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You let out a groan of frustration upon processing the dingy classroom around you. ‘Midwich, again? Goddamnit.’ With a huff of annoyance you force yourself to the nearest generator and open the side panel, trying to connect wires and jumpstart the damn thing. You quickly notice someone approaching, holding your breath, judging whether to run or not you realize–much to your relief–it’s only Dwight.
“Hey.” You murmur, voice barely audible around the sputtering of the machine in front of you.
“Hi..back on gen duty?” Dwight asks, his fingers carefully trying to force other wires together, his voice has an awkward inflection, attempting to sound humorous, and lighten the mood, but his anxiety clings to his words like mud.
“Yup. Back on the grind, say, have you seen the killer?” You inquire.
“Nope. Nothing ye–” Dwight’s words get cut off by him suddenly wheezing, as all the air in his lungs is forcibly pushed out as he's slammed into the sharp edge of the generator, then yanked back, and slung over the killer’s shoulder.
Fuck.
You let out a yelp of surprise as your hands drop the wires and your neck cranes up, legs pushing you backwards, as far away as possible,scrambling back towards the wall. You catch the white pale ghoulish face, surrounded in black robes, practically bleeding into the surrounding shadows. Shit.
You manage to use the adrenaline to kickstart your body into getting out of there, hearing Dwight’s scream of pain as a metal hook is jammed through his shoulder. You run and decide the smartest option is to get away as far as fucking possible.
And that is how you spent most of the game, doing gens and paranoid, Dwight’s gone and died, entity harvesting his body for the reset, along with the david who you had to patch up a few times. It was just you and Kate left, Entity bless her for holding his attention for so long, you only needed to do one more gen and you could get out of this stupid place.
Your hands shakily grasped the wires, you were so close to getting this last gen done! You feel hope igniting in your chest, determination causing you to tunnel-vision, but your blood turns ice cold as a strong grip latches itself around your shoulder—yanking you back, as Ghostface slams you into the wall, his iron grip a shackle around your throat.
As he squeezes your throat, fingers pressing around the blood vessels ever so slightly. A slight fuzzy feeling worming its way into the edges of your brain;you can feel your heart pounding, a humiliating warmth igniting in your gut, a barely audible whimper slipping past your lips.
Tilting his head at you, Ghostface shakes his head at you, before stabbing it into the wall above you, and roughly pressing his thigh against your burning core. You can’t help yourself, chasing the sensation of pleasure, your underwear becoming slightly damp.
“Wow. You’re a fucking sicko. You realize I am going to kill you right? Or are you that desperate to get laid that’d you fuck your soon-to-be murderer?” Ghostface taunts, his voice deep and flat, due to the voice modulator. Masking his words in an artificial heaviness, except for an audible lilt that allows you to practically hear his shit-eating grin.
He pulls his thigh away suddenly, pushing you down to your knees, hand removed from your throat, now on the back of your head. You barely process your surroundings, focused on the now apparent bulge in his black jeans. You can’t help your face from practically pressing against his bulge, desperate to taste the flesh beneath.
Your eyes flicker up once for confirmation, as he nods, you scramble to undo his zipper and the button of his jeans, pulling out his cock. You push your face against his throbbing member, the smell of his musk and cologne assaulting your nose,overwhelming your brain—making you unable to think. You pull back, pressing kisses to the head, sloppily licking from the base up along his shaft, flicking your tongue along the slit, drool coating the head. You repeat this process over and over, desperate to worship the hard member in front of you. Wanting to savor this opportunity, you gently ease the first few inches of him into your mouth. You gently suck and move your head, teasing him, slowly working your way down—until he gets impatient, grabbing your hair in his hand.
“I don’t have all fucking day, slut. You need to pick up the pace.” He grits his teeth, shoving all of his large cock down your throat, causing tears to well up in your eyes, your nose pressed against the short, dark hairs on his pelvis. He sets a rough pace, thrusting in and out at his own tempo, saliva and precum coating your tongue and lips, your hips buck forward against nothing, desperate for friction. Ghostface notices this, laughing at you.
“Aww, you need something to grind your slutty pussy against? Well since you acted like a cowardly little bitch all match I’ll treat you like one.The only way you’re getting off right now is humping my boot like the dog you are.” He mocks you, cold teasing and faux-sympathetic. You feel the rough material of his boot press against your jeans and soaked underwear. You nearly sob, grinding your throbbing cock against his boot, rubbing your crotch back and forth, moaning around his cock, the vibrations causing him to groan. It was so humiliating–being treated like a dog–but something inside you was unlocked. You wanted to be treated like a dog—his dog; to be owned, punished, and forced around in a collar. You renewed your efforts, wanting and craving pleasure, you’d take anything he’d give you. Fuck, you were going crazy, weren’t you?
