#muerte x reader

[iamthejinyouarethejin]

it's getting late

you'd pull the covers over your head and act like you were already asleep, even though weren't.

they'd snatch the cover from over your head and playfully frown at you, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"i know you're sleepy." and you were. they'd hop in bed beside you, getting themselves comfortable before laying flat on their back, hoping you'd do the same.

"you should hit the sack."

and you'd just look at them. then you'd eventually (after two or three minutes of staring into the distance with bad posture) lay down beside your partner, struggling to find a comfortable position. then you'd continue to struggle and toss and turn for the next 5 or 6 minutes, somewhat hoping to get their attention. after a certain point, you'd realize you really could not get comfortable, so you'd huff quite audibly and stare at the ceiling, then toss and turn some more.

then after about 30 seconds, they'd pull you into their arms.

"wha-"

"you're moving too much." they'd say. and you'd nod, inching backward like an inchworm into their embrace. you'd quickly find a comfortable position there. no, no trouble at all. you'd realize how tired you really were and would let them hold you close until you fell asleep; before you'd squirm out of their arms. they were always there on the restless nights. on any nights, actually.

[dxvilhand]

someone PLEASE make a yandere death x reader; I would eat that shit up like a starving woman on death row. he SCREAMS big yandere or just a possessive fuck that wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt a single baby hair on his darling.👁️🫦👁️

[cantstoptheimagines]

Curador (Muerte | Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

Series Masterlist 

Summary — Muerte aches at the sight of you whenever he comes home.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Soulmate AU; helping a lover with their injuries (includes mentions of blood); established relationship; takes place directly after the movie; writers’ law states that every time an animated wolf comes into existence, I must write a fic; in my opinion, we should be calling him ‘Muerte’, so that’s what I’m going with; a huge thank you to my dear friend, Yoshino, for helping me with the Spanish translations.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 639. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ You will receive the same injuries as your soulmate (unless deadly).  ➳ Since Muerte is Death (straight up), why not make Life? I envision the Reader in this to be a spotted deer, who will be referred to as ‘Vida’. And who knows? I might turn this into a one-shot series if people enjoy it enough. Let me know what you think! 

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

The slamming of a door made your ears twitch. You paused, eyes narrowing as you listened to the creaking floors within your home. A damp cloth was pressed against the corner of your lip, dotted with small specks of blood. 

Footsteps slowly grew closer to your room. A quiet sigh escaped your lips when you realized who they belonged to. Having a lover with nearly silent movements did nothing but cause you panic sometimes. 

You returned your attention to the small mirror in your grasp. A shadow moved about the room and a cloak was tossed next to you on the bed. Looking up at the towering figure in front of you, your gaze found red eyes staring back at you. More specifically, staring at the cloth against your lip. 

“El gato lives,” he muttered, his deep voice sending shivers along your spine. “I have given him another opportunity to prove himself.” 

A small smile made itself known, “Is that why your attitude seems so foul?”

He hummed quietly, ignoring your teasing remark about the infamous Puss in Boots, whom he had been chasing for some time now. His startling eyes were still zeroed in on the cloth. 

“You really need to stop playing with your food, Muerte.” 

His eyes snapped to yours. They narrowed into slits, shining with irritation. He snapped his jaws to the side, huffing loudly as he looked away from you. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing quietly.

His claws wrapped around the hilt of one of his sickles. The mirror was quickly tugged away from you and tossed onto the bed. Your head was forced to tilt backwards as the sickle’s sharp blade was placed beneath your chin. 

Anyone else may have had fear coursing through their veins. You, however, weren’t worried at all. 

Muerte stepped closer until his paw could replace the blade. The sickle was quickly returned to its sheath while he looked down at you with a blank expression. You allowed him to tilt your head back even further as he took up the space between your thighs.

“Cállate, Vida,” he ordered.

His claws wrapped around the cloth, finally removing it from your lip. It, much like his cloak and your mirror, quickly disappeared from sight. Your injury reflected his own, signaling to the world that the two of you were a perfect pair. 

“It hurt when you got it,” you said. “I wasn’t expecting it.” 

His expression softened. You leaned into his touch as one of his claws caressed your cheek.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” he muttered.

You gave him a small smile, along with a shrug of the shoulders, in an attempt to make him feel better, “It’s okay. No harm truly done.”

His grip loosened, allowing you to take his paw into your grasp and hold it in your lap instead. He lowered himself to his knees. Due to his tall stature, kneeling allowed his gaze to become even with your own as you sat on the bed.

“Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso,” he continued. “Por tu bien.” 

“I don’t,” you replied, squeezing his paw tightly. 

His brow furrowed and his eyes searched for any sign that you may have been lying to comfort him, “Mi corazón—” 

“It lets me know you’re still there,” you whispered. “It lets me know you’ll be coming home soon.” 

He tried to hide a smile, looking away from you. That only lasted for mere seconds, however, since he couldn’t resist your gaze for very long. His red eyes explored your features. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the cut on your lip. 

“Déjame ser tu curador,” he muttered, and then he kissed you again.

“Always, Muerte,” you whispered, reaching up to stroke his cheek and pressing a gentle kiss against his nose. “Always.” 

Spanish Translations, In Order of Appearance: ➳ Curador (de enfermos) — Meaning “healer (of the sick)”.  ➳ Muerte — Meaning “death”. ➳ Vida — Meaning “life”.

➳ “El gato...” — “The cat...” ➳ “Cállate...” — “Shut up...” ➳ “Lo siento, mi amor.” — “I’m sorry, my love.”  ➳ “Ojalá tuviéramos un vínculo menos doloroso... Por tu bien.” — “I wish we had a less painful bond... For your sake.” ➳ “Mi corazón...” — “My heart...”  ➳ “Déjame ser tu curador.” — “Let me be your healer.” 

[oldgirl-shoutinginthevoid]

Some concepts and fanarts of my own Muerte X Reader fanfic Limbo!

And also, some bad funny sketchs of simp and shit

[dervampireprince]

[dni minors, dni blogs that have no 18+ age listed in their bio]

m4a, gender neutral reader, sub bottom reader

“having any regrets, cariño? not many people enjoy getting this close to death.”

the wolf towers above you, eyes glowing, his snout an inch from your nose. he grins as you shake your head, whimpering, wanting him closer, his tongue slipping out from between razor blade teeth to lap at your lips. heat courses through your body, always with that underlying hint of fear. you wonder if it’s instinctual, that because you know he is death, that he isn’t mortal, there will always be that nagging awe at the back of your mind, the knowledge that he could rip you apart whenever he wanted.

which is also what makes it so much more special when he has you laid down on the bed, his nose pressed into your crotch, huffing out breaths, the heat of it making you squeeze your thighs together. peering up at you like this he almost looks... cute.

he blinks up at you. you nod your head.

you watch as his claws drag your clothes down, reminding you of his patience. that one day he could have you squirming for hours, content to tease you and bring you close to the edge over and over, but never letting you orgasm, and you could imagine he’d just look down at you, a slight smirk on his face, even if now that smirk tended to be softer in his eyes.

he nuzzles at your stomach, running his cheek against you as he breaths in, looking almost embarrassed when he catches you staring, as if he’d gotten lost in your scent. the leathery pads of his fingers slide around your waist, claws scraping, not drawing blood but leaving marks, his marks, red lines running down your waist, around the backs of your thighs.

his tongue moves over your jaw and licks it’s way into your mouth as you writh under him. “so needy,” he chuckles, sliding back down to pet at your thighs, encouraging you to spread your legs. “and already this ready for me? aren’t you just precious.”

whether you were able to think of a response of not doesn’t matter, any words get cut off as he licks a stipe up between your legs. your fingers curl and clutch at the sheets as he prepares you for him, “it’s what you want, isn’t it? so eager to get my cock inside of you? well, since you’ve been so good for me, and you’ve been treating your life like the precious thing that it is...”

a puddle of his clothes ends up on the floor in an instant, his fur soft against your skin, his cock poking out, red and dripping. “you’re not the only one who’s eager, cariño” he pulls you by your hips so that his cock is pushing against you. “you are still sure you can take me?” you whine and frantically nod your head. he pushes his nose under your chin, licking up at your jaw, before pushing his cock inside you.

you arch your back as your stretched out, it’s so much but exactly what you wanted. once his cock is inside you, his controlled demeanour starts to crack, not wanting to hurt you but “you feel so good wrapped around me, little one, so warm, squeezing onto me as though you never want me to leave,” you moan and clench around him, “would you like that? keeping me inside of you? how long would you let me stay buried here, hm? you may get exactly what you’re wanting for”.

growls fill the room as you feel it, the base of his cock swelling and hitting against you, not able to slip inside, not yet, “is this what you want? you don’t have to take it, but if you want it you’d better make up your mind now. if that’s what you want? you want me to knot you little pup?”

not even sure if you’re able to speak, you try anyway, gasping and choking on your breath, “please”.

you scream when his knot slips inside of you, your body stretched even wider, throwing your arms around him, clutching onto his fur, your nails digging into him, muffling your noises in his chest as you cum around his cock, as he continues to thrust until he’s snarling, lips flaring around his teeth, spilling inside of you, filling you up.

he cradles you afterwards, running his claws over your scalp, “it’ll go down soon. i am surprised you took it so well, though perhaps your determination should not be a surprise to me anymore... and you did take it well. you did very well,” he praises you as you cuddle into him, “you should be proud of yourself, allowing me to knot you now means i cannot return to my work until it goes down. i suppose i have nothing else i can do but lay here with you... if that is no bother?”

in response you reach up to scratch behind his ears, smiling as he instinctually relaxes into your touch, tail thumping against the mattress, and groaning as he throbs inside of you.

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

I’d like to request PIB Death’s reaction to his GN!s/o coming up to him one day and booping his nose. I’ve been thinking about this a lot haha-

Hello there! ^^

Thank you for your request, it's a very cute idea! Though truth be told, I struggled with this one so much - I couldn't figure out how Death would react! Not to mention I hated whatever I wrote-

Also, so sorry for how long it took me to write this, like I've said, I been struggling with this one BUT also been struggling mentally, so yeah. (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

I also just read a good fic with Death, then read this one I wrote and realized I'm not good at portraying Death...yeah imma end myself now (⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠)(⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠෴⁠ ⁠༎ຶ⁠).

