A Girl Wanting To Be Fxcked By Big Beefy Men.

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉ ୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ “ Rusty and his Candy Cane ~ ”

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ “ Sex on his rig ~ ”

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ “ Cumming home to his sweet baby ~ ”

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ “ He’s a hungry man ! ~ ”

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ “ What flirting on the CB leads to ~ ”

┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ୨♡୧ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈ ┈

Not a lot but thats ok (•﹏•;)

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⊹₊˚‧︵‿︵‿︵₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‿︵‿‧˚₊⊹

ᯓ★ “ Giving him Head ~ ”

ᯓ★ “ Rustys got a breeding kink :3 ”

ᯓ★ “ intimate moments ~ ”

ᯓ★ “ he loves watching it spill out ~ ”

ᯓ★ “ he gets hungry after his hauls ! ”

ᯓ★ “ hes got big hands 🤷‍♀️ ”

ᯓ★ “ dryhumping after cuddling on the couch ~ ”

｡ﾟ•┈┈┈┈┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈┈┈┈ •｡ﾟ

ᝰ🚬 “ breeding his candy cane before a haul so you have some of him inside of you while hes gone ~ ”

ᝰ🚬 “ you just cant help but melt into him ! ~ ”

ᝰ🚬 “ nothings more intimate between you two than mutual masturbation ! ”

ᝰ🚬 “ he spoils you with lingerie so he can rip it off and fuck you ”

ᝰ🚬 “ doesn’t matter how big or small you are , how tall or short you are , there will always be a size difference with rusty <3 ”

ᝰ🚬 “ giving you a choice ! how sweet ! (ˆ꒳ˆ) ”

ᝰ🚬 “ showing him how much you missed him ”

ᝰ🚬 “ rusty is a tit man and you canNOT convince me otherwise . ”

ᝰ🚬 “ truck sex !! ”

ᝰ🚬 “ just one last rusty breeding for all the horny lil pervs out there ( me too >.< ) ! ”

‘’Fuck.. FUCK! You just had to fucking mess with him didn’t you Austin?’’ Jordan snarled as his hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles becoming white from how much tension lied in his muscles. Austin just had to mess with that trucker, he had to piss him off and almost run him off the road. And now they were being the repercussions for his actions after they very loudly told him not to do the stunt he pulled. You had gotten kidnapped a couple of hours ago after they stopped for gas, and every CB channel was silent so nobody could find out what Rusty was doing to you. ‘’It wasn’t my fault–Who knew that piece of shit would go complete maniac on us!’’ Austin said trying to defend his actions despite knowing he was very much in the wrong, his hands were trapped around his hair out of stress. You were his girlfriend, his pride and joy–And because he decided to be a major dickhead you got thrown into this mess. 

RRR!

The racer's V8 engine roared like a hellcat screeching as the tires boomed down the road, Jordan’s hand reached out to the CB and turned the knob on. Turning it to every individual channel trying to listen for any hint of life, Jewel sat in the backseat torn if they should go to the police or stay silent just like Rusty had ordered. ‘’Maybe we should go to the police, he kidnapped her! That’s a crime–’’ ‘’No Jewel, remember what he said. If we went to the cops we’d be in deep shit!’’ Austin snapped at her, shutting her up efficiently as Jordan snapped his head towards him. 

‘’Don’t yell at Jewel, she’s just in as much shock as all of us!’’ 

‘’Well at least you HAVE your girlfriend!’’ 

‘’Well, yeah, because I wasn’t a fucking idiot and decided to almost kill a psychotic trucker on a highway called ‘’slaughter alley!’’

‘’YOU SON OF—’’

‘’You still out there 1 racer?’’

Silence filled the car as that familiar deep brassy southern growl filled the CB channel, right on 12. Jordan scrambled for the mic as his foot eased onto the pedal. Slowing the car’s speed as his index finger hooked around the push-to-talk button. ‘’Yes! Yes–We are still here..’’ Jordan replied back, praying that Rusty didn’t already leave the channel since he lacked any patience. ‘’Ask about her.’’ ‘’Austin–’’ ‘’I said ask!’’ But before Jordan could ask, Rusty beat him to it. ‘’Realll pretty thing you got here Austin..’’ He drawled out, his tone making Jewel shiver with unease. Austin whispered ‘’son of a bitch…’’ Underneath his breath at Rusty’s perverted comment, wanting to snatch that CB radio out of Jordan’s hand and give him a piece of his mind. ‘’She’s real sweet t’me, real nice. Such a shame on how pent up she is.’’

What?

WHAT?! 

‘’GIVE ME THE FUCKING MIC!’’ SKKKRRTTTTT!

‘’AUSTIN! GET BACK–STOP!’’

‘’AUSTIN STOP!’’ Jewel’s hands grasped Austin’s shoulders as she yanked him off of Jordan who just slammed on the brakes to avoid getting in a car accident with the rest of the group who were in the van behind them. The tires glided like butter against the rough road, nearly going into the shoulder of the highway and into the grass before Jordan’s phone buzzed. His tan hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to see a message from an unknown number, his thumb clicked on the sender’s message and was met with a sight nobody wanted to witness. There you were, duct tape around your mouth and wrists, bent down in doggystyle with your ass up in the air. And Rusty behind you, only showing his waist as he fucked his fat cock into your tight cunt. The worst part was it wasn’t even a picture it was a video, and his thumb accidentally graced the sensitive screen and made it play. ‘’Uuugh..Fuckk..’’ Rusty snarled out, his large rough hand violently clenching and groping the fat of your ass as he rammed his thick hips into you. His hairy and fat thighs quivering from when your overstuffed cunt squeezed on him like an octopus's suckers. Your face was laying down against the cold metal of the dimly lit trailer, eyebrows furrowed as every noise was muffled from the thick tape wrapped around your mouth. Long lashes fluttering against your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, ‘’mpppmhp! mphh.. uuuuhh!’’ Came from your duct taped mouth as your body bounced back from the impact and friction Rusty was providing. He was so big and thick, you thought the stretch was over but he kept stretching you with every thrust! Like there was a lot more of him that hadn’t been able to fit in your entrance yet.

Everyone watched in shock and terror, Jewel covered her ears and looked away as Austin just stared. Stared in disbelief, fear, disgust, repulsion, and anger. Here that psychotic lunatic was, dicking down YOU, his girlfriend, all because of a silly prank. Thankfully it was only a clip of that before the video ended, before Jordan could even register what he just witnessed Austin’s hand snatched the receiver angrily and crushed that poor press-to-talk button. ‘’YOU SON OF A BITCH! SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!’’ He snarled like an angry dog, spit flying from his mouth as the veins in his hand and neck pulsed out. His face flushing with anger and humiliation, eyes feral from pure rage. His nostrils were flaring like a bull. ‘’Oh I know that,’’ Rusty chuckled hoarsely, basically mocking Austin back knowing damn well he just stole his girlfriend. ‘’She’s bein’ a good girl and makin’ it up to me. You’ve got such a good girlfriend Austin, well.. You had one.’’

One? What the fuck was that supposed to mean–No. Nonononono! 

‘’She doesn’t love you, you're forcing her to do this!’’ Austin growled back at Rusty, and all Rusty did was laugh. Laugh in his damn face like he was a top tier stand up comedian. ‘’Baby? C’mere honey, show your ex how much you love me..’’ 

‘’A–Austin?’’ You gasped out in a hoarse and meek tone, Austin’s anger momentarily burned out as he heard your voice.’’Baby? Baby–I’m so sorry, this is all my faul–’’ ‘’F,FUCK! RUSTY! UH! UH! UUGGH! ♡’’ Rusty’s canine’s peaked out through his swollen scarred lips as he violently pummeled his 11 inch meaty dick harder in your fluttering pussy, his mix of dark & salty untamed pubes rubbing up roughly against your raw clit. Every tiny hair sticking to you like glue because of how soaked you are, making your inner thighs quiver and you squirm away like you were being tickled by a feather. Rusty’s shaky index finger was wrapped tight around the button as he let them listen to everything, the flesh against flesh, and the loud squelches coming from that pretty hole. ‘’Mmmhm.. My sweet baby, s’ good for me.’’ He purred in your ear as his free hand gently wrapped around your sweaty forehead and moved your head back so he could press a fat smooch on your face. He pressed another, and another, all while praising you so much you literally came from it.

‘’My beautiful angel..’’

‘’Doin’ sooo good for me. ♡’’

‘’Y’know how much Rusty loves you right babygirl? ♡’’

He quickly brought the receiver down so Austin could physically hear you squirt around Rusty’s shaft, every drop leaking from you as it hit the cold trailer floor. Everyone flinched when they heard loud crackling, like a whip was being struck. But it was just Rusty’s hand slapping down on your red ass with loud thwacks, making your poor skin welt up and sculpt the shape of his rough palms. ‘’Fuckin’ cunt doesn’t know how to control herself does she?’’ He snapped, not in disgust or to be a bully.. Nono, in sheer bliss. You could come all night and he’d be the happiest man in the world! He absolutely adored you. 

