Summary: In a town of punishment and suffering, you are the only one who walks beside Pyramid Head without fear.
Silent Hill had never known love.
It was a place of torment and suffering. It twisted souls into monsters and forced them to relive their worst sins.
But you?
You were different.
Because you had been chosen.
The others feared Pyramid Head. They spoke of him in hushed voices, whispered of the executioner who brought judgment upon the damned.
But you had never feared him.
You had met him in the fog, seen him standing over you like a sentinel, cutting down the horrors that wanted to claim you. You had felt the weight of his hand against your back, his fingers curling around your wrist, not to hurt you, he would never hurt you, but rather to hold you.
He was a monster, they said. A being of violence.
But they had never seen the way he shielded you with his body when the town shifted when rusted walls closed in and the world trembled. When the nightmares came out.
They had never felt the way he pulled you close, the way his massive hands guided you through the darkness, keeping you safe.
He had been a man, once.
You knew it in the way he touched you. Careful. Purposeful.
There was a soul beneath the steel and silence, one that had chosen you in a place where nothing was meant to be kept.
And Silent Hill hated it. The monsters did. Their jealousy and fury manifest in the most terrible ways.
They had tried to take you.
They had whispered in your mind, trying to pull you away from him. But every time, Pyramid Head had found you.
He destroyed anything that tried to take you.
And as you stood in the ruins of what had once been a church, the air thick with the scent of blood and rust, you made your choice.
You turned to him, lifting your hands to press them against his bloodstained chest.
His breathing was slow, deep.
He did not move. But you felt him watching you.
“I am yours,” you whispered.
The air shifted. The town screamed.
Pyramid Head’s hands came to rest against your back, pulling you against him, his grip firm.
His hold was unbreakable, a vow stronger than any words.
Silent Hill would never understand what you were to him.
But it did not matter.
Because you were his.
And nothing would take you from him.
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
Wattpad
/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
plot: a monster slowly hunted everyone in your town, but you managed to escape the same fate it had given everyone else by surrendering into something unthinkable — themes: x f!reader, grinding, monster fucking, noncon, extreme dubcon towards end/out of sheer self preservation, riding, size difference, painful sex, warning in general for pyramid head — w.c: 1.1k
pairing: pyramid head x f!reader
kinktober masterlist • on ao3
It was surely over for you, the slowest runner in town, as that nightmarish entity drew increasingly closer. You had already tripped and fallen twice, and your clothes hung torn over your body as a result, barely hiding anything at all. The ground beneath you shook, and the smell of copper overwhelmed your senses; a scalding warmth radiated closer, closer, closer—the end was near.
It was only a matter of time before it was you next in line to fall under the cruelty of the beast, and so you braced yourself, praying quietly for a quick death. A scream queued itself up in your lungs in advance, just in case, but you were unsure if you could even accomplish that.
Weighing down in your chest like an unwelcome weight.
With fear that anchored you—
—Rooting you to the spot.
You glanced around as the beast loomed over you, casting a shadow over your prone form. His weapon was already wedged in the ground, ready to lift and bludgeon you into eternal slumber. The doors around you of those who hid from their eventual deaths were already locked around you: nobody was about to let in a doomed soul. The blinds were already drawn, indeed, and yet, you could still feel so many eyes on you.
Judging you.
There was no pity in these times.
Then, movement—!
The monster grabbed you suddenly, and a muted yelp tore from your throat, already leaving you breathless. His large, calloused hands clamped down around your body, pulling you off your feet and surging you into the air in a way that made you feel strangely light. Then, he found a spot, it seemed, crashing down by a nearby wall. The sound of hurried footsteps escaping from within could be heard ever so slightly.
You gulped, not understanding the idea behind such a strange end.
Then, the monster acted erratically again, lifting you—pushing you down agains the metal slope of his head, forcing you to uncomfortably straddle around it.
“W-what—” you gasped out, not quite following the turn of events.
You were supposed to be dead by now.
Then, he dragged you down the hill of his helmet, grinding you against the corner again in a way that rubbed to a pinched point against your sex through your torn panties. The feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant, the pressure nice against your clit, but it was confusing. This motion repeated a few times: up and down, down then up, until you got the hang of it, until you could move on your own, even if mechanically.
The monster felt around you all the while, gasping slightly.
This was confusing, there was no doubt about that, but also strangely preferable.
You weren’t dead yet—you were chosen for something different—horrible still, yes—but death was still the less desired outcome.
If this monster wanted you for such a purpose, then you would adapt.
Even despite the judging eyes.
Maybe you wanted to show them that you could survive and they couldn’t.
Even if it came down to something like… this.
