ddeacy_

The lake was completely frozen over. Snow pillowed every inch of the surrounding woods. Trapped beautifully up in the high Colorado mountains.

You took this job for the few weeks you were home for Christmas this year. Your office was closed for the holidays, and Alpine Lake was close to home for you. And it was not like you wanted to see your parents. Things had never been good with them. Magic in the air surrounding the season would not change that. All it meant was your mom was drunk on eggnog instead of her usual wine, and your dad was a little meaner when the sun went down sooner.

It was going to be fun. Make some friends, teach kids things they would take with them through life, cook some incredible meals, enjoy the nights around the campfire. Atleast that’s what you thought. The blizzard raging on had other plans. Accompanied by the Lake’s reputation proceeding it. An omen for outsiders to stay away. The incident back in the fifties. The three boys. Anyone with a head on their shoulders would stay far away from somewhere with this much darkness surrounding it. But there was no darkness like that in the belly of your childhood home.

It was only you and the three other counselors that showed up. Three men around your age. All other women your age having the common sense to avoid this hellhole. Or having people in their lives to warn them.

The owner had commented on how surprised he was that anyone showed up. The blizzard had postponed the children’s arrival indefinitely. He would advise you to go home, but there was no world where a vehicle was getting through this. Not safely. Deciding it was his responsibility to keep you all safe for now. The men all acting above the idea, yet here you all still were. Sat at long, camp like tables in the mess hall. Bowls of soup grasped between gloved hands. The fireplace hit against your backs as you ate. Your makeshift coworkers droning on about all the things they could be at home doing instead of being stuck here. Annoyingly humble bragging about their achievements and accolades.

Lucky for you, you finished your bowl. Standing and heading towards the back of the kitchen where the sinks were located. Not before one of the men, Jared, made an offhanded comment. Snarking, “Woah! That girl can eat!”

You scoffed when they all erupted in laughter. Ignoring the way they all high-fived and acted like that was the peak of comedy. Dustin and Landon, the other men, cackled and made noises to push his point further. Oinking like pigs. All entirely childish. Continuing to rinse out your bowl and lay it in the sink before walking back out to join them. Walking in on a conversation that you had no interest in joining.

“Yep. And she was screaming all night. Every fucking thrust, ‘Fuck yes, Jared!’ So hot,” the young man smirked, making eye contact with you as he reenacted the girl’s moans. Some sick attempt at flirting. Your lip arched in disgust. Walking back around to grab your thick puffer jacket.

“Awe, what’s wrong, honey? Too much for you to handle?” Jared smirked watching you round the table.

You chuckled, “If I wanted to hear sleezebags lie to their friends, I would’ve went to a bar.”

The two other men agged your comment along. Acting like you had burned Jared. Face flushing with embarrassment. Typically, girls fell for his charm. If you could call it that. Yet here you were, not giving him a second thought. And it made him angry.

Jared stood quickly to his feet. Tall and lanky, he loomed over you. Placing his palm on the table in front of your chair. The soft slam of it caught you off guard. “Running off so soon?”

“I’m going to the girl’s cabin,” you said putting your arms through the sleeves of your secondary jacket.

“All alone? Hah! You’re a prime target!” Landon laughed.

You scowled, “What?”

“Don’t you know what happens to snacks like you?” Dustin chimed.

Another scoff, “Grow the fuck up, Dustin.”

“You really don’t get it, huh? Back in the fifties some kids went missing here. One second they’re with the group, then next — POOF! Gone. The only things the could find were bloody clothes. No bodies were ever found. They say, the killer still roams the woods now. Looking for his next victim,” Jared’s tone fell down to campfire levels of story telling. Wiggling his fingers to creep you out further.

You rolled your eyes so hard you swore they could’ve fallen from your head. Jared attempted to tickle your sides with an evil laugh. You shoved him off of you, “You’re so full of shit!”

But you knew he was not. You knew all about the missing kids and even the rumors about burned clothes. It made you sick if you thought about it too long. The place was under new management, it’s not like anything like this had happened since.

Chills danced down your body from his touch. Violated and grossed out by his actions. Quickly zipping up your puffer while stepping back away from him. Glaring at Jared as he turned back and smiled at his friends.

“You’re all assholes,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah? Well, don’t come crawling to our cabin tonight when you freeze. Not interested in bitches like you,” Jared crossed his arms over his chest.

You laughed, “I’d rather fall in the lake than share a cabin with any of you.”

