Day 15: Aphrodisiac – Frank | Dead by daylight |FEMALE VER
Warning: Fem reader, no protection, penetration, fingering, the word cunt used a lot, english isn't my first language
A/n: Finally Frank is back my fav guy I'm so happy to include him in Kinktober <3
MALE VER
Valentine’s Day had never meant anything in the Fog. At least, not until the Entity decided to make it everyone’s problem.
The world had turned pink overnight. Every realm, every hallway, every slaughter field, had been drowned in roses and heart-shaped candles. Red petals floated in the air and glittering garlands hung from the hooks. Even the campfire flickered in shades of red, pink, and gold, its smoke smelling strongly of flowers.
But the trials were the same as always as trials never stopped for holidays.
You could feel that sentiment with your heart beating out of your chest as you ran. The sound of boots behind you, fast, relentless in the chase, cut through the haze of rose-scented air. Frank breathed heavily behind you, he’d been on you since the start, and the decorative hearts strung between branches looked more like mockery than actual festivity.
You dodged through the red fog, every breath filled with sweetness so thick it burned your throat. The forest seemed alive, petals trembling as they slowly decedent from the sky. A blur of motion behind you, his knife flashing, the glint of his mask, sent adrenaline screaming through your veins.
And then your foot caught on something, a root, a stone, maybe the edge of one of those weird bushes, and the world suddenly tilted. Roses, white and blood-red, swallowed you whole.
When you hit the ground, the impact knocked the air from your lungs. A split second later, Frank crashed down after you, his weight pinning you in a tangle of flowers and limbs, the air suddenly thick with sweetness.
The impact seemingly shook the bush, releasing a dense, cloud of perfume(?) from the crushed flowers. It wasn’t just floral, it was thick, sweet, with an undertone of something else, something musky and electric that hit the back of your throat. You coughed, trying to turn your head away, but the scent was everywhere, clinging to the air, clinging to you.
“What the fuck is that smell?” Frank’s voice was a low growl, his body a heavy and unmoving on top of you.
Then the heat started.
It wasn't a gentle warmth. It was like a flashfire igniting under your skin, a sudden, desperate need that coiled low in your belly. Your clothes, once just fabric, now felt like a prison, every brush of the material against your oversensitive nipples sending jolts of pure, undiluted lust straight to your cunt. You were soaking through your pants in seconds, a hot, slick ache building between your legs that demanded to be filled.
Frank went rigid on top of you. You felt the exact moment it hit him too. A full-body shudder wracked his frame, and a guttural, choked sound escaped his lips. The hard lines of his body, usually tense with aggression, were now vibrating with a different, more primal tension. His cock, hard and unmistakable, pressed against your thigh through his jeans, and he ground it against you with an involuntary, desperate roll of his hips.
“Fuck” he rasped, his voice ragged. “Fuck. What is this?”
His masked face was inches from yours. You could feel the hot puff of his breath, see the faint sheen of sweat already forming on the skin of his neck. The logical part of your brain, the part that always stayed calm, was screaming about magical pollen and Entity mind games, but it was a distant, fading voice. It was drowned out by the roaring in your blood, by the insistent, pounding need to get him inside you, now.
Your hands, acting on their own, came up to claw at the back of his jacket. “Frank” you breathed, and your own voice sounded foreign, husky and needy.
He didn’t need more invitation. His hands, usually used to wield a knife, fumbled with the hem of your shirt, yanking it up roughly. The cool air on your heated skin was a shock, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of his bare hand, sliding up your stomach to palm your breast. His touch was rough, frantic, but it was exactly what your body craved.
“Fuck, you’re so hot” he muttered, his thumb rubbing tight, frantic circles over your nipple through the fabric of your bra. “I can feel you fucking burning up.”
“Just tear it” you gasped, arching your back, pushing your breast harder into his hand. “Please, Frank.”
A dark, possessive sound rumbled in his chest. He hooked a finger under the cup of your bra and pulled, the flimsy material giving way with a satisfying rip. Your tit spilled into his hand, and his mouth went to your nipple immediately, his tongue licking over the stiff peak before he sucked it hard into his hot and wet mouth.
You cried out, the sensation so intense it was almost painful, a direct line of pleasure-pain shooting from your nipple to your clit. Your fingers tangled in his hair, not to pull him away, but to hold him there, to force him to suck harder, to take more. You could feel the smirk on his lips against your skin.