Austin gaped like a goldfish, eyes wide and heart shattered into a million pieces when he heard you cum for a man other than him. Jordan grabbed the gear shift and put the car in park as he opened the driver's seat door and stepped out to get some fresh air, and Jewel followed around. Everything about this situation felt defiling, disgusting, intimate, and wrong. ‘’You haven’t been takin’ good care of her Austin, if only you could see how tight she’s grippin’ me. Can’t even pull out, I feel like a damn rat in a glue trap.’’ Rusty mocked as his hips did the rest of the talking, one hand viciously pawing your stomach to feel his bulbous tip being buried inside of you hitting that erogenous spot that had your toes clawing at the floor and ankles twisting. Your vagina physically couldn’t handle him, he already surpassed your poor cervix who had given up its protection and walls once it realized he wouldn’t stop trying to breach. He was quite literally fucking your uterus, which should be painful—But fuck it just made him knock the thoughts out of that pretty head. Rusty’s hand reached out beside your head and grabbed the tape he tore off your mouth earlier, it was still sticky enough to function so he wrapped it around the walkie talkie keeping that button down so he didn’t have to manually do it anymore. His now free hand went between your legs and tried stuffing his middle and index into your already painfully stretched cunt, making you squeal like a hog as you tried bucking away. ‘’N–NO! RUSTY! I CAN’T!’’ You cried out as hot tears prickled at your corneas, rolling down your flushed cheeks as he shushed you.

‘’Yeeess you can baby, shhh.. Jus’ ease in.. Be good f’me.’’ He purred as he dragged his blunt nail around your soaked folds, trying to get you to loosen up. Which was impossible by the way because he wouldn’t stop jackhammering his shaft into you, it felt like a train that couldn’t fit through an entrance. He shifted his fingers and stretched you out with his rough finger tips, an impressed smile tugging at his face as he kept twisting his fingers like a key. ‘’mmPHm! aaah! AUGH!’’ You squealed when he started sinking in his long fingers, every centimeter of his digit causing you to loudly wail. Stuffing you with his cock and now his fingers, all the way to the knuckle. ‘’Oooo… Look at that, my babygirl can take me so good..’’ Rusty cooed, eyes pin pointed and locked down onto your pelvis as he scissored your leaky kitty and hammered you harder. 

‘’Turn it off..’’ Austin muttered to nobody, ‘’I SAID TURN IT OFF!’’ He yelled in pure anger as he grabbed the cord to the CB and yanked it out off the goddamn ratio, but that didn’t stop the noises. ‘’FUCK!’’ He cried out as his hand practically yanked the knob and turned it off. Filling the tense environment with pure silence.

Rusty heard static come from the CB and he smiled internally, this was exactly what he was going for. To enrage Austin enough to turn against the others and destroy the CB so they were forced to find other means of communication.. His thumb slid to your bundle and rolled rough circles on it, listening to you hiccup and whimper like a fawn. He hisses like a bobcat, teeth grinding down against each other as his eyes fluttered shut and his head rolled back. A gasp punching out of him when his knees scraped against the floor bracing for impact, his chubby belly jolted when you tried to wring him out. His burly shoulders locking up as his trapezius muscles tightened, ‘’oooh–oooh, fuckfuckfuckkk…’’ He whimpered out, pace growing frantic and urgent as his fingers slid out with an audible pop. Both hands groping the fat of your hips as he pulverized your poor jiggling body into his. ‘’HAAA! UH! RUSTY!’’ When you downright screamed his name in pure unadulterated bliss his mouth gaped, eyes rolling into the back of his skull as thick tendrils of hot cum flooded your uterus like a tsunami. 

PLAP, PLAP, PLLAAAAPP!

His back arched as he raised his knees a bit to fuck every gallon of cum down your cunt, lifting your hips so nothing even had the chance of leaking out. Thrashing at your binds, absolutely losing your shit around his dick as your pussy freaked out. Having a goddamn stroke on him with every violent flutter and greedy clench, accepting every drop he had to offer. He rolled his hips in a small circle to literally paint your insides, making like a painter and getting rid of any pink and making everything white in you. ‘’UCK!’’ He collapsed on top of you, hands going to your tied up ones and interlocking his hands between your weak fingers. Head resting against your shoulder as he pressed his head right into yours like a cat, panting loudly in your ear as he kept filling you up. He never did stop coming, hell he was literally squirting in you. Ensuring by the end of this night he’d need to run to the dollar tree to get a pregnancy test for you.

‘’Mhmp.. Baby, are you okay?’’ He grumbled out, shifting his head so he could press a smooch right underneath your ear as one of his hands undid themselves from your own. Brushing away your wet hair from your face, I mean.. You just blacked out for a good 8 minutes and couldn’t remember your name. And your whole nervous system was utterly shot. ‘’m,mhmh..’’ He just barely heard from your sore throat as a chuckle escaped him, he carefully pulled out. Which almost gave him enough to keep going from realizing just how deep he was. Pulling out to watch every fat inch of him slowly come out, his hand quickly covered your cunt to keep his fertile cum from escaping as he grabbed your torn underwear he ripped from your body. Sliding them up your dead legs and over your pelvis, literally gaping at the sight of seeing the lace become white from his cum leaking onto it and through the fabric. He put himself together before picking you up bridal style, a fat smooch going right on your forehead as you were barely on planet earth.

You were a lump in his arms, not being able to register him grabbing his camera perched up on a tripod exactly pointed on where you just laid. Ending the recording as he walked out of the trailer, it bounced from the heavy load it just carried. He carried you to his sleeper and gently put you inside and tucked you in, sliding a pillow between your legs as extra protection before going back to his driver's seat..

Rain filled the cars silence with light tapping against the windows. The two sat in utter silence, Scarlett staring off mindlessly out of the window and her friend focused on the road ahead. "Hey look." She gestures up ahead earning the attention of her friend. "Can we stop here for a while? I'm dying for a drink." Without missing a beat, her friend pulls up parking by some other cars in front of the bar.

"Sure, I've been needing a piss anyway."

"Why didn't you just pull over for one earlier?"

She receives a certain look from her friend in response before the awkward moment I'd dismissed and they both step out of the car. At the same time a truck pulls up, parking as her friend tucks away the car keys. On the way in, Scarlett holds the heavy door open for the man behind them. Before he walks straight past she receives a small nod out of recognition, the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne lingering on him as he went past.

She couldn't stop looking over her shoulder back at him. The trucker leaned back in one of the worn out booths, two empty beers settled on front of him and the 3rd one in his hand. With his cap tilted down and the lighting dim, his face remained obscured adding to the mystery to his presence and the curiosity hanging over her. Sure it wasnt suprsing for truckers to come and go, especially to a bar on the side of the road but something seemed different about this one. "Scarlett." Suddenly her friend appears and leans casually against the counter, getting her attention with a light shoulder shake. She turns back giving a absentminded nod and a "Mhm?". "I'm headin' off back home, you coming?". The silence is brief before she shakes her head. A few more drinks couldn't hurt, she'll just hitchhike her way back home. In defence of staying, the past couple of days has been undeniably rough with the workload her boss dropped onto her shoulders and general life. With the shrug of her friends shoulders, she makes her way out without another word leaving Scarlett alone nursing a half empty glass of whiskey.

In a slow repetitive motion, his thumb rubs carefully against the scarred skin of his knuckles, eyeing up the woman across the bar. Now on her own. A minute or two passes and seeing as she's still alone, he rises from the booth. Settiling a few seconds later into the stool besides her. He catches the way she tries to discreetly sneak a peak as he speaks, his deep rumbling voice catching her interest. The order is just another beer, a budweiser this time. "What's your name darling?" Without turning his head, he can feel her eyes, the way she pauses nervously before speaking. "Scarlett."

"Pretty name. Rolls off the tounge nicely." He then repeats the name back, as if testing it out. Warmth pools in her abdomen, staring a bit more shamelessly at his toneless expression. Sure his eyes were still mostly obscured but this close up it was easier to see the lower half of his face. "What's your name?" After a swig of the beer, he settles down the bottle and tilts his head towards her direction. "Names Rusty nail." She nods along despite the odd name, just accepting it for now. He then continues on to gesture behind him back at the door before speaking. "Motels few minutes away if your interested?". Normally she'd decline a strangers advances, but that voice stirred something in the pit of her abdomen. Inclining her enough to accept with a quick nod.

Back at the motel, he wasted no time tugging down and tossing her panties aside. Pressing his palm against her pussy, rubbing firmly as she rubbed at his straining hard on. Soon sliding down onto his knees as she settled down on the edge of the bed, pushing her legs wide and pressing face first into her core. Slowly, his tounge dragged across her slit, leaving behind a sloppy trail of saliva. His hand trembled excitedly parting her folds to get another dragged out lick this time at her clit whilst his cap is knocked off aside and her hand runs through his hair, grasping and tugging at it. She whined as he repeatedly pressed his tounge flat against her clit, letting out a deep groan against her pussy. Pulling back after a few minutes to watch the wriggling of her hips as he violently toyed with her clit and pressed his digits against the g spot. The moaning becoming more needy as she came close to Cumming before whining at the loss of stimulation as he slides his fingers out.

