don’t repress yourself

Pairing: Shawn Heard x Reader

Warnings: cannibalism, smut, coercion (if you squint), third person pov, gore, dom/sub dynamic, lowk just a descent into madness, mentions of blood, biting

Summary: The forest carries a haunting presence- one that whispers in your ear without a single knowing. Another freak tragedy just turns into another folkloric story.

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: I haven’t written a fic since 2019 and the absolute LACK of Shawn Heard fics has made me come out of my little hole. English is not my mother tongue so please bear with me, there’s most likely mistakes.

He took her face in the palms of his hands- Shawn was like a bloodhound, in some senses. He could sniff out her insecurities, could sniff out all the anxious voices that whispered to her. She looked up at him, and it’s all he could see.

God, she was just too fragile of a girl for a guy like him to pass up on. He knew what kind of girl she was right when she first spoke to him.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m right here with you, see? Hold my hand it’ll make it hurt less”

His southern twang rang in her ears, all soft honey and tender bones. She didn’t know if he meant the dull ache of despondency in her chest would hurt less, or if it would make what was to come hurt less. She didn’t want to know- not now, anyways.

“Okay,” She whispered so softly she feared he may not hear her- but he had. He always had.

He leaned in slowly to kiss her, but not before pulling away slightly and laughing teasingly. He liked seeing her chase after him.

She smacked him hard in the chest; he really was an asshole.

“Cut it out!”

He kissed her with all the fervor one could muster. It was all teeth, hands groping and squeezing whatever flesh they could, all heavy breath stirring with unadulterated ardor- it was the essence of Shawn. The tree bark dug into her back with the force he’d pushed against her with, and she liked the way it hurt.

The way their bodies searched for one another held something animalistic- a kind of intimacy that she’d been searching for.

He said her name then, all breathy and soft, and she hated how she couldn’t trust his tone or the way his mouth curved when he’d said it. She knew what he was. She knew what she was to him. But, even if Shawn was an instigator to chaos and held little care to all but himself, she liked feeling like she mattered to him.

She’d participate in her own deception. Even if it was only for the night.

She shivered as his fingers glossed over the curve of her skin gently, her shirt lifting up tauntingly in the process. The soft breeze of the forest was like a third kiss in the air- something presumptuous that made the hair on her arms stick up and her nipples harden under her thin shirt.

His pace slowed now, forcing her to submit to soft kisses she did not ask for. It made it even harder. Now, he was permitting her to really feel him. To touch the bare of his nape until his skin was the only thing she knew indefinitely.

“Your lips were fuckin’ made for me”

She let out a shaky exhale from his words. Was this the make of an actor? She could be his actress. If he gave her the promise of his hands and voice being sweet like mercy, she would be whatever he’d have her be.

He leaned down, giving her neck open mouthed kisses as his hands now lingered down to her thighs. He gripped the back of her thighs with a harshness that contradicted the gentleness of his mouth. Both feelings at once made her head tilt to the sky.

She wore her shorts today, as she had most days in cause of the damp humidity. She became thankful for the unrelenting heat instead of cursing it like she had the past few weeks, because now Shawn had the access he needed to grip her ass. The tips of his fingers toyed with her panties- coquettishly swiping up and down, going under them to feel what skin was hidden from him.

She gave him a soft whimper when he sucked on one particular spot of her neck, and she could feel him grin against her skin. His hands moved from her ass- though still never leaving her body- and found themselves on her pelvic bone.

His hands moved with such practiced ease, she hadn’t even noticed they’d slipped down to the buttons of her shorts. She went to look down, and perhaps put a stop to something she could not name and would not dare to. However Shawn was a bloodhound that knew of her insecurities, and he kissed her before she could even form a retort.

He kissed her with a promise of sweetness- a slow death as she’d have it.

She pulled away slightly as his fingers undo the last button and his fingers begin pulling her shorts and underwear down.

“I don’t deserve good things” she whispers, and it sounds definite, like a sentence already passed. As if she does not deserve small joys and even smaller love.

But Shawn is bred from violence- he knows what he is and what he is not.

She craves something familiar now, because the softness of his touch is something alien and terrifying to her now. It is best kept to himself, and Shawn realizes this as soon as he looks into her eyes and her furrowed brows.

He could do that for her- be her ruin and chaos; give her teeth and mar her skin. If it isn’t comfort she seeks, he’d make her pulse beat stronger than the thoughts in her head.

He doesn’t reply to her, because he knows it’s useless and that the truth lay bare and naked in front of both of them.

He pulled down her shorts harshly as if they were an offense to him, and kissed her so hard her head slammed against the tree behind her. Patience was now a threat, and she began to simmer her fingers down to his waistband.

She stood only in her thin t-shirt, with her shoulders down and vulnerable. His mouth ravished her own in hastiness, brutality had now replaced his softness, and her lips were becoming a plump-dull red.

She’d finally managed to shimmy his red shorts low enough so she could reach into his boxers, her fingers ghosting over the length of him. He pulled from her and hunched over her shoulder slightly, his mouth twitching.

She reached her other hand up to him; whether to tug at his hair or to scratch at his neck, she did not know. She stroked his cock until he gave a groan he tried to mask with biting her neck.

