Thanacon's Closet

Day 6 - James Sunderland (Intertwined) 💀

Day 7 - Pyramid Head (Judgement) 💀

Day 8 - Eyeless Jack (Marking) ⛓️

Day 9 - Maria (Sewn Together) 💀

Day 10 - Minotaur (Neighbors) 🌸

Day 11 - Jimmy (The color of lead)💀

Day 12 - Gabriel Reyes (Medicine) 💀

Day 13 - Bill Williamson (Touch Starved) 🌸

Day 14

Day 15

Day 16

Day 17

Day 18

Day 19

Day 20

Day 21

Day 22

Day 23

Day 24

Day 25

Day 26

Day 27

Day 28

Day 29

Day 30

Bill gasped for air, coughing as the weight of the dead man collapsed onto him. As soon as his airway opened up again, he shoved the corpse away forcefully, crawling backwards until he hit the far wall.

Glaring at the body lying in front of him, Bill rubbed at his bruised neck, wincing slightly at the pain caused by the throttling. He swallowed hard, still catching his breath, eyes bloodshot as adrenaline surged through him.

"Bill?" a voice called out in a hushed shout.

As Bill turned to look towards the source of the voice, his vision swaming, the room spinning slightly. It took a moment for his gaze to land on you crouching near the door, scanning the room with your revolver raised.

The relief washing over him upon seeing your familiar form sent his shoulders sagging, dropping the tension inside him just a fraction.

"He was…the only one here," Bill managed to croak out, massaging his tender throat.

"You took too long exploring the cabin so I came. Thank God I did," you say, standing to approach Bill while holstering your weapon. Offering a steadying hand, you helped him rise up from the floor onto a nearby chair with care.

Taking a deep breath, Bill let himself relax further as the blood flowed freely to his head, the dizziness beginning to dissipate.

Before Bill could say thanks, he suddenly felt your hand gently cradle his chin. He stiffened instinctively, eyes widening a touch as you guided his head upward with gentle pressure from your thumb.

The warmth of your skin pressed against his jaw sent a strange sensation coursing through him.

Eyes lowered bashfully, Bill couldn't help but feel his own cheeks growing warm under your gaze; unable to bring himself to meet your intense stare directly, opting instead to fixate on a spot somewhere along your shoulder.

"He really got you good," you muttered as you examined his raw skin.

"Uh…" he began nervously, clearing his throat quietly as he shifted his posture slightly, closing then unclosing his legs unconsciously, fingers tapping anxiously against his leg.

"I should've known something was off sooner," you whisper, your hand now cupping his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"It isn't…It isn't your fault," Bill stammered softly, shaking his head slightly in protest. 

You retracted your hand slowly, leaving behind a lingering warmth where your palm had been resting. "We should get going. Dutch'll probably have a fit if we come back empty handed and late," you sigh.

Forcing back a whimper, Bill did his best to keep his disappointment hidden. "Yeah…yeah, you're right," he agreed, swallowing hard as he pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. "Let's go." He added firmly, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest.

The ride back to camp passed in silence, only the sound of clomping hooves against the dirt road and the distant birdsong echoing through the trees.

You wave to Lenny as you enter camp, guiding your horse to the makeshift posts with Bill following behind. Bill opens his mouth to say something...anything, but his mouth dries up. He watches as you hop off your horse and tie it securely. With his head slightly down, he does the same. Before he could head off and drink himself to death, your hand grabs his arm to stop him.

"You need to rest," you said softly, pulling him gently by the arm towards his bedroll setup.

"Nah, I'm fine," he protested weakly, "Just wanna…get a drink…"

Despite his words, Bill makes no effort to pull his arm away from you.

"Please…" you insisted, tugging him along. "At least let me put some ointment on those bruises."

At the mention of your hands on him again, Bill felt a phantom hand pressing against his face, engulfing his head in warmth. He wanted to feel the way he did at the cabin again. He wanted to be touched...by you.

"Alright, alright. Fine."

Granted, he didn't like Moira either, but something about you really irked him to no end. Your constant flirting, teasing, and downright sadistic tendencies made you insufferable to be around. But there was one single thing that truly made you unbearable, maybe even more than the pain he felt now.

You couldn't be intimidated.

Any attempts to threaten you would be met with a blank look, a curled smile, or downright laughter, and Gabriel could attest to that himself. Not even Akande could get you to sweat. So getting any help from you would be a hassle. But as Gabriel felt wave after wave of flesh-rending pain course through his body, he decided that dealing with you was better than spending the night like this.

Hobbling through the halls, Gabriel made his way to the infirmary wing, clinging to the walls for support as his body threatened to fall over. It was late so there wasn't many agents roaming the corridors, and if any were around, Gabriel stopped to hide, unwilling to let anyone see him in this state. He knew that any perceived weakness would make him look pathetic, and he couldn't allow that to happen.

As two Talon grunts walked past, Gabriel pushed himself off the wall with a grunt as he made a dash for the infirmary doors. He pressed entry codes into the interface roughly and nearly tripped on himself as he pushed in immediately once the door opened. His relief was short-lived as he saw a Talon grunt sitting on the exam table with you beside him, stitching some wound shut.

The growl that left his throat was very loud, probably louder than he intended. Storming forwards, he slams his clenched fist onto the table, shaking it violently.