The three mocked you. One last childish antic to put the nail in the coffin. You grabbed your gloves from your pocket and slipped them on. Opening the door and refusing to look back.

“You can come snuggle with me, Y/N. I can keep you warm all night long,” Dustin called.

You hurried out the door. Angry that you let their childish comments get under your skin. Face hot to the touch causing the wind to burn harder. Almost like getting lashed at by the blizzard’s hand. You squinted, trying to keep the giant flakes of snow from your eyes. There was no short of four feet of snow on the ground now. Even for Alpine Lake, this was heavy.

The moon above was full. Shining as a secondary sun. Blinding you as it caught every cold flake. Reflecting into your eyes like a flashlight. Wind howling with each strong gust. Urging you to turn back now. Spend the night in the mess hall. Curl up next to the fire and wait until morning. But that would also mean admitting defeat. Letting the boys win, and risking them overstaying their welcome with you.

So you continued on. Lifting your legs higher with every stride. Steadying your heavy breathing. The cold air burned the back of your throat. Subzero temperature cutting into your body through the layers of clothing.

It was only a few more yards away.

Passing by a clearing that allowed you to look across the entire lake. Snow piled across the hundreds of feet of ice. Dancing along itself when a particularly rough breeze would blow. You thought about the depths of the water. Wondering just how deep it went. How easy it would be to get lost under it.

Then you noticed the old phone booth at the edge of the lake. No lights on, most likely meaning it was out of service. Stating at it for moment. Contemplating why they would place it there. Of all places, the edge of the lake. Odd.

Continuing to face the cold, you eventually arrived at the girl’s cabin. Ascending the stairs, you nearly slipped. Catching yourself on the railing before you busted your face. Laughing at your own clumsiness.

Finally at the landing, you jimmied the handle open. The large wood door hauntingly creaking open. It was dark. Only the soft glow of heaters on the walls and a fireplace at the end. Compact enough that you could always easily access the door, but spacious enough that if you had to be sharing it would not be uncomfortable. The owner had brought your bags over to the cabin while you were in the mess hall. A kind and considerate man. You wished the other boys would take after him.

You walked over to the mattress with your bag on it. Fresh linens made to look like home. A precaution so the kids did not freak out, you imagined. The squeaking of the boards and the howling of the wind would already be a bit much for them. Recalling how when you were a child, your mother would have to accompany you to the bathroom. Scared of the dark as many children were. The unrecognizable is easily misinterpreted in a child’s mind.

Shedding your mass of layers, you rummaged through your bag for your long-johns. Soft enough to sleep, but thick enough to keep you warm. The stress of the day was engulfing you. Dragging you down to bed.

You laid flat on your back. Hands folded neatly over your stomach. Staring blankly into the ceiling. The old wood not keeping the cold as far away as you would have liked. Crackling of the fire took your mind off of it all.

Had one of them happened here?

It made your stomach drop. Rolling onto your side so you could watch the flames in their recessed hideaway. Reds and oranges swirling together. Your only source of warmth for the nights ahead.

Three campers. All boys. They never found their bodies. Maybe they were out in the woods. Hidden in their unwanted graves. Lives taken too soon; and, from the rumors, brutally so. What kind of psycho would even keep this place open? A gateway to heartbreak and pain. Their souls had to be suffering. Begging for a rest they could never find. Stuck in the dark limbo of lost souls. While nothing else had happened, that did not mean something could not happen. What if it was one of your campers eventually arriving?

What if it was you?

It would do you no good to loathe on it. You were here now. Stuck here. There was no surviving a storm like this. Record setting temperatures. No one could. So you rolled to have your back to the fire. Letting its soothing warmth guide you to sleep…

… A harsh shiver woke you up. Blinking so you could focus. The flames were dying. And your door was wide open. Allowing the moonlight to dance across the wooden floor. Letting anything to crawl its way inside. Or anyone.

Your heart sank.

Rushing to force the large wooden door closed. The cold knocked your breath out of your lungs. Snow reflecting light and blinding you momentarily. Taking you aback. It was so beautiful. Calm and tranquil. No one to disturb the peace of nature. Your breathing steadied, allowing a wave of relief to wash over you. This would be okay.

Closing the thick wooden door, you turned on your heel. You froze. All the air trapping itself inside you. A man. Kneeled down in front of your fire. Hands extended to help thaw them. Mask sitting over his face, and was that… horns on top?

There was no way he was here before.