“Fuck, Sweetheart—look at you, humping my leg lie a bitch in heat—f-fuck—your loving this aren’t you?” He grits through his teeth, trying to hold back his sounds of pleasure. You moan, drool coating your chin and his full balls, his cock still thrusting, before he grabs your head with both hands, forcing you to take him fully, his cum spilling down your throat. He pulls himself out, tucking his softening cock into his jeans. As he stares off down the hallway.
“Oh well would you look at that, we had a little audience watching, your dumb teammate got to see how much of a whore you are!” He says theatrically, your head whipping to look down the hall, seeing Kate standing there at the end of the hall, before running away down the stairs. Oh god, she saw you suck Ghostface’s cock. You can’t help the way your breath picks up in an inaudible gasp–well it would’ve been if you didn't feel ghostface’s blood and juice stained boot press up against you as a confirmation that, yes, he heard that.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, doll–” He grabs your arm–yanking you up; He hoists you up and slams your body onto a hook. The metal pierces straight through your shoulder, which causes you to scream. He grabs his knife from the wall, before dropping down to the first floor, in search of the aforementioned Kate.
A few seconds later you see Kate round the corner, picking you up off the hook, looking a bit uncomfortable.
“Fuck, Kate–I’m sorry you ha–” Your apology is cut off as she speaks.
“Don’t worry, I get it, good stalling strategy, I did it once to that fucking gross clown guy. Did what I had to.” You nod as if that’s totally the reason, not having the heart to tell her she’s incredibly wrong on this conclusion.
You quickly try to get to the nearest gen. Which unfortunately is on the first floor, carefully hopping down, you feel pain shoot up your legs, your ankle making a sick popping noise as your ankle dislocates.
You bite your tongue to hold in your screams of pain, as you try to weakly walk to the gen that had some progress, the one Kate decided to half start. You get so focused you barely realize that Kate had been downed until you hear her horrified scream of agony and the sound of the entity claiming the last other remaining teammate. It was just you and him now.
You try to run when you feel something watching you, desperate to survive, but you land wrong on your foot, your leg buckling beneath you in pain, directly in the center of the school. A strange red sigil painting onto the ground under you.
“Well, now it’s just us two, we won’t have to worry about prying eyes.” He purrs, hunching over you, wrapping his hand around your throat, using its pressure to pull you upwards, back arching as you settle back against his chest.
“However, I know that’s not something you're worried about, is it, baby?” He whispers, voice teasing and low, causing you to shiver, your previous arousal returning full force, underwear cold and damp against your scorching body. He slowly grinds his crotch against you, his thick length rigid against your ass. He snakes his other hand up your shirt,trailing the cold blade’s edge trailing down your chest.
“Careful…wouldn’t want to accidentally gut you–yet.” He threatens, twisting his wrist as his blade rushes outward, cutting your shirt in two, before he quickly pulls the rest of the garment off of you. He hums, admiring your back–how it glows in the moonlight–before he moves his hand around your throat to grab the back of your neck, pushing your body down onto the rough, cold ground, holding you in place.
“I’m planning on taking my time tonight…keep your eyes forward–or I’ll cut your eyes out and fuck the sockets–okay, darling?” You nod, knowing he wasn’t joking, and it helped that death is a damn good motivator. You hear a weak thunk behind you, followed by you feeling his weight shift as he settles over you, his breath hot against your neck. He places a single kiss against your neck. Trailing kisses up and down your neck, somewhat distracting you from his hands trailing down against your pants, unbuttoning them, pulling them down to your knees. His own following with a thudonto the concrete floor.
“Fuck, sweetheart–you’re so wet–all for me, huh? All mine?” He groans, his voice raspy, and rough. He teases your slit, trailing his fingers up and down, before slowly inserting one into your tight heat. He groans again, directly into your ear, thrusting it slowly, before working to insert another one. He continues to tease you, slowly working up to three. The sloppy, wet squelch embarrassingly lewd as well as loud–your face burning at the sound.
“Please,Ghostfa–” He cuts you off.
“Danny.” He interjects.
“Danny–please, I need more..” You blush, trying to bury your face into the crook of your arm. He pulls out his fingers, wiping them on his leg.
“But I did give you more, unless you meant something else?” He teases–that smug bastard. You suppress a groan of frustration. He teases the head of his cock against your cunt, never quite putting it in, pressing the head against your hole, occasionally trailing it downward and rubbing his cockhead against yours, causing you to whimper.