"Get out. Now."

To their credit, the grunt immediately stood up, not wanting an early death at the hands of Talon's scariest agent. But before they could take a single step, a hand gripped their shoulder and yanked them back onto the table. Their head instantly snapped to look at you, and despite wearing a helmet, you can tell what they were saying;

Are you trying to get me killed?

"Even he...must wait his turn," was all that left your mouth, calm and stern.

And with that, you grabbed the needle that hung from his injury and continued to suture it shut, your eyes never leaving theirs. But the grunt felt another pair of eyes on him.

Reaper's.

They burned into their skull, melting their brains as you pulled the thread taut. They didn't dare look back, choosing to look at their injury, mentally counting the seconds before they could get the hell out.

With the final stitch, tie, and cut, the poor thing jumped to their feet and ran out the door as quick as an assassin unit.

Gabriel then turned his burning gaze to you, watching as you put the suture kit away...slowly.

Reaching out, he slaps the kit out of your hands the clattering echoing through the room as he then gripped your wrist.

"Give me the fucking pain meds."

You didn't even flinch.

Snatching your hand away from him, you gesture to the exam table. You turn to walk over to one of the cabinets and open it as he takes a seat. Your eyes scan the labels as you go through bottles and vials, trying to remember what your fellow coworker uses to deal with Reaper's situation.

"Morphine....codeine...prozac," you mutter to yourself, taking note of that last one for later use. A creaking groan broke the silence, making you glance over to your patient. Gabriel had bent the metal of the table beneath his hand, no doubt from the pain. You hum, turning to open another cabinet, certain that you've seen the medication before.

The sound of clinking bottles are accompanied by Gabriel's heavy and strained breathing, but it does little to hurry your hand. After a few more seconds of looking, you find it.

"Adenosine," you read out, grabbing a clean syringe on your way back to the writhing man

Gabriel watches as you plunge the needle into the vial, drawing up some liquid before flicking the syringe. His hand grips the table again as a wave of burning hot pain rolls through his head.

Barely registering your footsteps, Gabriel tenses as he feels your hands on him.

"Lie back for me, darling."

You push him onto the table, hand burning into his chest as he resists the urge to smack it away. Leaning closer, you hold the syringe over his jugular for a few seconds before jabbing it in. And before he could stop it, a whimper leaves his mouth. Whether or not you heard he isn't sure.

For a few seconds, nothing happens.

And then it hits.

Gabriel feels as if a giant stone is rolled over his body, starting at his chest. It crushes his lungs as his body runs colder than before. The pain starts to become heightened, nearly mind-breaking. The only thing he can manage to do is let out a couple of choked gasps. The pain reaches a peak, and for a second, Gabriel truly believes he's going to die.

And then it's over.

It takes a moment for his body to regain its senses, and the first one that comes back is the feeling of being touched. Your hand rubs his forehead as you look down at him, your face an expression he doesn't care to read. As he settles, he notices the lack of pain anywhere. Letting out a deep exhale, he tries to sit up, only to be pushed down by your palm.

"I can see why Moira likes sticking things in you," you coo, your hand wandering lower. "You make such funny faces."

Before your hand could go lower than his stomach, he finally regains the strength needed to smack it away.

"Don't fucking touch me."

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean closer, your mouth hovering over his ear. "You should come to me more often."

He quickly rises up from the table, pushing you away as he stomps out of the infirmary. You scoff, shifting your attention to the mess he left before grabbing a nearby broom.

"Prude."

Despite the pain being gone, unease lingered in his bones. And as Gabriel made his way to his living quarters, he couldn't help but think about you.

Scumtober 2024 Masterlist

Your hand trembles as you bring it to your face, nails digging into your skin.

"She has no reason to lie," you whispered shakily.

You lurch forwards, feeling burning in your chest as nausea hits you like an asteroid. "Anya..." you groan, your free hand gripping your shirt to pull it away from your chest as you feel it tightening. "I'm so fucking sorry... I should've protected you."

Raking your hand across your face, you focus on the pain as apologies continue to spill from your lips. It's what's stopping you from tearing apart at the seams. You want to make him hurt, to make him feel what you feel right now.

But it didn't matter.

Not anymore.

Your mouth waters as you try to calm your breathing and stop yourself from puking, but it barely helps. Your steady breathing quickly deteriorates to quick and shallow ones as every place he's touched you begins to burn.

Those kisses you remembered so fondly open up like wounds, festering with an itch that makes you wanna scratch your skin bloody. A sob tears through your throat before you compose yourself. You wipe at your face as you turn to Jimmy, expecting him to finally speak.

But he doesn't.

He couldn't.

Not with that hole in his forehead.

You lean your head against his shoulder, staring at the handgun you dropped earlier. Even if you wanted to, you only had the one bullet.

It wouldn't be long before the others come to investigate the gunshot. You didn't really know how they'd react, but you're certain Curly would forgive you...eventually. He was just like you, a big fucking pushover. At least with Jimmy gone he'd listen to you.

You feel as Jimmy finally falls over, his cold body lying limply on the colder floor. You reach out to touch him only to stop a few inches away. Retracting your hand, you let your head fall back against the wall. As you stare at the ceiling, numb to the sound of footsteps, you let out a long sigh.

