Zydrate Haze [Graverobber]
Title: Zydrate Haze
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Graverobber
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 645
Summary: Graverobber takes zydrate. In the butt. (Hahahahaha)
Warnings: none
Well, fuck.
When anyone else down in the alleys was fucked up on Z, he was right there, ready to reap the, uh, benefits of their illegal drug habit. Well, why not? He was their dealer, after all. But now that he'd taken a hit of his own... there was no one to be found. Where the fuck was Amber? Or any of the other junkies, for that matter?
"Fuckin' hell," Graverobber grumbled as he teetered behind one of the dumpsters in the alley, crash-landing on an old forsaken mattress that he sometimes slept on. He looked up in a blue haze at where the stars would be if he could see them. Zydrate makes it so you can't feel nothin' at all, they say, and the only thing he felt was his pulse quickening and that familiar rush of warmth to his groin.
He tugged his coat off, setting it to one side, then his half-full messenger bag. The air was chill, but Graverobber usually didn't mind the cold, and it certainly didn't bother him then. Unlatching his belt and unzipping his jeans, he exposed himself to the night with a little sigh.
The Zydrate peddler let his mind wander a bit, loosely gripping his cock, stroking it now and again. His thoughts were always disjointed when he was on Z, and tonight was no different.
Amber Sweet's perfect, hairless little cunt.
No matter the amount of surgeries, she always felt the same inside: soft, wet, and ready.
The mountain of fresh, naked, dead bodies behind the wall in that graveyard.
He smiled broadly, eyes still closed, remembering the scents in that room. Infinite variety...
Bright blue Zydrate just extracted with a Zyringe.
The glow. His favorite color. The only drug worth using and the only drug worth selling. People gave their lives for it in more ways than one.
Lying in a recently-dug grave, not otherwise occupied, in the hours of early morning, the earthy smell of gravedirt all around him.
Ah, one of the best, most isolated places in the city, where a man could truly have some time alone. He wished he was there just then, but the thought of zipping up his pants, gathering his effects, and stumbling there in a Zydrate-induced haze wasn't something he could justify.
Graverobber tightened his grip, jerking more quickly now, making soft, low moans every so often. The sensation was wonderful, but he couldn't help but feel that something, somehow, was missing. Glancing around him, his gaze finally settled on a little patch of soft blue glow barely peeking out of his bag. Hmm...
He reached out with one hand, fumbled through his pack, and grabbed a few vials of Zydrate, his other hand fondling his dick all the while. He considered the shape of the vials briefly, then, with a grin, he stuck one of them in his mouth, fellating it. He swirled his tongue around the end of the vial, jerking a little faster.
After a few moments, the Zydrate dealer pulled his product out from between his lips, taking the time to tug his pants down further with his other hand. He raised his knees, spreading his legs as best he could, and placed the vial to his asshole, making his cock twitch in response. Graverobber exhaled slowly as he inserted the little glass vial inside himself. He moved the vial in and out, faster, slower, until he found a rhythm that suited him, working his dick to the same beat.
He fucked himself, hard, his hips bucking in between his two hands, while low, throaty growls escaped his lips. When he came (which didn't take long), he came panting, shuddering, with his head thrown back against the mattress.
And in the midst of his Zydrate haze and focusing on his own pleasure, he hadn't even realized he'd drawn a crowd.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Graverobber
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 645
Summary: Graverobber takes zydrate. In the butt. (Hahahahaha)
Warnings: none
Well, fuck.
When anyone else down in the alleys was fucked up on Z, he was right there, ready to reap the, uh, benefits of their illegal drug habit. Well, why not? He was their dealer, after all. But now that he'd taken a hit of his own... there was no one to be found. Where the fuck was Amber? Or any of the other junkies, for that matter?
"Fuckin' hell," Graverobber grumbled as he teetered behind one of the dumpsters in the alley, crash-landing on an old forsaken mattress that he sometimes slept on. He looked up in a blue haze at where the stars would be if he could see them. Zydrate makes it so you can't feel nothin' at all, they say, and the only thing he felt was his pulse quickening and that familiar rush of warmth to his groin.
He tugged his coat off, setting it to one side, then his half-full messenger bag. The air was chill, but Graverobber usually didn't mind the cold, and it certainly didn't bother him then. Unlatching his belt and unzipping his jeans, he exposed himself to the night with a little sigh.
The Zydrate peddler let his mind wander a bit, loosely gripping his cock, stroking it now and again. His thoughts were always disjointed when he was on Z, and tonight was no different.
Amber Sweet's perfect, hairless little cunt.
No matter the amount of surgeries, she always felt the same inside: soft, wet, and ready.
The mountain of fresh, naked, dead bodies behind the wall in that graveyard.
He smiled broadly, eyes still closed, remembering the scents in that room. Infinite variety...
Bright blue Zydrate just extracted with a Zyringe.
The glow. His favorite color. The only drug worth using and the only drug worth selling. People gave their lives for it in more ways than one.
Lying in a recently-dug grave, not otherwise occupied, in the hours of early morning, the earthy smell of gravedirt all around him.
Ah, one of the best, most isolated places in the city, where a man could truly have some time alone. He wished he was there just then, but the thought of zipping up his pants, gathering his effects, and stumbling there in a Zydrate-induced haze wasn't something he could justify.
Graverobber tightened his grip, jerking more quickly now, making soft, low moans every so often. The sensation was wonderful, but he couldn't help but feel that something, somehow, was missing. Glancing around him, his gaze finally settled on a little patch of soft blue glow barely peeking out of his bag. Hmm...
He reached out with one hand, fumbled through his pack, and grabbed a few vials of Zydrate, his other hand fondling his dick all the while. He considered the shape of the vials briefly, then, with a grin, he stuck one of them in his mouth, fellating it. He swirled his tongue around the end of the vial, jerking a little faster.
After a few moments, the Zydrate dealer pulled his product out from between his lips, taking the time to tug his pants down further with his other hand. He raised his knees, spreading his legs as best he could, and placed the vial to his asshole, making his cock twitch in response. Graverobber exhaled slowly as he inserted the little glass vial inside himself. He moved the vial in and out, faster, slower, until he found a rhythm that suited him, working his dick to the same beat.
He fucked himself, hard, his hips bucking in between his two hands, while low, throaty growls escaped his lips. When he came (which didn't take long), he came panting, shuddering, with his head thrown back against the mattress.
And in the midst of his Zydrate haze and focusing on his own pleasure, he hadn't even realized he'd drawn a crowd.