He released your nipple with a wet pop, his breath coming in harsh pants. “You like that? You like me using your tits?” He didn’t wait for an answer, his free hand going to the button of your pants, popping it open and dragging the zipper down in one jerky motion. “Need to feel this cunt. Need to know how fucking wet you are for me.”
He shoved his hand down your pants, his fingers sliding through your slick folds with no resistance. You moaned, a high, broken sound, your hips bucking off the ground to meet his touch.
“Jesus Christ” he groaned, his voice full of awe and raw hunger. He pushed two thick fingers inside you without any more warning, curling them, stretching you. “You’re fucking dripping. Soaking my fucking hand. This all for me?”
“Yes” you sobbed, the word tearing from your throat. “Yes, it’s you, it’s all for you, fuck, please…”
He fucked you with his fingers, a brutal, hurried rhythm that had you seeing stars. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against your inner thighs, the pressure of his body pinning you down, the scent of crushed flowers and sweat and him filling your senses, it was too much and somehow not enough. You were hurtling toward an orgasm already, your walls fluttering wildly around his thrusting fingers.
“Gonna make you come all over my hand” he snarled against your neck, biting down on the tender skin there. “Then I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt raw. Gonna fill you up. That what you want? You want my cock?”
“Yes! God, yes, Frank, I want your cock, I need it, please…”
He withdrew his fingers, and you whimpered at the loss, the empty ache returning instantly. He shoved your pants and underwear down to your knees. He them fumbled with his own belt, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy, his usual control and aggression destroyed by the potent need coursing through him.
He got his jeans open, shoving them down just enough to free his cock. You reached for him, your hand wrapping around his length. He was huge, thick and hard as steel. A drop of precum beaded at the tip and you smeared it with your thumb, earning a sharp, hissing gasp from him.
“Fucking hell, do that again” he demanded, his hips jerking into your touch.
But you were past playing. You guided him to your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your dripping opening. You looked up into his dark eyes now that he stripped the mask off his face, your own eyes wide, pleading, completely stripped of any calm .
“Frank, fuck me. Now.”
A ragged groan tore from him and he drove forward, burying his entire length inside you in one hard thrust.
The fullness was a shockwave of pure, undiluted pleasure-pain that radiated out from your core. You screamed, your nails digging into the leather of his jacket as he stretched you, filled you, ruined you. He stayed there for a second, buried to the hilt, both of you panting, shaking, overwhelmed by the sensation.
“Fuck” he breathed, the word full of reverence. “You feel… fucking incredible. So tight. Gripping my cock like a fucking vise.”
He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, letting you feel every inch of him, before slamming back in. And then he started to move. There was no no gentle rhythm. It was pure, animalistic fucking. His thrusts were hard and deep, pounding into you with a desperation that matched the fire in your veins. The bush rustled and shook around you, petals raining down on your heated skin with every movement.
His grunts and curses were constant, that and the sounds of your skin were the only things filling your ear. “Yeah, take it. Take my fucking cock. Your cunt is made for this, fucking made for me to wreck.”
You could only moan, your head thrashing side to side, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper, to take every last bit of him. The world narrowed to the slap of skin on skin, the scent of sex and flowers, and the overwhelming sensation of him pounding into your deepest, most sensitive spots. The coil in your belly tightened, ready to snap.
“I’m close” you choked out. “Frank, I’m so close…”
“Me too” he grunted, his pace becoming even more frantic, more erratic. “Gonna come inside this perfect cunt. Gonna fill you up. Come with me. Now.”
His command, growled up at you, was all it took. Your orgasm exploded through you, a silent, screaming wave of electric pleasure that ripped a raw shout from your throat. Your cunt pulled him in milking him which dragged his own release from him a second later. He shouted your name, a broken, guttural sound as he emptied himself deep inside you, his thrusts turning jerky and uncoordinated.
You collapsed forward onto his chest, both of you shuddering and gasping for air. The intense, scorching heat from the pollen began to recede, leaving a deep, satiated ache in its place. Frank’s arms came up around you, one hand resting possessively on the small of your back. His other hand came up to your chin, tilting your face up to his.
“That was…” he started, his voice hoarse.
A sharp crack of a twig snapping echoed from somewhere behind you. Frank’s body went stone-still beneath you. His head turned sharply toward the sound, post orgasm relaxation, vanishing in an instant.
You hadn't properly kept track of time, but you knew it had been long since the fog first took you, long since you had been entrapped in this godforsaken place. You had been here long enough to go through the five stages of grief, and long enough to realize that you still had needs to be fulfilled, even if that meant sacrificing your morals and your pride.