Anyways, I couldn't really decide if I wanted to do imagines or a fic, but ended up going with a short fic... or more like... a drabble? (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•⁠)

I kind of experimented with my style, felt like adding it a different feel. Hope y'all like this one nonetheless! ^^"

___________________________________________

{Death, his s/o, and nose boops}

Settings: I don't think I specified it throughout the story. Though a bit more of a romantic vibe, I think?

Genre: Pure fluff! :3

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Don't think there's any! Maybe just brief talks of life, mortality and death, but that's to be expected with Muerte ^^,

Sidenote: Reader is written as gender neutral, but if they might have a more female feel then it's purely unintentional and I apologize!

Sidenote: I've never written full fluff fic (or more like drabble) before , so I hope I did well ^^"

-

That should be all, muffins! Feel free to read now ^^.

Hope you'll enjoy <3.

___________________________________________

Death was old as time itself.

A sad but an important part of life, he's been here since the very start.

And so, he's seen everything.

He's been there, done that, seen that, heard that,...

Yeah, he's seen everything, and it was hard to surprise Death.

Or at least, that's what he liked to claim, completely unaware of what tricks up your sleeve you, a mere mortal, still had.

And only now, when the two of you were peacefully sitting on the couch in the living room, did he face the truth that he, in fact, has not seen all after all.

You were up to something for sure, otherwise there'd be no reason for that rascally smile on your face as you slowly extended your hand towards Death, your pointer finger outstretched and aiming for Death's nose or so it seemed.

Death said nothing at that behaviour, after all, now that he was with you, he knew firsthand that mortals- humans especially - were weird creatures.

And so, he let you do your thing, having too much adoration for you to stop you.

Not to mention, a curious creature was Death, and intrigued by your actions, he just watched with a raised eyebrow and a smirk as your finger slowly neared his nose.

Then your finger was closer and closer and-

"Boop!" squeaking out in voice of high pitch, your finger tapped his nose, squishing it.

Then dead silence fell upon you.

Death was quiet, saying nothing at all.

His pointy ears had perked up though, his eyes of crimson wide as he seemed to be processing the action you'd just done.

And you had no idea what reaction to expect now.

Death was unpredictable, and figuring out his next move was something you had never succeeded in.

Nobody has, not even once.

And when the dead silence went on, filling the room like a thick fog, you couldn't help but retreat your hand and offer a nervous, meek smile.

You weren't scared of course, you knew your dear Lobo wouldn't bring you no harm, not now not ever.

But that uncertainty of what he'd do still left you wary after all.

Much to your luck, though, Death spoke at last.

"What... what was that you just did?" he questioned and a light grin stretched across his face, ruby red eyes wide and intrigued.

The expression was somewhat an unsettling one.

Death's eyes all wide, glowing, burning like wildfire, his razor sharp teeth all exposed by his twisted grin.

And combined with his massive stature and eerie aura, one could easily feel preyed upon...

But the word 'scared' did not describe how you felt at that moment.

You weren't scared, you knew better than to be distrustful of the wolf.

You trusted him fully, you didn't fear him even when he gazed at you like that.

You weren't scared.

Not when, with enough attention paid, you could notice Death's tail wagging ever so slightly.

And not when you had another giveaway of him being just intrigued by your action with no side motives - he intensely sniffed the air through his big nose with light growls rumbling in his throat.

Again, this action could seem intimidating to anyone else and could make them uneasy, but you knew that this action meant no danger - in your case that is.

In your case, you'd say it was something like when dogs panted happily when something caught their interest.

In other cases, mostly when it came to people who were reckless with their life or when it came to people who hurt others, this action had similar, but much more dangerous and terrifying meaning...

Well anyways, with that you knew you were in no real danger.

Although you still needed to be a bit cautious about what Death would do.

It could range from shrugging it off to starting a hunt with you being the prey.

"Oh... I... booped your nose...?" you answered and offered an awkward smile, unsure whether or not Death would be familiar with such term.

You didn't count on that much though.

"You... booped... my nose?" Death repeated after you, the term unfamiliar for his tongue.

And that eyebrow raise was enough for you to know your dear Lobo's never heard such word. Yet, his grin still remained the same - sly, intrigued.

Death added nothing more though, and only stared at you with his wide eyes that made you feel in the story of Little Red Riding Hood when The Big Bad Wolf stared at the little girl with wide eerie gaze, and the girl uttered those famous words: "But Grandmother, what big eyes you have!".

You wondered where your own story would lead to if you uttered those exact words to your Big Bad Wolf... Your Lobo feroz...

Nonetheless, you got the silent hint, and went ahead to elaborate what it meant to boop someone's nose.

"It's when you affectionately tap or squish someone's nose and say a 'boop'." you explained softly, smiling meekly.

Then taking a note of that light head tilt and eyebrow raise Death did at your words, you added: "It's a show of endearment,".

"It's a show of endearment," Death repeated after you as if checking he's heard correct, his voice holding a quality you couldn't really pinpoint.

Was it amusement you heard? confusion? disbelief? something else? It was hard to tell.

And then, Death fell silent once again.

It was silent again, and you weren't sure of what to do, Death being way too hard to figure out at the very moment - just like most times...

Hesitantly, you prepared to say something - anything - to break the awkward silence.

But then a chuckle came.

A chuckle came, and Death muttered: "Oh my," before covering his eyes with his paw and a grin grew on his face as his shoulders bounced ever so slightly.

Was he...?

And then it came!

Death broke into a fit of laughter.

Death was laughing!

He was wholeheartedly laughing like never before, the deep sound being sharp to the ears yet warm to the heart.

"Squishing nose and making a silly, high pitched sound to show affection!" Death exclaimed, shaking his head with amusement all written over the wolf's face as he laughed.

He seemed to be having the time of his life, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling all warm inside at the sight.

It was honestly sweet, refreshing to see Death like that, and so you didn't even risk saying something, letting your Lobo have his fun.

"My," Death breathed, his laughter eventually dying down to just an occasional chuckle, "you mortals never fail to amuse me,"

"you never really disappoint..." Death mused still shaking his head some with an amused grin on his face.

"Squishing nose and making a silly, high pitched sound to show affection..." he repeated his earlier exclamation, a light chuckle escaping him again before his half-lidded eyes found yours and he went all silent.

"Yeah, it is quite strange, isn't it?" You said lowly once your eyes locked with Death's, a meek smile playing on your face as a light chuckle left your lips as well.

It really was unusual yet amusing, you had to admit that.

Though still feeling a bit awkward in the moment, your instincts told you to ramble, which you attempted to do: "Honestly, I don't even-".

But then.

"Boop," Death muttered and his clawed finger tapped the tip of your nose!

Oh no way! Did he just-??

"Boop..." Death repeated, and chuckled at how silly the sound sounded before he did the action again.

He booped your nose and let out that silly 'boop' sound, making you peek at his finger cross-eyed and scrunch your nose as he smiled.

And right after he did all that, his ears and whole body perked up and his tail wagged all happily!

And as Death's soft smile twisted into a wide, satisfied grin and Death yet again intensely breathed through his nose, growls rumbling in his throat, the message was made clear:

You better prepare for a life filled with nose boops from now on.

Better watch out.

___________________________________________

[deathisararemercy]

Red String

Death x ghost/soulmate!Reader

Oh. This definitely wasn’t supposed to be happening. For starters, you were dead. Secondly, you could finally see your red string. Lastly, the person in front of you, the person who was supposedly supposed to be your soulmate according to the string, was Death.

A/N: aka Muerte doesn't expect anyone to really love him and needs a friend/partner. This started as an introductory exploration and lengthened into about 1500 words. Not sure if I will continue with more of this, but this was fun and much needed after a long week.

Part 1 | Part 2 |

Oh. This definitely wasn’t supposed to be happening.

For starters, you were dead. Alive one second, staring at your lifeless body the next. You weren’t even really sure how you died. You were in the middle of the forest by a river. There was no one else in sight. You knew you didn't want to die yet. You had more things to do, more sights to see, more life to live. You had these things. Whatever your death was, it got in the way of all of this. But every time you tried to remember your death or examine your physical body for details, your vision started to blur and your head felt like it was ready to split straight open. It was better not to look at your body or try to think too much about the details.

Secondly, you could finally see your red string. When you were alive, it seemed like almost everyone had one. People were finding their strings and living their “happily ever after”s with their universe-designated soulmate. Granted, some people lived perfectly fine lives without red strings, but you always want to be able to find your soulmate and see yours. So you met as many people as you could during your life and tried many new and different things in order to hopefully run into your soulmate. Unfortunately, you didn’t see your red string while you were alive. Now, you were dead and that stupid thread was right in front of you, glowing a brilliant ruby red.

Lastly, the person in front of you, the person who was supposedly your soulmate according to the string, was Death. Given the way the wolf’s sickles fell to the ground with a soft thud, the way his red eyes widened, and the fact he quietly said “mierda” upon seeing you, he was just as surprised as you were about this sudden development.

His red eyes were glowing brighter than the thread, but Death didn’t seem angry, just…stunned. The string caught him speechless. He removed his hood. Shaking his head, he approached you, picking up and effortlessly sheathing his sickles. “Is this some sort of practical joke?” In shock yourself, you remained statuesque as he inhaled deeply, inches from your face. He frowned as he pulled away. “You smell dead.”

As he circled you, looking up and down, you plucked the red thread that connected your chests together. It played a high note over the sound of the nearby water. “Honestly, this is probably as weird as it is to you as it is to me.” Death continued to circle you. “So are you going to ship me off to the spirit world or what? We’re both sort of stuck here until you cut me loose.” You gestured to the silver cord coming from your chest and connecting to that of your dead body.

Death waved a paw dismissively, leaving you to give him a bewildered look. He sat on the ground several feet away from you, back against a tree. “I’ll get around to it,” he said, picking at the grass. “I’d just like to know if you’re seeing what I’m seeing.”

“Yes,” you drawled, “I see the bright red string. We’re soulmates. Apparently.”