Suddenly, the beast pulled you away, settling you over his lap. He tugged at your hips and then slammed you back down again, as if to remind you of the movement you needed to remember to replicate.
You understood perfectly well where this was going.
If this meant survival, then you were determined to proceed.
You found yourself scrambling around his shoulders, gripping at whatever tight piece of muscle that had the most traction and braced yourself for the potential pain. His body was huge in comparison to yours, and there was no doubt about it that his cock must have been monstrous, too. You felt it already: straining against the tough leather of the apron he wore, pushing forward until the tip sprang out from the side and seeking your sex with one hurried, unprepared thrust.
A gasp locked in your throat followed by a silent scream, the sensation so brutally raw that it rendered you silent from the intensity. Your walls could barely contain his girth as he stretched you out completely, the head of his cock pushing in so deep that it made you nearly pass out from the pain alone.
Still, you held on, moving from his shoulders to the rim of his helmet. He seemed to like that, too, gentling his grip around your hips as you adapted to him.
Maybe a part of you was imagining his softness that followed, but the rhythm that this monster had set wasn’t as punishing as it could have been: his hips rocked in steady pistoning motions, yes, holding you in place, but no longer was he strained with demand. No, this beast fell back, his form relaxed, as if completely content in having you move to your own accord.
Just like you practiced briefly over his helmet.
You gasped regardless of your enjoyment, or lack of: your lungs repeatedly having the air punched out of them as he impaled your bruised cunt again and again. His grip on you gradually tightened again, though not out of cruelty, but rather from anticipated completion threatening to push him over the edge. His body as a whole grew rigid as he kept on going, until—until—oops—he slammed you down regardless, spearing you down painfully over his erupting cock that left your insides feeling a little too full, a little too sore.
The beast seemed to relax again:
No such effort to remove you, regardless of the pain you must have been feeling, from his softening, spent length.
He seemed content again to just have you there.
You gasped a moment later, finally finding the strength to step off, hoping to yourself that this creature would somehow be asleep. False hope gave you confidence as he didn’t move to stop you, but as soon as you tried to sneak away, did he object.
Rising to his feet and rumbling the earth around him, he grew to tower over you once more, and before you could even think to break away, his hands branched out to hoist you to scramble and hold onto his helmet, however uncomfortable that was. Your legs wrapped around the sharp corners, your arms holding onto something that felt like it could have been traction, but only just about managing to ground yourself to what he had next forced you into.
Then, much to your unease, he began to pad forward, nowhere in particular, but for a reason unknown to you, he seemed reluctant to press ahead without you.
Summary: Marriage is not what you thought it would be with Kotoyuki, yet he still attempts to uphold his promises to love and cherish you. At the local festival, a face from your past reappears and a new side of your husband becomes known.
Content/Warning(s): GAME SPOILERS, Silent Hill F themes around marriage, Reader unable to distinguish what is real or not, manipulation present, doubt of self/reality, yandere themes (possessive, willingness to kill), minor character death, implied past trauma to reader, talks of vomiting (no vomiting occurred)
A/N: Erm, idk. I really wanted to explore Silent Hill in both its metaphorical presentation while also playing into it's literal self. I really hope that comes across well in this. This can be read as a follow up of sorts to The Smiling Fox, but it doesn't have to be read in order to understand this. Also apologies for making the reader seem so off... but i figure with the amount of trauma that happens it would make sense. I half hated this, half liked it but overall i think it turned out well. So I hope you guys enjoy.
It was strange being married to Tsuneki Kotoyuki.
After the rituals were completed and you were officially wedded to him, you weren’t sure what was real or not. You remember hazily that you cut off your own arm, had it replaced, and part of your face was removed and fashioned with a fox mask. You remember physically changing into the faceless creature haunting the thick fog. You remember the pain and the tears and Kotoyuki’s presence.
The next morning you were physically you. Yet, it didn’t feel like it at the same time.
Once all was said and done, the mist and growth that took over the town receded and the demented creatures you saw and battled were no longer around. The mask that adorned your husband’s face is no longer present, but simply a decorative piece on the wall of your shared home. You still catch glances of the horrors you faced in the corner of your eyes or you see that transformed version of yourself in brief looks into the mirror, which keeps you on the edge of sanity. Well, with what little you had left after everything. The trauma you faced changed you and your mental health has suffered for it.
As the months passed, marriage was not what you hoped for it to be, at least in public. With the scrutiny of Kotoyuki’s parents always present on how you both should be, he was often stoic and sometimes cold towards you; leading you and making decisions for you. It is as if you were merely his shadow now that you gave yourself up to him and his clan. It wasn’t that he wanted to be distant with you but it is what is expected of him and you. It made the marriage feel off, like it was a simple ruse that benefitted his family somehow, though you started feeling that after the rituals and ceremony were completed, when everything cleared.
