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To say you were surprised to have Hank J. Wimbleton breaking down the front door of your run-down, apocalyptic apartment just to shoot his shot with you would be an egregious understatement. You have absolutely no idea what the hell kind of good karma you’ve received to get your wildest dreams and fantasies to come true. It was lucky enough that you survived your first encounter with him, but even more so that your pathetic begging managed to leave enough of an impression on him that he became interested in you. Or rather, obsessed with you? Either way, you didn’t care which one it was; you were just so happy to finally have someone in your life.
Oh, you remember that moment as if it were yesterday. You had first seen Hank in the flesh during a supply run when he got into a fight in your run-down neighbourhood. It was odd to see Agency members out this far, especially where humans lived, but you supposed there was always new territory for them to scout. Scavenging was easy enough as long as you stayed farther away from the densely populated areas of Nevada. The grunts that wandered were mostly disinterested, if not disgusted, by the human life that managed to keep going. Humans were funny that way, always surviving and pushing on, even when life was determined to dig deep into its box of tricks in an attempt to force you into complete and utter extinction.
But you were always the odd one out. While most of the few other humans out there despised the grunts right down to their very DNA, you always found them oddly fascinating. A bit cute, even. Watching Hank fight brutally and efficiently against the Agents sent against him got your blood rushing with excitement. This fascination with the wanted criminal began to border on obsession. You just wanted to see even more of what he was capable of. After he finished the fight, you began to follow him, watching from afar.
Another Agent attempted a sneak attack from a distant alleyway - Hank had caught them almost immediately, ripping their head right off of their shoulders with his gigantic, monstrous hand. He made it look effortless! With nary a thought of potential danger, you continued to tail him, watching every heavy step, every readjustment of gear, every move that he made. That was, until he stopped, turning around to look over one of his broad shoulders.
“Shit!” You had cursed under your breath. You pressed your tense back against the wall and put your hands over your mouth and nose, attempting to muffle any further noises while you strained your ears to listen for footsteps.
When you heard no signs of movement, you tried to still your frantic heart as you slowly peeked around the corner of the building you were hiding behind. Hank was nowhere to be found, the street was completely empty. Disappointment sank in your chest; how could he have disappeared that quickly?! Then again, this was Hank J. Wimbleton you were talking about, if anyone could disappear into thin air like that, it was him. Dejected, you sighed and turned around to start walking back home.
The disappointment within you quickly turned into a distressed, humiliating fear when you ran face first into a hard figure. Not even having enough time to process what was happening, you were dragged several feet up off the ground by your wrists, pinned entirely against the rough brick wall. Hank had you pinned against that rough brick wall. You had opened your mouth to scream, but his other hand covered it swiftly.
You saw Hank’s head tilt to the side in the corner of your eye, as your eyes frantically flicked to spots around the alley, looking for escape routes while avoiding direct eye contact. You hadn’t meant to follow him this far, but you had let your dumbass heart win over your head and now you were unfamiliar with your surroundings. Way to go you, hooray. You moved your head from side to side under his hand, wiggling your short legs in an attempt to get his attention in the least threatening way possible. Ever so slowly, his hand moved from your mouth to wrap strongly around your vulnerable throat. Not hard enough to choke, but enough to let you know he’s capable of killing you very, very quickly if you don’t choose your next words carefully.
You gulped, staring into those red goggles of his. “Mr. Wimbleton? S-sir? Please don’t hurt me! I’m not here to hurt you, I swear! Please, let me go!” This world was fucked up, but you weren’t ready to leave it just yet. You definitely were not above begging for your rather worthless life if it meant you could keep it.
Hank’s hand left your throat and began to travel downwards on your body, patting you down for weapons. Upon finding the meager knife hidden in your boot, he grabbed it and stuffed it into one of his coat pockets. Satisfied that you held no other weapons, he let go of your wrists unexpectedly and let you fall on your ass. You hissed immediately upon contact with the uneven concrete, and watched as his large form began to lumber away from you. Considering his combat experience, it was bold of him to turn his back to you, but at least that let you know he didn’t view you as a threat that needed to be exterminated.
Now unarmed, afraid, and with your ass in pain, you turned around to head back home with no further interruption. Being granted his rare mercy, you decided you were not going to push it by following him again, as much as you rather wanted to. As you rubbed your sore wrists, you could still feel those massive hands of his restraining you, touching you, patting your body down...you tried to fight these feelings, you really did. But you could feel your mind digging deeper into fantasies you knew could never be obtained. You knew so very little about this man, and yet, your obsession with him began to fester and grow. That was exhilarating, You thought and bit your lip, He was exhilarating.
It was that moment of your past with Hank that led to this...unexpected seduction. You’re not sure what brought him back to your side of Nevada, but seeing his monstrous frame skulking around the buildings outside brought your fragile, lonely heart more joy than he could even imagine. Peeping out of a shattered window, you watched him peer into several of the broken structures. Was he looking for something? Surely it had to be Agency related (when wasn’t it, after all?), but...they hadn’t been out this far in weeks. They certainly hadn’t left anything behind either, or you would’ve grabbed it yourself by now.
As if Hank could somehow hear your thoughts, he turned, looked up, and stared directly at you, red goggles reflecting sharply in the light. He looked downwards again and made a mad dash for the entrance of your building, making you scramble away from the window with a yelp. Oh fuck, was he here to finish the job? Was the mercy he granted you weeks ago just a ruse, and now he’s tracked you down to finally put an end to your life? You desperately glanced around the room, weighing the options that you had.
You estimated you had a solid 30, maybe 45 seconds before he climbed up here. Your door was locked, but based on Hank’s sheer size you knew deep down that wouldn’t stop him. He was fast too, but you had a home-field advantage. If you were able to get outside, you could go through one of the back alleys and hide in the sewers. As much as you loathed the idea, it was better than death, even if you ended up smelling like it afterwards. Or maybe if you turned left and weaved through the buildings you could get to the abandoned supermarket? Surely you could find a dark corner there to hide in until you knew for sure he stopped pursuing you. But which exit to go out of in the first place? You could always jump out one of the back windows - no, no that wouldn’t work unless you went at least one more floor down. Knowing your luck you’d bust your leg on the leap down and be a sitting duck for Hank to catch. But would that really be all that bad...?