Tears welled behind your eyes. Preparing for the worst when you saw his axe resting on the floor beside him. A shaky exhale rolled through you. Tears burning against your frozen cheeks. Lip quivering as you begged your body to move. You could run. Run fast and scream loud. Praying that some of the others would hear you.

But you could not.

Your legs weighed a million pounds. Being swallowed by the floorboards below your bare feet. The frosty earth preparing for your arrival. Icy underneath readying your new home.

It was like that horror movie that came out a few years ago. The woman slaughtering unsuspecting camp counselors on the lake in Jersey. Counselors dumb enough to work at a place with a history of death and evil. A place that had closed many years ago because of all the tragedy surrounding it. Just like this place. Just like you.

The boy’s cabin was within running distance. The door was right behind you. You could make it. Scream loud enough to wake everyone up. You had to. This could not be how you went out. With a peep instead of a raging shout.

“Sorry about the draft,” was all he said. Voice low and husky. Muffled by the mask resting on his muzzle. Face still forward. Flipping his hands forward and backward to revive the frozen skin. More nonchalant than you would like.

A soft shake rippled through every inch of you. Fear making its home in your ribs. A hum of noise resembling a response was all you could muster. Closer to the squeak of a mouse. Timid and meek.

You tried to take in details about him in the darkness. His hair was long and ratty. Icicles forced the pieces together. His snowsuit was old and worn down. A large belt buckle caught the spark of flames that tried to breathe back to life before him.

There was something unrecognizable in the air. Putting a pressure on your chest that made it hard to breathe. Vision blurring as tears waterfalled from your tear ducts. Something in the moon.

“It’s a cold one,” he began as if any of this situation was normal, “I was out in the woods. I saw the glow through your window. And when I found out your door wasn’t locked, it’s like you were practically inviting me in.”

Why would you be out in the woods during a blizzard?

You nodded. Lashes fluttering to try and better focus on him.

It was locked.

Nostrils flexing as you tried your damndest to stop the tears streaming down. You needed to seem strong. You needed to stand your ground. You were raised better than this. To allow someone to overpower you so easily.

Maybe he worked here. Maybe he was just someone that lived near by that got caught in the storm. Maybe none of it was a lie and his intention was to simply warm up. The girl’s cabin is closer to the woods, he would have seen it first.

No. Not even that would give you solace now. You knew. Knew that he did not work here. Knew that he had been stalking and preying. Waiting for the perfect moment to creep his way inside. Most likely familiar with how things went here. There was no lying to yourself now. The only truth you could hold onto was the fear that seeped into your guts. Warning you of your fate.

“Why is there no one else in your cabin?” he finally turned to meet you. Eyes sparkling with the soft glow of the night pouring in from your window. Not with infatuation. No. With hunger. Like he was a starved animal and you were the runt abandoned by the pack. Perfect for feasting.

Your teeth chittered together. Tears prickling at the corners of your eyes again. Swallowing to stop them from breaking the crest. Nostrils flaring as panic set in.

“There’s usually five or six of you counselors per cabin,” your masked guest looked around the large room. Empty beds. Heaters on some of the walls. Their coils a bright orange indicating just how hot they were. Then his eyes locked back to yours, “So why are you alone?”

The heel of your foot bounced rapidly. All your fear manifesting in the fast movement. You fiddled with your fingers as they interlocked in front of you. Unable to speak.

The man sighed. Over exaggerating an eye roll and shaking his head in disdain. His head fell to the side as he looked up at you, clicking his tongue. One of his hands reached for the axe, noticing how your body tensed immediately. Tears silently falling down your cheeks once more.

The stranger picked up his weapon. Holding it loosely in his grasp, “Is this scaring you?”

You blinked. Lip quivering as you tried your hardest to respond. Nodding in agreement.

He scoffed. Sliding the heavy metal across the floor and under one of the beds. Completely out of either of your reaches. His arms extended to show that it was gone, “Better?”

Not a single motion. Feet glued to the floor and eyes focused entirely ahead. He could still easily overpower you. Thick torso and arms bulging against his clothing. Not watching his soft, almost condescending tone.

“Am I scaring you?” he asked slowly, pressing his fingers into his chest.

A blink.

His shoulders bounced with a laugh. Shaking his head in disagreement and stretching his neck. A huff fell from him, “I guess we haven’t introduced ourselves properly.”

You shook your head.

The man stared blankly for a moment. Gesturing towards you with his hand. Encouraging you to go on. His patience dwindling away. Typically, you would not tell a stranger your name. However, fear had its hooks in you. And maybe if you played along, he would spare you.

“I-I’m Y/N,” your voice cracked and shook.