"What do I do now?"

You sigh heavily, leaning on the shovel handle. As you stare down at the chopped dirt beneath you, you realize digging a grave here is nearly impossible right now.  It was winter after all, the ground was frozen solid.

Your gaze shifts towards the window where you spot Dura happily chowing down on a bowl of ice cream. Not exactly a nutritious choice, but she did cry a lot after finding Hammy stiff in his cage earlier today… It wasn't until you promised her a whole gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream from the store that she finally stopped the water works.

You let out a deep growl of frustration and plunge the shovel blade directly into the frozen soil with all your might. Angrily, you rip it free and stab it back into the ground once more.

Frustration bubbles within you as you think about having to explain death to a ten-year-old orcling. Though, you shouldn't have been surprised, considering how fragile hamsters are. To be honest, you kinda expected her to squish the damn thing some day. But here you are now, dealing with this mess.

You grit your teeth, continuing to stab at the ground with the shovel.

A sudden, low laugh draws your attention upward to see a tall figure looming over the wooden fence that separates the Ulgans' yard from the next door neighbors'.

Donovan.

The minotaur leans casually on the top of the fence, watching you curiously with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Calm down killer," He says teasingly. "Does the backyard owe you money or something?" His deep laughter echoes through the otherwise silent street.

Wiping the sweat off your brow with your arm, you glare up at him. "Shove it asshole," you sneer.

Of course he would find this funny.

"Alright alright," Donovan replies with another chuckle. He watches you dig for a moment longer before starting to speak again.

"So uh… How's business treating ya? Still likin' your job?"

"Ehh," you say, letting out a loud exhale. "Been better. The little one's pet died."

"Shit," he mutters sympathetically as he watches you struggle to make any dent into the frozen soil.

With a roll of his eyes, he grips the top of the fence and in one swift motion, he vaults over it, landing with a thud onto the ground.

"Here, gimme that," he offers, reaching for the shovel. His hand wraps around its base and easily rips it from your grip.

"H-Hey, dickhead! I could've done it myself!" You snap at him, smacking his muscular back as he starts to dig up some dirt with ease.

"Hey!" he exclaims, spinning around to face you with a raised eyebrow. "What was that for?"

"For being made out of hamburger," you retort sarcastically as you stretch your arm toward the shovel in his hand.

"Made outta hamburger?" He repeats, raising an eyebrow at you as he hoists the shovel high above your head. "And just what kind of burger would that be, huh?" He asks teasingly, his snout curling into a shiteating grin.

"A big stupid one," you retort, jumping upwards slightly in an attempt to grab the damn thing from him.

He chuckles as he watches you jump like an angry honeybadger.

You give him a annoyed expression. "Dude, come on," you complain, gazing up at him as he holds the shovel out of your reach.

"Let me do this for you," he insists as he leans down towards you, all traces of humor gone from his voice. 

He looks serious, like he truly wants to help you bury some orcling's dead hamster.

"Fine," you say with a heavy sigh, stepping back and gesturing towards the hole he started.

"Go ahead then."

He gives you a warm smile before getting to work. His strong arms swing the shovel effortlessly into the ground as his tail wags happily.

As he digs, you finally take note of his fit. White T-shirt and grey sweats. Classic lazy bum style.

It looks good though.

...

Very good.

...

You wouldn't mind taking a bite outta him.

Wait, how far is he digging?

You lean over to get a closer look at the hole.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's enough!" You call out, rushing forward to tap his strong shoulder. Your hand comes to rest gently on his firm muscles. 

Looking down at you with wide eyes, he stops digging immediately before glancing at the hole.

It was at least ten feet deep.

After a brief pause, Donovan returns your gaze with a sheepish smile before shrugging. 

With a huff, you glance over at the house again to check for any sign of Dura. She doesn't seem to be in the kitchen anymore. The small orcling probably left to watch TV in the living room.

With the coast clear, you nonchalantly nudge the small corpse into the gaping hole with your foot and watch as it tumbles down into darkness below.

"Alright," you say with a nod. "Fill it."

He flashes you a quick salute before refilling the freshly dug hole. In minutes, there's nothing left but a patch of disturbed dirt to show that anything ever happened here at all.

You clap your hands and close your eyes.

"Here lies Hammy, who lived a wonderful..."

You peek at your fingers to count.

"Two years."

After your mini eulogy, you open your eyes and peer over at Donovan.

"Okay, you can leave now," you command, jabbing a finger towards the fence line. 

He claps his hands together and presses them under his maw, batting his eyelashes dramatically. 

"Don't I get a reward for helping?" He asks coyly, giving you a smile that makes you wanna bite him.

You can't afford to argue with him when Mom and Pop can come back at any moment.

Rolling your eyes, you slowly walk over to him, stopping to stand on your tiptoes directly beside him. Leaning in close, you press your lips firmly against his furry cheek.

Donovan stands there dazed for a moment before scratching his chin

"I was actually thinking you could make me some mac and cheese or someth-"

Before he can finish his sentence, you get a tight hold of his horns before shaking his head back and forth.

Your hands run over your chest, the scars are still there, and they always will be.

After a few minutes of introspection, the silence is broken by muffled voices outside the room, probably at the end of the hallway.