When she let a soft moan escape her, he took her jaw in his hand and roughly turned it to his face, and she was met with a clench in his jaw and a want in his eyes that was so predatory it made her very soul vibrate.

“Let me fuck you. I swear to God I’ll never ask for anything else. Just lemme fuck you.” He slurs like a man possessed.

It wasn’t a question, not really anyways. She knew that even if she’d refuse him, he’d take her anyways. And as perverse as it was- she felt herself become even wetter with the thought.

Maybe it was because it was an action of unquestioned desire that cared not for its disallowance. That his carnal desire was her- simply, plainly, her.

God, there was something wrong with her head. But he was the same, and perhaps that’s why she was so attracted to his maddening ways.

“I want every nerve of my body to feel you,” She whispers as if they were performing an ancient ritual- two animals circling one another, seeing which will bite first, which will succumb to death first.

He swallows at her words, and wordlessly lifts her leg up so her ankle dangles over his waist. He grips her thigh with so much force that she bleeds, and the blood that runs from her and onto the ground is nothing compared to the way the tip of his cock feels sliding up and down against her, wetting itself with all she has to offer.

He kisses her cheek sloppily, moving to the corner of her jaw until he reaches her mouth. He ruts against her until she’s left whimpering against his lips, but it’s still not enough for him.

He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, and the head of his cock throbs so intensely he feels as though it might combust right there and then, but still- he wants to hear her plead and beg for him. Who was he if not a greedy bastard?

“Please… please please please” She gripped his neck and forearm so tensely, she could only hope he might feel the desperation that leaked from her.

“Please Shawn, let me have this. Let me have you”

He grinned down wolfishly with all his teeth to show.

“All you had to do was ask baby” He’d said it so mockingly- so fiendishly.

He didn’t enter her softly- no- he hadn’t even given her a warning. He simply shoved himself inside of her, uncaring of the lack of preparation he’d given her.

He swallowed her cry with his lips and took the hand that was clenching his forearm so intensely into his own. His hand pinned her wrist to the tree behind them, and the old bark scratched the back of her hand raw.

He didn’t go inside of her inch by inch to savor the feeling. He was too hungry for that, starved for how she could make him feel, aching to feel the warmth of her. His pelvic bone met hers as he let himself become swallowed by her.

She was besieged with such strange sensations; dark sensations. The carnal kind, that made her pant and moan and cry.

He fucked her like a man bewitched. Thrusting in and out of her at a pace she could not match.

The mark of his nails on her thigh was no longer the crescent of his fingertips; they were long, bloody, scratch marks. She didn’t notice. Pain and pleasure was all that was left of her.

He moaned into her mouth, the air he breathed became hers.

“Fuuckk” She let out a simpering whine, and a gasp that followed.

“You feel so fuckin’ good. So fuckin’ good. S’like you were made for me.”

She could barely make out what he was saying, too lost in the pleasure he was giving her. His hand detached from her wrist and instead went down to her clit, massaging her in rough circles that matched the pace of his hips.

It was all too much, too many sensations, she could only moan and scratch at his back to bring him even closer- if that was even possible.

The scratches on his back now matched those of her thigh, and they were both left dripping with small beads of blood.

He was no longer grunting in whispers; he was a left a mess of whimpering and groans that almost matched her own.

The rough pads of his fingers and the feel of his cock hitting the sweetest spots left her on the very brink of her demise.

“I’m gonna come! Don’t stop, please don’t stop” She begged him, because she would simply die if he could not grant her this.

Her words only encouraged him, merging even closer to her body until all she could feel was that fucking tree and the heat of his body.

When she came, it was not soft and loving. It was brutal, and he did not slow down for her.

His fingers left the bud of her clit and instead moved to her mouth to cover the harsh cries of overstimulation that left her lips.

Now, he was chasing his own demise.

He bit into her neck again, but this time was different from the last. This was pure intoxication- this was the hunger he felt coming to light. He was a starving man, and her flesh was on display so prettily for him.

His thrusts had not slowed, he raised her thigh higher so he could grasp a better angle, and God, had he ever found it.

His mouth left her neck, and he could feel the wetness soaking his chin. His hand slid sloppily from her mouth and instead went to base of her throat, squeezing pressure.

He bit her so hard she saw stars. He bit her so hard, she saw God.

There was something strange in these woods. Something that made every humaine ideation shatter and crumble into dust. Something that made what they were doing to each other make perfect sense, something grotesque that made them both shudder and grasp for the air they could not seem to find.

He picked her up, kissing her without technique; just lips and blood that he coated her mouth with.

They went to the ground, her head hitting one of the giant roots the tree held.

She gasped as he entered her once again, her arm that wasn’t attached to his shoulder flying to grasp at something, yet finding only the base of the old tree.

She lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, as if to bring him closer, and he obliged without a second thought.

“I need you”

She didn’t know what exactly she needed, she only felt the overwhelming feeling that she needed him in some otherworldly sense; something she could not explain, something she had never felt before, but rather a feeling that rose primitively from her soul.

His hand went to her mouth, as if knowing exactly what she felt, as if offering himself as a sacrificial lamb.

Both her hands cusped his own, and she bit.

He groaned, and his pace inside her quickened.

Her back arched from the dirt beneath her, and she bit, and bit, and bit.

Until his hand was nothing more than a mess of blood. Till his fingers went missing from hedonistic teeth.