He slapped a hand on his forehead, dragging it down slowly as he said something inaudible to your ears. He looked like he had half a mind to get up, walk off, and leave you stranded in the forest. Something must have changed his mind, however, and he got up, walked towards you, and tried to cut the red string with a sickle.

The string really didn’t like that.

It remained uncut, resonating with a low and angry hum, but the both of you winced as a sharp pain shot through your chests. As quickly as it had come, it was gone. Death grunted before rising back to his full height, raising his sickle to strike again.

You raised a hand. “Don’t.” He stopped, staring at your firm look. Cautiously, you walked as close to him as you could without being yanked back by your dead body, and placed a hand on his arm. You lowered it slowly, looking Death in the eye as you spoke. “We can’t break it.”

He blinked before sighing. Death sat back down, allowing you to sit across him. The river continued to flow languidly. “I should have known that Fate was up to something when she got into sewing,” the wolf grumbled. “I just didn’t think she’d wrap me up into this. So, we’re going to have to figure this out then?”

“Yup.” You stared at him. It would be weird in any other context, but you were dead and he was Death, and you didn’t really have much else to stare at other than trees, rocks, and water. It didn’t seem like he wanted to talk much either.

Though his large frame was relaxed and slumped over gently, he wrapped his arms around himself, hood pulled over his head again. Bending your head slightly down, you could see that his red eyes were trained intently on the ground. His white-grey fur seemed dark in the shade of the trees. He was…pretty. That didn’t feel right. What was the right word to describe him at this moment? Contemplative? Brooding? Handsome?

“I’m sorry you died.”

Your gaze was quickly directed towards the tree behind Death. “What do you mean? It’s not your fault. Besides, you see people die all the time-” You realized what you said as soon as the words left your mouth. If you hadn’t died already, you would’ve died of shame. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Death shrugged, getting up. You followed suit. “No, you’re right. No one ever escapes me.” He drew his sickles and approached your dead body. “I should rephrase what I said: I’m sorry your passage to the afterlife has been delayed by this…unprecedented development. I know you spent much of your life looking for your soulmate.” Using the back of one of his sickles, he tapped the red thread connecting you to him. “But I’m not sure if I would make the perfect partner. Not many people would consider Death a ‘happily ever after.’”

He tapped the silver cord that connected you to your dead body. “So, I’ll cut you loose and take you down to the spirit world. You might be able to make friends there. Who knows?” he laughed. “You could find your own soulmate there.”

You really liked how he laughed. Oh my fairy godmother. You were falling for Death. And right now, signs were pointed towards him not wanting to have a soulmate. If he wanted one, he wasn’t making it obvious. But why did Fate apparently tie you two together by this red string?

“Muerte?”

The sickle fell to his side. “Yes?”

“Do you think our red string will break? If you cut the silver cord, I mean.”

His eyes widened a little. “I didn’t think about that.” He began plucking at the two strings. “Silver cords have pre-dated red threads. Me cutting your cord probably won’t break your thread, and it won’t automatically send you to the spirit world either. You can stick around the mortal plane if you’d like.”

“I think I’d like that. Do you mind the company?”

Muerte clearly didn’t expect you to ask that. He frowned. “You’re seriously not asking to hang around me are you? Not many people are fans of my work, or at least, what they think it entails. It’s the sort of job that makes someone lonely.”

Time to be blunt. “You don’t have to be lonely?” You pulled him closer by tugging on your string. “I’ll ask you again: Do you mind my company?”

The wolf was at war with himself. His ears twitched a little as he turned away from you, pacing back and forth. He spent a great deal of time muttering to himself before facing you again with a resolute expression on his face. “Alright, fantasma pequeño. I’ll cut your cord and you can come along. Whenever you want to go to the spirit world, you just tell me.”

Now, his tail was wagging a little. You smiled a tiny bit as he tried to subtly grab it firmly and stop it.“I’d love to hear more about you and the people you’ve met. You’ve lived an interesting life, you know.”

“Yes, considering I was there for all of it.”

At this he chuckled, before baring his teeth in a wide grin. His sickle was comfortably back in his hand. “Well then, it’s time to go. Ready?

 You nodded, and with one clean motion, he cut the silver cord. For a moment, your life flashed before your eyes, before a calmness settled into your body. You felt lighter than before.

“Well,” you said, smacking your lips. “This will take some getting used to.”

“Certainly,” Death laughed. It was an intoxicating laugh. He grinned charmingly. “But you have me here for you.”

“Until the end of time.”

“God, I’d hope you wouldn’t stick around that long.”

You punched him in the arm for teasing you, and he laughed again. Accepting his offer, you linked your spectral arm in his, and together, you went off to see what the world had to offer for Death and his ghost.

[eye-of-iberia]

[SFW] A Date With Death || Death x GN!Reader

some gn!reader x death/muerte fluff involving one of your first dates with the mysterious wolf. its good for the soul.

summary: you managed to drag death to a local carnival. although he is initially hesitant towards the idea, the two of you manage to have a good time together.

Needless to say, Death is not amused by the idea. At all.

He's learned to humor your strange requests every now and then, but nothing like this. He's not necessarily a fan of the public eye.

Still, you've been looking forward to spending time with him for a while now. He couldn't possibly say no to that, right?

Rather on edge at the beginning of your date—after all, he's Death, he doesn't know how to enjoy himself. But as time goes on, he'll learn to calm himself down, maybe even take a breather. That isn't to say he won't need your help getting to that point, though.

Very protective of you during the entire date. He'll place a lone paw on your shoulders to keep you next to him, and if you're too embarrassed about it, he'll offer to hold your hand the entire date instead. Anything to keep you close enough to him.

The first sign of trouble that shows, he'll be prepared for anything. Death has no qualms about hurting someone, should they try and hurt you. After all, your safety is of utmost importance to him. 

You're gonna have to do some hard convincing for him to try some of the food there. Not only is he a wolf, so his tastes would naturally be different than yours, but he's practically immortal. As such, he doesn't really see the need in eating himself.

Likes to show off. Really likes to show off. There's a high-striker? An easy opportunity to flex his strength. Ring toss? Anything to impress you. Whack-a-Mole? Certainly not his favorite, but he'll certainly try his damnedest if it means you'll be proud of him.

Speaking of which, he loves your attention. You might be on a date with him, but he wants your eyes on him the entire time.

When you call him out on it, he'll try and brush it off as just his way of worrying for you, but you can see his tail wagging softly underneath his poncho. Best not to bring it up, though.

A kissing booth? Say no more. Even in the privacy of closed spaces, his kisses are always gentle, yet carry a hint of intensity. Loves the touch of your skin against his lips more than anything.

Any prizes you win, he'll offer to carry them for you, no matter how big it is. And if he wins anything, he'll give it to you as a gift. He doesn't need it, but he likes seeing you happy. So a win is a win.

In a rare instance where he does lose a carnival game, he might sulk about it afterward. Won't take long for him to pick himself back up, but he doesn't like losing. Especially not in front of you.

But all in all, you can say you thoroughly enjoyed yourself today. You can ask Death for his opinion, but at most, he'll just say "...estuvo bien," but you can tell by the subtle wagging of his tail that he had his share of fun too. Just in his own, special way.

As you walk home and recount the fun you had today, he'll absentmindedly place his poncho over you to keep you warm.

He won't realize what he's done until you point it out to him, to which he'll unabashedly tell you not to worry too much about it, before putting a hand around your shoulder, as he pulls you closer.

[mythicamagic]

Death Comes Knocking

AN: Not finishing projects seems to be the norm right now- so just take this lil 1,000 words of Lobo/Muerte x reader bc he gave me brain worms okay? Puss in Boots The Last Wish was so good you guys omg.

Pairing: Muerte x Female Reader

Rating: T

Summary: She's given a stern warning. 'No more of your kind are allowed' so she extends an offer to Death in return.

---

She’s seen him before, on the faces of those she’d loved. Their eyes would glaze over and become empty, void of all animation, becoming quiet and still as they took their last breaths. There- in the right hand corner of that glassy void in their pupils- the shadow of Death could be briefly seen, passing over and stealing all light.

The silk spinner has witnessed this countless times- from the luxury of these people’s bedsides as they peacefully passed, to freak accidents involving one too many drunken unicorns and a travelling puppet show. The world she inhabited was colourful, vibrant and endless- so it stood to reason that in this world, Death himself could be a real, breathing creature.

She just never expected to gain a personal audience with him.

“You’re becoming lonesome, inmortal.”

The woman jumped, startled so badly she lost grip on the white sheet she’d been taking down. A large hand snapped out to catch it mid-air, slowly lowering it back down to her in offering. It took a moment for her frozen hands to accept it, gazing up at the creature looming over her washing line. His shadow swallowed her whole. He gazed at her with a kind of unblinking- red eyed fixation- the kind that betrayed his identity before the suffocatingly still atmosphere did, as if time itself had frozen.

A wolf had entered her garden.

“Hate to be a bother…but when you get lonely it becomes a problem for me,” he continued in his perfectly polite tone. There was a faint, gravelly edge to his voice, but it hummed pleasantly in her ears rather than frightened her.

Recovering from her shock, the silk spinner folded her sheet and placed it atop a waiting pile.

“How so?” she found her voice.

“Well, you repeat the cycle, of course- the one that led you here,” he wandered around her humble garden, taking care to weave around bird feeders and windchimes without so much as a strand of fur brushing them. He moved on two legs like any human, not an odd sight. The graceful fluidity of his movements was alarming though. Deliberate and predatory. He was looping around her in a lazy circle that was slowly tightening. “It’s only natural…everyone’s predictable in a few certain ways: one of them is the universal truth that when you get lonely, you seek company,” he mused, finally stopping before her. “And the company of mortals just isn’t cutting it anymore, is it? Hm, my friend?”

He stood a good several feet taller than her. Not even attempting to crane her neck up, the woman tidied her basket and lifted it as if readying to walk back into her tiny cottage. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone. They all die eventually, I’m not sure why you’re worried.”

With that said she took a step, only to find her wicker basket snagging on something- a sickle. The wolf practically used it as a fish-hook, turning her back to face him, and this time she had no choice but to gaze down the grey expanse of his muzzle straight into those vibrant red eyes.