At first, you weren't sure if it was just another hallucination or not.

But as you listen closer, straining your ears against the thick steel door, you realize it wasn't.

People are talking.

You leap to your feet and rush towards the metal door, pounding on it frantically. "Hey! Is anyone there?! Let me out!!!"

Within seconds, you hear hurried footsteps rushing towards the door, followed by the metallic click of keys jangling around in someone's hands. You take a step back as you hear the key clank around in the keyhole before it clicks in place.

As soon as the door opens, you immediately recognize the figure standing in the doorway.

"James?" you breathe out a sigh of relief, eyes starting to prick with tears.

His expression mirrors yours as they change from confusion and then to surprise.

Your legs shake as you practically collapse into his open arms, letting out a small whimper against his chest as you try to steady yourself.

Despite his initial shock, James catches you easily, wrapping his arms around your back. He doesn't really know what to do, so he settles for patting you gently.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he gently pushes you back, holding you at arm's length as he scans your face with concern etched across every inch of his features. He looks like he's trying to figure out if you're a hallucination or not.

"(Y/N), what are you doing here?" he asks, sounding confused.

You tell him everything that happened from the last time you spoke to each other before splitting ways, you went into the town to look for your own answers and ended up encountering the creature with the pyramid head.

James tenses at the mention of 'pyramid head', a strange look crossing his face briefly before disappearing just as quickly.

"You shouldn't wander off alone," he says quietly. "This place isn't safe...for anyone."

You sheepishly nod in agreement, rubbing your sore wrist where the monster had grabbed you earlier. "I didn't want to slow you down," you mumble, staring at the ground.

"Hasn't stopped me."

The sudden voice from behind James startled you, causing you to step back abruptly from him. You must have been way too busy talking to have noticed her. You peek over James' shoulder, taking a look at the lady. She notices and gives you a smile before raising her arms with a shake that says, "yes, I'm real".

Short blond hair, blue eyes, and an outfit that seemed a bit underclothed for the cold air of the town.

She looked familiar...

"This is my wife... Her name is Mary. Have you seen her?" You look over the photo, raking your thoughts, but he's the only person you've met so far here.

"No I haven't...sorry"

You blink in surprise before looking back at James, who seemed unfazed by the woman.

"Oh, uh...her name is Maria," he introduces her politely, gesturing towards her.

"Maria?" you repeat her name softly, testing it out on your tongue.

"That's right," she confirms, grinning at you. Her smile seemed genuine, but there was something oddly unsettling about it that you couldn't quite place.

Maybe this town was just getting to you.

"And you are?" Maria asks, raising an eyebrow curiously at you.

"(Y/N)… (Y/N) (L/N)," you reply automatically, saying your full name aloud for the first time in ages. It sounded strange coming from your mouth, unfamiliar somehow.

Like it didn't belong to you.

She grins wider at you. "Well, nice to meet you."

Maria extends her hand for a handshake, smirking slightly as she watches you contemplate whether or not to accept it.

Are handshakes appropriate in a hellhole like this?

Finally, you relent and grasp her hand firmly in yours, shaking it once before dropping it back to your side. She chuckles lightly under her breath. 

James glances between you and the padded room that you were trapped in for God knows how long before pinning you with a serious gaze. 

"You're coming with us," he says firmly, his tone lowering slightly as he tries to project confidence that he doesn't truly feel inside. It comes off as more awkward than intimidating, but he was trying his best.

You open your mouth to protest, trying to come up with some sort of excuse why you shouldn't tag along, but ultimately failing as you close it back shut with a huff.

"Fine…" you mutter begrudgingly, folding your arms defensively over your chest.

He smiles faintly at you before gesturing for you to follow after him and Maria. "Good."

"How do I Look?"

Jack tilts his head slightly, eyes focused on your naked form as you lay on the bed. A low chuckle rumbled through him as he reached up to adjust the mask over his nose and mouth. "Like a deer…" he murmured, leaning forward.

His fingers trailed along your collarbone, tracing a line to your chest and then dipping lower. It was an soft touch, loving even.

But there was nothing innocent about the hunger burning within those empty sockets. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, feel the rise and fall of your chest against his palm. "Do you have any idea…what I want to do to you?"

"What are you gonna do?" you ask, sighing softly as you run your hands along the sides of your stomach.

"Turn you into roadkill."

The tip of his index finger brushed against your cock and felt it twitch in response to his touch. It was already starting to harden, growing thicker and longer as he grasped it in his hand. He hummed, giving it another gentle squeeze before letting go entirely.

He leaned in closer to your stomach, nose pressing against your skin as he took a deep breath in. The scent of sweat and soap filled his nostrils, making his mouth water just slightly. His tongue flicked out to taste the saltiness coating your flesh like a marinade.

You could feel his hand slide into yours, freezing fingers intertwining with yours as they rested above your hip. Your free hand roamed further down, sliding across the soft pudge of your stomach before coming to rest just below your navel.

Jack leaned in closer, lips parting ever so slightly as they pressed against your abdomen. He bit down, teeth sinking into your skin as he sucked at the flesh.

You couldn't help but cry out at the piercing pain, the sensation sending waves of heat through your body like being run over by a truck. You could feel your cock throbbing against your belly, staining it with precum.

