Chapter Text
The cut of his blade never came. Instead, he gripped around your waist and lifted you up to place you on the altar, the cold smooth stone chilling your feverish skin as you looked up at him. You realized then that you never set the terms of your offering, and it seemed he had decided to take a sacrifice of flesh instead of blood, your skin heating up even more at the thought.
Calloused, near-familiar hands slowly trailed along your body as the screams of the congregation started dying down, pools of blood and body parts lying around, scattered on the stone floor. A breathy sigh escapes you as he gently explores, a stark difference to your first non-violent encounter that had left you with very obvious bruising, only now starting to fade away.
His thumb brushes over your nipple and you moan lightly at the sensation, making him stop for a moment before repeating the motion, taking in the way your legs twitched and your back arched in pleasure with a soft, low grunt. His skin-leather apron was visibly tented, and you reach down to try and touch him, but he gently pushes your hand away before bringing his own down to rub along your folds, making you lean your head back against the cold stone before a familiar voice calls out from behind his powerful frame.
“Whore! You’ve no idea what you’re bringing upon yourself, God will smite you for your sins!” Abigail stood almost victoriously in the middle of the circular room, staring and pointing at you as her nostrils flared. She seemed almost undisturbed by the chaos around her, despite the monsters closing in on her, the blood of the other members still fresh and glistening on their sickly pale skin.
A different desire suddenly popped into your head and with a wave of your hand, the Executioner halted the monsters, their grotesque, unsteady forms swaying in place as they waited. You sat up and, with a soft hand, pushed him away to stand beside you, ignoring the pulsing heat between your legs for the moment, walking towards Abigail with a confident step. As you stopped only a few steps away from her, she seemed to shrink, her nostrils no longer flaring in anger but in fear, eyes wide and stance defensive. Leveling her with a cold stare and a colder smirk, you spoke;
“Your God is dead, and I killed her.”
A snap of your fingers, and the creatures all start advancing again, the sound of their footsteps echoing throughout the church as Abigail keeps still, seemingly wanting to preserve her dignity before death, her face set in a stony expression, her eyes being the only thing betraying her, filled with fear. You scoffed at her before turning and walking back towards the altar, your faithful Executioner standing patiently beside it.
Abigail's determination seems to crumble when the monsters actually reach her, her screams ringing in your ears like the toll of a church bell as she tries in vain to fight them off. You ignore her, instead letting Pyramid Head lift you back into place on the altar, his hands gripping you firmly as you smile up at him, feeling something akin to peace.
The sound of her agonized cries die as quickly as they started, the monsters now wandering aimlessly, some of them bending down to tear at the chunks of flesh scattered on the floor.
Having his hands on you again, you quickly drift back into the horny mindset you had pushed back in order to confront Abigail, soft whines escaping your lips as you lay back against the cold stone, a shiver running down your spine from the mix of temperatures.
He was gentle as he touched you; an obvious contrast to your first encounter but not one you opposed. Your breath hitched as he rubbed against your clit, and a daring thought entered your mind. When you started moving to sit up, he stopped his own movements, somehow managing to look confused even without a face. You shot him a wicked smile, eyes still half-lidded, as you moved to sit on the edge of the altar. You noticed your head was still too high up to be comfortable, so you looked around for something shorter to sit on.
Finally your eyes landed on a somewhat-sturdy looking chair, jumping down and walking over to grab it and bring it back to where he still stood, having not moved an inch except turning his head to watch you.
You quickly placed the chair where you wanted it and grabbed one of his hands to pull him into place, ignoring the excitement building in your stomach. When he stood where you wanted him, you sat down on the chair and reached forward to pull away his apron, but he gripped around your wrist before you could. Looking up at him in confusion, you assumed he needed assurance.
“I want to do this, I want to make you feel good too.” Your voice was soft, and the confirmation seemed to please him as he released your wrist and let you continue, his heavy breathing reverberating through his helmet as he watches you, hands hanging still by his sides.
You weren’t sure what you had expected, but the mostly normal looking dick in front of you wasn’t quite it. You had never seen it during your first coupling, too preoccupied with the fear that he would kill you to care much, but having it in front of you like this, without it looking grotesque or monstrous was almost weird.