You weren't upset with him, far from it, you were upset with yourself for being so codependent on this man. He brought out a side to you that you didn't know existed, and you were starting to feel that feeling in the pit of your stomach whenever you began to think of Rusty. It would lead from missing him and wondering what he was thinking, to wondering if he'd ever let you fuck him in his truck. You sure hoped he would at some point, you needed to ride him while he was in that seat of his–

“Oh god,” you grumbled and stood up from the chair, then you decided it was best to go and take a shower. Wash away your sinful thoughts, that's what you needed to do. You pulled yourself away from the room and weaved your way around to the shared room you had, then rummaged through the closet, your mind desperately trying to bury the thoughts you were having. 

The trickling of water felt great as soon as it hit your body, your muscles relaxed under the warmth of it, so you cranked it up just a little more to get the temperature just a bit higher. A smile grew across your face as the water soaked your hair, ran down your back, and you stood there to allow yourself just a few moments to gather your thoughts. But as soon as you closed your eyes, his face was there. You could imagine him walking into the bathroom as soon as he heard the water start running, opening the door, and just leaning against the frame, because he’d know you heard him, so you’d peek out. 

“What’re you up to, sugar?” 

You’d scoff and look up at him as you peeked through the shower curtain meekly. “Taking a shower, why?”

“Just wonderin’ why you didn’t invite me in.”

Rusty was like that sometimes; he would want to be wherever you were, wanting to touch you in every place he possibly could reach. You weren’t opposed to it, you encouraged it even, but something about his gentle touch when he was in one of those moods always made you feel empty without him here. Your fingertips ghosted over your lips and slid down to your neck -his favorite spot to kiss you- as you stood beneath the running water still, smiling to yourself. 

The impure thoughts that took over your mind were willing you to slide those fingers lower and lower, smiling as your eyes remained closed until you gently dipped them between your legs. Your vivid memory of the way his large, calloused hands handled you so well flooded back, and the way he curled those two fingers into that sweet spot made you buckle at the knees. Yours weren’t as good as his, but they’d get the job done. You let out a small moan, your breath hitched as you pictured Rusty pinning you against the cold tiles of the shower. 

“Easy there, girl, you’re so eager. Gonna take my time with you.”

Just thinking about his deep voice as smooth as pouring a glass of whiskey, it tickled your brain in the right ways when he spoke you through everything he did. Most times he'd tease you, edging you to the point you were a shaking, sobbing mess. Other times, he would talk you through it and watch you as your face contorted from feeling pure bliss to feeling complete frustration.  

“Please, Rusty, I wanna cum so bad,” you'd whine. 

“Oh you will if I let'cha,” he'd respond smoothly, knowing you couldn't do much to change his mind. 

Your head leaned back as the water sprayed down your chest, you couldn't help but grab your breast and squeeze it, playing gently with your hardened nipple. God, you needed him so badly, and you wondered when he'd be back home, back in your bed. You wanted to feel his mouth between your legs, feeling the way his facial hair rubbed against the inside of your thighs sent you into a frenzy every time, and he knew what to do to get you to cum on command. 

You wished he was here to pick you up and place you in the bed, but you had to make due until he came back. With a sigh, you removed your fingers from yourself and washed them off, then stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around you. The sting of sadness set in a little as you shuffled to the large bed in the center of the master bedroom, seeing how painfully empty his side was. He was already gone for a couple of weeks, and it had been a while since you last called to check on him, so maybe you would do that to ease your loneliness. But you felt so pent up and needed to feel a release in one way or another, so maybe you'd call afterward. 

As you crawled into the middle of your bed, you laid on your back and sprawled out, one leg lifted as you placed your fingers between your already slick folds, thinking of the large, rough man of your dreams. He would know how to take care of you, it's like he was easily attuned to your needs and what you preferred, and his fingers fit so well into your hole. You moaned out softly, your body moved as you rolled against your hand, wanting to feel his thick digits stretching you so well. The room was filled with your moans and wet sounds from between your legs, and you pulled those mental images to mind that made you want to descend into your orgasm, already so eager to feel the sweet relief so you could finally relax. 

What you hadn't been paying attention to was the front door opening and closing. 

Rusty had tried to call you twice, but your phone was still sitting in your office space beside the book you were reading, so you had no indication that Rusty was going to surprise you by coming back a little earlier than expected. He heard your moan from downstairs, his ears perked up and tuned into his surroundings. At first, he was a little worried by your lack of reaching out, but it seemed he'd caught you at the perfect time. He was missing you while he was away, and he already felt the growing excitement in his jeans. Slowly but surely, he made his way up the stairs, making sure he didn't tip you off just yet, and the sounds coming from you only sounded more enticing the closer he’d gotten. 

He had finally got to the doorway and he peeked inside, watching as you lay there spread out on your shared bed, touching yourself as your eyes were squeezed shut. You were pumping your fingers in and out, curling into that sweet spot as you moaned out Rusty's name over and over, wishing he was there to take care of you. It was hard for him to keep watching and do nothing, he had to have you, he couldn't wait for much longer.

His large hand slowly pushed the door open as you continued, no sound came from the hinges which would have given away his position. Instead, he stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with one arm keeping him in place while the other slid into his front pocket. Damn, you looked good like this, he was always a watcher, but never to this degree. 

“Well, damn, if I woulda known you were havin’ fun without me, I woulda came home sooner,” he said suddenly, his voice still low and deep. 

Your eyes snapped open as you removed your fingers from yourself, the sudden shock of the fear of being caught electrified your nerves. But after the initial shock, you stared up at him and smiled with a hint of embarrassment. 

“R-Rusty! You're home!” You wanted to run to him to greet him, but your soaked hand kept you from doing so. “You're back early.”

He stepped up toward the bed, his head cocked to the side as his hands managed to find his belt as he began to undo it. “Well, I wanted to surprise you, but it seems you surprised me first. What'chu doin’?” 

Your face was most definitely red as you closed your legs, poorly hiding the fact that You were just touching yourself. “Uh, I was just… I was thinking of you all day, I was missing you… and I got caught up…” You confessed with a blush in your cheeks. 

“Missin’ me that much means a lot to little ol’ me, sugar.” He stepped up to the edge of the bed and without missing a beat, he grabbed your legs and pulled you toward him, which caused you to yelp out a little in surprise, but you were now face to face with him. He smiled down at you beneath the brim of his aging trucker hat, his eyes bore deep into yours. “Havin’ all the fun without me, ain't you?”

“I wasn't having that much fun, I was wishing you were here with me,” you explained, staring up at the large man. “But… you're here now, and well, I haven't finished…”

“Oh, so you want me to help you with that, huh?” He asked with a smirk, his large hands still resting on your ankles. “And so what if I do help you?” He asked playfully. “What do I get out of this if you finish?”

You knew he wanted you just as bad as you needed him, and he wanted you to work for it now that he caught you in the act. 

“Couldn't keep those pretty little fingers away, just had to get impatient, huh?” He chuckled as he lowered his body onto you, massive in size compared to you. 

You bit your lip as you reached up for his neck, wanting to play with the hair that peeked out from beneath the hat. He stopped just above you, hovering enough that if you were to lean up, he would be just out of reach. “Rusty, kiss me, please?”

He just chuckled in response, that smile you fell for immediately peeking from beneath the hat. “Oh I don't think so, you gotta earn that, sweetheart.”

You were about to whine in protest, just wanting to dote on the man now that he was back, but you barely had time to recover when he lowered his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing it and biting at your sensitive flesh that was oh-so close to your heat. The gasp that escaped was loud and sharp, but you soon turned into a whining mess the more he teased you. 

“Rustyyyyy~” You whined as you tugged at his hair, causing the hat to shift and fall off to the side of the bed. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it.”

“You mean you didn't mean to get caught, is that it?” 

Your face was flushed at the realization that he was right, you meant to pleasure yourself but wanted to get it out of the way so you could hold off a while longer for him to get home. 

“Been so greedy ever since you were fucked,” he huffed and lowered his mouth back onto your thigh. “Give you a taste and now you're fuckin’ cock hungry.”

His lips kissed your slick folds over and over, just missing the mark of paying attention to your throbbing clit, and you swallowed a pathetic whimper that died in your throat as soon as he plunged two of his fingers into you. You hissed at the feeling of those calloused digits, curling into you and causing your walls to flutter around him. Your back arched as you rolled your hips into his hand, feeling that sweet friction that hit you in just the right way, you wanted to cry with how much you've missed him. 

“Oh my god, Rusty, please, keep going…” you sighed, your lead lolled off to the side as you removed the towel from your top half, and then you began to massage your breast as he kissed and touched you.

“You better not cum till I tell you to,” he warned in that deep honeyed voice. “Else you ain't gettin’ what you want.”

“I-I don't know if I can hold back–”

“Then you better learn real quick, sweetheart, you ain't gonna like the punishment you get if you don't.” 

You loved when he urged you, spoke to you like he did, the gravelly voice he got with you was so sexy that you could have fun just listening to him talk. You shifted and couldn't help but continue to fuck yourself on his hand, whimpering as you were stretched so good with just his fingers. Rusty then slid his tongue around, coating it in your wetness as he continued to finger you, gently playing with your clit. He sucked at it, watching as you went from a whiney mess to a blubbering mess. You twitched and your body jolted, feeling that intense pleasure on your clit, getting the friction you so desperately craved. 