In private, though, he is doting and sweet, almost to a smothering degree, like he promised. When his family isn’t watching yours or his every move, you almost feel like you were equal to him. He listens to your concerns, input, and whatever may be on your mind. While he can’t, or perhaps won’t, do anything that would upset your in-laws, he tries to make up for it when it is just you two. His touches are soft and it’s as if he knows you’ve always felt touch-starved before. When he can’t be affectionate in public, he doubles it in private.
It gave you whiplash and while you deeply savored the soft moments that allowed you a semblance of comfort and what marriage could be, the day and night behavior made you almost miserable. And you can tell Kotoyuki knows this. His hands were tied but he tried. He truly tried to uphold his promise to love you and make you happy…and it made everything that felt fake seem real, further confusing you.
Was this affection for you or something to placate you and keep you compliant?
You couldn’t tell and sometimes… you didn’t want to dwell on that possibility.
Sweet and loving, cold and stoic; those were the two sides of him you witnessed and lived with. But a third finally reared its head: possessive, jealous, and violent.
It was a rather peaceful morning with you and Kotoyuki enjoying breakfast and tea together. It is silent but he sat right next to you, hand on your knee, as you both stared out at the surrounding scenery outside what you both called home. It felt like a rare moment of clarity for you. For just a moment, sitting with your husband in tranquil peace, had you feeling almost normal. No haunting nightmares the night before, no shadows or glimpses of fog in the corner of your eyes.
It was a day for just you and him. No plans. No family obligations. Just you and him existing.
Kotoyuki looked at you and smiled softly. For a moment you see that mask on him, but it disappears when you see the warmth in his gaze. That was the only vision that never really frightened you like the others. Perhaps because of what you felt were positives during that period in the fog, the sight of the mask gave you great comfort. His hand gently squeezes your knee before he leans in and places a ghost of a kiss to your cheek. While he is affectionate, he never crosses a line you set. Your past had you hating intimate touches but slowly you’ve grown accustomed to his.
“What would you like to do today?” He murmurs. His voice is still so smooth and sweet on your ears. You fiddle with the warm cup in your hands as you mull over his question. “The day is yours.”
“I’m not sure. Relaxing so far has been nice.” You reply softly and take a sip of your tea. “There is one thing I have in mind… but…” Your voice trails off.
Kotoyuki tilts his head. “Go on. Tell me.”
“The local festival seems interesting.” Your voice is almost a whisper. You see the way his lips press together and you already know what he is thinking. “I know. It’s-”
“We will go if that is what you want, my darling.” Kotoyuki is quick to reply. His hands take one of yours and he holds it close to his chest. “I know you enjoyed it as a child. It would bring me great joy to take you.”
You weren’t sure how he knew that but you didn’t question it. You never question much anymore.
You manage to give him a genuine smile and you seem him practically beam at being able to please you. “Thank you, Kotoyuki.”
“I don’t expect my parents to be there… so just relax. We will have a good time together, I promise.” You feel that he was reassuring you both with that statement.
You both go when the sun sets, dressing in simple, yet traditional clothes. When you both leave and walk to where the festival is being held, you take the initiative to loop your arm with his. You can tell by the smile he was trying to conceal that little action you did pleases him. It makes a rare warmth grow in your chest.
The festival is decorated with various lanterns hanging above the walk ways. There are abundant booths for food, trinkets, or medicinal remedies. It is packed with people and out of instinct and your own worries, you move yourself a little closer to your husband. You feel your heart rate spike and you start to see things in the corner of your eyes.
Kotoyuki leans in close, whispering against your ear. “Be calm. I am with you.”
Slowly, you suck in a deep breath before exhaling. Those creeping visions along your peripheral vanish for now. You tentatively nod and he leads you through the crowd and slowly, you relax.
Whenever you show interest in a booth, Kotoyuki makes sure to stop. If you stared at an item a little too long he would buy it. Any snack that made you lick your lips? He got one for you both to share.
You felt lighter for the first time in months. You felt almost like yourself again. You were smiling and holding onto Kotoyuki as if nothing happened before. And he was more carefree as well. It is like the marriage was truly something special.
You take a moment to excuse yourself for the restroom. You were almost hesitant to leave your husband's side but you couldn't hold out much longer. The line to the bathrooms was terrible but once you got inside, did what you needed, and got out, you felt ready to explore the festival some more.