"Fuck…" You gasped, voice ragged as you fought to keep control of yourself. But even as you did so, you could feel yourself losing reason.

It wasn't long before you found yourself bucking your hips upward, thrusting your leaky cock into the air. Every now and then, you would glance down to watch him suck at your stomach, hearing his soft moans as he drinks up your blood.

Your cock twitches at the thought of him tearing a chunk out of you and swallowing. You'd probably scream and cry, flailing around like a fish out of water. You can imagine yourself cumming at the sight of him chewing your meat alone.

He's working you up to it though, slowly.

Jack pulls away, leaving a swollen gash in your skin where his teeth had been. Before you could speak, he was already moving onto the next spot.

Another bite, this one deeper than the last.

Your hand tightened around his as you tried to breathe through the pain. It hurt, but goddamn did it feel good. Like getting punched in the gut or twisted up in hot barbed wire. It was rough and gritty and fucking intense.

And fuck if you didn't love every second of it.

Screaming, you duck down and hear a loud whoosh as the blade cuts through the air above your head. Your ears ring from the force of the blade slamming against the lamppost beside you. The post creaks under the pressure before breaking apart.

You take the moment to make some distance, your heart skipping a beat as you realize how close death was to claiming you.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Your voice cracks as you shout at the top of your lungs. Fear courses through your veins like electricity, making each breath feel like daggers slicing through your throat. Your heart races faster than it ever did before. Every beat feels like a explosion in your eardrums. Sweat drips down your forehead and pools in your neck, staining your shirt.

You take a sharp turn into an alleyway, sprinting towards the end of it, but as you reach the end, you find yourself staring at a dead end. Panic sets in as you realize that there's nowhere else to run. Your pulse quickens even more as adrenaline surges through your veins.

You're trapped like a rat.

You hear its stomping as the monster catches up to you, trapping your only way out. It looms over you with its massive frame, casting a shadow over your small form.

You take one step back, then another, and then a few more until your back hits the wall.

Its 'head' tilts slightly as it studies you, as if expecting something from you.

Then again, maybe it is simply waiting for you to break down. To beg for mercy.

James.... I'm sorry. I hope you find your wife.

And with that final thought, it closes the gap swiftly, moving far quicker than you imagined a beast that size could move.

Before you can react, a large hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly against your windpipe. Your nails dig into its forearm as you attempt to pry it away from you. But it's like trying to move a mountain.

You immediately stop struggling as it presses the end of the blade's handle against your stomach, almost as if warning you. Struggling to draw in air, you and the monster stare at each other.

Minutes pass, and even though it hasn't moved or loosened its grip around your throat, it remains completely still.

Then suddenly, it pulls away slightly, raising its massive blade.

With dread settling in your stomach like lead, you squeeze your eyes shut.

...but nothing happens. No pain. No death.

Instead of feeling the searing agony of steel cutting through flesh, you hear a metallic thud followed by a low rumble. Cracking open your eyelids slightly, you notice that it had thrust its blade into the ground beside it.

It watches you closely for several tense seconds before slowly reaching out to touch you with its hand.

You instinctively try to pull away from its touch, but its grip on your throat tightens slightly, holding you in place as its fingers trace lightly across your chest.

As its hand continues to travel further down your body, you again try to struggle against his grip. It doesn't try to correct your behavior. Not that it needed to.

Your breath hitches in your throat as its hand slides under your shirt. Its burning touch sends a wave of unease through your body, threatening to engulf you fully like fire.

Maybe you'll spontaneously combust and be free from this.

Whatever it was searching for, it seemed to have found it as its hand begins tracing over the jagged scar that runs under your left breast as if trying to reopen it. You wince in pain as its rough touch irritates the sensitive tissue surrounding the old wound.

After a few moments, its hand shifts over to the matching scar under your right breast. Its touch lingers longer here compared to the last one, almost tenderly caressing the marred flesh before pulling away suddenly.

Withdrawing its blade from the ground, it turns away and starts to walk out of the alleyway. Yet instead of releasing you, it drags you along by the neck. Its coarse hands digging into your skin uncomfortably.

"Let go of me," you choke out between coughs, attempting to pry its hand loose from around your throat. Although it doesn't seem interested in releasing you anytime soon.

You frantically try to dig your heels into the ground in an attempt to slow it down, but the behemoth seemed unfazed. As you finally stop resisting, one thought throbs through your head...

Where was it taking you?

Turning your head to look over your shoulder, you see a familiar face walking over. As you make eye contact with James, you can't help but feel that he looked even more miserable than when you last saw him.

"Sorry if I spooked you," he says, approaching you cautiously before stopping to stand behind you.

You notice how uneasy he looks, shoulders hunched forward as his arms hand awkwardly at his sides.

"It's fine," you wave off, turning back to look at lake Toluca. "I'm glad you're okay."

There's no point in asking him to take a seat. Him or anyone you've met in this hellhole. They all seem to be needed anywhere else at random moments.

Yet you've always been stationary....stagnant.

"Did you find your wife?" you ask, breaking the silence. Your words seem to have caught him off guard, lips twitching before answering hesitantly.

"No… Not yet…"

You hum, looking down to stare at your own reflection in the water below, watching ripples distort your features until they disappeared completely.