His head tilted to the side as he looked up to the ceiling. Like he was rolling it around his mind. Testing it out in different situations. A hum vibrated through his chest.

“Y/N…”

You nodded. Chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for something more from him. The depth of his tone when saying your name made your stomach tighten. Flexing your toes to try and make the blood flow through them. The cold was beginning to get to you. The backs of your legs completely numb. Tingling as a reminder of the temperature.

“And yours?” You finally asked.

Catching him ever slightly off guard. Not expecting a blunt question from the girl who only spoken two words to him since his arrival. Stuttering through them at that. Air blew through his nose, “They called me Wild Bill.”

A nickname. Better than nothing.

“Now we know each other. So why don’t you come over here with me and warm up?” he motioned you over. Acting like being on the simplest introductions made you less of strangers.

You shook your head no.

Which he did not take well. Growling under his breath and looking back into the fire for a moment. Fingers flexing into fists at his sides.

“You’re freezing,” he gestured up and down your body. The shivers that made you look like a newborn deer were obvious. Arms crossed tightly across your chest, hands tucked under your armpits. His head tilted a little, “You can’t stay by the door all night. You’ll get pneumonia.”

The irritation lacing his words made your stomach slosh. Your instincts were failing you. Toes and fingers numb. Tip of your nose similar. Able to just barely see your breath as it fell from your lips. Chapped certainly to be raw by the morning. Even with the lack of words you were speaking.

Suddenly, he stood to his full height. Heavy boot stomping into the floor as he commanded, “Come here. NOW.”

Almost without thinking, your legs began to move. Stepping with a wobble across the icy floor. Nearing your warm sanctuary. The newly risen flames calling to you like a siren. Able to ignore your unwanted guest for only a moment. His stout body stood before you. Breathing loudly behind the thick mask. Your eyes stared down to the floor. Too embarrassed to meet his harsh gaze.

A hand extended out towards you. Your body flinching before you could realize it was. His fingers pinched your chin. Slowly guiding you up to meet his eyes. Shining their blue hue behind the old, cracked mask. Capturing you in them. His lashes jumped for a moment when your eyes finally held his. Having only seen as much of you as you had him. Shadowed by the dark of the cabin. Leaving the finer details to his imagination. But no more.

His hand ghosted across your cheek. Tucking your hair behind your ear, traveling to frame your jaw. Thick fingers splayed nicely against your skin. Borderline frostbitten. Still somehow cold despite his close proximity to the fire.

The wicked grin carved into his mask a stark contrast to the look in his eyes. Hooded and pupils wide. He was older. Crows scratching their claws beside his eyes. Bags heavy under his waterline. No pure thoughts behind his glistening orbs.

A sudden wave of courage came through you. Slowly reaching up to his own face. Preparing to remove the mask from him. Wishing to see the face of your guest. Needing to put a face to the stranger. Until his own hand grabbed your wrist, paralyzing it before you could even touch him. It hurt. He was strong, no doubt about it. Turning his head, he looked at your hand. Eyes jumping back to your face and shaking his head no. Your lip quivered under his stern glare. Blue eyes focused on you entirely.

You swallowed, “Why… do you wear that..?”

“It keeps me safe,” he said like the answer was obvious. Gently, he dropped your hand from his own. Running his fingers through your hair for a moment, eyes taking up and down your body. It was a struggle to look up from the floor. Your own eyes scanning what bit of him you could see while keeping your view down. The large belt buckle around his waist. The thick snow boots that cuffed around his pants. And oddly enough his smell. Woodsy and musky. Catching your nose with a similar frost to outside. Manly, like he worked day in and day out.

“You’re very beautiful, Y/N,” his tone darkened. Hand cupping the side of your face once more. Guiding your eyes back to his.

There was something alluring about him. Maybe it was the way he looked at you. Maybe it was the fact you had not been laid since your senior prom. Something about this whole situation had moths fluttering in your chest. Captivated by his presence entirely. Older, mysterious. Clearly holding the power over you. It was a perfect storm of a taboo night together.

“You’re… cold,” you whispered.

His thumb dragged down your lip, “That’s why I’m here.”

Your lashes fluttered. The implication lingered in the air. Hard to read if that was truly what he meant. Uncovered eyes only giving you so much of a window into his mind.

“Think you can help me?” he lowly asked.

Your eyes widened. A lump forming in your throat. Your lips catching on themself as they tried to mumbled out his name. Babbling over the first syllable.