You move back to the main street, yet you don't see Kotoyuki anywhere. You glance around but see no food stalls. Where could he have gone? Should you wait? You felt panic grip your body at the realization you were left alone. The one person you solely depend on now is gone. What would be said about you? About him? What if that fog starts to roll in and everything comes crashing down? What if he left you, despite all his promises?
You weren’t thinking rationally… or were you? What is real with Kotoyuki? You grip the side of your head and start to walk where you know the entrance is. Maybe he got lost and is simply waiting for you. Or maybe this is a test from his parents to see if you would return home.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
The answer is blaring but you won't ruminate on it. To admit it is to admit that you've been tricked and manipulated into what is supposed to be a happy life. What you think you have with Kotoyuki, private or not, may all just be manipulation. The careful reality you were trying so hard to build up and depend on could crumble away and leave you broken.
You get to the end of the street where you and your husband entered. It was almost dead, save for a few wanderers, whereas the festival was packed. Your breathing comes out in harsh breaths as you try so hard to take some semblance of control, even if it's for just a moment. You try really hard not to cry and to be brave.
You freeze when you hear a familiar, male voice behind you. You turn around stiffly and see a familiar face from your past. A friend from your childhood whose name you can’t place. But you recall feelings of platonic fondness for him before those feelings shift into ones of betrayal and pain.
“Wow, it's been so long.” He grins as he comes up to you but his face softens. “What's wrong? You seem upset.”
You're not sure what to do, so your brain goes on autopilot. “I'm fine. Just looking for someone. We got separated.”
“Oh, that's a shame. You're lost and alone like you were when you were a kid… but don't worry. I'm here.” He tsks softly and steps toward you. You freeze, unsure what to do as you battle your own mind in the midst of your panic.
“It's… It's okay. I will just wait for him here. I'm sure he is looking for me.”
“Him? Did you finally settle down?” He chuckles with mirth. There is a glint in his eye that makes your blood go cold. His arm raises and his hand is placed on your shoulder. You recoil from his touch but when you try to step back he doesn't let go. “I remember how you used to cling to me. Why are you trying to leave me again?”
His voice made you sick as memories slam into your head. Rough grasps, pain, hushed voices… All came from him.
He called your name again and his grip tightened, pulling you closer. “We had good times together, don’t you remember?” His free hand moves up to touch your face.
A dash of white crossed your vision and a splash of hot liquid splatters across your face. You hear near animalistic snarls and gargled sounds of pain. Slowly, you turn your head to the left and nearly vomit. Standing over that figure from your past is Kotoyuki, his body tense and rippling with energy that makes you blink twice. Thick, red liquid drips from his hand and claws.
“How dare filth like you touch what is mine.” Kotoyuki’s voice is no longer that sweet and smooth tone you are used to. Instead it is feral and akin to growls. His words weren’t soft but possessive, angry, and jealous. All qualities you haven’t seen from him.
The man tries to reply but nothing but wet noises of pain leave him. Your eyes briefly flicker to the ground and you see some sort of pink, fleshy lump at the feet of the man.
“Fox got your tongue?” Kotoyuki sneers before his foot kicks the man in the chest, keeping him down. “After all the harm you did… you think you can come back and touch what does not belong to you? Do you think you can recause all the pain you did?”
How does he know about something you barely remember?
It’s a fruitless question to ask anymore.
“No harm will come to what is mine. My love. My heart. They are all mine.” He snarls and you flinch your eyes close when he strikes the man again. The noises were awful but quick to end. You barely reopen your eyes and you cannot stop the whimper that escapes you at the visceral sight of the now bloody and torn corpse.
Kotoyuki instantly turns around to face you and right now you see the fox mask on his face. Blood is splattered all over his white clothes and his eyes are glowing. In a blink of an eye he is in front of you and unlike the other times you saw just flashes of the fox mask back on him, it still is there. It’s not vanishing and you fear the fog is going to roll back in.
“Shh… It is okay, my darling.” He coos softly, his bloody nails ghosting over your cheek without ever touching. He lets out a soft click of his tongue and brings up his sleeve, wiping away the blood that got on your face. “Do not fret. We will get you cleansed when we head back home. Everything is alright.”
“Kotoyuki…” You whimper his name, fear lacing your voice. You see him frown. Despite everything, you never expressed fear towards him. “You… You killed him.”
“I had to.” He is quick to respond, his voice unwavering and firm. “He had intended to harm you. He wanted to take you from me. My precious love.”
“But-”
“But nothing.” His hand cups your cheek and for the first time he kisses you deeply as if to silence you. The nose of his mask nudges your face. His hand moves to your jaw, gripping it slightly while his other grips your clothes. He is clinging to you as if you were about to disappear. He breaks the kiss but stays in your personal space. His breath is hot against your face as his eyes glowed that familiar golden hue beneath his mask. It still hasn’t disappeared. “What is mine was threatened by him and I do not share.”