It was normally sized considering his towering stature, with a fat, almost spongy head and a few veins running along a thick, heavy shaft. Oddly enough, he didn’t have testicles, but as you ran a few fingers along the area where they should have been, you noticed there was no scar indicating castration either. Maybe he was created like that, to ensure he wouldn’t procreate, although it wouldn’t make sense to give him a dick either if that was the case.
Ignoring the gnawing thoughts about his genitals, you let your instincts take over, spitting into your hand before slowly starting to jerk him off to the best of your abilities. Gathering as much spit in your mouth as you could, you placed a kiss to the ruddy head before popping it in and gently taking more of it, keeping your hand moving along the part you couldn’t take.
As you started moving your head and settling into a rhythm, swirling your tongue around the head every other time, low grunts started reaching your ears, making your chest swell with pride. His hand reaches up to push against the underside of his helmet, hopelessly trying to move it from its throne on his shoulders, before defeatedly lowering it to your head instead, fingers scraping along your scalp in an almost encouraging motion.
He doesn’t let you go on much longer, big hands pulling you away from his dick as you very nearly whine, eyes following his movements as he backs up and helps you stand from the chair. With a few swift movements, he has you pinned against the altar by one hand, the other dragging down your body, touching you in an almost leisurely way as he slips two fingers back inside of you. It seemed he had wanted to check that you were still stretched out, and his fingers are soon replaced by the head of his spit-slick cock, gently nudging against your entrance. Before he can thrust into you, you hop up on the altar and position yourself on the edge of it, letting your legs hang off the edge as you relax.
He sheathes himself inside of you just as quickly as the first time, although it’s a lot less painful this time. He has one hand on the edge of the altar and the other on your hip, steadying you as he starts to move. You could almost feel the fresco behind you staring at the act in front of her in either disbelief or horror and nearly laughed at the thought, the sound being replaced by a loud moan as he hits a particularly good spot.
His movements are still rough and demanding, but this time it doesn’t feel like he’s forcing you into anything. You want this, and damn if you aren’t going to get it. The hand on the altar moves to rub gentle circles around your clit, causing you to nearly knock your head on the stone as you throw it back. Another perfectly aimed thrust has your entire body arching upwards, hands scrabbling for purchase against the polished stone as he relentlessly pounds into you. Your pleasured sounds bounce off the walls of the church, defiling the sacred space in the best way.
That familiar sparking feeling along your spine and the rumbling heat in your gut flare up, and you place your hand on top of his on your hip, feeling the way his grip on you tightens.
“Please.” You beg for him, voice light and airy as you reach up to stroke along the edge of his helm. That’s all it takes for his rhythm to start stuttering, hips losing their momentum as he pounds into you with fervor a few more times before he thrusts in as far as he can, cumming inside of you as you clench around him from your own orgasm.
Like last time, he quickly pulls back out and tucks his dick away inside of the apron, but unlike last time he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he scoops you up from your place on the altar and tucks you against his chest, carrying you with one arm as he picks up his knife from the ground with the other.
With his typical twitchy stride, he walks out of the church with you, leaving the bloody mess and the other creatures behind. The sirens must have gone off without you noticing it, because outside it’s calm and foggy, with no signs of the chaos that had occurred only moments before. He seemed to have a destination in mind as he kept walking, not stopping for anything as the church disappears behind you and the larger buildings come into view, a familiar apartment complex catching your eye. Maybe he was bringing you back to your base?
You were correct, although it wasn’t hard to figure out. He set you down on the ground outside of the entrance, then waited. Taking the hint, you opened the door and walked inside, setting up the doorstop to keep it open if he wished to follow. With sure steps, you climbed the stairs up to your room and quickly picked out a comfortable outfit, feeling the temperature now that you weren’t busy getting it on or being snuggled close to a warm chest. Your entire body had gotten goosebumps and a chill raced down your spine as you pulled on the clothes, rubbing your arms to try and get your blood flowing.
A creak outside of your door alerted you to his presence, standing like a statue, watching your every move. It was comforting, even if it shouldn’t have been. You felt safe with him around, and the thought that he might end up killing you anyway didn’t bother you too much. After all, you would either just come back here or be gone forever. With a soft smile, you pick up your spare backpack and walk out the door, motioning for him to follow you.
“Let’s go take a bath.”