There's a long pause before he speaks again, slowly as if talking to a skittish animal. "I found something…"

You shift yourself to look at him directly now, catching sight of the flip phone in his hand.

Your blood instantly runs cold, and your stomach drops. It feels like you're suddenly drawing air from a straw as your vision begins to blur with tears.

"Aw come on, show me"

"Get off of me"

"My boys wanna see too. Say hi to them"

"Get that out of my face"

"Stop fucking moving"

You close your eyes tightly, trying to shake off the surge of emotions.

Just breathe.

Breathe, damn it!

"(Y/N)?"

He sounds genuinely worried now, his hand reaching out towards your shoulder.

You pull away, your skin crawling just from the thought of human contact right now. Nausea rolls through your gut, threatening to bring up bile.

"Don't…" you barely manage to say, lifting a shaky hand to hold him off. "Just...give me a second."

James looks uneasy as he takes a step back to give you space, clearly not used to situations like these.

But you were.

You extend your hand towards him, looking at the rotted wood of the pier instead of making eye contact.

"Give it to me…" you demand, trying to force the waver out of your voice. You sound angrier than you meant to, but you just wanted everything to stop.

James hesitates for a moment, unsure whether giving you what you want is what's best right now. But eventually, he hands it over to you.

A sob escapes your throat, raw and ragged as you grip the phone tightly between both hands before snapping it in half with a satisfying crackle. You toss it aside without ceremony, letting it fall into the water below.

Suddenly aware of how loud your breathing is, you clutch at your chest as you gasp for breaths of chilly air, letting them fill your lungs before releasing them slowly. The sound of water calms your nerves a bit.

You vaguely register movement beside you, but refuse to look over.

James sits next to you, giving you space without forcing anything upon you.

After a few minutes, you start to calm down, although you feel exhausted from the whole thing. Silence settles around you again for another minute or two before you finally speak up again.

"I think this is hell"

There's no response from James, only the soft splashing of the waves below. When you finally glance over, you catch him staring at the vague silhouette of Silent Hill.

Your eyes flew open as a strangled breath forced its way into your lungs. "S-Sloan...gr...grab..." you struggle to choke out, your hand limply pointing at your broken healing kit.

Sloan looked at your kit, then looked at your stomach. Their breath quickened for a couple of seconds before letting out a frantic yell, scrambling over to snatch the kit and scramble back. Their hands fly to your wound again, making you grunt hoarsely.

"Sl...oan...." you mumbled, your lips sticking together as the blood dried on your mouth. You watch as Sloan opens the kit, rooting around its contents, frantically cursing under their breath.

"You can barely tend to a coffee burn, much less this," you mutter, unsure if they didn't hear you or if you never spoke at all. It was getting hard to tell.

You attempt to reach out to grab the kit from them before stopping. You raise your arm up, moaning as you try to get a better look at your hand.

It was bending the wrong way.

You look to your other arm, which was completely mangled, adding to the growing list of concerns you should probably worry about.

Before you can mentally organize that list into a beautifully organized form, complete with color coding, your shirt is ripped open, exposing your deeply sliced abdomen to the cold air. A jolt of pain rips through your flesh as a pained wail leaves your mouth.

"Mierda!" Sloan squeaks before retracting their hands from you and attempting to thread a suture. "msorry'msorry'msorry."

With the suture threaded, Sloan kneels besides you, so close that you can see their sweat-stained panicked expression. They let out one final 'm'sorry' before you're hit with blinding white pain. Your teeth clench as a scream tears through your throat. Sloan's hands grip at your wound, squishing the sliced ends together.

Your body bucks instinctively, trying to escape the pain, but Sloan presses their weight onto you, holding you in place.

At that moment, maybe it was a miracle, or maybe it was some other phenomena, clarity hit you like a truck. You raise your broken hand, holding it in a way that lets your pointer finger stick into the air.

"Ce...Center of....wound......through the..ee...edge," you cough out, waving your finger like a wand, showing Sloan the stitchwork. You can tell they are panicking hard, so you try your hardest to suppress your scream when they begin to sew your flesh closed.

"You're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine," Sloan repeat like a prayer, hands trembling as they tried to ignore the pool of blood beneath the two of you. After they close you up you'd be fine, right? The body makes blood pretty quickly, right?

You'd be okay.....right?

"Up...side down......dermis....throu...through the..ba..ba...base."

"You're gonna be fine, you're gonna be fine."

"Nnnnn....knot on..top of....of wound."

"I'm almost done, you're gon.....please, please."

"..."

"....(y/n)?"

Despite this, Radahn made every effort to hide his disappointment, showering you with even more affection than before.

Kisses became more frequent, often stolen whenever the opportunity presented itself. He took delight in having you sit on his lap, enjoying the feel of your small body pressed against his own.

But there were times when lust would take hold of him, and Radahn couldn't help but crave the feeling of burying himself deep inside you again.

One day, Radahn found himself speaking with Rykard about his size issue. The Praetor's response made Radahn terribly furious, requiring several others to pull the General off of him.

"Why not let your men fuck him?"

It was a perverse thing to suggest....