“Oh, fuck, Rusty! Please!” you begged, your knees shaking as he held one of your legs up behind your knee. 

You urged him to continue, so he obliged and removed his fingers, to which you cried at the loss of feeling him inside of you. But now those had been replaced with that broad tongue, lapping away at your essence, wanting to taste the sweetheart he so desired in his absence. You could feel his facial hair scratch and tickle at your thighs, the overwhelming feeling of his stubble, his tongue, and his large hand gripping at your leg so hard was a lot to handle while your orgasm was building. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck–” You were at a loss for words with how well you were being treated, you'd loved how he got you so sinfully wet.

Rusty smiled as he brought his lips up to your aching nub and began to swirl his tongue around it before he began to suck at it. You cried out and thrust your hips upward, pushing yourself further against his mouth as if you could get him any closer to you, all while your hands were clutching at the comforter beneath you. 

You were so close to feeling a sweet release until his mouth harshly pulled away from you, leaving you feeling empty and aching. “Rusty, no! W-Why would you do that?”

“Told you you couldn't cum without my say so, and as much as I wanna taste you, I want you to cum while I'm inside you,” he explained, followed by a dark chuckle. 

It didn't take him long to crawl back toward you, one hand guiding himself to push against your folds, his head pushing against your clit. You squirmed and rocked against him, trying to feel him slide against your lips, just wanting anything more than the emptiness you felt right now. 

Your eyes closed, your brow furrowed, and you moaned every time he pushed against you just enough to feel just a little relief only to pull away again, and it was driving you insane. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him with a look of pure frustration. 

“Rusty, pleaseeeee,” you begged him again, but you regretted doing so as soon as he pulled away from you. “Wait, what are–” 

He pushed himself up, then with a quick turn and an arm slung around your waist, you flew up against him, landing against his chest as he quickly positioned himself so you were straddling his lap as he sunk into the mattress. 

“Told you, sweetheart, you're gonna work for it.”

Your lips suddenly felt dry as you could feel his hard cock twitch beneath you. He was giving you the chance to ride him, how could you refuse him this? Your hands hold onto his shoulders to gain some leverage as you move yourself a little higher, allowing yourself to line up perfectly with him. Slowly you sunk onto him, the girth of his cock stretched you so well, it made you let out such a low sigh as your entire body shivered with the feeling of how much you needed this. 

“Oh my god, Rusty,” you groan out, your hands still placed on his shoulders. “Fuck, missed you so much while you were gone.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a wicked smirk, his hands gripped your waist as he pushed himself deeper inside of you until he bottomed out, and then those calloused fingers slid down to your thighs. 

Your hands immediately reached up and snaked through his hair, grabbing and pulling at it as his hands held you by your ass, allowing you to bounce on his cock at your own speed, but he could easily change that in an instant if he decided to. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him, but he leaned back a little and smiled, chuckling at the disapproval plastered across your face. 

“Told you sugar, you gotta earn that. Need you to cum on me first, now start movin’,” he huffed as he leaned back against the pillow, watching you with interest as you began to bounce on him. 

He helped a little, lifting you every so often to get you to fall harder into his lap, your skin slapping in a beautiful rhythm as you cried out his name over and over again, but your voice hitched when he slipped his hand between the both of you to rub his thumb against your clit. Your fingers clasped the back of his head and neck, your nails grazing his skin while he continued to gauge your reaction. 

“Oh fuck, Rusty-” you gasp.

His thumb rubbed in increasingly tighter albeit sloppy circles, and that only caused the pleasant tingle between your legs to grow with a deeper intensity. Rusty then pressed the pad of his thumb harshly against your throbbing nub while he thrusted his hips upward at the same time, watching you as you were coming undone as he watched you intensely. 

“Yeah, you’re doin’ a good job there, wonder if I should let you cum now…” He chuckled as he saw your eyes roll back once he jerked his hips upward, hitting that spot in such a delicious manner.

“Please, oh my god, PLEASE-”

“Please what, sweetheart?” 

You shivered and bit your lip, wanting to stifle your moan so you could form a singular sentence. “Please, I wanna cum so bad. Please, let me cum…”

Rusty’s grip tightened as his smile widened. “Atta girl, love hearin’ you beg for it.” His hand pulled away from your possibly bruised hip as he reached up, his massive palm now wrapped around your throat as he pounded into you harder, faster, all while still stimulating your clit. 

You cried out, your whines and moans drowned out by the blasphemous sounds that came from your slick-soaked pussy. He relished in the sounds you made, you knew he wanted you to be as vocal as you possibly could, even in public when he would make sure you knew who you belonged to. His hands released your throat and moved away from your clit, then slid around to rest on your ass, gripping your cheeks hard as he began to fuck himself into you. He’d give you the release you so desperately craved, and the release he needed to lose himself in being away from you for all that time. 

“Rusty, I won’t be able to hold it...” you warned through gritted teeth, your hands resting firmly on his chest as you clawed your nails against his skin. 

“Guess I could let you cum on me, then,” Rusty offered through his heaving breath, still smiling up at you. 

Several more hard thrusts against your aching cunt and you were going to be ruined in his lap, you cried out while he continued to plow into you, making you take every inch you could of him as your body tensed and finally released that pleasure. You couldn’t even take the time to ride out your orgasm, Rusty was relentless and continued to take you at his unyielding pace, wanting to be able to cum deep inside of you. His thighs tensed with each roll of his hips, his body straining beneath you as your walls clenched around him.

Rusty wrapped his arms around your waist and buried himself to the hilt inside of you, coming hard as spurts of his hot seed coated your insides, his deep honeyed voice released a guttural growl as he gripped you hard. It throbbed as he held you in place, but you were too tired to move much anyway, so you allowed him to use you as he deemed fit as you lay limp in his arms.

You were both straining to catch your breath as you both lay there, your body now collapsed on top of him while his arms released the firm grip on your waist and just draped over you gently. Your head was resting on his shoulder as you attempted to catch your breath, and Rusty just lay there with his hand stroking your hair softly, rewarding you for your good behavior with the softness only you really got to see. He wouldn’t force you off after, he enjoyed the affection you showered him with during moments like these, so he allowed you to remain splayed on top of him. 

“That was amazing…” You sighed happily, your eyes closed as you listened to his heart beating. You couldn’t find the heart to pull away from him, even if he’d been gone for a while, you just wanted to enjoy it with him, no matter how brief. 

His arms wrapped around you as if to give you a hug that he hadn’t thought of giving you till that very moment, so you moved your head lazily to look up at him, your chin resting against his chest. “You still haven’t given me that kiss yet,” you huffed and pushed out your bottom lip. 

Rusty just let out a low chuckle as he always did, but he pushed himself up and slid his hand around your neck, tangling in the sweat-soaked hairs as he pulled you into a heated kiss. When you pulled away, you smiled up at him and felt content with everything in the world now. 

“Missed you, too, sugar. Next time you’re feelin’ lonely like that, I suggest you call me up.”

“And how will that help me exactly?” 

Ik this is my besties headcanon but I don't think hell care "definitely into that brat thing"

I think this is obvious but bro is really into hyper femm people I mean u remember what bro did to Nick and bro was a little to happy

If your AFAB he's a titty man but if your amab ass man

Secretly loves it more when he gives oral

lowkey only hurries up from his haul when he’s horny to just see you

Loves to bite during sex

When I guess if u took you he’ll make you stay in the barn type thing and fondle you

Ik this is weird but if you are to loud during sex he’ll put oldies on cus they get loud on like a low volume (ik this cus I like that type of music)

Steals undergarments from you and jerk with them

LOVES MATING PRESS AND FULL NELSON (I think that’s how u spell it)

Loves to hold you after sex

If he’s in public and he can’t find you anywhere you’ll be hear him talk about it during sex and lowkey getting more aggressive during it

