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Title: Draw Dead
Fandom: Left 4 Dead 2
Pairing: Smoker/Nick (*shoots self*)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-con, uh...tongues that are more like tentacles? *dies*
Words: 200
Summary: In which a smoker gets tired of choking people, and Nick discovers things about special infected he'd rather not.
Notes: WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN
APOLOGIES TO THE ENTIRE INTERNETS. RULE 34 DEMANDS COMPLIANCE. also the title comes from a poker term, for a situation in which any hand you draw won't beat your opponent's hand.
---
He's no stranger to this, a pool hall ceiling obscured by lung-clogging smoke, the rub of a billiard table's velvet at his back. Strange, the things that survive the infection - humanity, no, questionable encounters in empty pool halls, yes.
As if sensing Nick's wandering thoughts, the Smoker's tongue constricts, nearly crushing his ribs. The glistening appendage winds around his legs and torso, slithering under his suit to taste bare flesh. He struggles, scrabbling at the thick tube of muscle. More tongues appear to wrap around his wrists, tips lapping at his fingertips. (god, how many does it have?) The tongue binding him to the table undulates between his legs, a threat, a promise.
The Smoker leans in, its tumorous, pulsating face filling Nick's vision. Another tendril snakes out from that diseased mass, sliding over Nick's tightly clamped lips.
In cards, Nick knows, there's nothing more satisfying than forcing an opponent to play a bad hand, to make him deal his own loss. The Smoker's eyes are white, flat, unreadable; but the tendrils teasing his fingers, his mouth, his cock all demand the same thing.
Strange, the things that survive the infection.
Shuddering within that tongue-tentacled embrace, Nick parts his lips.
Fandom: Left 4 Dead 2
Pairing: Smoker/Nick (*shoots self*)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Non-con, uh...tongues that are more like tentacles? *dies*
Words: 200
Summary: In which a smoker gets tired of choking people, and Nick discovers things about special infected he'd rather not.
Notes: WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN
APOLOGIES TO THE ENTIRE INTERNETS. RULE 34 DEMANDS COMPLIANCE. also the title comes from a poker term, for a situation in which any hand you draw won't beat your opponent's hand.
---
He's no stranger to this, a pool hall ceiling obscured by lung-clogging smoke, the rub of a billiard table's velvet at his back. Strange, the things that survive the infection - humanity, no, questionable encounters in empty pool halls, yes.
As if sensing Nick's wandering thoughts, the Smoker's tongue constricts, nearly crushing his ribs. The glistening appendage winds around his legs and torso, slithering under his suit to taste bare flesh. He struggles, scrabbling at the thick tube of muscle. More tongues appear to wrap around his wrists, tips lapping at his fingertips. (god, how many does it have?) The tongue binding him to the table undulates between his legs, a threat, a promise.
The Smoker leans in, its tumorous, pulsating face filling Nick's vision. Another tendril snakes out from that diseased mass, sliding over Nick's tightly clamped lips.
In cards, Nick knows, there's nothing more satisfying than forcing an opponent to play a bad hand, to make him deal his own loss. The Smoker's eyes are white, flat, unreadable; but the tendrils teasing his fingers, his mouth, his cock all demand the same thing.
Strange, the things that survive the infection.
Shuddering within that tongue-tentacled embrace, Nick parts his lips.
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no subject
Date: 2009-12-20 06:50 am (UTC)From:This was interesting. :3 I love the brand of crack that you write. ;D
no subject
Date: 2009-12-21 01:27 am (UTC)From:heee, thanks. i always wonder how people react to like...serious-sounding crack, what. *wishes she could do more lulzy crack*
no subject
Date: 2009-12-23 09:53 pm (UTC)From:This is just too hawt,yum.
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Date: 2009-12-24 12:54 am (UTC)From:*sets comfort zones ON FIRE*
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Date: 2009-12-25 09:15 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2009-12-28 05:44 am (UTC)From:I AM PLEASED I HAVE FOREVER TAINTED YOUR L4D2 GAMING EXPERIENCE XD