Yet it lingered in the back of his mind, and when he allowed his thoughts to humor the idea, he found that it made his cock twitch.

~~~~~

"Come here," Radahn murmured softly, pulling you onto his lap as he reclined on the massive bed. His legs spread wide open, inviting you to lay back between them.

The Redmane knight had wasted no time in stuffing his cock back inside you, filling you up completely.

Radahn's golden eyes watched as his knight thrust into you mercilessly, a low groan escaping his throat.

"Look at me…" He commanded hoarsely, tilting your chin upwards so that your gazes locked together.

You tried to speak, but a whine slipping through first. "Ra...Rahd-" was all you could manage to choke out before devolving into a blabber.

His large thumb continued to rub soothing circles along your cheek as the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air.

"Shh…" Radahn whispered reassuringly, leaning down to press a tender kiss against your forehead.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he listened to your breathless moans.

"That's right…good boy…" He praised, his voice dripping with pride as he felt your small body tremble with every thrust.

Radahn's gaze shifted from yours to the Redmane knight currently buried deep inside you. His hand reached out to rest on the man's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as he asked, "How does he feel?"

Was it wrong for him to want to know how another man fucked you?

"H-he feels tight, My Lord!" The Redmane knight stammers nervously, sweat trickling down his brow as he continues to pump in and out of you roughly.

Radahn nodded approvingly at the response, continuing to stroke himself lazily besides your head as he watched the show, moaning lowly. He bucked his hips, matching the rhythm of the Redmane knight's thrusts as he imagined it was him buried deep inside you instead.

His eyes never left your face, an animalistic growl rumbled in his chest as he watches your expressions change. Your moans and whimpers were like music to his ears.

"Do you like it?" Radahn asked huskily, his grip tightening around his cock as he fucked his fist. "Is he making you feel good?"

"Yes…" you whispered weakly, nodding your head weakly in agreement before slumping back into his lap.

A satisfied grin appeared on his face as he heard how sounded. Looks like you really needed this after a while of not getting any from him.

"Good…" Radahn purred, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your temple before shifting his attention back to the sight of the Redmane knight fucking you mercilessly.

"You seem to enjoy yourself."

As the Redmane knight's thrusts began to falter, Radahn couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. Leaning forward, he gave the man's back a playful slap.

"Looks like you're almost done there…" Radahn murmured gravelly, "Go ahead, finish inside him."

As soon as the words left his lips, the Redmane knight thrust into you a couple more times before letting out a loud groan as he cums inside you. The man collapsed on top of you, panting heavily as his throbbing cock shoots out the last of his load.

Radahn watched as the knight pulled out of you, his lead dribbling out from your hole. The general grunts as he grips the base of his cock tightly, not wanting to cum just yet. He looks down at you, reaching out to rub your stomach soothingly.

You look absolutely ruined.

"Thank you for your service." Radahn said dismissively to the Redmane knight, waving his hand towards the door. "Send in the next one on your way out."

As you lean your head onto his shoulder, there's a slight shift in his posture as he adjusts to accommodate you comfortably. After taking a sip yourself, you pass him back the flask, feeling the warmth spread through your chest from the cheap whiskey.

The burning liquid leaves a lingering taste on your tongue as you struggle to stifle a cough. The alcohol stings going down your throat, reminding you why you didn't enjoy drinking too much in the first place. But you were bored, and there wasn't much else to do.

Once you return the flask to him, Micah gives a soft chuckle before raising it to his lips. You watch as he drains the last drops of liquor from the container without hesitation. You observe how his throat bobs as he swallows before placing the empty flask down on the ground beside him.

Feeling a little lightheaded from the drinking, you manage to push yourself up from the log and stretch your limbs.

"Getting late," you murmur, glancing at the moon high above. "Goodnight....Mr. Bell."

However, just as you start walking towards your tent, Micah suddenly reaches out and yanks your arm, causing you to lose balance and land right on top of him. There's a surprised yelp escapes your lips as you end up straddling his lap.

"Aw now, don't be so eager to leave," Micah slurs, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you on his lap. "Stay here with me a bit longer." His voice drips with subtle flirtation as he looks up at you with a smirk, eyeing you up and down hungrily.

Micah leans in and presses his nose against your cheek as he murmurs lowly into your ear, "Mmmm… I betcha tight ass just beggin' for it boy. Wanna slide my thick cock inside you nice and slow… hear ya moan as I fill you up, feel you squeeze those thighs 'round me."

How romantic.

Pulling away with a huff, you grab hold of his hat and pull it down firmly over his eyes.

"You're less charming when you talk, Mr. Bell," you bite, giving his head a nudge before letting go.

Micah rolls his eyes beneath the shade of his hat before pushing it back up onto his forehead. "Well, aren't you just a tease," he mutters under his breath.

Letting out a sigh, you stand up from his lap and begin to walk away towards your tent. Pausing for a moment, you glance back over your shoulder to see if he's following you.

Seeing him still sitting there idly by the campfire, you arch an eyebrow questioningly at him.

"Aren't you coming?" You call out.

Micah quickly jumps up after you, realizing he might miss his chance for some fun. Although truthfully, he was fully prepared to drink alone again tonight since he wasn't expecting you to take his offer seriously.

"Coming… yeah…" He mutters quietly under his breath, trying not to look too desperate.