“You’re not listeniiing~” he sing-songed in a gentle, cajoling tone full of too much teeth. He tilted his head with a patronising smile. “What cycle led you here?”

As if she could forget. “My creator was…lonely,” she murmured. “So, he made me, and eventually more of my kind.”

“Right you are! And I’m not such a big fan of that. Of your…kind,” a single deadly claw skimmed her cheek in a whisper of steel on flesh. The suggestion of it sent her heart racing. “You’re all so heavy. I can feel you.” All at once the playfulness vanished from his expression, leaving only a quiet sense of malice and frustration in his tight whisper. “The world won’t withstand the weight of too many of you.”

“So you’re here to stop me before I can even think about creating more immortals, is that it?”

“Bingo! My work here is done,” the wolf leaned back with satisfaction, and it felt like the garden could breathe again. Air entered her lungs, and the silk spinner shuddered quietly when his shadow drew away, allowing sunlight to kiss her skin anew.

With his silent warning given, the wolf swung his previously concealed sickle up onto his shoulder and happily strolled toward her humble gate, whistling an eerie tune.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, so quietly it was a surprise he heard her at all. But he halted immediately in his tracks. She could see his hackles rise a little just beneath the folds of his hood. “I’m not afraid, so there’s no reason for me to listen to you- Muerte.”

Death turned and met her even gaze. His silver fur fanned gently in the breeze, his tail flicking with agitation.

“Oho I really don’t think you want to go there,” light glinted off his sharp rows of teeth, the points glinting like treacherous mountain peaks. “True I can’t harvest your soul, but you’ve seen the life flashing before people’s eyes as I’ve taken them.”

He was suddenly there before her again, tilting her chin up with the flat of his blade. Her body automatically tensed, watching as the black specs of his pupils shined white, two moons hanging in a blood-soaked sky. “You were there, just as much as I was. You know- cordera- how painful it can be. How painful I can make it,” hot, panting breath fanned over her upturned face. Those rows of teeth were now inches from her ear as he leaned in close. “You won’t die, no- but are you really prepared to suffer me, over and over again, for breaking the rules?”

She swallowed. It was impossible not to picture the numerous grizzly ways she’d seen or heard people die.

Satisfaction leaked into his animalistic features. “Heh, thought so. Be seeing you.”

But I…I’m still alone.

Before he turned away, Death seemed to notice her expression. “If you’re really that hungry for company, then find the other heavy ones weighing this world down.”

“I don’t uh- get on well with the others,” she admitted weakly, knuckles relaxing from her death grip on the wicker basket. “We’d be living together if we enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Touché.“ He shrugged his large shoulders, resting a sickle on one with a bored look. “Well it’s not my problem, figure it out on your own time.”

Alarm flashed through her chest inexplicably as he finally turned away.

“Wait-“

“Carajo!” he hissed, glaring at her like she’d overstayed her welcome despite him being the one to approach her home. “What is it now?”

“Since you’re the one who has a problem with me creating fellow immortals- but I’m still hungry for company- the solution is right under our noses, no?” She smiled and dropped her basket to spread her arms wide, gesturing to the humble space situated on the mountainside. “You will become my companion.”

It amused her to see his dark features become blank with genuine surprise. His triangular ears perched upon his head flicked and flattened to his skull as if he’d tasted something sour.

“Cómo fue?”

“You are Death incarnate,” she said, confidence filling her tone the more she spoke. Yes- why hadn’t she thought of it before? This was perfect. “You won’t die- and I can’t be killed and won’t age. It makes sense to keep each other company.”

“You want…my company? Mine?” He shot her a look like she was crazy.

“Is that a problem?”

He tilted his head, falling silent for a long, silent moment. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over her frame as he stalked closer. “…You must be starving very badly, if your need has driven you to beg for me to be in your midst. Only the souls of the suicidal and desperate call for me.”

“I’m not quite that far gone in my apathy for life. I’m 500 years young,” she smiled, offering her human hand out to his monstrously large, silver furred one to stop him from baring too harshly down on her, stopping him in his tracks. “But yes, I am…famished,” the admission slipped out oddly breathlessly, though she was uncertain why.

His mouth slowly upturned, sizing her up in an entirely different way from before. Intrigue, perhaps? He looked just as hungry as she felt.

“Well, well. What big eyes you have,” he purred, gazing at her intently with a wicked gleam in his own red hues.

She returned his smile with one full of teeth as her hand became engulfed in fur and warmth.

From that day on, Pygmalion’s immortal bride kept Death’s company whenever he had a moment to spare.

---

End

[verlaines-corner-archive]

NO cause I don’t think you understand. I’m a boyfriend hoodie kinda person and I like wearing clothes that are too big for me, you can’t just say “Muerte would fuck you while you wear his poncho” and expect me to be CALM about it are you insane?? You brought this upon yourself Kal /j

Anyways, getting right down to business, I feel like most of the time when you’re wearing it it’s not with the intention to rile him up, at least not at first. Muerte’s a wolf, they’re territorial creatures, and like you said in your SFW alphabet, he isn’t naturally a jealous lover. Seeing you in his clothes (but ESPECIALLY his poncho) doesn’t make him think “this marks them as mine” it’s more of a knee jerk reaction of affection (or cuteness aggression LMAO), not possession.

He wouldn’t have a huge reaction to seeing you wear it for the first time, just a playful “oh so you’re taking my clothes now?” before curling up with you in bed or on the couch. All innocent until he starts thinking and taking you in at least. The poncho isn’t dirty or anything but he can still very clearly smell himself on it but what really gets him is your smell mingling with his so closely. The only time it’s that closely woven together is when you two are having sex and he basically has a Pavlovian response to it. He doesn’t immediately jump into fucking you but he’s definitely grinding on you as inconspicuously as he can.

It’s a little cute. Pressing his whole face into your shoulder and trying not to be too obvious with what he’s doing but at the same time he’s got a grip on you that’s hard not to notice. Tease him or don’t- you’ll get the same outcome. In this situation, where it’s not on purpose, it’s more of a cuddle-fuck, Muerte wants to be close to you, he’s definitely a lot gentler than usual, kissing you, holding your legs apart, basically not letting you do any of the work, just be good and let him use you, alright?

Afterwards he’s just a wee bit embarrassed about having that kind of response to you just wearing his clothes and DO NOT let him live it down, the motherfucker (lovingly) kinkshames you all the time, he will not be spared. (“Are you going to do laundry or are you just going to steal my clothes all week.” “Oh you would like that wouldn’t you?” “listen-”)

On the other hand, if you’re wearing Muerte’s poncho with the full knowledge of what you’re doing? You’re in for it.

It’s a little funny, if you wear the poncho with nothing on underneath and “hide” further back in the house he already has a clue what’s going on. Muerte can smell you pretty clearly (whether it be because he’s intimately familiar with your scent or you’re just that bad at hiding how aroused you are) and he kinda assumes that he knows what he’s in for, but when he actually finds you he pauses.

You don’t actually sense him until he’s right behind you, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back so he can get a good look at you. He doesn’t know why but the way you’re trying to pretend like you’re not standing here fully naked save for his poncho, which is swallowing you up in the best and worst ways. He likes that you’re wearing it but he wants it off for pretty obvious reasons.

He’s a bit stuck on what to do for a moment, Muerte’s lost in his thoughts and he’s not in any way shy or embarrassed about the way he’s feeling you up through the poncho. (PLEASEE the way he’d have your back against his chest/stomach while he gropes your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers, how he’d be lowkey choking you while he rubs on your clit… god) Squirm and whine all you want, he’s not letting go, nor is he giving in to any attempt to get him to cave in and fuck you against the wall. Nope, he’s gonna pick you apart slowly and that’s that.

He’s def manhandling you, but who’s complaining about that? You certainly aren’t. There’s just a small (very small, minuscule even, he swears) part of him that wants to make you cry and plead for him, and ‘unfortunately’ he’s gonna act on it. One minute you’re on your back, one leg up over Muerte’s shoulder, making you take all of him because despite how you’re crying “too much- s’ too much I can’t-!”he can feel you clench around him. He’s happy to tell you that if it’s ‘too much’ then he’ll just pull out, just to see you practically sob and claw at his shoulders, trying to pull him back to you.

Muerte isn’t above being cruel- he doesn’t do it often to you, he prefers praising you- but it’s so easy to croon over you in mock sympathy as you hiccup and sob when he’s done fucking you on your back. Don’t think he’s done with you though, he’ll give you a quick break (you’re only human after all) but the second you think maybe, just maybe he’s done, he’s pulling you up, putting you on all fours and starting back up again.

This time he’s got one hand (paw?) on your hip with the other on the back of your neck, forcing you to turn your head and look back at him. He’s kind enough to move the hand on your hip up to your chest when your arms give out, bending you at the waist and leaning over you so he can get right in your ear. (“Are you crying because it hurts or are you just ashamed that you like being fucked like this? You can be honest sweet thing, after all it doesn’t matter- I’ll fuck you like this either way.”)

Muerte gets a little lost in the moment, my guy is WHIPPED even if he has an extreme way of showing it. He already says some filthy shit but he is FOUL when he’s got you like this- please don’t feed into it in any way if you can still speak at this point, cause you won’t be leaving anytime soon if you do.

Yes the poncho is on during all of this. That shit stays ON during sex.

The aftercare every time is immaculate. The duality of Muerte is one minute he’s fucking you like he absolutely loathes you then sweet talking and pampering you like you dropped from heaven the next. He’ll carry you wherever you need to go to clean up then lay with you for as long as he can before he has to go. He feels bad for having to go but let’s be real you’re fast asleep the second he’s done cleaning you up.

Head in my hands I’m going to go live in the woods. Hell has a very special place for my horny ass 🕳👩🏽‍🦯

Muerte fucking you in his poncho [thoughts]

 ->Anon I don't even know where to start with this, I am very glad I brought this upon myself hehe. Under the cut due to length.

You’re right first of all, when you do it unintentionally the sex is very soft. It is definitely your smell and his own that get Muerte going and I do think it is a little obvious. From his grip on you, the way his claws dig in slightly, to the way he’s sniffing you, and finally the way his tail starts thumping on the bed/couch slightly [not to mention the fact that Muerte is probably packing so you can feel him against you anyway LMAO].