His hand briefly tightens on your jaw. His eyes seemed to be glowing brighter as he scanned your face. Kotoyuki leans down for a moment and deeply inhales your scent, a rumble leaving his chest.
You can’t stop another whimper and that gets him to blink, clarity hitting him. He turns to caressing your jaw and trails his fingers down your neck. He swallows thickly before taking his other hand to close your eyes.
“Kotoyuki.”
“My apologies. I am a terrible husband.” He mutters softly. You grip one of his wrists, wanting him to stop obscuring your vision but he is firm and unyielding. “Of course you are frightened. That terrible man appeared and I wasn’t there in time to keep all… this from happening.”
Kotoyuki removes both hands from your person and steps back, giving you a deep bow out of apology. No longer was the fox mask on his face, nor was there blood on his hands; his claws gone as well. You blink and go to look at the body, but Kotoyuki takes your hand and pulls you into a hug.
“Please, forgive me. I cannot risk losing you.” He sounds almost to tears and your heart clenches. You squeeze your eyes shut and tentatively hug him back. You tell yourself this is manipulation… but when you feel him nuzzle the crook of your neck, his face wet from tears, you can’t help but give in. Reality does not seem clear, but this moment feels too real to be fake. Right?
“I forgive you, Kotoyuki.” You whisper just loud enough for him to hear. You hear a happy sound, although muffled, against your skin and he hugs you tighter.
“You are my life.” He murmurs, pulling away to kiss your forehead softly. He smiles at you with all the love in the world. That crazed and possessive look is completely gone. Once again the feeling of whiplash hits you as he leads you away from the scene and the festival, taking you back to the house. His grip on you is tight but he is murmuring soft apologies and words of endearment on the journey back home.
Your feet are unsteady but he stays stable for you. Despite your reality never being stable anymore, at least Kotoyuki provides something for you to cling on to, albeit he is still something turbulent but consistent. It is likely on purpose, keeping you in a state where you needed him. But for now, it’s a comfort you need.
That night you had a nightmare. You recall bits and pieces of it. The man from earlier is prominent in them. Some scenes are of what to be simple moments of walking together to school, or sharing lunch. But they took a darker turn. You feel harsh hands grip your throat, pain in various places. You see an evil grin on the man’s face and you recall a moment of puking.
Your name is chanted over and over again until your eyes snap open and Kotoyuki is staring down at you in concern.
“You’re crying. What’s wrong?” He asks softly. His hand, much softer than the one in your dreams, frames your face while the pad of his thumb swipes away the hot tears. “You haven’t had a nightmare in days.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, my love. Tell me what happened.”
“Just… memories coming back to me. They were all that man from earlier.” You bring up your own hand to swipe under your jaw and neck where tears trailed down.
“That man is in your dreams?” You hear a slight growl in his voice and you are surprised to see that possessive, jealous look back in his eyes. You feel him move his hands under your arms and next thing you know you are draped over his body. One of his arms wraps over your lower back while his other hand caresses up and down your spine.
You freeze at the position, never having slept like this with him before, but the soft hum makes you relax almost instantly.
“Listen to my heartbeat. Smell my scent. Think of only me before you sleep.” He whispers to you. “I will protect you in your dreams. Just let me in. Let me help you.”
You weren’t sure what it was, but when he resumes his humming of that tune, you are lulled back to sleep. You see the man again in your dreams, but you see Kotoyuki too, his face mask on as he slaughters the man.
This time, you stay asleep and find yourself oddly comforted by the sight.
so. i adore the creepy manipulative fox god. are any of us surprised?
written for day one of kinktober - possessive sex, ft. fox mask in all of his forms (and i do mean all - proceed with caution unless getting freaky with a giant sentient fox monster happens to be on your bucket list).
(also, i try to keep reader inserts out of the main tags, hence why i didn’t use the spoiler tag here, but we warned: spoilers for the game ahead (as well as some stretching/reinterpretation of canon lore - all in the name of smut lol, don’t take this too seriously)
tw: possessiveness, biting, knotting, use of the term ‘bride’ in relation to reader (though reader is completely gender neutral)
MINORS DNI
ao3
carve me out a home (fox mask/kotoyuki x gn!reader, silent hill f)
He thinks little of you upon your first meeting.
Newcomers are a rarity in Ebisugaoka, and while you certainly stick out like a sore thumb in the dwindling sea of familiar faces, there’s nothing particularly interesting about you. The fox bears you no mind for quite a long time, only briefly taking note of you whenever you happen to be in his vicinity.