You shook those wicked thoughts out of your head. Yes! Yes it would! You could let him be the centerpiece in all your perverted fantasies as much as you liked, but in reality, he probably just wanted to snap your neck like a twig! 15 seconds left now, if you counted correctly; you bit your lip and glanced at an old cabinet. You could probably squeeze yourself in there to hide. Hiding would definitely be a better bet than attempting to outrun him. You began to hear distant, heavy footsteps pounding up the old concrete stairs. Heart beating fast in your chest, you dove into the shabby cabinet and shut it tight, right as you heard the front door pound in, chain lock breaking.
Your self-preservation and libido were dueling to the death inside you right now. On one hand, you still very much enjoyed living life and breathing the dusty, arid air of Nevada. Hank was pretty much the embodiment of an ill omen that roamed the wastes, after all. But on the other hand this adrenaline rush was exhilarating. That strength of his was truly something else. So tall...so strong...so...monstrous. He also embodied someone that was capable of defending, protecting, killing for whatever cause or person he deemed worthy to believe in. It was a lonely, lonely life out here, and you dreamed of being someone - anyone’s person. Sometimes the fire that burned in your lower belly was the only thing that kept you warm at night.
The floorboards creaked under Hank’s boots, and you watched through the thin crack of the cabinet doors as he looked around your apartment, picking up various knick-knacks and examining them before setting them back down where he had found them. At least he has some semblance of manners, you thought to yourself. He walked over to your bedroom out of sight and, you assumed, peered inside, entering slowly upon seeing no other living thing. You could hear him rummaging around in there, grumbling and growling incoherently to himself. Footsteps approached once more, passing right by the cramped cabinet you stuffed yourself into. You held your breath as he walked by, heart beating fast like prey being hunted. As you heard his boots hit the cracked tile of your small kitchen, you felt a small tingle in your nose that made your blood run cold. You hadn’t taken into account how dusty this cabinet was before you chose it as your hiding spot. You squeezed your eyes shut, pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, prayed to whatever God could possibly be listening in heretical Nevada; but alas, it was all for naught. You sneezed, loudly.
Hank’s footsteps stopped completely. Your eyes widened as the reality of what just happened sunk in. There was no way you were worming your way out of this one. You heard long strides stalking back towards you, a shadow stopping and covering the light through the small opening. There was a tense moment of pause, before a loud BANG resounded from the top of the cabinet. You squealed, the jarring noise rattling your skull as it reverberated through the cupboard. You heard a light, throaty sound from outside. Was Hank...laughing? Harsh light washed over you when he yanked open the cabinet doors, leaving you disoriented and squinting in the suddenness of it all.
Hank kneeled down in front of you, his large frame completely blocking you in. There was no way you could make a mad dash for it, even if you wanted to. The nails of his taloned right hand sunk into the wood of the cabinet, scratching downwards with an unpleasant, creaky sound. He chuckled again.
“Found...you…” Hank’s voice was deep and rough; each slurred word came out slowly, as if he had to fight hard to force the words up his throat and out of his mouth.
“A-are…” You gulped, “Are you here to kill me?”
Hank shook his head, and your heart just about skipped a beat. One large hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, jerking you out of your hiding place. As you fell out onto your knees, you looked up at him as he stood to his full, intimidating height. You stayed where you were at, frozen like a deer in headlights. Sighing, Hank leaned down and, with his monstrous hand, seized your wrists once more and harshly tugged you up to your feet. It hardly changed a thing - he was so tall that you only reached up to his navel.
“Why are you here?” You asked cautiously, looking up into his red goggles. “I’m sure it’s not a quick trip to come visit this area.”
A single finger of his pointed and pressed into your chest.
“Me?”
Hank nodded.
“W-why me?!”
Hank’s hand moved from your chest to grab your face firmly, fingertips digging into your flesh. He leaned forward a little bit, as if he were getting a closer look at your smushed face.
“Cute…” He rasped.
Okay, now you must’ve died in your sleep or something. First he grants you his mercy, then he tracks you down and breaks into your house to give you a startle and call you cute? Just what kind of games was this man playing?! And why were you oddly into it?!
“You...really think I’m cute?” You murmur, your face growing warm in his unwavering hand. He nods his head.
“Hank,” You started, breathing out a shaky sigh. His grip on your face loosened as you spoke more, “May...may I call you that? Hank?” You really weren’t certain how he would like you to address him. It would be incredibly unwise to anger him, after all.
Hank nodded once more, and as you told him your name in return, his hand moved to give you a couple firm pats on the top of your head. Oh my, that did feel good. You could practically start purring if he kept touching your hair. You haven’t had human contact since...well, since Hank first had you pinned against the wall several weeks ago. Even longer if you discount that experience.
“Hank, I think you’re quite handsome,” You said, pressing your head up into his hand, trying to encourage him to keep touching you, “I enjoyed watching you before; all of the fighting, the blood, and carnage, and-and,” Your eyes fluttered shut, “I haven’t been able to get the memory of it out of my head. You’re so strong…”
You gasped in surprise when you felt sharp talons press into your waist. Hank’s monster hand was almost completely wrapped around your midsection, his sharp nails scraping ever so slightly against your thin clothes. Your face flushed as he easily lifted you up closer to him, his bright red goggles boring into you. Hesitantly, you placed your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the leathery texture of his jacket beneath your fingertips. The two of you continued to stare at each other in an extended silence, neither one making another move. You kneaded at his tense shoulders a little bit, trying not to squirm when you felt some of his claws poking through your shirt.
“Um,” You broke the silence, watching as his head tilted to the side a little bit, “Would you...want to have sex?” You already hooked him in enough that he tracked you down, might as well shoot your shot here too, right? Maybe some of your fantasies could finally come to life. You were starting to feel a little hot and bothered by his display of strength right here.