Muerte will definitely turn you around to face him during this, one paw slipping under his poncho and onto your back while the other hooks your leg around his waist. Manages to kind of curl around you during it too, face having barely left your shoulder/neck, licking and biting gently as he breathes in the scent of you both. The way he fucks you is admittedly a little desperate, going from slow and gentle to fast and rough as he gets closer to cumming, but all things considered it remains soft.

And yeah, there’s definitely embarrassment afterwards. I think the main cause of that is that Muerte prides himself on being in control of his own desires. He is calm and collected almost always, and even though he’s certainly gotten lost in the pleasure of fucking you before he has always thought himself composed enough to not get turned on by something as simple as your scent with his. Do tease him about it, he almost gets flustered when you do and it’s adorable.

Now intentionally? Yeah like you said, you’re absolutely fucking in for it. Wearing his poncho with nothing underneath is a sure fire way to make sure your legs just don’t work for the next few days because Muerte does not hold back. At all. 

Which is a little surprising because once again: pride in remaining composed.

Which I think Muerte actually manages at first. Sure, the moment he finds you you’re pressed between his chest and the wall, but his breathing -- while shallow - is calm, and the way he touches you is strategic almost, going for places he knows will have you squirming and whining in his grasp. He keeps the illusion of being fully in control of himself perfectly at first, though it might be more correct to say that he gets you so focused on what’s going to happen that you don’t actually notice his composure start to break.

The main thing keeping Muerte’s composure from fully snapping is that he wants to see you break first. Have you begging and pleading for him, reduce you to an incoherent tear filled mess. Especially in regards to you actually taking his cock. You cries of “too much” are just so cute to him, though I don’t think he’d threaten to pull out. He praises you, telling you that you’re such a good little mate for him and that he knows you can take him, and then just proceed to shove himself in you all at once. Don’t worry, he’ll give you a minute or two to adjust, placing affection licks and kisses to you face to help you relax before just fucking you silly. 

And yeah, he is definitely a bit mean during it. Sickeningly sweet would be a good way to describe it; praising you but it’s so condescending and almost cold. Though it never really feels like he doesn’t care for you, despite what he’s saying there’s a soft undertone to his voice, even if it’s almost drowned out by mock care.

Now before Muerte puts you in doggy I think he’d make you ride him. You’re exhausted even after one round, legs shaking and head uselessly tilting to the side as you try to gather your thoughts in an even remotely coherent manner, which is exactly why he likes this position. Muerte loves watching your legs threaten to give out as you try to bounce yourself on his lap, and the way he way you cling to his shoulders for support it so cutely pathetic to him, it’s intoxicating. And when you finally collapse on his chest because you can’t possibly keep riding him he calls you his useless little thing before pulling you off him and putting you on your hands and knees.

That ends with him having to hold you to his chest as he fucks you from behind, because your arms and legs are practically jelly at that point, and that’s also when Muerte’s composure fully breaks. He’s growling and snarling above you, drooling as he fucks into you like a wild beast. You can’t even make out what he’s saying anymore, save for faint mutters of “mine”.

And yes!!! The aftercare is fucking amazing. Muerte smothers you in praise and affection before going to clean you up, running you a nice warm bath and washing you because there’s no way you can do it yourself. Makes sure to dry you with the fluffiest towels before carrying you to bed and cuddling up to you. Muerte is admittedly a little worn out himself, so there’s a far chance he’ll be falling asleep with you, and even if he has to leave I could see him shirking his duties just to stay with you. Hehe tail wagging hehe

[mcmuerteflurry]

Lobo/muerte/death handlers HC-GN victim reader- muerte speech

!CW: suggestive and possible NSFW and google translate!

Whistling will be one of the most common sounds you’ll hear in a daily basis

You have to either be the most interesting being in existence or a Cupid must’ve used their most powerful arrow and ran out along the way

Perhaps one of, if not, the most dangerous in the Shrek universe

Would commonly call the victim conejito (bunny in Spanish) in a mocking tone

Running only motivates him to chase

An example you tried escaping him

“He will cling on to you like a demon in love with a religious woman”

Possibly going to any religious professional or spiritual professional such as a shaman or a fortune teller would all have their thoughts and astral minds clouded on your situation

It is merely impossible to escape the images of muerte wether it’s paintings, cards, cups or even posters the victim will see him everywhere

No tailsman or any religious or protective relics can save you from the personification of fear and death

The victim should get use to being in a continuous state of fear

The first time the victim hears those answers they’re at the state of confusion or laughter either way it doesn’t end right

Victim’s first time hearing the whistle placed them in the state of panic attacks or even anxiety attacks for their words are true

“Do not indulge with him for his appearance is most appealing”

“Mi amor engulf yourself in my aura for there would be eternal safety” he would announce with open arms that he has completely not recited for hours before introducing himself

“Do not feed to the delusion of his for it will consume you”

“I am indeed your one true love”

Mirrors are the reader’s worst enemy because muerte can watch them via the mirrors (like how some Jinns and demons can watch through the mirrors)

Tú pensamiento pobre conejito

Think someone can help nope! Not even witchcraft or a guillotine would get that wolf’s tongue out of your ass for as long as you cease to exist

Would destroy any form of communication with others because he believes “he knows better, he’s been on this planet since the beginning of time and knows every scenario by the”

He would hold the victim in his arms as a “protection” mechanism to make the victim feel safe in his delusions

“Mi amor, mi conejito I know what’s best for you, you don’t even have to repay me like those friends of yours just stay in my arms is all I’m asking for”

Any time you deny his assistance he would always find a way to get you to lean to him

Would purposely cause casualties to make sure you’re entirely dependent on them

“Mi conejito… I always knew they didn’t care for you only I care for you in the highest of levels because I am the only true love for you”

His sickles tallies the amount of family he has killed and is craving for many more to envelope their victim into isolation

I HC that he can interact with animals like how in some demonology books some demons can interact with someone via animals or revive and give messages

He says as the animal souls gave him the signal that your friend’s and family soul has reached the river to the ferrymen

Animal souls become a common visitor wether it is a message with gifts or regular message

You haven’t touched your drink you okay mate

The victim is either avoiding some pubs or finding hidden ones

The victim attempted to stand up and walk away but was soon stopped by a pair of arms gripping the side of their waist

Muerte’s breathe brushes against the victim’s ears

“mi conejita donde pensaste que podías correr” (my bunny did you think you could run)

Muerte would coo nothing less than sweet things whilst their hand explore the victim’s body

The victim’s breathe hitch as they try to stabilise themselves causing the bartender to question them in concern

“No one can see us so why don’t we continue this somewhere”

I don’t want to do this to you but you need to learn

If the victim managed to run that’s a miracle but disguised as a curse (Some NSFW)

Scenario A

The victim’s back has been slammed to the wall of an alleyway late at night during a festival

The victim’s hands above their head and Muerte’ touches teasing the victim under their cloak

The area getting steamy with huffing and yelps

Scenario B

The victim cannot find a proper disguise thus steals the poncho/cloak to hide in the crowd

The victim finally arrived to the back of a building to rest their breathing with their palms on the walls to avoid showing their face

“mi conejo, no puedes esconderte de mí, estoy tan en tu mente como en el área en la que resides” My rabbit, you can't hide from me, I'm as much in your mind as I am in the area in which you reside.

Was the last thing the victim heard before a leg was lifted and muffled moans escaped

“You look adorable in my poncho/cloak we should continue doing this for our ‘little sessions’ hm?”

Conclusion

“All I want from you is to act obedient and submissive under my rule is that too much to ask” he complains

He would throw the victim onto his back and walk back to an area where you cannot run nor hide

[lorsdelapluie]

The scene takes place in the world of Puss in Boots 2, in Far far away. The reader in all my one shots concerning this world is the incarnation of bad luck, they are literally just trying to go through life and enjoy however they can.

IT IS HERE THE NSFW CHAPTER LADIES AND GENTS. EAT THIS UP. Im sorry it took so long but I hope it's gonna be worth it :' D

Note: "Chiqui" is spanish pet name that means "Little one".

Part 2- Mi Pareja.

Death was a jealous entity, you got to learn this the hard way. After your first encounter, which occured now several months ago, the wolf would oftenly visit to check on you. Pretending to check if the Lloronas weren't still mad at him for stepping in their ritual and therefore would take their revenge on you. Of course, you didnt buy any of this, you were pretty sure that Las famosas Lloronas didn't hold grudges against you and they probably forgot about that accident. As they were deeply focused on the man they were hunting and not you, you just happened to be in the way. And how would any creature in Far far away dare to hold grudge against Death itself.

Right now, you were stuck in a pool of mud, your high boots now uneapperant as you had your feet deep in this. You couldn't move, and by some strike of luck, a group of men were trying to help you. Tying a rope around you waist as they were trying to pull you away. You perceived every word with crips clarity as they gave you instructions to help you get out of this mess. Hearing every scruff and octave in the men's voice, something which reassured you in some way, making you think of the voice of your protector for the past few months. You felt the rope dip under the back of your belt, scratching your skin. That hurt. But as the pression on the rope grew, the pulls too, you soon could pull out your leg of the mess. You were walking right through this shit, and soon as you came closer to the shore, a hand extended to you.

Your eyes roses, encountering the face of the guy in front of you. He had pale blue eyes, strong face features and pretty brushed golden hair. His outfit, his face and his gentle way of brigging you back on the land with soft smile, even though you cleraly looked like a mess, made you wonder if you were not in front of a prince. What prince, this you could not know. Why ? Cause there was not only one prince in Far far away. Many of them were wealthy, which was the case of the one in front of you, you assumed.

"Who are you ?" you murmured out of curiosity. You turned around, looking at the lake of mud that you just left then your eyes met those pale blue eyes that were looking at you with concern. "Oh, sorry, I completely forgot about the part where i need to be civilized. So, thank you !"

"Vania. Prince Vania. And you are ?" So he was a prince indeed. He slowly grabbed your arm pulling you on the earth, further away from the lake as he looked at the rest of the men that looked like they belonged under his orders. He was ordering them to get you something to clean your... destroyed boots. "And please dont mention it, it's normal to help anyone in distress right ?"