Looks like tonight won't be so boring after all.

The cup seemed to disappear in his big hand, his giant form dwarfing even yours as he stood next to you. Reinhardt watches as you take the cup, your hands making brief contact. At that moment you realized that these cups were rather large, barely being able to hold the whole thing in a single hand.

The old crusader leaned in closer to you, his arm brushing yours lightly. "I am glad you could make it tonight," he says, raising his voice over the loud music and taking a sip from his own cup.

"At least one of us is," you mutter, taking a sip of your own. Despite not putting any effort into projecting your voice, he seemed to have caught it.

You see a slight furrow in his brow at your words, "Ah, well…", he starts to speak, hesitating slightly, "if you do not wish to be here…"

He takes a big gulp from his cup, letting his gaze drift towards the other guests before focusing back onto you.

His expression turned serious now, "If it would make you feel better, we could leave early?"

Silence fell between you as you meet each other's gaze.

Feeling your fingers tracing along his stomach, Reinhardt couldn't help but let out a soft moan at the sensation, his muscles relaxing under your touch. His eyes were shut, head leaning back as he let you explore his body.

Soft whispers left his lips in German, too low for you to hear properly, though they sounded sweet.

As you grabbed his hand, pulling it up to hold your palm to his, Reinhardt opened his eyes lazily, watching as you examined both of your hands.

A small smile graced his lips as he spoke up, "Ja, mine is quite larger.", he says, sounding a bit prideful.

"Everything about you is larger," you huff, pushing him onto his back, eliciting a grunt from him as he lets you do so easily. "It's not fair."

He folded his arms behind his back, exposing his muscular torso to you fully. "Ah~ my apologies mein Liebling", he said in a playful tone. "I did not mean to be so imposing."

Chuckling, you climb onto him, straddling his chest.

Reinhardt groans, a light blush appearing on his cheeks, "And how does your Crusader look from there?" He asks, his voice lowering slightly.

"He looks...less intimidating," you mutter, feeling like those birds you see on rhinos.

Smiling softly, Reinhardt moved his hands from beneath his head to gently grip your thighs, squeezing them tenderly. He then moved one of his hands to your belt buckle, slowly undoing it while looking into your eyes.

A low hum escaped his throat as he worked on it, clearly enjoying every second of it.

As he finished undoing your belt buckle, he lifts your legs up with one hand, carefully sliding off your pants with the other, leaving you in just your boxers.

A soft sigh leaves your lips, a bit embarrassed he was manhandling you so easily. His eyes glance downwards briefly to admire your newly exposed legs before looking back up at you.

He hooks your waistband with his thumbs, motioning to pull them down. However, instead of doing it alone, your hands reached out to cover his, helping him remove your boxers with ease.

As they join your pants on the floor, he gives a small smile, grabbing at your hips and pulling you higher up on his chest.

Your face burned up as he did so, causing your cock to bounce slightly, dragging across his skin. Holding you firmly in place, he looks at your hard-on that was now a few inches away from his face.

Reinhardt leans forward slightly, his hot breath washing over your cock as he breathes deeply, taking in your scent. A shiver ran down your spine as he held you in place with strong hands, pausing for a moment before finally pressing his lips against your cock, placing a soft kiss on the throbbing shaft.

"Rein…"

Hearing you moan out his name and reach out to grab at his hair sent a jolt of heat throughout his entire body, causing him to shudder. He pulled back after placing a kiss on your cockhead, looking up at you.

"Sweet boy," he coos before planting another kiss onto your cock, followed by another, and another, peppering wet kisses across the length of your shaft. Each time he kissed it caused his already hard cock to twitch, precum beading at the tip.

He barely hears your little whines as he pressed his lips against your cockhead again, slowly parting them as he took you inside of him.

You gasp as you felt yourself slide into his mouth, your hands maintaining a strong grip on his head. A low moan escapes your lips as you struggle to stay upright.

Grunting at the sudden movement, he wrapped his arms around your hips, holding you close as he began bobbing his head back and forth, working your length in and out of his mouth.

Each thrust pushed your cock deeper into his mouth until you bottomed out, the tip of your cock hitting the back of his throat. He hummed softly in approval, the vibrations strumming through your dick as he held you there.

"F-Fuck," you whine, tugging on his hair a bit harder than intended.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he controlled the pace at which you fucked his mouth, changing between slow sensual thrusts and slamming your hips into his face harshly. It wasn't long before his mouth became sore from all the movement, but he paid no mind.

"Rein, I'm gonna…" you moaned, tugging at his hair as you felt yourself getting close.

Reinhardt suddenly thrust your hips forward, forcing you all the way down his throat. He swallowed convulsively around your cock, triggering your orgasm immediately. With a loud moan, you cum down his throat, filling it with rope after rope of hot cum.

Once you were done cumming, he slowly pulled back, releasing your cock from his mouth with a pop. Cum dripped from the corners of his lips as he smiled up at you.

Pulling you down to meet him as he gets up from laying down, his large hand gripping the back of your head firmly as he crushes his lips against yours. You let out a muffled whine, your hands holding on to his chest as you open your mouth to let him in.

You could taste yourself on his tongue as it wrestled with yours.

Pulling away from the kiss, he kept his large hands on both sides of your face as he squished your cheeks playfully. "Mein Schatz," he chuckled softly. "You taste delicious."