That's why you were now the last survivor in Frank's trial, waiting for him to find you and fuck you senseless. A predator onto prey, Frank Morrison had been making moves on you for what had to be months now. You denied him each time, slapping his wandering hands away when he had you cornered during a trial, only to get slashed, hooked, and sacrificed, the brutal price for rejecting him. One day, whether you were unusually horny or just out of your mind, it didn't feel so bad to have his hand fondling your breasts, and you ended up letting him do whatever he wanted.
You'd been sleeping with him for a few weeks now after having discovered that the sex was surprisingly good. The more you did it, the less shameful you felt. If you were going to suffer for eternity, might as well try to enjoy yourself here and there, and after the last few trials, you needed this, needed him.
You waited patiently inside a house in Haddonfield, sitting atop an abandoned bed, savoring the comfort of the cushy material while you had the chance and the peaceful quiet with no one else around. You kicked your shoes off and curled up in the corner, flinching at every little noise and creak in the house as you anxiously anticipated Frank's arrival.
You heard footsteps downstairs, and then his loud mouth, "you in here, shitbird?"
"Yeah, upstairs!" You called back shakily, listening to his boots clunk up the stairs and down the hall.
It was dark, making you shiver when Frank's silhouette appeared in the doorway. He stood there, watching you furled in on yourself against the wall. As he got closer, you realized his mask was already off, and his hood down, his scarred face illuminated by nothing but the moonlight shining in through the broken window.
The bed dipped as he sat on it, wrapping a calloused hand around the back of your calf. "You cold?" He snickered.
"Yes," you hissed defensively, shivering on cue. "Take your shoes off."
"Since when do you think you can order me around?" He scoffed and roughly yanked you forward, but there was a grin on his lips. Unlike most of the other killers, there remained a human element to Frank.
"It'll be more comfortable," you mewled. "Please?"
He huffed, reluctantly releasing your leg and moving to pull his boots off, unceremoniously tossing them into the opposite corner of the room. "This better, sweetheart?" Frank cooed sarcastically.
"Mhm," you nodded, lips tugging into a cheeky smile. "I'm still cold though."
"That's hardly my problem," he said, then added smugly, "you won't be cold in a few minutes," as he reached to pull down your skirt.
You grabbed his wrists to stop him. "Can't I wear your hoodie? Just until I warm up?"
"You are so goddamn needy today," he groaned in annoyance. "But fine. Any other requests?"
"Not right now," you giggled.
He shook his head as he started to pull off his jacket and hoodie. You struggled to make out his expression in the dark, hoping to see him smiling. Once his hoodie was off, he went back to your skirt, practically ripping it down your legs before lifting your top off just as aggressively. He reached behind your back with one hand to unclip your bra, hissing as he watched your nipples harden after being exposed to the chill air.
He reached for you, taking one of your tits in his hand and running a thumb over your nipple. You moaned and squirmed. "Frank, please," you begged, shivering to remind him.
"Alright, alright." He reluctantly released you, grabbing his zip hoodie and throwing it around your shoulders. You pushed your arms through each sleeve as he held it up, pulling it around your torso and humming contentedly at the fleeting warmth of his body heat.
"This isn't cuddle time," he reminded you, pulling it apart to reveal your breasts again. He took another moment to admire them before pulling his knife out and using it to cut your panties off, pulling the ruined material away from your skin.
Completely exposed aside from his hoodie around your back and arms, you pulled your knees to your chest, trying to stay warm.
"Huh uh," Frank shook his head at you. "Open them now."
You pouted but obeyed, leaning back onto the bed and spreading your legs apart.
"Fuuuuck." He threw his head back. Your eyes dropped to his pants, watching greedily as the fabric tightened around his crotch. He wasted no more time, undoing his belt and pulling both his pants and boxers off in one go, throwing them off to the side with the rest of your clothes.
He crawled toward you, pressing a finger to your heat. "Knew you'd already be soaked," he laughed meanly before spitting on you. You gasped, and he chuckled again, mixing his juices with yours before pushing them into you. Now it was your turn to throw your head back, whining and arching your back as he curled his finger inside you.
"What are you being so fucking quiet for?" He asked you angrily, pumping and twisting his finger in and out of you faster and faster. "No one's around. You had better get loud or I'll give you a reason to scream."
You cried out, moaning louder at his command. "That's it," he slurred. "That's my good little slut." He added another finger, and you got impossibly louder, hips bucking into his palm as his hand slapped against you viciously.
