jaw. He looks into your beautiful eye—worshipping the one way he truly recognizes this rot as you.

Pushing a finger into your mouth experimentally, he scrunches his face with displeasure. He was never were particularly fond of his dick in your mouth. He claimed it wasn’t intimate enough. Food went in your mouth…just about anything went into your mouth if you really thought about it—medicine, thermometers, toothbrushes…too much for him to feel special.

And that disgustingly selfish, possessive itch was never satisfied with something so…simple.

But as his eyes trail up to your sunken eye socket, he gets an idea.

An awful, disturbing, exciting idea…

Which is why just a short few minutes after he’s cradled your jaw hungrily, he uses what little hum of his ability he’s been able to direct in the metal joints of his new appendage, holding your mouth safely shut as he divulges is his hungers unapologetically.

And god, it feels good.

For Issac, it emulates that sweet sensation of your warm, pliable pussy walls that would clamp around him so sweetly. It also gives him a thrill of a rush—fucking you in a way you’ve never been fucked before…not has anyone ever dared to ever before, probably.

So he slides his cock in and out of the squelching beaten socket. His gaze flickering from the filthy way he can feel the head of his dick plunging against your brain, and also to your most recognizable feature just inches away from the beauty of it all. Your gorgeous, gorgeous eye.

All the damaged with be reversed when he finishes up a Time Machine. And it can’t be that hard. If he’d gotten dangerously close while being a naive little boy too scared to fully commit to the project, he’d surely get it done in no time.

But god, did he even want to?

No, yes. He definitely wanted to. He could go back in time—change your heart for a one like his without you even knowing possibly. Change as little as possible but just enough to make his new life meaningful.

He’d given up on franciouse. She was long gone by the time he’s been resurrected. Trying to save her would alter too much. And, selfishly, he wanted a world where all he had to worry about was you and him.

“Oh g-god,” he quivers his movements getting more…more—his his snapping violently to chase that gooey feeling that creeps up on him, making everything feel fuzzy in the way he’s been craving for so. Damn. Long.

And the weird part is—you don’t even know who you are, you have no way of fully understanding what’s going on—but you push yourself forward…forcing more of his length to sink into your skull.

Because it feels good.

And all you run on is instinct.

Isaac irrationally fucks his stiff cock back and forth, his face twisting with an intense pleasure as you let out some sort of soft sigh.

He can tell it feels good for you. And that makes his entire body jolt with a newfound desperation.

He’s literally fucking your brains out.

“Oh—oh-oh! Oh god…so close, I’m go—gonna—mmmmpfh!”

The growl he lets out is deep. It vibrates in his chest the same time he feels the rush of his orgasm crash and spill through him.

He sees his load ooze out of your eye socket. And the sight makes his balls squeeze one last time, milking him for everything he has and more.

“Oh, dove…” he husks, utterly breathless. “I promise to bring you back in the right way, but—but we must do this at least once more before then.”

You sag onto him. Almost yearning for the way his long girth was itching the inside of your skull just mere moments ago.

“I truly don’t think I’ve experienced a greater pleasure than truly fucking your brains out.”

----------

A/N: Thank you for reading! And also thank you to my wifie's who sent this disgustingly lovely request lol. Any interaction is deeply appritiated <3

Probably will cross post this on my AO3 too! Same user! My friend @rainyyy-weather just doesn’t have an AO3 (criminal, I know.)

CW. Isaac literally fucks Reader's rotten, sunken eye socket. Like his dick is in it...he cums in it...so once again, don't read this if you don't want to read it. No one is forcing you. You have been warned plenty!

“Oh fucking hell!” Isaac swats his hands through his hair, endless curses bursting from his mouth as he paces the room.

This was not going as planned. Just another thing…very, very far from how he’d imagined it.

He hadn’t gotten to save his sister. His own extremity of a hand betrayed him, choosing his enemy. And worst of all…even after somehow surviving that…he couldn’t bring back you. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how smart he was…there’s just no loophole.

He wishes he had carved your heart out of your chest back in the day. The very inconvenience that ended up being his path back to life.

“Well, dove…” he whispers under a heavy sigh. His fake metal fingers drifting through various papers sprawled across his desk.

“This is impossible…you’re truly a lucky woman that I’ve never let an equation get the best of my frustrations…” he continued to talk to him while rushing over to his chalkboard, double checking all his work—like there would suddenly be an answer to just pop out. But there’s not. And he knows after so many years, he’s only regressed the progress he’s made with reviving your corpse.