You nodded, forgetting totally to answer the first question. You didn't see the need in doing so. Why would a prince need to know the name of someone who was selling flowers to get by life. Right ? But his gaze never shifted, one brow arching as to ask you to, silently, once again.

"Y/N... I'm sorry sir, I have nothing to offer you, I'm a simple florist... I can't see what any of my possession could bring to your Majesty."

"Fear not my dear. I do not seek for gifts. A smile on this soft face of yours, is already plenty enough to re-pay me." Did all prince talked that way ? What a weirdo you thought. Did he really expect you to swoon like the princesses or other women might do. You let out an awkward chuckle as you slowly slide your arm away for the grasp of Vania.

Deep down, you could sense that the discussion going on right now wasn't right, it was weird. The prince in front of you didn't do anything wrong, no. And here he was kneeling in front of you as he took care of your shoes once a towel was handed to him. Did he thought of you as another potential concubine ? Please, God no. And as soon as you were about to tell him that he needed not clean your shoes that you were much capable of doing so yourself, you could hear a whistle.

No one seemed to notice it, except you. This whistle... You knew where it came from. From a place that wasn't bathing in the sunlight, coming from the muzzle of that dear.. dear wolf. You turned around, searching for him.

As the sunny day turned into piercing winds and low temperatures, like those early dusk and unforgiving pitch-black nights. Was it already that late ? You were standing, facing towards the lake of mud, your eyes searching desperatly for the silhouette of the wolf that you knew was there. You shivered and wrapped your shawl tighter around your shoulders. You needed to go back home, if he manifested his presence to you, he wasn't pleased. You turned around to look at your savior.

"I need to go back home. Thank you once again." You didn't wait for an answer as your legs decided it was time for you to go. And you ran, you needed to go back home. You knew you weren't gonna be safe there, but something inside your mind just yelled at you to go there. For what ? Find an angry wolf ? Why would he be angry for anyway ? Where was he hiding, you could feel his piercing eyes on your back, burnin two holes that didn't help you feel at ease at all. He didn't say a single word, just a simple whistle. This whistle that have heard him do with so many of death's victim. You could picture the glint in his eyes that you knew so well, going from annoyed, to neutral, to hot. This was not good for you in any way. As your mind wandered, you were running, running for your home. When you could see the field of colorful flowers appearing behind the hill, you sighed of relief, your small home resting next to the prettiest lake that might exist. You took the stairs that were leading to your nest. And once you were inside, door closed behind your back... You sighed as you let yourself slid down against the wood. You looked at your boots, taking it off rapidly to throw it to the side. Stupid muddy lake.

But as soon as you stood up, you could sense a freshness settling inside your home. A shiver ran down your spine, feeling your heart rate increase whenever you knew he was inside your home. Inside your safe walls.

"Made a friend back there Chiqui ?" and there he was, his low and raspy voice coming out of the only dark corner of the room. Could he possibly travel thanks to the shadows. You could ask him that someday. But that someday was surely not today, with how the situation was turning. Embarassment settled in your chest, why were you blaming yourself when you did nothing wrong. He just helped you.

"He just helped me... I would hardly call that befriending someone." This must have been a wrong answer considering the low growl that came out of his muzzle. To his own eyes, Death was rarely wrong, moreover was never wrong when he was angry. Which he painfully looked right now?

"Are you implying that I imagined what I saw? That kid on his knees in front of you? With his hand around your arm?" As these words came out of his snout, the wolf’s paws left the shadow in which they comforted. He approached. Dangerously. His lips retracting and that growl coming from the bottom of his throat was a clear indication of his annoyance. "His eyes scanned through you when you were facing backwards, looking for me. I shouldn’t have whistled. I should have come out of the shadows and taken the head of this cheap prince."

Fuck. You made the wrong decision, didn’t you? This is exactly what to do if you want to get murdered. Don’t scream. Don’t get angry. Let him ramble. You looked down, you knew better than look at him right in the eyes when he was angry. It scared you.. Not a lot but a little, probably a natural instinct to fear what was created to end one's life.

Fuck. Miercoles...

But Death wouldn't take you right ? Not because of some misunderstanding. He cared about you. But that behavior awfully looked like a...

Territorial behavior.

It’s just two words, but the implications behind it make your lungs constrict and your heart race. Other adjectives spring up around it, bringing a wave of excitement with them.

Territorial. Possessive. Jealous. You were probably just thinking it right now. Sure Death has been following you around like a shadow those past few weeks. You were awfully suspiscious about that behavior. You even joked about it, but now.. Now he seemed more agressive than usual. And you would be damned but it did aroused you. Well.. Still does.

"Chiqui ?"

He called out, and as you rose your eyes from the floor, the wolf was now in front of you. Did he call for you prior to that ? Wait, he was really close. His eyes were looking right throught you, those white pupils locking into yours. There he was, doing it again.. Reading right through you. And right now ? You were pathetic. Patetically blushing head over heels as you realised your arousal over the wolf in front of you and his display of possessivity.

His muzzle opened, but no voice came out of it. You raise your eyes to look at the wolf ashamed of the feelings curling up inside you right in the moment. And you could have sworn, you saw his eyes darken for a moment. And before you could say anything to defend or ask what was he on about.

"Me vas a volver loco." he breathed in a strained voice as if he was holding himself back. Holding himself from launching onto you.

You will drive me mad, that's what he said. And you murmured back, in that splendid language that was spanish, that he already did that to you. Hearing you speak in your native language always made him stop for a moment. His chest halting as if Death was catching its breath.

“How much do you like this shirt?” he asks, voice lower and more gruff than he probably intended.

“Not much.”

And just like that it shreds with a quick jerk of his claws, and the pieces land somewhere near the corner of the room as he tosses them aside with a careless flick. Some yelp left your mouth, and yet as you should feel afraid.. Embarassed to be half bare in front of him, you didn't try to hide away. You swore that as he looked at you, you saw his throat boped.

You shake your head and laugh softly, trying to ease the tension that was building inside of you as you got shyer and shyer because of his gaze on your body “I feel like some kind of sacrifice in front you like this.”

His blood races, and his muzzle that was above you a few moments ago fell into your neck as his tongue licked that sweet skin of yours. You gasped, but dont try to lean away from the wanted touch. Feeling the teeth brushing on each other side of your throat, when his hands were now roaming over your body hurrying themselves to get you off those layers.

“A worthy offering,” he says, unwrapping that tissu belt and your pants as if you were his most precious treasure. “Any entity would be pleased with such a gift.”

You come to him willingly, eagerly, running your hands over the back of the wolf, nuzzling your fingers inside the white furr. Pressed against his body, the warmth of your body warming up his cold one, as his mouth left your throat to nibble on your ear.

“What about...Hm. A terrible, fearsome monster? Would I make a worthy sacrifice for him, too?”

“That depends on whether you were a willing tribute.” he answered as he stopped himself from nibbling the rest of your body.

“And if I was?”

“If you were, Chiqui…” he says, as his hands slides now on your bear cheeks to carry you towards what was your bed. “Then I would have no choice but to worship you.”

The words are low and rumbling, spoken into the soft skin of your inner thigh as he inches closer and closer to your inner thighs. You gasps again and shifts for him, opens for him, trembling with anticipation. Never you would have thought to see The so feared wolf between your thighs, ready to devour you. And with the first swipe of his tongue over your warm, swollen flesh, you cry out and arches against his hold.

The sight of you struggling to keep your voice to yourself, and those thighs closed is more erotic than anything he ever could have imagined. Wrapped around you soft, plush body, squeezing you tight, keeping you still when you buck and writh with pleasure, it draws on that same dark instinct howling up from the bottom of his soul.

A word keeps repeating in his head, like a mantra as his muzzle devour you, making a wet mess of yourself.

Claim you.

But he was settling for devouring you instead, savoring the offering you bring to him so sweetly.

The taste of you only stokes those instincts higher, stronger, closer to the brink of blissful oblivion. Something he never dared to imagine as he was...Death himself. And you were nothing but a beautiful alive being. Your thighs bracket the sides of his head, pushing against his soft furr and he grunts in approval, tightening his grip on you and sinking his fingertips into the curve of your ass.

You were both lost in the moment, him not caring for the claws of his back paws clawing at the floor and leaving marks in the wood. And you not caring enough to keep your voice down as you were riding, the soft sensation of his tongue and teeth literally eating you out.

Knock knock.

That caught you off-guard. You both stopped, looking at each others. The ears of the white wolf perking at the top of his head. Before you could see a frown appear on his face, a growl pushing its way behind his teeth. Unhappy. Who was-

"Darling are you okay ?"

Wait.. That voice. You were pretty sure you recognize it. It was the prince from earlier. Did he follow you here ? Did hear you ? Wait. Darling ? That nickname was revolting. The face of the wolf raising from between your thighs, as his tongue passes upon his upper lip, a growl settling in the back of his throat. Not a desiring growl, but a threatening one. That was not good, your legs grabbed him in place, crossing behind his neck. Blocking him.

"Chi-"

"I'm quite busy at the moment ! Could you please go away." you ask in a strangled voice as you were slowly coming down from your high state. You didn't really catch what he answered you cause the next moment Death's tongue was back on you. It doesn’t take long until your body is taut and straining again, cries wishing to grow louder and more insistent. Mostly when the wolf between your thighs pushes against that sweet sweet spot. And yet you could hear that SO annoying voice coming from behind the door.

"Desaparece cabron !" You yelled, ash he stroked and eased you through every spasm of your climax, keeping you firmly held on the bed as you were doing for him, coming apart against his tongue.

Stars. You were seeing stars, literally. A laugh rumbling between your thighs, as you looked down at Death sliding his thumb to collect the rest of you on his lip. When you were finally settling down, your thighs were freeing the man you had in a choke hold.

"If I only knew you could curse like that."

"Is he gone..?" You breath out.

"Por favor, don't mention him ever again. He is far. Now it's my time. And I need to know, one important thing."

You looked at him frowning, wondering what could he possibly ask in that moment. You pray, please no more question about if they were friends or not..

“How much of me do you want, Chiqui?”