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's very affectionate, peppering kisses along your flushed face and caressing the dips and curves of your body as you're fighting to catch a breath after his vigorous fucking love making.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His hands are his favorite instrument, large enough to wrap around your throat and squeeze until his veins protrude from the force. He loves every dip and curve of your body, not knowing where to start because of how obsessed he is with your fragility and softness. He also loves how easily you bruise, a smug grin forming in his face when he sees his marks of ownership scattered all over you.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He's a big man with an equally big set of balls and dick. When he cums, it's in copious amounts and he always makes sure to come inside, ignoring your distressed cries and your hands pushing against him when you feel the sudden heat in your spasming walls. He licks your tears away, grinding his hips further into your puffy pussy to make sure none of his cum escapes your womb.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He read books by Nicholas Sparks and liked them. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's very experienced. He prioritizes your pleasure over his because he loves seeing you come apart under his ministrations. Once you're twitching from the neverending pleasure, does he spread you wide and spears you with his cock in one smooth thrust. He listens very intently at every little gasp and moan escaping your lips so he can discover the rhythm and technique your most vocal on.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His favorite position is cowgirl. He loves seeing how shy and nervous you get when you're hovering over him, licking his lips in anticipation when your pussy presses down on his engorged cock. He lets you go at your own pace, fighting the urge to thrust his hips up as you're slowly taking him inch by inch until your pelvises smack lewdly against each other. It is when your legs grow tired and your movement goes sluggish, that he takes charge and brings you down to clash with every upward thrust into your welcoming pussy. His eyes roam greedily between your sexes smashing violently together and your fucked out expression every time his cock kisses your cervix.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He enjoys teasing you, especially knowing how flustered you get when he whispers dirty things to you. Lacking any sexual experience prior to him, your face quickly gets heated and you can’t look him in the eye when he’s promising to drown in your pussy and fuck you until the bed breaks. If he's feeling humorous, he might start to tickle you to get you to smile and shriek to make you forget your embarrassment at his words.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a hairy man. His hair grows rather quickly so he needs to shave often, but he prefers to trim instead of shaving anything off fully. The hairs on his chest often tickle your nose when you're laying on him and the raspiness of his beard leaves a pleasant tingle behind on your skin when he kisses your cheeks. You have to look away when he stretches, his happy trail bringing memories of how deep you’ve had him in your throat, your nose pressed right against his pubic hair and smelling his manly musk before he proceeded to face fuck you to oblivion.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He wasn't always kind to you. Your refusal to accept your place as his beloved had forced him to be the bad guy early on in your relationship. However, after months of secluding you from any form of contact besides his, you've become dependent on him and jump into his arms when he releases you from your prison in the basement. As he's stroking your back and hugging your hiccupping form, he hushes your whimpers with sweet murmurs of never leaving you like the people that abandoned their search for you long ago. When he’s making love to you upstairs in his bedroom, he confesses his feelings for you and worships every inch of you with his mouth and hands. He will make sure you would be protected and loved by him and him alone. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He tries not to think about you while on the road because of how easily just the thought of you makes him hard under his pants. When explicit memories of you won’t leave him, he grumbles in frustration and tries to find somewhere secluded to rub one out. Once he’s parked his vehicle, he opens his glove compartment to find the piece of cloth he tore from you earlier that day. He then pleasures himself while sniffing the remnants of your cum soaked panties, shuddering at the musky scent and envisioning your pussy wrapped around him and your mouth begging him for more. 

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

The man has a breeding and lactation kink. He often places a pillow under you so his cum can stay in place inside your unprotected womb and sucks on your nipples to the point of pain imagining you plump with his baby and leaking milk into his mouth. 

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

He'll have sex with you just about anywhere. He particularly enjoys doing it in his truck, reclining his seat back to watch you bounce up and down on his fat cock in the middle of nowhere, dirty praises trickling past his lips about how much of a pretty slut you are for him and how good he'll give it to you later at home. He loves having you for dessert when he gets home from work (and killing) too, kneeling under the table in the kitchen to eat you out as you're struggling to eat the food you cooked for him while he gnaws at your clit and folds.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

It's your skittish behavior and the way you bite your lip when he's near you that drives him crazy. Despite your stubbornness not to give in to his lecherous hands, he has you bent over before you can voice out a protest. He runs his fingers lightly along your trembling legs, eyeing the way your soaked panties cling to your vulva and asking what you want him to do to you. If you stay silent for too long, he’ll lean down and threaten to leave you as you are, pressing his hardened cock between your cheeks all the while. Just as he’s about to pull away, you push your hips back and look at him pleadingly. You’re still too shy to tell him what you want so you’ll open your legs wider hoping he catches your drift. He’d want to tease you further but even he has a limit. Your panties are torn off and the clink of a belt is heard right before the room is filled with wet smacks of flesh and breathless cries and grunts echoing throughout the house. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never share you. He'd kill any man or woman who dared touch what was his. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Over the years, he entertained himself with a few lot lizards and learned how to perfect his technique with each encounter. By the time he met you, he knew exactly where to kiss, lick and suck to have you creaming in his mouth within minutes. He's never tasted a pussy as good as yours and will often eat you out for long periods of time, ignoring the way you're tugging on his hair to try to remove him from your overstimulated clit and quivering walls.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Depending on how well behaved you are, he can make it slow and sweet for you. He prefers his sex fast and rough, but will be gentle when your sex is sore from the poundings he gave it. However, his gentleness goes out the window when you start acting rebellious again. If you disobey him and try running away, he will catch you and  fuck you in a rage until your crying and begging for forgiveness. He'll fuck you like a bull all night until you pass out from exhaustion. You'll wake up alone and locked inside the basement again, what little freedom you had earned gone in an instant.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He's not a particular fan of quickies because he likes to take his time with you. He enjoys seeing how your will chips away with every stroke of his hands, mouth, and cock, your body fighting against your mind to reach its climax and forcing you to cry out for him after the pleasure becomes too much for you. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Considering how creative he is when torturing his victims, you can bet he’s just as creative in the bedroom. He's a bit of a sadist and will be curious to find out what your limits and pain tolerance is. He smiles at you when you freeze at the rope and chains he has in his hands. You’ll cry out when he handles you none-too-gently, having little time to protect yourself when he wraps a hand around your throat and forces the other down your panties. He’ll tighten his hold on your neck, wheezes and choked gasps escaping you as your eyes beseech him for mercy. In the midst of this punishment, you are horrified to feel your arousal spike, strands of your slick running down your legs as he fingerfucks you roughly. Once he finds out how much you can take, he will subject you to the same painful pleasure at a later date.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s only human and has to suffer through a refractory period so he makes sure you cum multiple times before he does. He is able to accomplish this by pumping his fingers inside your pussy, stimulating your g spot while he is forcing his tongue down your throat to muffle your mewls. He’ll have you cumming on his fingers within minutes, allowing you to witness him licking the residue of your orgasm before trailing his body down to the juncture of your thighs. He’ll bury his face in your cunt, holding you in place with one hand on your stomach and stroking himself with the other. Once he’s successfully made you cum again, does he line himself up along your soaked entrance. It is a challenge not to cum once his cock is enveloped by your heat, your walls constricting like a vice around him and making him grit his teeth to prevent himself from spilling inside you too soon. He’ll pump his hips slowly at first, trying to adjust to your gummy insides and closing his eyes in concentration. His careful pace gets shot down to hell when your heels brace on the bed, tilting your hips up and colliding with his next downward thrust. He opens his eyes startled, taking one good look at your disheveled appearance and your chest heaving in a tantalizing fashion before he grabs on to the headboard and slams his hips down in one meaty smack. Within a few moments, you orgasm two more times and your head is lolling to the side by the time he fills you with his cum.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

While he does use restraints on you, he does not own any toys. He's aware of their existence but has never really thought of using them on you. He's confident in his ability to bring you pleasure by his touch alone. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As was said before, he enjoys teasing you due to your inexperience with sex. His sexual innuendos and jokes make you fidget and squirm where you’re at. No matter how often he’s fucked you, he can never seem to rid you of your embarrassment when you’re both naked and touching each other intimately. It amuses him how cute you are, removing his shirt purposely in front of you before tackling you down playfully on the bed to begin teasing you further.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He'll grit his teeth to lessen his gasps and groans, preferring to hear the sweet symphony of your pleasured cries and moans instead. He'll hide his face on your neck, bracing his knees on the bed before pummeling you hard enough to make the bed creak and your voice rise with each snap of his hips. Heated puffs and throaty moans would spill from him once your walls constricted around him and coaxed him to cum inside your warm heat. 

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It was a passing conversation he heard between truckers on the cb radio while he was driving. One of them mentioned how he and his lady kept their sex life interesting and alive for so many years. They did this by role-playing and wearing salacious outfits to spice up the sex. Rusty listened on to the conversation, his mind conjuring up images of you dressing up as a scantily clad nurse or maid, waiting to treat him and service him in any way he desired. It was another trucker’s similar experience but with pet play that had him stunned. A flux of images of you on your knees in cow print lingerie and a collar around your neck stormed his brain, triggering his lactation kink and imagining you whining about the fullness of your chest and needing his help to ease the hurt. That night, he didn’t give you a chance to welcome him home. He ripped your clothes off in a frenzy, paying special attention to your tits while you let out confused moans not knowing what’s gotten into him. He fucked you especially hard, your sweaty bodies colliding violently as his silent determination to get you pregnant echoed like a mantra in his head. 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Being well over 6 feet tall, the dick must match the man. The first time you saw it in its entirety, you had quickly slammed your legs shut out of fear. Now you knew why you were always so sore. His cock bobbed out in the open, the weight of it nearly dragging it down as he walked purposefully towards you on the bed. It took very little effort to spread your legs, slapping your hands away when you tried to hide your sex from him. A gasp left you when the heavy weight of his cock slapped on your pubic mound, the length of it reaching your belly button as you lay frozen in place. You could feel it throbbing angrily along your soft belly, your pussy twitching like crazy as you imagined it splitting you open.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive nearly kills you. He's always ready to go and he is not ashamed to grind his erection against your ass so you can feel how much he wants you. Even after he cums, he will continue to play with your body, ensuring you’re always ready for him once he gets hard again. 

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Once he is completely spent, he's a heavy sleeper. It's hard to get out of his arms when the brute barely feels you squirming and continues to snore softly above your head. You have to bite him to get him to wake up.