That is, until he begins to notice one of his long-forgotten shrines, smaller than most and tucked away off the mountain path, has begun to receive offerings again. It isn’t Shu’s doing - the boy had departed from the village years ago - but the scent that clings to the gifts is a familiar one, one the fox has grown to recognize over the weeks since your arrival.
Despite his certainty, the fox waits beside the shrine for another day and a half until you come strolling down the path, a rucksack on your back and a small bundle wrapped in patterned cloth cradled in your palm.
The fox makes no attempt to hide as you approach, tail swishing gently over the earth. You slow to a stop as you spot his crimson coat, surprised to see him, before a slow smile begins to spread along your lips.
“My, aren’t you a handsome fox?” you croon gently, not daring to approach him, but kneeling so that your eyes are level with his. From your neck dangles the strap of a camera, he notices, cementing your status as a tourist to these lands, though the fox cannot imagine what might have led you to Ebisugaoka. Any wonders that may have existed in this place have long since vanished or been worn away by time and strife, as are all things.
Still, the fox finds himself preening at your praise. It has been years, he recalls, since anyone had paid him the respect he deserves. “This must be your shrine, hmm?” you continue, gesturing to the worn shrine and the detritus of past gifts strewn about its surface: a gleaming five-yen coin, a satchel of high-quality tea, a flower plucked from the path. “I hope you’ve been enjoying my offerings.”
The fox dips his head in acknowledgment, and though you falter, surprised by his apparent intelligence - or perhaps the illusion of it, in your mind - you’re quick to rally yourself, ducking down to place your bundle on the offering plate. “I hope you have a sweet tooth,” you laugh gently, rising to your feet and dusting off your knees as the fox sniffs at the cloth - this close, the scent of higashi is unmistakable. “I’ll be sure to bring something more palatable tomorrow,” you promise, before humming inquisitively to yourself. “Hmm. What do foxes like to eat?”
The next few days persist in much the same manner. The fox waits near his shrine for the familiar trod of your boots upon the ground, paws crossed patiently while you place that day’s offering upon the shrine. You croon over his crimson pelt and sharp, intelligent eyes, sometimes settling on the opposite side of the path to sketch his likeness in a notebook you pull from your rucksack. Sometimes you take his photo, the large, reflective lens mounted on top of your camera catching the waning sun filtering through the canopy above and wreathing your head in soft, golden light.
You keep your distance from him, for the most part, not daring to come within snapping distance of his jaws, but you hold your ground whenever he chooses to approach, your body tense and still but your eyes full of quiet awe as he darts around your side, the end of his bushy tail brushing against your boot.
“Amazing,” you breathe, and the fox’s chest grows warm - a warmth he hasn’t felt in decades. A warmth he covets.
A warmth he craves.
You are not what he would expect of a bride-to-be, admittedly, but it is in that moment, with your gaze warm upon his, that the fox decides - you are to be his.
It is a simple desire, and a familiar one - one he will not see squandered for the second time. He has had decades to ruminate on his failings with Hinako, and will not see you slip from his claws as she did.
No, this time around, the fox will not resort to cunning deceits to win your heart. No intricate planning or careful manipulation or reliance on human tradition.
He will court you as a fox does.
He begins with a round, perfect peach placed delicately on your windowsill. A mouthful of fresh, red berries comes next, followed by a sprig of mint, a crow’s feather, a delicate silver chain missing its pendant.
“Is this your doing?” you marvel, catching sight of his crimson fur one fair morning after he’s left his latest offering upon your windowsill - a spider lily, its petals brilliantly red and its stem bearing the mark of his bite. A thin layer of fog has settled on the ground, wreathing his paws in mist, but your gaze - soft, surprised - warms him straight through. The fox dips his head and you laugh, breath huffing in disbelief even as you hold the lily close to your heart and call, “T-thank you!” through the fog.
He sticks close to you, after that. His gifts have been accepted, his intentions made clear. He will not allow another to dart in and whisk you away before he has the chance.
He will not allow you to leave.
“I wish I could stay longer,” you confide in him one afternoon, your back nestled against a tree while you sketch the landscape in varying shades of blue and green. There is a sadness to your voice that calls to him, a wistful ache the fox has felt often in the last few lonely decades he has spent without a companion, and it is with utmost certainty that he decides - now.
It is time to make you his bride.
When next you wake, it is not to the worn, sagging wood ceiling of your accommodations in town, but to the high rafters of his home, the alter laden with gifts and the statues of his kin staring down at you with bared fangs and laughing eyes.