“We only have one option.”

He turns back around. Your pile of rot and bones staring at him with naive cluelessness. You have no idea what he’s saying. He’s not even sure you know who you are…but you’re still…you.

Kinda.

Your beautiful eyes stare back at him now as just an eye—the other a sunken socket of mangled flesh. Your skin is no longer soft and supple. It’s…wet—gooey. He wishes he could caress you like he used to. He wishes he could do a lot of things to you like he did back before all this nonsense happened.

“A time machine. That is my next task. I’ve gotten close before, the only thing lacking well…worry for you and my sister, but how could altering either of your fates make it any worse at this point?”

He licks over his lips, his shoulder tingling as he feels your breath echo from behind him.

It reminds him of good times. Those times—the times he’d cradle your head in the crook of his shoulder while absolutely ravishing you. He’d feel the whisper of your quiet squeaks of pleasure. How you’d get more choked up on those cute little moans the harder he fucked into your tight pussy.

And god. He’s thought about it. Fuck—he’s tried it. He’s fucked a corpse—your corpse. Well, he tried. But the sweet haven that once was between your legs seemed to be the first thing targeted by bugs from beneath the ground.

He couldn’t blame them. You did taste delicious.

But as his cock throbs beneath his jeans and labcoat…he understands he won’t get any relief with you for a very long time. And that…that just won’t do, no. He needs you in order to think properly.

“Oh, look at you…so…rotten, yet still divine.”

He pushes your body down to the floor, your knees squishing like slime against the tower concrete.

His hand cradles your jaw. He looks into your beautiful eye—worshipping the one way he truly recognizes this rot as you.

Pushing a finger into your mouth experimentally, he scrunches his face with displeasure. He was never were particularly fond of his dick in your mouth. He claimed it wasn’t intimate enough. Food went in your mouth…just about anything went into your mouth if you really thought about it—medicine, thermometers, toothbrushes…too much for him to feel special.

And that disgustingly selfish, possessive itch was never satisfied with something so…simple.

But as his eyes trail up to your sunken eye socket, he gets an idea.

An awful, disturbing, exciting idea…

Which is why just a short few minutes after he’s cradled your jaw hungrily, he uses what little hum of his ability he’s been able to direct in the metal joints of his new appendage, holding your mouth safely shut as he divulges is his hungers unapologetically.

And god, it feels good.

For Issac, it emulates that sweet sensation of your warm, pliable pussy walls that would clamp around him so sweetly. It also gives him a thrill of a rush—fucking you in a way you’ve never been fucked before…not has anyone ever dared to ever before, probably.

So he slides his cock in and out of the squelching beaten socket. His gaze flickering from the filthy way he can feel the head of his dick plunging against your brain, and also to your most recognizable feature just inches away from the beauty of it all. Your gorgeous, gorgeous eye.

All the damaged with be reversed when he finishes up a Time Machine. And it can’t be that hard. If he’d gotten dangerously close while being a naive little boy too scared to fully commit to the project, he’d surely get it done in no time.

But god, did he even want to?

No, yes. He definitely wanted to. He could go back in time—change your heart for a one like his without you even knowing possibly. Change as little as possible but just enough to make his new life meaningful.

He’d given up on franciouse. She was long gone by the time he’s been resurrected. Trying to save her would alter too much. And, selfishly, he wanted a world where all he had to worry about was you and him.

“Oh g-god,” he quivers his movements getting more…more—his his snapping violently to chase that gooey feeling that creeps up on him, making everything feel fuzzy in the way he’s been craving for so. Damn. Long.

And the weird part is—you don’t even know who you are, you have no way of fully understanding what’s going on—but you push yourself forward…forcing more of his length to sink into your skull.

Because it feels good.

And all you run on is instinct.

Isaac irrationally fucks his stiff cock back and forth, his face twisting with an intense pleasure as you let out some sort of soft sigh.

He can tell it feels good for you. And that makes his entire body jolt with a newfound desperation.

He’s literally fucking your brains out.

“Oh—oh-oh! Oh god…so close, I’m go—gonna—mmmmpfh!”

The growl he lets out is deep. It vibrates in his chest the same time he feels the rush of his orgasm crash and spill through him.

He sees his load ooze out of your eye socket. And the sight makes his balls squeeze one last time, milking him for everything he has and more.

“Oh, dove…” he husks, utterly breathless. “I promise to bring you back in the right way, but—but we must do this at least once more before then.”