A/N: Believe it or not, writing this killed me. Next time I make one of these, I'm only doing certain letters of the alphabet, not the whole thing 💀. Anyways, I hope you guys really enjoyed this! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated 🫶!

Aand I've got a nice treat for my followers to go with this writing~🖤

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𓉸 “ this is what happens when you tease him and theres no where to make a pit stop , hes just gotta fuck you on the grass (..◜ᴗ◝..) ”

𓉸 “ cuddles on his couch ! ”

𓉸 “ hes got you squirting everywhere !! (ᵕ•_•) ”

𓉸 “ if you call him daddy . . you may not walk for a while . . ”

𓉸 * CNC “ fucking you in the back of the trailer ”

𓉸 “ if youre not riding with him , this is how he kisses you goodbye ”

𓉸 “ hes gotta give you his nightly lovin’ ! ”

𓉸 “ rusty cant help teasing you about how you cant be without him for more than a day without fingering yourself til you squirt on his side of the bed ! “

𓉸 “ you can never watch tv together because this is how it ends . every . time . ”

You hummed in response, draining the sink after finishing with some dishwashing. You looked back towards the living room with a harmless tilt of your head. “But you should know I like it when it’s you doing it.”

Drying your hands with a towel by the sink, you turned with an honest smile as you could see him from the other room. Leaning against the edge of the counter with your front on display, you found the cutest pair of pajamas you owned after a much needed shower. He looked at you unflinching, and you sighed, “You’ve only seen me naked a thousand times, right? Think I can show off a bit for a hardworking man who treats me like a princess.”

Though he was splaying his legs slightly, he kept a still expression. You didn’t often see that chin pointed anywhere but down and the resting, sturdy frown sway. While you’d fawn over him regardless, you could tell it was a mechanism used when he was contemplating. Some people didn’t recognize that, thinking he wasn’t one of deep thought and even feelings – but you knew better.

Taking a breath, one hand slid over his thigh and patted it. That was all you needed to push off the counter behind you, towel set back where it belonged and easing through to the other room. Eagerly creeping around the coffee table and careening in an almost clumsy lean into his lap, you were already keening to a large palm on the small of your back, inching closer as he got a better look at you.

There had been a strong, leaping hug when he had got home earlier that afternoon, your delight as clear as you could’ve made it to have him back after a haul. Now, the natural satisfaction of having real contact was taking form. You almost seemed scared to touch at first, but the surface of that otherwise stoic face broke as he felt your hand snake to hug from the side, clinging to the back of his shirt as you nearly tucked yourself against him. He responded with his arm curling further around, holding your hip and another deep breath of fondness, relief washing over both of you.

“Sweet girl,” He spoke with a vulnerable hush to his voice that had you readjusting to straddle him. Careful at first with your own weight, he only responded with his paws on your haunches; holding you upright as you couldn’t press any closer within moments, that one little encouragement to take the mile. He could probably bench press you if he wanted, but you still minded the man as you would anyone else. Your chest to his, he held the small of your back and took a breath to look into your eyes.

An expressionless man with a woman full of them made for one hell of a push and pull. He knew there was no hiding in the twitch of your brow and flicker between eye contact and looking at your own hands that settled on his shoulders despite a tendency to stay quiet.

“Go on, use your words.” He held the backs of your upper thighs, framing your backside for a moment as your eyes stayed on his chest. “Know you got something goin’ on up there.” When you looked back at him, he smirked for a moment, lines at the corners of his eyes that utterly charmed you since the first time you got the privilege to see his smile.

Your mouth opened, then closed again as you scoffed at your own embarrassment. “I just…I missed you.” Your head came down, settling against his shoulder. “Know you gotta work, but it just felt like a long time between the last time we were together and now. Don't know what I want to say first. Honest.”

“If I could put you in my pocket and take you where I needed to? Make my life a whole lot easier.” He groaned, a hand coming up to gently squeeze the back of your neck. You responded with pulling your own arms up around his in a hug.

“What would you do if we got to spend some time on the road together?”

He quirked his brow at you, smiling against his jaw as he adjusted. “What would I do?” He repeated, and he squeezed your neck again with a different kind of firmness to it. “I suppose I’d start with makin’ sure you were comfortable, taken well care of for a long haul with me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Don’t need you bein’ all worked up in my cabin, that’s for sure. Depending on what the little lady wants, outside of the truck beforehand or right in the back seat…I’d oblige ‘til she went limp.” He was smirking to see how quickly that had you tense up, huffing against the scruff of his face and making his thigh twitch under you in silent reply.

“You still actin’ shy?” He asked, and you shook your head fast, a weak hum leaving your mouth as he secured his hand on your hip again.

“Love the sound of that, Rusty, but that’d be no fun afterwards. Couldn’t sit like this while you were driving…” You mused. He turned his head, and quickly reminded you, “We ain’t driving now, are we?” You lifted your head, breath picking up before swooping in to meet his lips. There were no words left, only action as you immediately began to lick into his mouth, which he welcomed with a shuddering hum in response as he kissed back. Just took a gentle tap on the surface of the glass that was your will to have it shatter for him.

“You know I don’t like being…without conviction, or anything like that.” You laughed, and when he looked down at your pajamas in question you clarified, “Not with my words, anyways.” He grumbled at that, “Well, at the right place and time you’re a damn poet, [Y/N]. How ‘bout we go back to the bedroom-“ He stood, taking you with him in a single heave of his arms to carry you bridal style. The sudden scoop up making you squeak and cling to his shirt for dear life, you giggled as he finished the thought, “And you go on and tell me what you want me to do now? Think I’ve talked enough about what I want for the both of us.”

Wrists pinned fiercely on either side of your head, you turned into an open wound: baying like he was killing you, back arched off the mattress and letting the force and delicious friction of each thrust and shudder within your walls shake you from the inside out. He was speaking like you drove him to curse just from the noises, vulgarity escaping from his otherwise polite choice of words as he kept a doting pace.

“How lucky can a man get? Sweet girl who’ll split herself open just for me?”

“Only you,” You babbled, looking up with sweat in your eyes, “Only you, Rusty. Ah-“You cried out again, the squeeze on your arms almost painful as you writhed. He hissed in strained enjoyment, a growl deep in his chest as he tried to straighten his posture but kept that for a few thrusts while looking down at you before caving, coming down again and lining up his chest to yours. His broad stature engulfed your body as he let go of your wrists.

Your hands slipped over his shoulders again, holding him against you as he picked up the pace and had your eyes rolling. The tickle in your stomach, the strain in your cunt muscles were electrifying you as a hand came to cradle the back of your head. To ground himself, but to also keep you still underneath him, his fingers curled into your hair. Sensitive nerves around the top of your head caused you to whine at him, lost to another sensation and the clench of pain merely spurring you on in arousal.

“C’mon, [Y/N].” He beckoned against your cheek in that same fragile voice from earlier, and you rose to the final high before he could even finish the thought, “Wanna feel that sweet pussy ‘round my-“

“Fuck, fuck, fu-uck-!” You interrupted him, fingers curling to sink into the skin of his shoulders. He responded in a shaken groan, mouth on your neck to give his own mark with his teeth as he shivered beside your body, puffing against your clammy skin and an overwhelming flood shooting into you. “Good girl, she's my good fuckin’ girl-” He praised through his own climax, hand in your hair releasing with each gentle thrust up into you just to pull again in a fight to stay firm, "Easy, easy..."

You came with a half open mouth and creased brow, riding his motions with a roll of your hips, chasing a fire too out of control to even consider ramifications of. If you were strong enough to tear the sheets with your scratches, you'd be paying for it. If you had neighbors, you would've felt a pang of pity for them long after you caught up to yourself.

A lull surrounded you afterwards. Quiet, just as the two of you grew fond to. The next time you opened your eyes, having screwed them shut in your ministrations, he was looking at you with a far off expression, still reeling himself but against your side and his arm over your ribcage to keep you curled against him. You brushed parts of his curled, greying hair from his face before adjusting to kiss him. A rare smile with teeth showed itself when you dared pull away slightly, and you couldn’t help but to mirror it.

You had first seen him when the others were picked off. 

Men and women with guns and training had fallen in minutes, gutted or shot through as if they were toys. 

Yet every time you stood exposed, heart hammering, he let you go. He would stand there, vast and armoured, his mandibles twitching as if amused, then he would vanish back into the trees.

At first, you thought it luck, then mockery, then perhaps some cruel experiment. But by the fourth time he spared you, you knew it was something else.

And so did the others.

“You are marked,” whispered one of the survivors, eyes wide with fear. “He hunts you but never kills you. He will not stop. You belong to him now.”

You had laughed bitterly at the idea. 

“I belong to no one.”

Yet deep down, part of you knew. He had chosen you.

It came to a head on the sixth encounter. 

You had been running from one of the smaller hounds, panting and bleeding from a cut across your arm. 

The creature lunged, but before its jaws closed on your throat, a plasma bolt ripped it apart.

You stumbled back, staring as the Berserker stepped into the clearing. His size blotted out the sun above, his mask gleaming. He stepped closer, his weapon lowering as he loomed over you.

Your hands shook as you gripped a stone for defence. 

“Why?” you demanded, breath ragged. “Why do you keep saving me?”