Hank continued to stare for longer than you felt comfortable with. You hadn’t really expected a verbal answer, but his response was taking a lot longer than the ones before. You felt his fingers sink deeper around you, making you let out an excited wheeze. Hank leaned in towards you again, his face almost pressed against yours. His head nodded a little.
“You do? Want to have sex, that is?”
He nodded once more, this time a little more confident in his answer. Your heart beat a little quicker at the thought and you moved a hand from his shoulder to rub at the crook of his thick neck.
“A-alright then,” You smiled, “Could you walk us to the bedroom, please?”
Hank moved quickly towards your bedroom and tossed you down onto the bed with a quick movement of his arm. You let out a quiet oof upon impact, bouncing on the mattress as he kicked off his combat boots. He moved on top of you in a blink of an eye, hooking his monstrous hand onto your threadbare shirt and ripping it open with ease. You yelped as your breasts were exposed to the chilled air of your bedroom, scraps of your poor t-shirt littering the bedsheets. With nary a second thought, Hank began tugging harshly at your pants, yanking them partially down your thighs before you kicked against him a bit.
“Wait, wait, wait!” You panted, grabbing at his large hands that gripped your shorts, “You’re going too fast! Haven’t you done this before?”
Hank’s grip tightened on your pants the more you squirmed, and his big frame only boxed you in against the bed more. For a split, terrifying second, you worried he didn’t want to wait. Heaven knows there was nothing you could do to stop him if decided he didn’t like the way you just spoke to him. Slowly, he shuffled backwards and sat back on his feet, staring down at you. Hank shook his head in response. Oh. Oh. Well, that certainly makes things a lot more interesting. A pool of warmth gathered in between your thighs at the sinful thought of being the one to corrupt such an...already corrupted man.
“Well,” You swallowed, readjusting your position to match his posture, “Would you like me to show you?”
Hank nods.
Laying back down, you raised your hips, slipping out of your half-removed pants and tossing them unceremoniously to the floor. Clad only in your underwear, you crawled towards Hank on your hands and knees, placing a delicate hand on his jacket.
“Can you take this off for me?” You asked.
Hank nodded once more, and you watched with great interest as his practiced hands moved to fiddle with several belts, the buckles clinking together lightly as he tossed them down with your shorts. His jacket opened up to reveal a tight black shirt, and he slipped his normal arm out of his jacket first before maneuvering it carefully over the spikes on his more monstrous arm. He repeated the same motions with the black shirt he wore underneath. With his jacket and shirt joining the ever-growing pile of clothing, he returned to his former posture, both hands resting in his lap. You almost chuckled at how polite he looked, awaiting your next words.
“Alright, now,” You clapped your hands together, “Let’s swap where we’re sitting, okay? You can lean back against the headboard. There’s also some pillows, if that would be more comfortable!” Although with his height, the pillows would probably only rest against his lower back, offering little support for anything else.
After swapping places, you closed the distance between the two of you again, kneeling between his opened legs. Reaching out slowly, you placed your hands on the mask that he wore over his lower face.
“May I take this off for you?” You tilted your head as you asked. You heard his hand grip the sheets a little tighter, but he nodded his head yes to your question.
You smiled gently, moving your hands behind his head to start working at his mask. Furrowing your brow, you felt lost at all the clasps and wiring that your fingers brushed over. You’ve never seen or felt anything so intricate worn over the face before; most Nevadians opted for simple cloth coverings, if anything at all. Reaching one giant hand upwards, Hank led your hands to the main clasp, allowing you to unlatch and take off the surprisingly heavy headgear. Tossing it over to your bedside table, you flinched at the loud clatter it made upon impact of the wooden surface.
“Sorry…” You cringed, glancing back over at Hank. He only shrugged in response.
Hank’s face was still covered, as he wore a simple, dark face mask underneath the bulky head gear. Now that was a lot easier to take off. Setting the cloth mask down - more delicately this time around - on your bedside table, your eyes widened upon seeing the face that was hidden behind it. Hank’s mouth was massive, extending from ear to ear. Needle-sharp, exposed teeth covered his mouth, and he didn’t appear to have lips anymore. Hesitantly, you brought your hands upwards to cup his jaw. It was really cold to the touch, and your suspicions were confirmed: his lower jaw was, in fact, made of metal. It looked rather uncomfortable, if you were being honest. You could see the bolts up towards his ear, and another set sitting where his chin should be. You tilted your head side to side as you examined him.
“You spoke a bit earlier, does this mean your jaw can still move properly?” You inquired in a soft tone, thumb rubbing delicately at the side of his face.
Without skipping a beat, Hank’s jaw fell open, exposing even more pointed teeth to your watchful gaze. But what really caught your eye was the massive tongue that lolled out of his mouth as he did so. Long, a bit on the thicker side, and very wet - it seemed capable of sticking out around 6 or 7 inches outside of his mouth! Slowly, Hank retracted his long tongue, his jaw shutting stiffly once more. It makes sense that he was a man of few words - moving his metal jaw excessively seemed a bit uncomfortable, as rigid as it sat.
You hummed in response to his little display, and leaned in to press a small kiss to his neck, feeling his pulse beat languidly under your lips. A part of you felt a little upset that his heart wasn’t beating faster, considering the fact you were almost naked and touching him excessively. But it probably took quite a bit to get an assassin’s heart racing, huh? You guessed you just had to double down on the seduction levels to achieve your goal.
Your lips kissed downwards and you noticed how different Hank’s skin felt underneath them. It was odd, when you pressed your hand into one of his pecs, it had a similar give to standard human flesh, but could almost be compared to the texture of soft clay. His body was cool to the touch no matter where you felt him up, and you couldn’t deny that it threw you off a little bit. You swiped your tongue against his collarbone and tasted the dry flavor of dust, with a hint of iron. There was no tang of sweat that hit your tastebuds, and it was a peculiar thought to think that his species didn’t have pores.