His palms gripped your hips. Pulling your body closer to his. Allowing him to take in your scent, his breath ragged under the mask. Your arms curled into your body. Fingers nearly touching his chest. Your instincts begging you not to give into your desires. But that small voice in the back of your mind made a compelling argument otherwise. It was one night.

Fingertips danced along the tough material of the snowsuit. Cascading until they met the freezing metal atop his waist. You pulled your lip between your teeth, eyes jumping down for a moment. Able to catch a glimpse of the material tightening against his groin. His want for you making myself known.

You grinned to yourself at the thought. Lacing your fingers around the large buckle and spinning around him. Tugging him waist first as you stepped slowly backward. His heavy boots echoed through the cabin. Leading him to the bed you had claimed as your own for the night. Nearly frost bitten legs bumped the wooden frame, telling you to stop. Your eyes looked to his, almost asking permission. Making sure what you were doing was okay. His eyes were squinted up with the smile hidden behind the false one of his mask.

“We can… share the bed,” shaky words betrayed you. Tongue darting out to wet your chapped lips. Your fingers traced along his belt, almost teasingly. Waiting patiently for him to make the next move. Wanting him to lead in this game you were playing.

“I’ve got an idea how to keep up both nice and warm,” his hands danced along your sides. Faux nose bumping yours. And you could not deny how badly you wanted his lips on yours. Longing to feel a deeper connection to the stranger allegedly named ‘Bill’.

“Lay down,” he commanded.

You obeyed. Sitting on the mattress and taking your normal sleeping position. Legs spread preparing to accommodate him. He exhaled in approval. Joining you on the mattress. Dipping with your combined weight. Some shimmying and he was positioned above you. Propped back on his legs. Thighs bulging against his suit. His thick fingers rested along his belt.

The heavy belt buckle clanked against the wooden floor beside the bed. Sensually, he took the zipper down his chest. Stopping right below his groin. Beginning to shove the sleeves off his body. Leaving the thick snowsuit to pool around his waist. Torso bare. Muscular shoulders and arms with a soft tummy. Scarred and bruised. Veins decorating his forearms.

You could not help but admire his body above yours. His chest rose and fell harshly. Breathing in the same cold air that had woken you from your slumber. His collar bone softly defined as his muscles flexed. Strong shoulders rolling as he leaned forward and caged you between his arms. Nose to nose with the old mask. His oceanic eyes watched your face. Anticipation clouding your vision.

Hesitant hands reached out for him. Fingertips meeting his bare chest. Dancing along the cold skin. Cascading over his pecks, all the way down to the white elastic band of his underwear. Barely exposed from how his snowsuit hugged his waist, zipper not revealing the part of him you were to receive. Your fingers splayed along the band, dipping only the tips underneath. Feeling the soft hair of his pubic area. His steady breath caught in his throat at your touch. Making you fear for a moment you had made a mistake.

“Eager girl,” he cooed.

You tucked your head against your pillow in embarrassment. Heating up from his simple statement. Shyly nodding. It made him grin behind his mask.

“Come on. No need to be shy with me,” he encouraged. Brushing his knuckles down your cheek. Dewy eyes looked up at him. His eyebrows laid flat against his eyes, hooding them. The bright blue of his iris being drowned out by the width of his pupils.

There was a beat of silence. His labored breaths the only sound echoing off the walls. Caught in his mask. One of his hands ghosted down your body. Fingers catching the elastic of the thick pajama pants you wore. He leaned back on his legs, looking down at your clothed bottom half. Letting both hands frame your hips. Massaging and squeezing the meat.

“Have you done this before, Y/N?” the slight tinge of condensation made your body tingle.

You coyly nodded, “Not in a long time.”

“Good,” his smirk was palpable. He began to pull your long-jons off your legs. The cold stung against your bare flesh. He sighed when his eyes met the soft cotton of your panties. Tilting his head before flattening two fingers along your mound. Dragging them down until they met your soaked lips. Making you squeak.

Discarding your bottoms into the floor, he arched his hips so that he could shimmy the snowsuit further. Allowing his erection free from its confines. Curving towards his soft stomach. Heavy looking with a vein curling around it. Blushed red with need. You unabashedly stared.

It made him chuckle. His palms expanding against your bare thighs. Hooking around the curve of your leg. Placing it around his waist before scooting closer to you. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock. Absentmindedly pumping himself as he stared at your cotton panties. Your knee pressed into his side out of pure animalistic need. Mindlessly trying to press your knees together for relief. Almost like your body was unaware of the position it was in.