He tilted his head, the red beams of his mask scanning your face. He gave a low, clicking growl. 

Then he touched his chest with one clawed hand, then pointed it at you.

“Mine.”

The word was guttural, broken, yet clear.

Your heart stopped. 

He had spoken. 

A claim.

You took a step back, trembling. 

“I am not yours,” you said, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

He stalked forward another step, and again said, firmer this time. 

“Mine.”

You ran away.

That night, you dreamt of him. 

Not of claws tearing you apart, but of the strange protection he had given you. 

Of the way he had pulled you back from death, time and time again. You hated the way your body remembered the safety of that moment, as if some ancient instinct whispered that you were safer with him than with your own kind.

Days passed, and you learned the truth of his ritual. 

He shadowed you from the trees, never letting you out of his sight. When another human tried to strike you down for slowing the group, his corpse was strung up in the branches before the hour ended. When water was scarce, you awoke to find a gourd left near your camp. 

Always from him. 

Always silent.

Finally, you confronted him. You walked into the clearing where he waited, arms folded as if expecting you.

“Why me?” you demanded. “What makes me different? There are others stronger, faster, smarter.”

His mandibles spread, not in threat but in something almost like a smile. He stepped closer and crouched, lowering himself so his mask was level with your face. 

With surprising gentleness, he raised a clawed finger and tapped it against your chest.

“Heart,” he rasped. Then he tapped his own. “Same.”

You froze. 

He was not just hunting you. He was recognising something.

The others began to fear you more than him. Whispers followed you, mutterings that you were in league with the monster. 

One night, a desperate survivor tried to slit your throat in your sleep. He never got the chance. The Berserker tore him apart before your eyes, then turned to you with a low hiss.

“Safe,” he said, gesturing to you, then to himself.

You swallowed hard, staring at him. 

“With you?”

He nodded once.

Something in you gave way then. Against all reason, all sense, you stepped forward and placed your hand on his arm. The armour was rough under your fingers, but the warmth under it was real. 

He stilled, as if stunned that you dared to touch him, then slowly, he curled his massive hand around yours.

For the first time since your abduction, you did not feel alone.

The ritual of the hunt ended not with death, but with choice. When the final battle came, and the others either died or fled, you stood beside him. And when the fires burned out, and silence claimed the jungle, he did not leave you.

He lifted you into his arms, careful and deliberate, and when you asked in a whisper. 

“Where now?” 

“Together.” he answered simply.

And though the stars above seemed cold, you believed him.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

You had seen that name before, painted on cheap Halloween masks and horror posters. You had laughed nervously, pretending it was nothing. But standing there now, with your so-called friends jeering and shouting, it felt different. The air carried something heavy.

“Go on, it’s just a bunch of broken cabins!” one of them said, Jake, smirking as he shoved your shoulder. “What’s the matter, scared of a few spiders?”

You shook your head quickly, clutching your jacket closer.

“No, I just… this place looks dangerous. The floorboards could collapse, or-”

“Or Jason will get you?” another one interrupted, laughing loudly. The others joined in, their laughter sharp and cruel.

You looked at their faces in the flicker of the light and saw nothing kind. You had known them for years, but moments like this reminded you that friendship was not what tied you together.

It was convenience. You were the one they could tease, the one who never talked back.

“Fine,” you said quietly, your voice trembling just enough to make them grin wider. “I’ll go.”

The path to the cabins was narrow and uneven. The forest seemed to lean closer with every step, branches scraping your hair, roots tugging at your shoes.

You could still hear them laughing behind you, their voices distant now. The old buildings loomed ahead, shapes swallowed by mist and ivy.

The first cabin you reached had a broken window and a door hanging off its hinges. Inside, it smelled of mould and dust. The air was thick, untouched for years. You raised your phone to use its light. There were bunk beds, rusted metal frames, and a wooden chest collapsed in one corner.

You whispered to yourself.

“See? Nothing here.”

A plank creaked behind you.

You froze. Slowly, you turned your head, expecting one of them to have followed you in to scare you. But the doorway was empty. Only darkness stared back.

The wind picked up, rattling the door. The sound made your heart jump. You forced out a laugh, trying to shake it off.

“Alright, joke’s over,” you called. “I’m coming out now.”

No answer.

As you turned to leave, something moved beyond the window, a large shadow, slow and deliberate. You blinked, trying to make sense of it, but the phone trembled in your hand.

For a heartbeat, you thought it was your imagination. The shape didn’t move, just stood there. The outline was broad, the shoulders huge. A mask, maybe? You couldn’t be sure. You took a step closer, and it was gone.

You ran outside, your breath sharp in the cold air. The forest was too quiet. You could still see the glow of your friends’ lights somewhere near the path, and you started toward them.

Then someone screamed.

It was cut short, replaced by the sound of heavy footsteps crashing through the undergrowth.

Another scream followed, then another, each one snapped off mid-breath. Panic rushed through you.

You stumbled, falling to your knees, and tried to crawl toward the sound of the car, but your foot caught something metal.

There was a sharp snap, and a blinding pain shot through your leg. You screamed, looking down to see a rusted bear trap clamped around your ankle, blood seeping through your jeans.

You tried to pull free, crying out as the teeth dug deeper.

The forest was alive now with noise, footsteps, rustling, the thud of something heavy being dragged.

You looked up, and there he was.

Tall, silent, broad-shouldered, a hockey mask gleaming pale in the torchlight that flickered from the ground.

Jason Voorhees.

You froze. Every breath hitched in your chest. You whispered.

“Please…” without knowing what you were asking for.

He stood over you, machete in hand, his chest rising and falling with slow, deep breaths.

For a moment, you thought he would swing the blade. But he didn’t. He only looked at you, really looked.

The tears on your face caught the faint light, and something in his posture changed. The machete lowered slightly. His head tilted to one side, as though he saw something he recognised.

Somewhere behind him, another scream broke the stillness. Jason turned sharply and walked away without a sound.

You were left shaking, the night swallowing you again. The screams didn’t stop for a long time.

You had no idea how long you lay there.

Time bled into the dark, your tears soaking into the dirt as the cold crept into your bones.

The forest was silent again. Too silent. Even the crickets had gone quiet.

You tried to stay awake, but pain blurred the edges of everything. The bear trap still clung to your leg, teeth buried in skin. You pressed shaking hands against it, desperate to pry it open, but it wouldn’t move.

Blood slicked your palms, and the effort only made you sob harder.

The light from the ground flickered one last time before dying completely. You were swallowed by blackness.

When the footsteps came again, you almost didn’t hear them. Heavy, steady, crushing the leaves underfoot. You lifted your head weakly, heart hammering.

“Please,” you whispered, though you didn’t know what you were begging for.

A shadow stopped beside you. He knelt.

The light from the moon caught the shape of the hockey mask, smeared with dark stains.

Jason didn’t speak, only reached out one gloved hand and pressed it against the trap. His strength was effortless. The metal groaned, bending slightly.

You winced but didn’t pull away. Then, with a sudden jerk, the trap sprang open.

You gasped, collapsing against the ground. Jason stayed crouched, watching you.

The smell of the forest and old metal filled the air between you. His breathing was slow and deep, almost rhythmic.

You thought he might kill you now, that freeing you had been some cruel trick, but instead he slid his arms beneath you and lifted you up as if you weighed nothing. You cried out softly, clutching at his jacket, but he didn’t react. His grip was strong, almost protective.

The world swayed as he carried you through the forest.

The trees passed in streaks of grey, the lake glinting pale through the gaps. Somewhere in the distance, you thought you saw firelight, faint and flickering.

When he stopped, it was before a small cabin hidden behind a wall of overgrown vines. The roof sagged slightly, but smoke drifted from an old metal chimney. He kicked the door open and stepped inside.

The room was small and bare, with a single bed and a stone fireplace. Dust clung to the shelves, and the floorboards groaned under his weight. He set you down carefully on the bed.

You flinched when he reached for his machete, but he only set it against the wall. Then he turned to you again, kneeling beside the bed.

Your leg was a mess of torn fabric and blood. He tore a strip from an old blanket and wrapped it tightly around the wound. You tried not to cry out, but the pain was too much.

“Why…” Your voice trembled. “Why are you helping me?”

Jason didn’t move. His head tilted slightly, the mask reflecting the firelight.

You took a shaky breath.

“You killed them, didn’t you?”

He didn’t deny it.

“They hurt me,” you whispered, looking down at your bandaged leg. “Every day. They laughed, called me useless, ugly… I never wanted to come here.”

He lowered his head, shoulders tense, as though the words were heavy.

Something in the silence changed. You could feel it. The air wasn’t filled with fear anymore. It was something softer, something sad. You realised then that he understood.

Maybe not your words exactly, but the feeling. The loneliness. The cruelty.

You reached out a trembling hand, and though he didn’t take it, he didn’t pull away either.

For the first time since you arrived at Camp Crystal Lake, you felt safe.

When you woke the next morning, the cabin was filled with pale light. The air was cold, but the fireplace still smouldered faintly. You blinked, confused for a moment, before the memories returned, the trap, the screams, the man in the mask.

Jason.

You sat up slowly, wincing as your leg throbbed.