Letting your teeth graze over his skin, you paused for a moment when you heard him groan. It seemed he rather enjoyed your teeth lightly pressing into him. You bit and licked, bit and licked, from his neck to his collarbone to his upper chest. You were caught by surprise when one massive hand came to cup the back of your head tightly, pressing your teeth deeper into his skin. It got harder to move your jaw away and it suddenly occurred to you that this could be just his plan.
“Bite,” Hank growled out, “Hard…”
You whimpered as you struggled to close your jaw. You didn’t really want to hurt him, but he seemed...a tad enthusiastic about this. His skin was rather tough; too tough to completely bite through like Hank appeared to be urging you to do. Or so you thought - with one final, forceful nudge, your blunt teeth broke through his skin. The bitter, metallic taste of blood flooded your mouth and you heard Hank let out a noise of pleasure. You moved back from his bite wound as quickly as you could, but you were only pushed back into another bare part of his chest.
“Again.” Hank commanded, and with his iron grip on the back of your head, you felt obligated to obey.
Over and over again you bit down hard into Hank’s scarred skin, bound to leave copious other marks from the way this session was going. Hank’s mouth hung open and you felt a drop of drool hit your cheek. His hand slowly loosened its grip on the back of your head, moving downwards to rest on your thigh. You leaned back a bit from the multiple bleeding wounds scattered on his upper body and tried to wipe the blood away from your mouth.
Something warm and wet swiped against your cheek and you gasped when you realized Hank’s tongue was lapping towards your mouth at the blood crusted there. Hesitantly, you opened your mouth and poked your tongue out a bit as an invitation. His long tongue licked the corner of your mouth before tentatively pressing inwards, moving his tongue against yours. Blood and saliva mixed together as Hank’s tongue moved in tandem with yours, and you felt the mix of fluids begin to messily drip outside of your mouth. Unexpectedly, his tongue probed deeper, and you choked when it slid down your throat.
Coughing, you pushed yourself away from Hank, causing his tongue to completely slip out of your mouth with a lewd, wet noise. While recovering from the assault of his tongue, you let your eyes scan his body up and down - although you couldn’t quite see his eyes through those goggles of his, you had a sneaking suspicion he was returning the favor. Glancing between his legs, you could see an impressive outline straining against the front of his pants. That definitely looked uncomfortable, the poor thing. Smiling softly, you reached a hand out and began to rub him through his pants.
“Can we take these off next, please?” You said quietly, hooking a finger onto the belt buckle of his pants. Hank nodded enthusiastically.
Your deft fingers made quick work on his belt, dropping it off the side of the bed. Working on the button of his pants, your perverted thoughts drifted to what you were going to find underneath. What type of underwear did he prefer to wear? You would’ve guessed boxers, but perhaps his species didn’t often wear underthings to begin with?
Undoing the zipper carefully, you were almost a tad surprised to see that your previous guess had been correct. Hank didn’t have any underwear on underneath his pants. You tugged lightly on the garment and he lifted his hips up to allow you to take them off of him completely. When you looked downwards at his now exposed cock, you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper. The outline on his pants certainly didn’t do him justice; he was a lot longer than you had expected, and almost impossibly thick. Reaching out with a shaky hand, you wrapped your fingers around his dick and found you didn’t even come close to touching them together again. Heat rushed between your legs with a dull throb at the thought of him entering you - it was going to be a big stretch for sure. You gave him an experimental stroke, watching as his foreskin pushed up and down with each movement. A small drop of precum leaked from his tip, adding extra lubrication with each rub.
Continuing with your ministrations, you looked up at Hank’s face to see his reaction. His chest rose with much quicker breaths and his head was tilted back slightly in pleasure. You couldn’t quite tell if his eyes were open or shut. Was he really enjoying it this much? You had hardly touched him and he was practically melting in your hand. Then again, if he really was a virgin it made sense for him to be excessively sensitive.
You heard the light creak of Hank’s jaw opening up again, and you smiled when you felt his warm tongue licking at your neck. His tongue curled and pressed into the corner of your mouth once more, trying to get you to open up.
You turned your head to the side to ensure that Hank wouldn’t immediately shove his tongue into your mouth when you opened it to speak. “More gentle with the tongue this time around, please.” You stated, then turned back to offer your mouth and tongue to Hank once more again.
Hank immediately pressed his tongue to yours, more saliva filling your mouth as he kissed you. He took your words to heart, it seems, as he didn’t try to shove his tongue down your throat again. Not that you minded, of course, you actually found it to be rather hot. You were just quite a bit out of practice in taking things like that into your throat and needed him to take these things slow. Moaning against Hank’s tongue, you sped up your hand on his cock and reveled in the muffled groan that fell from his maw.
Letting his tongue slip from your mouth once more, you leaned forwards near his shaft and let the excess spit slide from your tongue onto the tip. You spread the additional lubrication up and down his dick, slick noises permeating the air with every flick of your wrist. Feeling a little confident, you licked a stripe from base to tip, lapping up the precum that was steadily leaking. Was he getting close? You weren’t able to tell. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his hand raised, hovering over your head before thinking better of it and shoving it back down onto the bed.
“You can put your hand on my head, Hank. Just don’t push down, okay?” You said before pressing a wet kiss to the top of his cock. You took in a deep breath before opening your jaw as wide as it could go, attempting to fit as much of Hank’s dick into your mouth as you could. Admittedly, it wasn’t very far, but he seemed to be more than happy that you were doing it. Hank’s hand sank into your hair, fingertips pressing harshly into your scalp. You could feel him tremble a little bit, most likely fighting hard to show restraint. You hummed lightly around him, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head. You almost gagged when his hips suddenly bucked upwards. Pressing your small hands into his muscular thighs, you rubbed small circles into them, trying to non-verbally remind him to stay still.
Hank let out an animalistic growl of pleasure, his monstrous hand tightening on the bed sheets until they ripped under his sharp claws. The salty taste of semen flooded your mouth before you even knew what was happening. You focused all of your attention on swallowing spurt after spurt that poured down your throat, getting really tired of choking on whatever appendage of Hank’s that entered your mouth. Pulling away with a wet pop, you stroked his cock lazily, one last small spurt of cum hitting your cheek and dripping downwards. You brought your thumb to your face and swiped up the mess, licking your finger clean afterwards.