Swiftly, he grabbed the front of your panties. Ripping them clean off your body. The sound of fabric I aggressively cracking had your heart skipping a beat. The pure strength he was showcasing. It made your loins flutter.

“Better,” he purred. Discarding the now ruined panties, his fingers returned to your core. Flattening along your mound and dipping them into you. Swirling two of them methodically around your far too sensitive clit. Whining in response to his touch.

“So warm,” he cooed, “This outta keep me warm all night. What do you think, Y/N?”

You were losing it. The firm pressure on your nub, the fingers that barely dipped into where you needed him most. The goddamn teasing. It seemed to be his favorite part of it all. A game.

You nodded, “Yes. Please, yes.”

He laughed at your pathetic request. Your voice breaking and needy. Thinking how lovely you were like this. Practically clawing into him to make him stay. Get him as close as possible. Your need nearly surpassed his own, and he could sense it.

“Pretty voice,” he mocked, stroking his hand along your hair. It sent goosebumps down every inch of you. Culminating in your core where his fingers pulled away slowly. Framing his member to line up with your entrance. Slapping the head against your needy clit a few times. Sound lewdly echoing through the cabin.

Taking position, he was ready to enter you. His hips barely inched forward when you yelped. Body still in flight or fight. His own stopping. Blue eyes widening at how your face contorted in uncertainty.

“I’ll go slow, okay? That’ll help,” he said more as a command than a request.

Mindlessly, you nodded. Accepting his word like gospel.

His hips began to gently thrust into you. Only allowing the head to dip between your folds. Letting you adjust to his girth at your own pace. Putting the primal urge inside him into submission if only to let you enjoy this more. Edging himself inch by inch further until he felt your walls give. Letting himself fully sheathe between them with a low groan.

“Oh… there you go,” he purred, “It’s good, isn’t it?”

Your head was thrown back. Mouth gaping open as you tried to breathe. Eyes forced shut. Voice captured in your throat. You hugged your arms around him. Nails scratching down his bare back as you arched into him. Your torso pressing into his, finally letting the moan stuck in your throat escape.

He rolled into you steadily. Gradually building speed when you got louder. His heavy breaths fanned out the bottom of his mask, hitting your neck. Heating the two of you up. Nearly forgetting about the harsh blizzard that raged on outside.

One of his hands traveled down to your core. Planting a soft pressure against your clit. Matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Longing for the feeling of your walls clamping around his thick cock. And he could tell it would not be long before he had you cumming. Far too inexperienced and sensitive to last.

“Tight pussy,” he groaned when your walls fluttered. The head of his cock brushing the spongy spot that would coax you to an end. You fought to keep air in your lungs. Rapidly inhaling and exhaling. It was like music to his ears.

“B-Bill—“ you called out, feeling the knot inside you tying itself tightly. Earning a growl from him. Perhaps not the biggest fan of his name, or just not used to hearing someone say it this way. It made him thrust harder. Growing aggressive and animalistic. Grunting with every motion. The sound of skin smacking together heightened.

“Cum,” he demanded, “I need you to cum.”

You threw your head back once more. Eyes flying shut as you attempted to focus long enough to let it all flow through you. Never wanting this to end, but your walls were fluttering and it would not be long now.

With a few more circles of his fingers, your nails were digging into his muscular skin. Screaming his name with a moan. He wrapped an arm around you so that your hips were arched higher. Letting him stay deep between your folds through your orgasm. Fucking into you as you milked him. Edging him along to his own high. Leaning his head against yours, he moaned loudly. Coating your insides with his thick seed. Cock twitching and hips jerking with each spurt. Voice jumping an octave when he tried to catch his breath. Sounded utterly wrecked trying to hide how good it felt.

The familiar silence took over the room. His arm still hooked around your middle. His plastic forehead rested against yours. Neither of you saying anything. Letting your groins stay connected.

Then he shifted. Flipping so that you were lying atop him. His cock never leaving your insides, even as it softened. You nuzzled your head into his chest. Listening for a heartbeat that you could not fully place. Probably just from the way your ears were burning and your own heartbeat strummed in your ears.

The sandman must have visited. Your eyes grew heavy. Engulfed by the shared warmth between you. Letting the stranger remain here with you. He was the one keeping you warm after all.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I haven’t wrote for the Grabber in years, so it was nice to explore his character again. He’s diabolical, but damn is Ethan Hawke so hot. If you want to see more of him, feel free to shoot me a request! My inbox is always open. Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! Love ya! //

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