How much ? You asked yourself that question a while back. You were looking at Death's back as he was walking in front of you in some dark forest, two months ago. The spores of some mushrooms in the environment making your imagination run wild. You wondered if he knew already back then.. You pictured him above you, licking his teeth like he often does when he is about to eat up a meal you prepared. Hungry or impatient... You couldn't say. And you would look down at his inner thigh, cheeks growing hot. Would you like that ?

The answer doesn't come right away, Death wondering if you were unsure. But his eyes wandered, looking at your still moving hips, chasing the pleasure he was more than willing to give you. When he pressed his teeth into you skin in a small reminder, though, you gaze up so lustfully up at him.

And fuck, were you beautiful, once again you could see his chest raise. Your eyes glazed with pleasure, lips parted on a gasp, cheeks flushed.

“All of you,” you whisper. “I want all of you, Death.”

His answering groan echoes in the room. Leaving you breathless, you could almost taste the anticipation and the craving in the air.

“Are you sure?”

Soflty, your hands run through the puff of his cheeks. Your fingers ruffling the white hair. And your look gave the answer, you were looking at him like he ever wanted you to look at him since he first laid his preying eyes on you.

Maybe it’s what he always needed. Someone to be patient with him. Someone to be dedicated to him.

He has now a hand on each of your thighs, holding you open, as he raised from the floor, towering you down, one knee resting now on the bed.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” You breathe. “Yes, I trust you.”

One hand leaves your thigh, catching your chin between his fingers, tipping your head forward. “Look down, Y/N. See what you do to me.”

Between your legs, you could see his cock, hard and pulsing against your damp thigh (wait when did he get rid of his pants), you could feel the red rushing to your cheeks. That was...big. And it didn't look like any human male sex you had ever seen.

Not like you intentionally seen lots of them.

A laugh echoes in the room, while the wolf deciphers the expression you display. His face regaining its previous poise, his mouth opening and laying his fangs around your throat. Slowly, the fingers that had explored your entrance find their place again to continue this work of relaxation. He and you both knew that if you weren’t relaxed enough, this whole thing could be a lot more painful than either of you wanted. You push your head back, resting on the matress within a soft moan.

“That’s it,” The wolf grates out when you bear down and shift open to take him deeper. “Just like that, Chiqui.”

You could feel his voice rumble against your throat as he slides his tongue against you skin once again. Pressing his jaw around you, catching your breath. Enough pressure to cut your breath when you took too deep breaths. As warmth floods through you with his graveled praise. Warmth and trust and painfully sweet tenderness that only ratchets up every other sensation.

The feeling of Death’s fingers breaching you, filling you, diving deep and branding you from the inside out, is like absolutely nothing You’ve ever felt before. Pulsing and alive?, twisting and shifting and fitting itself to the shape of you. And you could feel him grind against your thigh, trying to releave some of that build up tension in between his legs.

“So mesmerizing. Do you think you can take some more?”

He asked as he pulled his teeth away, locking his gaze into yours. You nod, but he brings his free hand up to cup your chin, tilting your head up toward him.

“Let me hear your words.”

“Yes! I want more. Por favor.”

“Ask, and it’s yours,” he rasps, and pushes in another finger that makes you gasp.

Your thighs shake from the impossible, building waves of pleasure and the Wolf tightens his hold on you, spreading you even wider as his three rather larger fingers dives deep and retreats.

His knotted cock bumps up against your inner thigh, and a small pulse of uncertainty moves through you. You had no idea how you were going to take all that. Long, thick, and already weeping from the tip, your core tightens just looking at it.

Death seems to read your hesitation as if you were an open book in front of him, because he leans in to whisper low and dark into your ear.

“I’ll make sure you’re ready for me, Chiqui.”

Inside of you, the fingers he’s impaled you on shifts and twists, growing thicker somehow as he spreads them. The stretch of it boarders on too much, making you squirm and moan and press back against him, but you are not about to ask him to stop. When you tangle your hands into his furr and pull his head forward to claim his mouth, he growls and presses even deeper, fitting himself against the spot he drove you wild with just a few minutes ago.

There, right there, hitting that sensitive spot inside and ripping another scream from you as you climax crests and breaks. He works you through every spasm, drawing the pleasure out until you are half-certain you are going to pass out from it.

"Death-"

Your words cut off at his sharp growl and his tongue crashes past your lips. He’s ravenous as he strokes his tongue deep, hand on your throat, keeping you pinned in place. And when he notches his cock against your entrance, the clawing need to have him inside steals your breath.

Death breaks the kiss and looks down. Expression hungry, an animalistic growl, he watches himself nudge against you once, twice, before sliding the blunted tip inside.

Just that—just the smallest part of him—is already enough to make you feel stretched and full. His shuddering breath breaks against your shoulder as he drives his hips forward another inch, then another, until you are meeting him thrust for gentle thrust, groaning at the impossible feel of him sliding deeper.

“Dios,” he says. “Déjame tomarme mi tiempo contigo. Me estás absorbiendo.”

You hear him, but with each inch gained you are getting more impatient. Letting out a small moan of protest, you shift your hips, straining to take more of him, and his answering growl rumbles all the way through you.

“Greedy. So greedy, my Y/N. Shall I be merciful and give you what you want?”

“Please,” You gasp. "Por favor, deja-"

You don’t get to finish begging.

With a powerful upward thrust, he fills you up entirely and wrenches a ragged scream from the back of your throat. He’s there, bottomed out, sunk to the hilt in you. You are stretched so full that for a few long moments all you can do is drop your head back against the bed and close your eyes, trying to adjust to the feel of him.

“Bellissima,” he murmurs, rolling his hips in a way that makes another moan rasp from your throat. “Look at you taking me so well, my mate.”

Mate. You knew that was a language used between wolves. Inside a pack... A mate is a partner. A partner for life. You knew thanks to that , that Death is mindless at this point, too far gone into the magic being woven between the two of you to think about what he’s saying.

When you look down and see yourself stretched around him, feel the insistent pulse of him inside of you and the light press of his teeth against your neck, searching a way for the back of it, there’s no part of you that shies away from that word.

My mate.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough. Reaching up to wrap an arm around his neck for leverage, you grind into his thrusts and move restlessly against him, begging for more. More pleasure. More touch. More of the wild, incredible feel of him.

You must moan at least some of it out loud, because he growls low in his throat. “You need more from me, Chiqui?”

“Yes! Please.”

When he pulls out of you, you cry out sharply in protest. It’s only a couple of seconds, though, before he’s got you turned around and pushed up against the cotton of the sheets,his teeth finds the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your body, his hand pressing you into the bed, as he slams back into you.

It’s more intense than before, heavier, deeper. You don't know if that was the bite at the back of your neck that was driving you to madness, or the feeling of his knot pushing inside you. Stretching you to the maximum, making you scream his name. It was burning you up from the inside out until it breaks with a ferocity that blanks your vision out for a few long, ecstatic moments.

He comes just after you do, driving deep and exploding in you, locked by his knot, with a wash of heat that makes your belly flutter and your body go lax under his.

You obviously had a hard time coming down from that feeling you just had. But so did he. The erastic breathing that you could feel against your neck as the fangs did not let go, brought you little by little back to the world of the living. Soon you could hear the movement whipping the air from the wolf’s tail. Then the bed began to crack. Death let go of your neck, the moment the creak reach his ears, he was leaning to hard on the bed, and was about to break it.

Slowly, you could feel his weight lifting up from you, and his tongue running on the mark and the droplets of blood he left behind. A soft sigh left your lips as you could feel the knot of the male above you softening and he could finally pull out.

And as slowly, he reaches down to take your numb body against him, his nose nuzzling against your jaw just under your ear his a soft hum.

"You smell like me."

A small laugh escpaed your lips. You surely didn't expect that to come out first. You were relaxed in his arms, completely sated, andhe couldn't help but internally purr in pleasure to see you so undone. And a smile even peeked out at the sound of your laugh.

His mate. Satisfied. Happy. Utterly fucked-out and his.

"You reeked of the kid earlier. I thought I was going to lose my mind." he growled against your ear, flattening his ears back at the thought surely bothering him again.

"Feels like you did."

Despite your laugh, the wolf growls at the mockery. "It is not a mistake, Chiqui. You are mine. And now... Everybody will know that Death itself maked you."

Oh... And here you go blushing again, and it was his turn to laugh.

[princesschimchim1325]

can you do more love x muerte? angst to fluff maybe?

Of course anon! I love me some angst to fluff. I switch between Death and Muerte to avoid confusion.

Embracing Death

Death comes for everyone, no matter who they are or what they do, their life will come to an end. Death will come knocking at their door and collect them, whether they like it or not.

And it was true, Muerte did not discriminate who he takes. Rich or poor, human or animal, he collects their souls to the afterlife. He is the grim reaper, a force of nature who is neither good or evil. Muerte enjoyed what he does, especially when he collects the souls of sinners.

But he has seen tragedies too. Many times he has collected souls of the innocent, souls whose lives ended before their respective times. Muerte doesn't think of himself as soft, but taking the souls of children, young animals and creatures, it weighed heavily on him. He can't interfere with the living too much, otherwise he wouldn't be Death.

And Love noticed. She always did.

Normally, Muerte returned home with a satisfied smirk on his face. Pleased with himself for taking a soul who didn't value and appreciate their life.

But tonight she noticed his broad shoulders slumping with his head hung low, his expression blank. However, his crimson eyes showed his turmoil. He took off his hooded cloak and placed his sickles on the bedside table before sitting down on the bed, his ears flat against his head.

He was hunched over, his forearms resting on top of his thighs. He didn't even look up when she approached him, slowly moving to sit beside him, leaning her head on his arm.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, silence covering the room.

Muerte sighed deeply, "Lo siento mi amor. Ha sido un largo día."

She hummed in response, caressing his bicep.

"No need for apologies, moy dorogoy. What got you so down tonight?" She didn't want her beloved to keep all his negative feelings inside, otherwise it will leave him in a much more foul mood.

"....I had to collect four young souls today, mi amor. They were siblings, abandoned by their own parents." Muerte scoffed at that, those two don't deserve to be called parents for what they have done. So many people who want to have children but cannot, and yet those pedazo de mierda have the audacity to not value the lives of their own flesh and blood.

It makes his blood boil.