When you looked up at Hank, you had to hold in a small chuckle at his expression. His tongue hung out of his mouth, drool dripping down the side of his metal jaw. That was certainly an enjoyable experience; the noises that you got Hank to make were downright sinful! You were almost a little sad that it had to be over, who knew if he would be able to go for another round? Maybe he would be alright with using that tongue of his instead. The throbbing wetness between your legs was almost unbearable now, and you pressed your thighs together in a sorry attempt to help alleviate it. Before you had time to realize what Hank wanted to do, his taloned right hand shoved you down roughly onto the bed, trapping you underneath him.
Hank’s other hand grabbed at your thigh, spreading your legs wide open for his lustful gaze. He moved to start touching in between them, but hesitated the longer he looked. Did he not know what you had down there? You brought up one of your hands to pat his monster hand gently, hoping he would allow you to lead him again. Slowly, he let you go, his nails scraping lightly over your bare flesh as he readjusted where his hand held up his weight above you.
With all your limbs free to move, you let your hands run slowly down your body, brushing over your breasts, stomach, and stopping at your thighs. You caressed the inside of your thighs, teasing yourself a little bit before touching the area that’s been craving contact the most. Leisurely, you stroked your slit through your underwear with your first two fingers, stopping every so often to circle your sensitive clit. Hank watched like a hawk the whole time, and you noticed his dick twitch in between his legs while he did so. Your eyebrows raised a bit at the sight; he was still painfully hard, even after his first orgasm. It appears his refractory period is...impressively short.
Much gentler this time, Hank’s large hand hooked into your underpants, tugging ever so slightly. “Off…?” He rumbled, head tilting to the side.
You giggled, nodding your head, “Yes, Hank, go ahead.”
More delicate than you would’ve expected from a man of his stature, he slipped your underwear off and tossed them with the rest of the clothes. Now bare before him, you gently grabbed his hand and encouraged him to rub you like you had done earlier. Hesitantly, he pressed his fingers against your inner labia, spreading your slick onto his digits as he stroked up and down. He definitely paid attention to your demonstration earlier, as he circled your clit slowly with his calloused fingers before returning to the same movements before.
“Hank, please, um,” You gulped, struggling with thought as his fingers refused to stop teasing around your swollen clit, “Please put a finger inside me.”
Hank nodded and pressed his middle finger into your vagina, reaching much deeper than you had ever been able to get with your own. His finger slowly pumped in and out of you, each stroke teasingly skimming over your g-spot. You knew this movement was unintentional, but you couldn’t help but moan, letting your eyes flutter shut. You let out a gasp when you felt another finger suddenly insert itself into you, a dull pain settling in as he stretched you out with every languid movement.
Your hands fisted into the blankets, “Curl your fingers, and- and go a bit faster.”
Hank acquiesced, curling his thick fingers deep inside of you. A wave of pleasure hit you as he did so, and once he started moving at a quicker pace it occurred to you that you wouldn’t be lasting long either. Wet squelching sounds filled the air as he fucked you with his fingers, and you could feel that coil of pleasure tighten in your belly. He alternated his thrusts, sometimes curling, sometimes not. What threw you over the edge though, was when Hank’s thumb began to rub small circles over your clit. You hadn’t even asked him to do it! But oh god, it felt so good! You felt that coil in your belly snap, crying out as you clenched tightly around his fingers.
Hank's hand slowed to a halt as you gasped for breath, thighs twitching in aftershock. Your eyes were still closed when you felt his weight leave the bed, the springs creaking noisily. Curious, you opened your eyes and your heart skipped a beat at the sight in front of you. He sank to his knees and harshly grabbed at your hips, yanking your lower half off of the bed. Before you could ask what he was doing, his tongue licked long and hard over your slit. You keened, letting your legs rest over his shoulders while he lavished your pussy with laps of his tongue.
Hank's slightly pointed tongue began to circle your clit, and you couldn't decide if you wanted to yank his head closer or push him away. After your orgasm, you were still insanely sensitive and if he kept this up you had no doubts you'd be coming again within minutes. You cried out upon feeling the tip of his tongue gently press into you, stretching you open inch by inch. It occurred to you very quickly that you underestimated the length of his tongue by several inches. His jaw opened wider and he was able to press his tongue completely inside, beginning to wriggle and caress your inner walls. Both of your hands flew between your legs, grasping desperately at the bandana-clad head that was steadily fucking you with his massive tongue.
You wailed in delight as his tongue moved in and out, curling every so often deep inside of you. There was a dull ache in your pussy from the sheer stretch of taking the long, wet muscle inside, and you couldn't help but drool from the feeling. That little hint of pain with the immense pleasure you were feeling was intoxicating. You locked your legs behind his head and felt him groan against you when your thighs squeezed around him tightly. One monstrous hand came to caress your thigh, the chilled, scaly skin causing goosebumps to dot your legs. You shivered as his talons scraped across your skin, holding you to his face in a bruising grip. You felt his normal hand move upwards, grazing over your overly sensitive clitoris.
“Oh! Fuck! Hank...Hank, do that again!” You cried out, fingernails digging into his bandana.
Hank kept an unrelenting pace with his tongue and began to rub feverishly at your engorged clit. You could feel another orgasm building again, face flushed hot and toes curling against his back. The fact that Hank said he hadn’t done this before boggled your pleasure-riddled mind. You must’ve landed yourself the quickest learner in all of Nevada for him to be this good, this quickly. Sweat dripped down the side of your heated face, god this felt so good, He was so good, you were so close, so close, so- with one final curl of his massive tongue and a flick to your aching clitoris, you let out a loud cry of his name and came hard around his invasive tongue.