“Fuck–please, Danny, I need your cock in me, I need it so bad.” You tear up, humiliated by your desperation to get fucked. He hums at that. Slowly he inserts his cock into your soaked pussy. He grunts as he bottoms out, you gasp at the feeling of being so, so full. He sets a rough pace–sharp quick thrusts–his cock grinding against that spot inside you that has you whining, your soaked walls tightening around him.
You feel one of his gloved hands sneak down in between your thighs, roughly rubbing your cock, causing you to gasp. The overwhelming sensations cause the coil inside you to tighten further and further, your orgasm quickly building, your walls constricting around his girth. His hand gripping your hip pulls away, before moving up to grip your throat, gently squeezing it.
“Y’know, the Entity gives us killers inhuman power, and the Entity is a god, which technically, by association, makes us also gods.” He purrs, his tone smug and self-righteous. He starts to slow down his thrusts, and moves the hand on your cock to grab at your hip.
“So…the only way you're cumming, is on your God’s cock.” He chuckles maliciously, as he slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip lodging inside you, slowly fucking only the first inch in and out. You whine as you're denied your finish, tears spilling from your face.
“Please–please, I need it, I'm so close!” You beg, desperate for release. You grind back against him, trying to get more of his cock inside you, before he tisks you, mocking you for your neediness. He graciously fulfills your request, slamming his cock fully inside you, his balls slapping against you. You can’t help the pathetic whine of ‘oh god’ that leaves your lips.
“You're right, I am your God, cry out for me.” He quips, chuckling at his own stupid little joke. He doubles his own pace, chasing his own orgasm, while his thumb roughly grinds and strokes your nub in tight little circles. You moan from the quickly building heat, your body trembling, barely aware as he gently kisses and bites your neck, his stubble lightly scratching against your smooth skin, telling you how good you are for taking his cock and how you’re doing so well. You feel yourself start to drool, eyes rolling back into your head, eyes barely able to stay open.
“You gonna cum sweetheart? Go ahead, cum on Daddy’s cock.” He continues to fuck you, his once sharp thrusts turning sloppy as he begins to chase his own orgasm, leaving you spasming as you cum. You whimper, drool pooling out of your mouth as his hips thrust once–twice–then still; As hot, thick cum poured deep inside you, filling your insides. He pants heavily, pulling out of you slowly. You feel his cum start to leak out of you, causing him to quickly snap a picture before using his fingers to push the excess back into you.
“Go on baby boy, tidy yourself up. Or did I fuck you so hard your dumb brain can't figure out how to put your pants back on?” He asks, his tone allowing you to practically hear the smug, egotistical smirk plastered on his face.
In a mildly embarrassing attempt to prove him wrong, you fumble around for your underwear and pants. Unfortunately, to your pure horror you can only find your jeans. No underwear. In a panic you whip around–and almost bump into Danny, who has put his mask back over his face.
Danny tilts his head at you, holding up your underwear before quickly putting them in his pocket. You go and try to take them from him, hands still clutching your jeans, when you feel his foot sweep under your legs, causing you to trip into him. He carries you as you squirm and try to get out of his grasp, before you hear a worryingly familiar ringing behind you.
“Danny..don't you fucking dare..” You threaten, growing embarrassed at the idea of the others seeing you..in this exposed state.
“Oh right, don't want them going and getting the wrong idea! Wouldn't want them to think you're a slut for murderers now would we? Can't have someone as weak as you somehow walk away unscathed!~” He teases, and before you can say anything, you feel a sharp cold piece of steel pressed up against the left side of your throat.
“Let’s fix that, shall we?” With that, you feel a painfully quick sensation quickly make it's way across your neck, blood immediately gushing out, causing you to sputter and panic, desperately grabbing at your throat to stop it, growing woozy and lightheaded within seconds.
Your body quickly plummets forward into the hatch, you almost hope you die before the hatch processes you, at least you’d reappear with your clothes on.
You're granted no such mercy. Dirt and warmth surrounds your side, as you lay on the ground, the cut on your throat healed immediately, but the wet stickiness on your thighs informs you that no, you weren't given such luck elsewhere.
You feel a jacket quickly get thrown over your ass and thighs, feeling eternally grateful to whomever it was, much too tired to look up, quietly muttering out a scratchy “thank you.”
You’re met with silence, for the most part..
Until it's broken.
“Yeah, of course… I,uh.. hate when they just drop you into the hatch…naked..” what the fuck. No fucking way. You lift up your body to look so fast you almost accidentally headbutt him.
“Dwight...What the actual fuck.”