"That's terrible, they're terrible and I know you despise people like them, moya lyubov'. But think of it this way; the children are free from them and you brought them in a better place." She tried reasoning with him.

He stayed silent.

All she can do is stay by his side, until he feels better.

This wasn't the first time this happened and most definitely would not be the last. They don't need to talk, all they need was to be close together. Sometimes, Death needs a warm embrace, and Love happily gives it to him.

•°•°•°•

If yall want more, just send requests! Or if yall just want to thirst and simp over Death, just send an ask👀

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Can you make a part 2 of your death x reader??? I loved it so much and I would love to read more💘💘

I enjoyed writing for him, so I will continue this! See this as their little 'date'! I made this one oddly sad, but hope you still like it!

Part 1 | Part 2

-

An Altercation with Death Part 2

He was late. Incredibly late.

You were not surprised though: your hopes and expectations of seeing him were dwindling. Finishing work for the rest of the afternoon was a struggle when you just had him on your mind, but also on what you had just done.

Was I being too forward? Was he just being polite?

You finished up work in the early evening, walking away from the vibrant town, up the cobbled slopes towards your secluded home. It was quaint, yet sometimes lonely.

You sighed in the cooling air, hugging yourself with your cardigan as the only source of warmth. “Of course, I overstepped, like always.”

“Buenas noches, corderito.”

You looked up, eyes darting over to the dead, wilting tree, a shadow emerging from its rotting bark, tall and imposing, the wolf appeared with red eyes gleaming.

“Lobo,” You breathed a sigh of relief, certain your heartbeat could be heard, erratically beating. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Apologies for startling you,” he lowered his hood, his pointed ears spoking upwards, grey smoke fur standing out in the contrast of the moonlight. “I have been quite busy.”

“I can tell.” You murmured, and the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks; the height difference! You barely came up to his hip, and he stood imposing and towering.

It had come to you to realise you had been caught staring at him, noticing the way he stalked closer and closer towards you, gauging how you would react or even at all when you were caught in a daydream once again. Dios mío, think, Y/N! Think!

You coughed awkwardly, trying to find the right words and to not feel so uneasy. “So, what do you want to do?”

There was amusement and intrigue mixed in his crimson gaze. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re both free all evening… would you like to go and do something?”

“How about going for a meal?”

Your expression lit up, it was an indication to him that this was a great idea. “Of course! Ooh, I’ve heard of this really good tapas and patatas bravas.”

Something in his eyes lit up too; was it fascination, interest? It was uncertain. The wolf, close enough, knelt to be eye level with you, his long snout gracing your ear as he whispered lowly. “Wherever you, go, I’ll follow, chica.”

You could’ve mistaken your face had betray you: the way he whispered so huskily in your ear, the warmth of his face so close to yours, the pure power that was raw and radiating off of him. He could’ve easily pinned you down to the ground and ravaged you whole, and something about that both ignited the flight or fight mode within you.

“Okay!” You side-stepped closely away from him before he could sense your bashfulness. It was amusing for Lobo, watching you stumble away from him as he sauntered behind you.

He followed not far behind you as you led the way, back down towards town as life filled the streets in the late evening. All walks of life were situated everywhere: music filled the streets, food and smells of all flavours filled your nostrils. It gave you the best idea for everything: how would Muerte think if you got him a sweet treat?

You found the small restaurant, surprised when the waiter asked if it had been a table for one, when you looked back over behind you. “Oh no, it’s me and—” You were expecting the wolf’s looming figure to stand behind you, instead, met with the open, cooling air. “Ah, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Of course, señorita.”

The waiter directed you to a small table in the corner, forgotten and left for all to ignore, as the waiter ran off to grab two menus, you felt a warm, familiar hand press into your waist, something fuzzy and soft brush up against your side. “This is a nice table.”

“Lobo! Where did you run off to?” You scolded lightly, the two of you sitting as the waiter returned, taking your orders. It was odd: how the waiter didn’t even regsiter Muerte sitting there opposite you. Where you losing your mind? How could anyone not spot him there?

“I swear I seem strange to others.”

Muerte was sipping his drink when he met your gaze, “How so?”

“Well, that waiter looked at me like I was having a meal with an imaginary friend.” You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. “I mean, it’s not hard to notice you. I thought it would’ve been the opposite way round.”

“Well, it’s hard not to miss a corderito like you.” He said, but there was a indiference to his words. It was as if he was never bothered by being unnoticed. How could someone like him want to be ignored? You thought, observing him.

“Do you come out often?”

“Many times, actually,” he chewed at his meal. “Though never once have I been invited on a date before.” He grinned when he said that one word, and your heart nearly collasped in your chest.

“Date—where did you-”

“You said to that cabra idiota yourself, you were seeing someone, hmm?”

You buried your face in your hands, trying your best not to scream in embarassment. If the earth could swallow you whole, it would’ve done so by now, but no, you were faced with the teasing of a wolf who enjoyed it clearly.

Would you have called it date? Or was he just teasing? “I—It was never discussed, I just thought-”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to go for one?” He smirked.

“Yes! I mean no! Ah, you’re making this difficult for me.” Your fur felt hot on your face, and when you heard the light, easy-going chuckle come from in front of you, you couldn’t help but think he was just doing it to annoy you.

“Ah you’re really cute when you get flustered.” He sighed, continuing on as if he hadn’t put that compliment out there in the open. He finished his meal and you gave the rest of yours for him to finish (it was hard to when you remained flustered for the rest of your ‘date’).

The two of you paid and left with few words spoken, except your mind was whirred and spinning with all sorts of questions. The less you spoke and the minutes ticked by, the more you panicked.

“Hey, I’m sorry for making it this-“ You turned on your heel as you kept walking, clumsily your foot got caught on a broken cobble piece, stumbling forwards so quickly, you didn’t have any time to register that your body was falling too fast.

The ground was what you expected to meet, and when you braced for the hard earth, you didn’t expect to be enveloped in the warm and soft arms. A smell of cedar and pine surrounded you gently, arms catching you with ease.

“Falling for me, huh, corderito?”

You blinked, warmth spreading through you, heart racing in the cage of your chest. No way did you catch you. It was only until it dawned on you that your feet weren’t touching the ground, you found yourself eye to eye level with Muerte.

“Ah,” you looked away from him, trying not to look directly in his teasing gaze, his bloodshot eyes were vivid and glowing, “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

Muerte didn’t seem bothered by the clumsiness that came from you, rather there was amusement in the way he held you. “Careful now, you may fall into the arms of the wrong guy.”

“Why, you worried I’ll jump into some bad guy’s arms?” You were the one to inquire teasingingly. Muerte met your gaze, and that alone had made you shudder. He didn’t need to lean that far into your face, inches from you. “Puede atraer a las personas equivocadas.”

It took everything in your body not to surge forward and kiss him: the way he was so close and inviting. The silence could’ve been broken with a pin dropping, neither of you speaking yet only staring for some time. With some relcutance, he settled you back down, and you almost realised how badly you missed the way he held you.

“Come now, let’s get you back home.”

-

The walk back up the hill was silent yet not as awkward as you thought it would be. The air was filled with the growing sounds of music, growing quieter the further you left the town. When you looked across the town, it was tiny in comparison to how it felt being surrounded down there; you felt like a giant, looking over tiny ants.

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” You asked Lobo after some time.

“It is, but wouldn’t you grow restless after some time up here, alone?” His voice dragged the last word out. It was like a hush or murmur of the wind, starlting and haunting, yet his presence alone made you feel surprisingly safe.

“I’ve been up here for quite some time. And though, I’m jealous of my friends who live directly there, I don’t think I could ever be down there, all the time.” You laughed to yourself, hugging your smaller body.

Lobo hummed in thought, moving ahead as if he knew the way back to yours. “It is something I would rather agree on.”

Neither of you said anything again as he led, but you had time to think about what he said. Was he lonely? How could he be—it wasn’t as if you knew what his personal life was before the two of you met, but it was a curisity you held the more you were with him.

“Do you ever get lonely?”

He paused in movement, and you observed the way his long ear twitched, unaffected by the chill of the night. “Sometimes,” he drawled thoughtfully. “I think I’ve grown used to being ignored, only for a time.”

“How so?”

“I wander these lands, watching. It is rather what I would say my job is in this world, and I’ve been doing it for some time. I watch, observe those, watch them live their lives; get married, have kin, have their highs and lows in life, and when it begins to draw to an end, I come in, give them a hand and we move on.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “Though, I do get a thrill in those who don’t spend their life well. It’s quite fun to get a change once in a while.”

“Lobo,” you spoke carefully. “When you said your name was Muerte, you weren’t joking-“

“I am Death, yes.” He spoke coolly, the flickering of his cape came up for a moment, and something silver glinted on the side of his thigh, disappearing before you could even register what it was. “I come and go when it’s time for being to move on, and I’ll do the same with you.”

You felt rigid in your spot, looking up at him in both horror and twisted curiousity. “Do you know when my time will come? It’s… not tonight, is it?”

“No,” his was a odd sense of reassurance, “You will live a good, long life, I know that.” He knelt down to you, approaching you as if you were an injured animal. “I have enjoyed this one night of a break, and I enjoyed it with you.” He was kind and careful to press a chaste kiss to your forehead, standing back to his full height once more. “We will meet again, sometime, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You didn’t understand his words at first, too hopeful, too joyful to see him, and when you blinked he was gone once more.

No, it wasn’t a hopeful expectation you would see him soon, it was a see you again when your time comes.

[oldgirl-shoutinginthevoid]

More questionable sketches about Death x Reader

The second one is something i imagine happening in the future of Limbo JASDASDAS and is based on this comic of beastars

[dervampireprince]

ASMR | Puss in Boots - Death x Listener SFW A (Literal) Date With Death

[M4A] [First date] [Flirting] [Kisses] [Romantic]

So... he's a little late for his date... you asked him out back in um... April... But he's here now!

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Custom audio commissions are open! Full public spicy audios on sound gasm (link in pinned post). 2 Exclusive spicy audios on Patreon every month. I also stream on Twitch every week @ dervampireprince . [minors + ageless blogs dni. this blog is for 18+ only.] [do not repost/reupload/edit any of my content]