Brain wonderfully blank and body slack against the bed, you gasped desperately for air, not even realizing you had been holding it in anticipation. You could feel your heartbeat pound loudly in your ears; the way it hammered against the inside of your chest was the only thing keeping you tethered in this realm. Hank’s tongue twitched inside of your oversensitive vagina and you swear you’ve never moved quicker than before this very moment. Your legs weakly kicked against his back and your hands pushed harshly against his face. Or, they tried to at least, your limbs felt like jelly at this point.
“Please…” You panted, “No more, need...need a break.”
You sucked in a breath as Hank slowly retracted his tongue from your poor, overstimulated pussy. You let out a whimper upon feeling the emptiness inside you, vaginal walls clenching and unclenching over nothing. Hank backed up from your quivering body, letting your legs fall from his broad shoulders and lay limp over the side of the bed. Observing with hazy eyes, you could briefly make out the glisten of his metal jaw in the low light of your room. He wiped his face with his hand and licked the essence off of it. Did you really get that wet? His face seemed soaked. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, watching as he leaned over your tiny frame.
You let your eyes shut comfortably when you felt his hot tongue swipe over your sweaty body. He lapped gently over your sensitive neck, moving upwards to your cheek before going back down again. You felt his hand rub and knead at your thigh roughly. You think he was trying to be gentle in his own way, but there was still a dull ache that his touch left behind. You haven’t even gotten to the main event yet, but you could tell every part of your body was going to be screaming for mercy tomorrow. It’s a good thing you found the notion of it to be a lot more alluring than intimidating.
You placed your hand over Hank’s, moving it from its grip on your thigh upwards to idle on your breast. Hank’s hand hesitated for a moment, finger brushing curiously over your nipple. A quiet moan fell from your lips and you clutched his hand tighter, encouraging him to keep going. You felt Hank’s tongue tentatively flick over your other nipple, and an excited noise of his own fell from his mouth as your back arched upwards towards him. His thumb brushed over your nipple once more, a bit harder this time, before giving your entire breast an appraising roll under his palm. Kneading one breast and lapping at the other, Hank fell into a comfortable rhythm of pleasing your upper body while you caught your breath. Without opening your eyes, you opened your mouth and poked out your tongue, savoring the feeling of Hank’s hot tongue tracing back upwards to accept your invitation. The tip of his tongue prodded yours for a few moments before gently slipping inside. You could taste yourself heavy on the wet muscle, the heady scent enveloping your senses. You moaned around his thick tongue as it slowly pressed deeper. That was a lot more manageable than earlier; a lot more attractive too, since you weren’t immediately gagging at his intrusion. The two of you spent several minutes kissing deeply, his calloused hand alternating between rubbing up and down on your side to groping at your breast.
Taking a deep breath through your nose, you placed a hand on Hank's hard chest and pushed, easing him away from your mouth and body. He looked down at you and quirked his head side to side, hands held stiffly in front of him as he tried to process what you wanted him to do with them. Eyes crinkling, you gave him a satisfied smile, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees with a small grunt. You lowered your head and raised your ass into the air, exposing yourself completely before him. If he hadn’t already been tongue-deep inside you, you might’ve felt a little embarrassed by being put on full display for his lustful gaze.
Hank seemed to know what came next though, as he immediately pounced to drape himself over you. His monstrous hand clawing at the blankets next to your head and normal hand hooking itself around your waist, you groaned as you felt his hips thrust prematurely, his dick slipping against your wet folds and rubbing against your oversensitive clit. You tried your best to crane your neck and peek at his form from over your shoulder.
“Haah...you did a good job preparing me, big guy,” You smiled, sticking a hand between your legs to grasp at his hard cock, “But you still gotta be gentle, okay? Go slow or else it’s gonna hurt me.”
Redirecting the tip of his dick to your vagina, you held it in place for a moment as he slowly pushed his hips forward, officially entering you. Whatever breath you proudly thought you caught was immediately knocked out of your lungs once more. You thought his tongue was thick, but not even that could prepare you for the stretch of him inside you. The head went in smoothly enough, but the sheer girth of him afterwards had you feeling dizzy. Inch by inch he pressed his fat cock further, and all you could do was desperately cling to the bed sheets while trying to relax. After what felt like an eternity inching forward, Hank’s hips finally pressed to your backside, and he was fully hilted.
“Ha...Hank, holy shit, please stay still…” You whined. You felt so fucking full, the pleasure of being stretched bordered on pain. You’ve never taken anything this big before.
Hank obliged, his arm tightening around your midsection as he nuzzled into your neck. You felt his tongue slip out of his mouth again, the wet muscle licking reassuringly against your shoulder blade and neck. You took measured, deep breaths, admiring Hank’s surprising patience while you adjusted to his intimidating size. Slowly but surely, you grew comfortable with the feeling of him deep inside you. You reached out a shaky hand and placed it atop his monstrous one - it hardly took up any space, even if you spread your fingers. Delicately, your fingers wrapped around two of his own, holding them tightly.
“O-okay, Hank, you can move now. Just keep it slow until I say otherwise.” You said, grinding your hips back against him in encouragement.
With a snarl of excitement that sent a shiver up your spine, Hank pulled out from you slowly, only a couple inches, before pressing back inside. With each movement of his hips, he increased the amount he withdrew, getting closer and closer to a legitimate thrust.
“Yes...that’s it, big guy,” You sighed, his next thrust eliciting a noise of surprise from you due its sudden harshness. He must like that nickname. “Just- just like that. That feels really good.”
Hank’s large hand rubbed affectionately at your side, and it occurred to you he must be quite fond of praise. You wondered for a split second if he was like that around others, or if your crooning words of approval touched his heart in a way that no others were allowed to do. A rough snap of his hips jolted you out of your heated thoughts. You felt his thick cock slip out of you completely, before thrusting back into you with a quick, fluid motion.
You buried your face into the sheets as Hank reinforced a steady pace; not too fast, but not too slow. Every thrust of his hips forced moans of pleasure from your plush lips. You excitedly met his movements halfway, shoving your rear back to further impale yourself on his dick. Hank’s chest rumbled with a growl, and he ground his hips against you at the end of his next thrust; moving slowly and hitting deep. God, it felt like he was practically hitting your stomach with each and every thrust; how could he possibly be getting this deep?! The fact that you were even able to fit all of him inside your tiny body, first try, was a complete and utter miracle.