You sag onto him. Almost yearning for the way his long girth was itching the inside of your skull just mere moments ago.

“I truly don’t think I’ve experienced a greater pleasure than truly fucking your brains out.”

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A/N: Thank you for reading! And also thank you to my wifie's who sent this disgustingly lovely request lol. Any interaction is deeply appritiated <3

Probably will cross post this on my AO3 too! Same user! My friend @rainyyy-weather just doesn’t have an AO3 (criminal, I know.)

steve is cut off by dustin with an offended sigh. “no on convinced her anything, she volunteered! she wanted to be the bait!”

your boyfriend grits his teeth, shaking his head with distain.

yeah, because you’d rather volunteer to be bait than let any of the younger kids do it. no one actually wants to be fucking bait.

“why, why, why…” steve whispers, mostly to himself as he stares at your frazzled eyes. you’re scared—no—petrified.

there’s the familiar sound of something inhuman lurking around the woods, but you can’t quite see it. you can only sense it with a trickling fear cascading over your body like a second skin.

nancy stands beside steve, gun aimed and controlled as they stare at you from a distance. he swallows thickly as she adjusts the direction of the barrel.

he hates how close a bullet is gonna be to you.

he hates how close death is gonna be to you.

focus, he reminds himself. eyes treading into the abyss of you quivering on sunken dirt, he grits his teeth and sighs.

nothing about this makes him feel okay at all. he hates this—he’s scared, he’s angry, and god—he’s so so so sad. sad that this is your lives. this is 'normal' somehow.

a breeze of wind makes everyone shift on their feet—including nancy. once the breeze calms down, steve finally tries to let out another breath.

but as soon as his lips part, they smack back together while a gun shot rings through the air.

once.

twice.

and so. many. more. times.

the disgusting sound of mutant creatures scratching drowns in the somber air.

it’s silent.

too silent.

he can’t bring himself to look up at where you’re supposed to be standing. he’s scared you won’t be standing—he’s horrified you might be torn apart in pieces.

“steve.”

nancy’s voice pulls him back to reality. she offers a sympathetic smile before nudging her head in your direction.

and he looks.

“sweetheart?” his voice shakes, his hands trembling as he sees you staring at the new corpse laid by your feet.

god, he knows that look. he’s lived that look.

it’s so confusing. to fight for your life and see the true gore of it. and selfishly, seeing someone or something die reminds you of how easy it really is to lose a fight.

“hey…” steve whispers, voice barely a whisper as he approaches you slowly. his face scrunches as you wince from his arm wrapping around your shoulders. he almost excepts you to shrug him off…but you don’t.

you can’t.

“is it really…dead?”

oh.

his heart lurches in his chest. you sound so…wounded.

so broken.

this is why he never let you even attempt to help with these things. because he can’t watch the person he loves the most get sucked into this terrible shit too.

he can’t watch you live in survival mode because he knows what that does to a person.

“hey…” he swivels you around, hiding your face in his neck. “-don’t think about that right now, okay? just…breathe.”

you let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. steve holds you a bit tighter as the tension leaves your shoulders, biting back the anger as his worries push forward.

“are you okay? are you hurt at all?” he swallows loudly while pulling you closer into his embrace.

“no, no…i…i’m okay. just, um, i…it’s…”

“it’s a lot. i know. trust me,” he places a kiss on your head, cradling your hair in his palm, “-i know. i’m here for you, whatever you need, just…just please—don’t do that again.”

you sigh against him. “i’m sorry, i just…couldn’t sit back and watch a kid do this, steve. it’s just…it’s not right.”

unfortunately, he understands. he gets it all too well.

“i get that, sweetheart, but…don’t be a hero.”

“steve—“

“i’m serious,” he pulls away, just enough to look you in the face to truly emphasize his point, “-don’t be a hero. i can take care of the kids, but i—i don’t think i can do anything if i don’t have you at the end of the day.”

you nod, too emotional to respond with words. steve sighs with relief from your acknowledgment, holding you back into a tight hug.

a lump gathers in his throat as he squeezes the same phrase out again—

“god, i...don’t…don’t do that again, baby. Please, just—just—don’t be a hero.”

paige’s notes . . . womp womp. im emotional and putting it into my writting...what's new lol. um…i’m sorry if this isn’t as detailed. i just had an idea & really needed to write it asap lol.

any interaction is deeply appreciated! especially comments & reblogs, i love hearing feedback 💕

comment to be added to my steve/joe taglist!