“Where am I?” you mumble softly to yourself, not yet alarmed, but confused. You must think yourself dreaming, the fox assumes, amused, and yet his humor fades as you rise from the floor, clad in loose linens in preparation for bed and soft-eyed with sleep.
Desire pulses in the pit of his belly as he emerges from the shadows, no longer slender and small, but powerful and crimson-eyed, his many tails whipping against the ground as he approaches you.
“You are home,” he rumbles, and you gasp at the gleam of his many teeth.
“Who are you - ?” you start, breathless with awe, with fear. The fox trembles as your wide-eyed gaze drinks him in, and bows his head.
The familiarity of the gesture is not lost on you. “The fox… ?” you murmur questioningly, and his maw lifts in a grin.
“Yours,” he counters, his claws clicking against the wooden floor as he circles your form. “As you are mine.”
You swallow. He watches your throat bob with interest. “I don’t understand.”
“My bride,” the fox reiterates, nostrils flaring as he spots the glimmer of silver around your throat - the chain he had given you, worn like a prize. “My mate.”
“Mate,” you repeat, the word catching on your tongue. You take in his bulk, the lashing of his many tails, his maw of sharp, white teeth. “I don’t - how - ?”
The fox growls, relishing in the hitching of your breath as the sound vibrates down the length of your spine. “I will show you.”
You grunt as his muzzle nudges your chest and urges you to the floor, your palms rasping along the wood and your body trembling beneath the hot gush of his breath.
“Are you going to eat me?” Your voice is soft, small, and though fear cleaves to the words there is also wonder. Fascination. He wonders if you still believe yourself dreaming.
“No,” the fox laughs, voice gritty with desire. “I’m going to taste you.”
You yelp as his teeth rip into your clothes, baring your body and sending gooseflesh erupting along your naked skin. You shiver beneath the heat of his crimson gaze but make no effort to cover yourself - perhaps sensing the futility of it, or simply too stunned to care.
The inviting splay of your limbs coaxes him to creep closer, to touch, to taste, and so the fox does exactly that, your shoulders twitching and the buds upon your chest pebbling beneath his tongue as he laves at your flesh. You cling furtively to his snout as he explores, as though you actually possess the power to stop him should he truly wish to devour you, and laughter rumbles in the fox’s throat as he noses at the soft skin of your belly, down, down, until his tongue catches against the warmth of your sex.
“Ah,” you whimper, blunt nails scratching at his snout as you cling desperately to his fur.
The fox growls roughly in return, closing his eyes as he becomes lost in your taste. He laps at your sex until it swells against his tongue, your own fluids and his saliva leaving you wet and dripping. Until you’re writhing beneath him, chest heaving with the strength of your cries and flesh growing damp with sweat and hot to the touch, a heat the fox finds echoed in the grip of your body after he’s found your entrance and prodded at the muscle with the flat of his tongue.
The guttural cry you release as he slips inside sends his tails lashing across the ground, his pulse quickening as you gape and cling to his tongue. His desire to bury himself in your heat quickly grows to a fever pitch, along with his mounting frustration that your body cannot possibly take him in his current form. No matter.
You let out a broken cry as he rips his mouth away from you, only to gasp as he returns to the circle of your arms with hands to grasp at your flesh and lips to catch your own in hunger. In Kotoyuki’s form he fits between your thighs like he belongs there, his tongue slick against your own and his silver hair unbound, wound between your grasping fingers and clinging to your knuckles.
“How - ?” you breathe against his mouth, your eyes glazed, darting across the planes of his face in wonder. “What - who are you?”
“Call me Kotoyuki, if you must,” the fox pants, nosing at the line of your jaw and sealing his lips to the pulse point on your throat. You moan at the scrape of his teeth along vulnerable flesh, thighs shuddering as he drags them over his hips and the flared head of his cock catches against your entrance.
“Kotoyuki,” you whine, the syllables breaking on your tongue as he sinks inside you. “Kotoyuki.”
“Yes” the fox hisses, baring his teeth at the snug, wet heat of you. “Again. Again.” Each plea is punctuated with a roll of his hips, your body cleaving to his as desperately as the fingers clutching at his silver hair and the thighs clinging to his waist.
“Kotoyuki,” you keen, and the fox growls, burying his teeth in the arch of your throat and thrilling as you shudder against him, hard, your body jerking and your nails catching within silver strands.
Yes, he thinks as his hair pulls taut between your fingers and pain lances through his scalp. Mark me as I have marked you. Make me yours as I have made you mine. My mate. My bride.
You cry out as though you’ve heard his plea, your walls fluttering around his cock, and the fox pants harshly as he feels his knot begin to swell, his tails - leashed as they are - lashing, your name thick upon his tongue.