“F-faster, Hank.” You moaned, a small dribble of drool leaking from your mouth onto the bed sheets.
Hank wasted no time in picking up the pace, the rough sound of skin hitting skin filling your heated bedroom. Streams of incoherent praise fell from your lips as he fucked you hard, easily drowned out by the lewd noises your conjoined bodies were making. It didn't really matter if he heard you or not - it's not like any words you spoke were going to end up making much sense anyways. Your brain was slowly melting from the pleasure. You felt Hank's tongue loll out onto your shoulder, saliva mixing with your sweat and dripping down your body. He laved against your shoulder blade, similarly to when you began, coating it in copious amounts of drool. Despite feeling so overwhelmed in all of your senses, that little act of encouragement helped keep you tethered during your ever growing high. If you had a brain cell to spare, you would've questioned why he retracted his tongue so soon.
Nothing could've prepared your poor, overstimulated body for the feeling of Hank's razor sharp teeth sinking into your delicate flesh. You screamed in pain (or perhaps, a hint of pleasure?) As he bit down hard into your shoulder, feeling the hot droplets of blood cascade down your body, staining your already ruined sheets. Hank groaned loudly when your cunt involuntarily squeezed around him, continuing to rapidly thrust into your quivering body. Each feverish movement from him made his teeth embed deeper into your shoulder, and you felt intense heat rushing to both the gaping wound and your dripping pussy.
Finally releasing your poor shoulder from his bloodied maw, Hank leaned back and shoved your face into the bloodstained sheets, muffling your animalistic wails and causing you to arch your back further into his unforgiving thrusts. You keened as your body couldn't decide what feeling to prioritize. Pleasure? Pain? You supposed the stinging sensation of fresh air meeting your wound is not what most would consider a good time - but this encounter with Hank was proof enough that you were unlike most humans. Feeling lightheaded, you hissed when you felt Hank's tongue hit the puncture marks, the wet muscle lapping excitedly at the oozing claret on your shoulder. Each broad stroke of his tongue smeared the thick concoction of saliva and blood over your sweaty body. Drool dripped onto your flushed face and you smelled the oppressive scent of iron on Hank's breath.
Panting heavily, Hank slowed his frantic thrusting and eventually held motionless within you. You felt his hand unhook from its tightened grip around your waist, skimming lightly over your clammy skin before resting it parallel to his monstrous one. In this moment of sudden stillness, the fog that had settled over your brain lifted, and you became hyper aware of every sensation around you. The warmth from Hank's body pressed against you. The feeling of not only your heartbeat pounding against your ribs, but his as well. The sound of his labored breathing. The way that breath hit your shaky, goosebump-ridden body, sending a chilled shiver down your spine despite the heat. How tightly clenched your fists were in the blankets. In the haze of pleasure, you had managed to get used to the fact that he hit so deep inside you, but now you felt overly attentive of how snug this feeling was. You could feel every twitch, every pulse; the two of you were so utterly and completely connected. There was no possible way he could be any deeper without simply melding together with you.
“Ha...Hank,” You breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, “Why’d...you stop? Somethin’ wrong?”
You gasped when he suddenly pulled out of you, immediately mourning the feeling of fullness you had just moments before. The bed creaked as Hank rested one knee on the edge of it, leering at your small frame from above. One large hand sought purchase on your hip, rubbing fondly for a couple beats, before moving to the middle of your chest and pushing up, easing you onto your knees and pressing your back against him. You felt an arm hook under the backs of your knees, suddenly lifting you upwards off of the bed as if you weighed no more than a feather. Standing up, he readjusted his hands to let your legs spread comfortably with proper support, one hooked over each arm, your back pressed cozily against his firm abdomen. His sharp fingertips curled tightly into your legs, threatening to bruise, if not break the skin there just like he had done with his teeth on your shoulder.
Not getting a single chance to breathe, you could feel the thick tip of his cock press into you again, making you scramble to try and grab somewhere on his upper body to support yourself. Though if you were being honest, it's not like you really needed it. Hank’s strength was more than enough to support your tiny body, with how easy it was for him to carry and maneuver you. One of your hands reached upwards to rest at the nape of his neck, the other patting around on the monstrous side of his shoulders for a large spike to desperately grasp onto. The spike you grabbed was smooth under your palm surprisingly, feeling similar to a cleaned bone. As he slowly sunk himself back into you, all you could think about was how wrong you were earlier. He very much could get deeper. And holy fuck, did it feel spectacular. When he was finally hilted again, his dick was pressed ever so snugly against your cervix.
A shiver of pleasure ran down your spine at Hank's first shallow thrust in this new position. Somehow this felt even more overwhelming than the position before, and he’d barely even started yet! You were complete putty in his hands as he began to move in and out of you, his pure strength being put on display as he bounced you up and down on his hard cock. You weren't putting in any work while in this position - you couldn't put in any work; the only thing you could do was allow yourself to be fucked by this monstrous man. Each thrust hit your cervix just so, sending jolts of pleasure through your whole body. Hank's pace was fast and unforgiving, making your toes curl as that all-too-familiar fog settled over your brain once more.
"Hank! Oh my God! You…" You could hardly form words at this point, eyes rolling back while your fingernails dug sharply into his neck, "So good! You're so good!"
You heard a pleasured growl from above, Hank's fingers matching your own by digging harshly into your thighs. Your poor flesh put up a good fight up until this point, finally giving way to his dangerously sharp claws. You cried out again at the stinging sensation, clenching tightly around him once more. The hot feeling of blood dripping down your thighs made your worn-out body tremble. You were definitely going to have more than a few marks to keep as trophies from this experience. Fuck, would they even heal over completely? The very thought of having a permanent scar from Hank excited you more than anything. A constant reminder etched into your body of the hedonism experienced tonight - the idea itself was nearly enough to make you orgasm again.