The bandage he had wrapped around it was rough but secure. Someone had placed a tin cup beside the bed, half-filled with water, and a bundle of dried herbs lay on the table nearby.

He was gone.

You thought about trying to crawl to the door, but a strange stillness stopped you. It wasn’t fear anymore; it was the feeling of being somewhere you weren’t meant to leave.

When the door finally creaked open, you startled, clutching the blanket around you. Jason filled the doorway, a shadow against the morning fog. In one hand, he held a bundle of sticks and something wrapped in cloth.

You didn’t speak at first. He set the bundle down near the fire and crouched, arranging the sticks neatly. The cloth turned out to hold food, berries, a piece of fish, and something that looked freshly cooked.

You watched him in silence, unsure of what to say. He moved carefully, almost cautiously, as though afraid of startling you.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He froze for a moment before turning his head slightly, not quite looking at you. You saw his shoulders rise and fall in a slow breath.

You tried again.

“You didn’t have to help me. You could have left me out there.”

No response. Only the faint crackle of the fire.

After a moment, you continued, voice small.

“They were never really my friends. I suppose you could tell. They liked making me feel small.”

He sat back on his heels, silent but attentive. His mask hid his expression, but somehow you felt he was listening.

The hours passed slowly. You talked about everything, your family, your home, the way the world seemed quieter in the autumn. You didn’t know why you kept speaking, but it felt right.

Every so often, he would move slightly, tilt his head, or adjust the fire, and those small gestures were answer enough.

That evening, he returned again with more food. This time, you smiled when you saw him, a small, nervous smile, but genuine.

He hesitated in the doorway before stepping inside, as though uncertain he was welcome.

“You can come in,” you said. “It’s your cabin, isn’t it?”

He turned his head slightly, as if thinking, then entered. He sat near the fire again, cleaning his machete with slow, steady movements. You tried not to look afraid.

When you spoke, your voice was calm.

“You remind me of someone I used to know. Quiet, but kind. He never said much, but you could tell what he felt.”

Jason stilled for a moment, then set the weapon aside.

You smiled faintly.

“You probably think I talk too much.”

His head tilted again, and for a fleeting moment, it almost looked like he shook it, a small, subtle movement. You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you.

Days became weeks. Your leg healed slowly, though you still limped when you walked. Jason would appear and disappear without warning, always silent, always watching. You began to leave small things for him, a cleaned cup, a folded blanket, once even a wildflower you had picked by the lake. Each time, it vanished by the next morning, and in its place you would find something new: food, water, firewood stacked neatly.

One night, you sat by the fire and spoke softly, though you weren’t sure he was there to hear.

“You’re not what they say you are, are you?” you whispered. “You just… protect what’s yours. I think you’ve been alone too long.”

The wind shifted through the broken window. For a moment, you thought you saw him standing just beyond the trees, half hidden by mist.

“I’ll be here tomorrow.” You smiled.

The days at the cabin had settled into a strange rhythm. You woke with the sun, ate what Jason brought, and spent hours sitting by the fire or looking out over the lake. He was always there, silent, his presence steady and unyielding, and somehow, that silence was comforting.

You had stopped calling him a monster.

Even when you remembered the screams of your tormentors, even when you thought of the lives he had taken, the fear that once clenched your chest had softened. You had seen him care for you, had felt it in the gentle way he tended your wounds, in the careful movements that never hurt you.

One evening, you noticed him lingering at the edge of the firelight. His shadow was long and still, the mask glinting faintly in the last rays of sunset. Something in you started, not fear, not panic, but a strange, aching curiosity.

“Come closer,” you said softly, your voice trembling just enough to sound human.

He hesitated, as he always did, then stepped into the glow of the fire. The air between you was thick with unspoken words. You reached out, hand shaking, and rested it on the edge of his arm. His stillness was almost unbearable, but he did not pull away.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” you whispered. “I don’t want you to be.”

The fire crackled, and for a long moment, he only looked at you. Then, slowly, deliberately, he sank to his knees in front of you, his massive frame folded into the shadows. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the weight of his presence, and something inside your chest eased.

“Do you ever… get lonely?” you asked quietly.

He tilted his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. You smiled faintly, taking it as an answer.

“I know how that feels,” you murmured, leaning closer despite your lingering fear. “People think you’re nothing. They don’t understand you. But I do. I see you. I see the person behind the mask.”

For the first time, he didn’t shift, didn’t hesitate. He only stayed, letting your words wash over him. Slowly, carefully, you reached up and touched the mask. The surface was cold and hard beneath your fingers, but his hand twitched slightly against yours, almost imperceptibly, and you felt the slightest movement, a nod, maybe, or a tilt of the head.

“You’re not just a shadow in the woods,” you said softly. “You’re… someone. Someone who can care, who can protect, who can… love.”

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, but not frightening anymore. Then he did something you had never imagined. With careful, deliberate movements, he leaned forward slightly, letting you brush your hand against his cheek beneath the mask.

You felt the warmth of his skin under, rough but real, and you shivered, not from fear but from the closeness.

“I… I trust you,” you whispered.

He remained still, but there was a softness in the tilt of his head, in the way he stayed near you. That night, for the first time, he did not leave. He sat by the fire with you, not speaking, but simply being there.

The quiet was no longer lonely. It was something else entirely.

Days passed. He learned, slowly, how to be gentle. He brought you food, tended the fire, and stayed close when storms rolled in over the lake. You spoke, and he listened. Sometimes, when the wind was right, you swore you heard him hum quietly, a sound so soft it could have been the forest itself.

One night, as the moon hung low over the lake, you found the courage to do something you had imagined for weeks. You reached out, touched the side of his mask, and whispered.

“I see you. All of you.”

Slowly, with a movement so careful it could have been broken, he leaned toward you, allowing you to remove the mask. Your hands trembled, but you saw him clearly for the first time, scars crisscrossing his face, eyes deep and dark, but alive, filled with the same quiet loneliness you knew so well.

“You’re… real,” you breathed.

He did not speak, but he stayed. His hand hovered near yours, then brushed it, gentle and deliberate.

You felt something ignite in your chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the fire.

In the middle of the ruined cabin, with the mist rising over the lake outside, you realised that the bond between you had changed. Fear had given way to trust. Pain had given way to understanding. And loneliness had given way to love, quiet, strange, but pure.

For the first time, you were not afraid of him. And for the first time, you knew he was not afraid of you.

The days at the cabin became your world, a small universe tucked away in the folds of the forest. You woke to the mist rising over the lake, the quiet lapping of water against the shore. Jason was always near, never intrusive, never demanding, but his presence had grown into something steady, comforting.

You had learned the rhythm of his silence, how to read the small gestures that spoke volumes.

A hand resting on a log while he cleaned the fire, a slow tilt of his head as he watched you move about the cabin. You had come to understand that these were his ways of saying he cared, even without words.

One evening, you sat by the fire, your leg fully healed now, and watched him carefully.

He was at the edge of the firelight, his silhouette large and still. The wind rustled the trees, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, and you realised with a quiet thrill that you were happy here. Not just safe, but truly happy.

You reached out slowly and took his hand in yours. The glove was rough, scarred from years you could only imagine, but when he allowed your fingers to press against his, it was as soft as any touch you had ever known.

“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

He remained still, but the slight tilt of his head told you everything. He would not leave either.

The night deepened, and the stars began to peek through the thinning clouds. You felt the warmth of his body beside yours, steady and unwavering. For the first time, you dared to rest your head on his shoulder, and he did not flinch.

His weight of was comforting, a steady anchor in a world that had so often been cruel and unforgiving.

“You saved me,” you said softly, pressing your hand to the side of his face. “And I… I think I saved you too.”

He leaned slightly into your touch, the mask still on but the gesture intimate, accepting. You reached up carefully and lifted it, revealing his face fully. His eyes met yours, dark and deep, but with something new, softness. Vulnerability. Trust.

“We’re not alone anymore,” you whispered.

He did not respond with words, but his hand closed over yours, fingers warm, deliberate.

In that moment, you understood that the bond between you was more than protection or gratitude.

It was love. Quiet, unspoken, and yet undeniable.

In the following weeks, the cabin became a haven.

You and Jason moved with a rhythm that felt natural, living together in silence and understanding. He still protected the camp, still kept intruders at bay, but now there was laughter too, small, quiet moments that belonged only to the two of you.

Sometimes, you would sit by the lake, throwing stones into the water, and he would watch, his enormous figure leaning against a tree.

Sometimes, he would bring you wildflowers, placing them carefully in the cabin, a silent gesture that made your heart swell.

And at night, when the forest was quiet and the fire flickered low, you would lie together, your head on his chest, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

The world outside was dangerous, cruel, and loud, but here, in the folds of the forest, it did not matter.

You were seen. You were safe. You were loved.

And for the first time in your life, you felt that love was returned in full, in quiet, unshakable ways.

Jason Voorhees, the man once feared by the world, had found a home.

And you had found him.

The mist rose over Camp Crystal Lake, the trees swaying gently in the night wind.

Somewhere beyond the forest, the world continued, unaware of the strange, perfect peace that had settled here. But inside the cabin, by the fire, all was right.

You were together. And nothing else mattered.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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