Soon you will be inseparable, his flesh locked with yours - filling you, claiming you, as you were always meant to be claimed, until no other creature would think to touch you, tempt you, take you.
Pyramid Head!Sukuna x Reader (Yuji x Reader implied)
Synopsis: When Yuji receives a letter from his long-lost love, he returns to Silent Hill searching for answers. You follow him into a town where grief becomes monsters and memories twist reality. In the fog, a towering executioner watches. As Yuji’s guilt surfaces, you begin to realize that in Silent Hill, punishment is never random.
Tags for this story: Spoilers for Silent Hill 2, body horror, disturbing imagery, violence, dark themes, childhood trauma, monsters, Smut(f)(dub-con)
Masterlist
Chapter 1: Road to Silent Hill
Chapter 2: Eastern South Vale
Chapter 3: Wood Side Apartments
Chapter 4: Blue Creek Apartments
Chapter 5: Western South Vale
Chapter 6: Brookhaven Hospital
Chapter 7: Brookhaven Hospital Otherworld
Chapter 8: Marionette House
Chapter 9: Lakeview Hotel
Fanart by: pedro_renji on Twitter/X
Dividers by: @\fae-and-wolf
Note: Chat, this was my first fanfic ever, so I’d really appreciate any opinions/constructive criticism anyone wants to share, just please keep it respectful. 😔
Can I pretty please with sugar on top request pyramid head x male reader just straight smut.
Like in the dead by daylight world the reader is a survivor and during a game he gets caught by pyramid head and instead of being killed he just throws reader over his shoulder, takes him somewhere private and they just go at it plz 🙏
Title: captured
Pairing: pyramid head x male reader
Chapter: one shot
Fandom: silent Hill, dead by daylight
Genre: smut
Warnings: NSFW, smut, gay, gay sex, male reader, bottom reader, pyramid head has a big dick, reader is a monster fucker
Notes:
Summary: I'm weak to silent Hill, it's my favorite horror series
🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛🌜🌛
(name)s eyes widened when the machine made a loud bang, the man fucked up trying to repair it and he knew... He was going to hunt him down.
Shakily standing he ran away, he didn't know how he got here or where he was... He just knew he had to get the fuck out. He felt his chest hurt from lack of breath as he locked eyes with pyramid head only a few yards away, the fucker was terrifying... His sword huge and he didn't even know if he or... It was human.
He felt the creature gain on him, catching up as he hopped a window and hid in a locker, letting out a breath... He should be safe for no-- fuck! The door ripped open and there stood pyramid head and he grabbed him by the throat, enough to hold him but not enough to snap his neck and (name) grabbed at his shoulders and chest to try and get away and ignoring how ripped the other was. He was slammed against a wall and (name) felt something press against his thigh and looked down to see... "Oh..." He murmured, feeling flustered "I was prey... But not in that way" he huffed a laugh and his hand moved down and palmed at the others huge cock "damn... Everything is big" he murmured and removed the others rags and the thick cock spring out, a solid ten inches and would definitely stretch his jaw.
Tentatively he gave a few pumps and grinned when he got a small reaction, the pyramid headed creature bucking his hips and (name) dropped to his knees, his monster fucker ass wouldn't miss an opportunity.
He licked the tip before taking it in his mouth, eyes widening when a strong hand grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth all the way down to the hilt and began fucking his throat without care and all (name) could do was hold onto his hips and do his best to not choke. (Name) Let his throat get fucked and reached down to touch himself and fell into a haze as he eventually got cum pumped down his throat and down his chin and the creature pulled away and lifted him. He gripped the others shoulders while the creature pinned his legs up, back pressed against the wall "w-wait I need pre--holy fuck!" He cried as the creature slowly pushed in, inch by inch and letting (name) grow adjusted to each inch and halted when it was all in "fuck... You're too big" he managed before pyramid head began thrusting.
His thrusts slowly picked up and (name) moaned and gasped, letting himself be used as a toy for the others enjoyment, toes curling as pyramid head imprinted his cocks shape into the other. (Name) Moved his head under the others massive mask and found the others lips, gasping and whining into his mouth. Teeth clashed and tongues wrapped around each other as (name)s prostate was smashed with each thrust and he couldn't hold back his orgasm.
His hips spasmed while he came between them but the other didn't stop, if anything he fucked harder and more aggressively "mmhf!" (Name)s mouth was devoured as the creature chased his own pleasure before giving a few shaky thrusts and pumped his second orgasm deep within (name)s stomach "fuck..." He managed before he was taken by the other, a portal opening and (name) fell into it and looked around to see a small bedroom and outside a window... It was all fog.