You knew your voice was going to be hoarse when you got back to the fire, but you couldn't care at the moment. You wanted to be good for Frank, to let him see how obedient you could be because that's how you got what you wanted.
"You ready to get fucked yet?" He asked, grabbing a handful of your breast and pinching your nipple.
You squealed and squirmed. "Yes! Yes! Please give me your cock, Frank, please!"
You whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of you, only to push his dick inside moments later. He wasn't necessarily small, but not too big either, but he was thick, so thick that no matter how many times you took him, you still always felt the stretch when he first started.
And Frank being Frank, he hardly ever gave you time to adjust, pushing in to the hilt once before starting to pound into you. He slapped your tits and then wrapped his hand around your neck to anchor himself, roughly snapping his hips against yours. All the while you stayed loud for him, though it was becoming less and less of an act as you struggled to take his fat cock into your tight walls.
"Look so cute in my hoodie," he grunted, applying light pressure to your neck. Your cheeks warmed at the compliment. "Love watching your pretty little pussy take my cock while you're wearing my hoodie. You're fucking mine. You got that?"
"I'm yours," you croaked out the affirmation. "I'm yours."
"Yeah you are." His pace was brutal. The entire bed creaked and shook as he practically pounded you into the mattress, and though you were starting to sweat in his jacket, you didn't dare tell him about it. You'd rather keep it on, knowing now that he liked seeing it on you, that it made him get so possessive.
Frank's hands fell to your waist, his fingers digging into your sides as he pulled you against him now with each thrust. The heat in your core was becoming unbearable, and you knew you weren't going to last much longer.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he beat you to the punch. "Gonna cum," he repeated, pressing a hand to your stomach to hold you down.
He struggled to hold it in, his thumb messily pressing against your clit to rub tight erratic circles. You grabbed his wrist, trying to push his hand away but he used his other hand to pin your hands down and away from him, continuing his assault on your pussy before the both of you were shaking and jerking uncontrollably. He held you down as he came inside of you. That was one perk of living in this realm. For whatever reason, you couldn't get pregnant, which meant Frank could fill you up as much as the both of you wanted.
You were both panting, lying in that dingy little bed next to one another. Frank never hung out for long, always slightly afraid the Entity would get mad if he took longer than he needed to. He got up and pulled his pants and boxers on before throwing on his leather jacket.
"Wait." You sat up, slightly dazed. "You don't want your hoodie back?"
"Nah." He didn't look at you as he spoke, zipping his jacket up. "Just keep it. I'll get it back when we go to the next trial anyway."
He left without another word, heading to the hatch to shut it before going to open one of the exit gates for you. He may have never stayed long after, but after you told him that you preferred the exit gate, that the hatch freaked you out, he always took the extra step to make sure you got out the way you wanted.
You put your regular clothes back on before pulling Frank's hoodie on over top, appreciating the added warmth for just a little bit longer as you made your way down to the open gate. Normally, Frank disappeared elsewhere on the map, never sticking around to watch you leave, but he was here now, standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his mask back on. It looked a little goofy without his hood pulled up over it. You tried not to laugh.
"Having second thoughts about letting me go?" You joked nervously.
He scoffed, suppressing a smile. "See you soon, smartass."
To your surprise, when you appeared back at the campfire, you looked down to find that the Entity let you keep the hoodie.
My i ask wesker( i just love this dude) Ghostface, frank and deathslinger watching a survivor(they like the surv) wrestling another survivor for a item that they found on the ground
Killers react to survivors wrestle for a item
Ghostface
"It's mine you fucker"
He snapped his head towards the direction he heard the voice
He went to see what happened
He paused then laughed
He started recording the whole thing laughing his ass off the whole time
Roots for you obviously
If it looks like your losing he will hit the other survivor
Wesker
Hears cursing
He makes his way over
His curiosity piqued
See's you and another survivors wrestling
He smirks and finds it very amusing
He will walk over to you
Slam the survivor into a wall and hand you the item, smiling
He's such a good boy ☺️💕
Frank
He went into a frenzy and rushed to where the auras (or whatever) were at
He then stopped dead in his tracks
A survivor putting you in a chokehold while you scratch their face and any exposed skin, drawing blood
He is confused why and steps in to get the survivor off you, downing them
When he finds out it's over an item he laughs in disbelief
DeathSlinger
He was walking around
And stumbled upon you on top of a survivor choking them with some rusty chains
He was alarmed
Where did you get the chains and why are you choking your comrade
After the survivor calls out for mercy you stop and grab a medkit