You could feel Hank's form stutter a bit against your back, his thrusts growing sloppy as he fucked up into you. He must be getting close - you drooled at the thought, tongue lolling out as he rammed his cock faster and deeper into your stretched pussy.
"Good…" Hank's rough, gravelly voice cut through your blissed out brain.
"Yes! So good," You moaned loudly, "So good, for me…"
Moving one hand down, you began to frantically rub at your sore clitoris, sparks of pleasure shooting through your frazzled body as you easily brought yourself to climax once more. Your walls tightened harshly around Hank's dick, and you felt his grip on you harden. With a loud, animalistic roar, he shoved himself as far up into you as he could, releasing a massive load of cum into your pussy. Your mouth opened in a silent cry when he did so, feeling light headed from the sheer wave of pleasure that washed over you. Panting heavily, you rested your head against him, body going slack. Even as the aftershocks of your orgasm had finished, you still felt the intense rush of warmth within you. Was he seriously still going? If you had enough of your mind left you'd be properly shocked by how much Hank came, the first oozes of it spilling out from you when he shifted.
Delicately, you let the other hand that was clinging to Hank slip off and move downwards, brushing softly over your sweaty body. It traced your collarbone, over your sensitive breast, down your heaving ribcage, and finally rested on your abdomen. You winced upon finding it to be slightly distended. Jesus, this was about to get messy. Well, messier than it already has been, you supposed. But Hank didn't seem keen on pulling out of you right then and there, instead choosing to move you both back down to the bed. You were too weak to protest against the shaky movement, jolts of overstimulation burning through your nerves every time he jostled you.
Keeping you as connected as possible, Hank laid you down on the bed on your stomach. He pressed his weight on top of you again, similarly positioned to when the two of you had started. He was careful not to completely crush you underneath him, and it made you smile; the weight of him draped over you was surprisingly comforting. You’ve missed physical contact so much it nearly made you cry to finally receive it; after so, so long, you’ve finally gotten it. With your back pressed so tightly against him, you felt a slow, rhythmic rumbling that matched his breathing. Was he...purring? That's adorable, you thought to yourself, a bit of pride rising in your chest at the thought of doing so well at this that even an 8 foot tall, violent criminal could be reduced to a content, purring mess in the presence of your tiny, aching body. You briefly pondered if all Grunts show contentment through purring; you sure hoped so. Maybe if other humans knew about that fact they'd find them a lot nicer to be around.
Feeling drowsy, you yawned and shut your eyes, feeling Hank shift a little bit above you. Between your combined body heat, slowed breathing, and his purring, you could feel the lull of sleep approaching fast. Your eyes snapped back open quickly, however, upon the unexpected feeling of Hank finally pulling his softened cock out of you. You let out a loud, pathetic whimper as a deluge of cum exited your body, sliding down your twitching thighs and pooling onto the floor below. You felt Hank's hand run down your back, rubbing harshly at your tensed muscles. His hand stopped and rested on your ass for a minute, before drifting lower onto your slick thighs. Gingerly, he pushed your legs further open, watching with great interest as his seed poured out of you. You shivered under his close examination, feeling his breath hit against your sensitive nether regions. You hoped he didn’t want to go another round, you didn’t think you could handle anything more than this. As if he sensed you apprehension, he gave your thigh one last affectionate rub, and pulled away from you completely.
Too exhausted to move, you continued to lay limp against the bed, legs dangling over the side as more of Hank's semen lazily trickled out of you. Blinking with unfocused eyes, you stared ahead at the dreary, cracked wall of your apartment, listening to the distant sounds of moving fabric and creaky leather, along with the jingle of Hank's many, many belts. After a few moments, you felt his hand rub against you again, gripping your waist firmly and flipping you over onto your back. Leisurely, you glanced up at him, making eye contact with those bright red goggles of his. His normal hand reached up and brushed some of your unkempt, sticky hair away from your eyes.
"Thank you, Hank…" You smiled, breathing out a dreamy sigh.
You watched with fascination as his monstrous hand moved towards you, scooping you up with an unexpected amount of tenderness. He held you with ease, his talons - for once - being cautious not to scrape against your flesh. You shivered at the feeling of the chilled scales that touched your rapidly cooling body. Hank didn't move you too far - only far enough so that your head lay against the soft pillows of your bed. With the chill of your room, you already missed the heat and pressure of his body pressed against yours. You observed in tired amusement as Hank patted around your bed for something to cover you up with - something that wasn't torn to shreds thanks to his lustful excitement.
Content with the fluffy blanket that had escaped his wrath by falling to the floor, he tossed it unceremoniously over your small frame, shielding your body from the dreadfully cool air of your bedroom. Sleep was approaching swiftly once more, and you really couldn't fight it this time. No matter what happened, you were not leaving this bed without a healthy day and a half of uninterrupted slumber. You didn't care what happened outside; if bombs fell or Agents attacked - you were sleeping, and that's that. You could die happy knowing that you not only fucked Hank J. Wimbleton, but you were going to live to tell the tale. You had a feeling if he wanted to kill you, he would've done it by now.
Snuggling the blanket closer to you, your eyes fluttered shut in tired satisfaction. Before sleep blissfully enveloped you, you felt the bed dip down one last time, Hank’s tongue swiping gently across your cheek. You smiled softly, your mind felicitously blank as your body finally shut down for some much needed rest.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
When you opened your eyes again, it didn't surprise you to see that it was pitch black in your room. The day/night cycle in Nevada was completely messed up thanks to that beast of a man that just finished fucking your brains out; leaving behind slightly visible, red-tinted “days” and ominous, pitch-black “nights.” There was very little difference between night and day here in this dusty world you call home, yet there were still subtleties that you've managed to catch on to.
Speaking of Hank, where was he? Lifting a sore, tired arm, you patted around your torn-up bed for any clues, twisting your head side to side as you squinted in the dark for any sign of him. He was nowhere to be seen, or heard, or felt. A pang of sadness swept over your heart at the fact that you were completely alone again. You were left staring up at the dark ceiling of your room in vexing silence, just like every other night before this. You would have suspected that this was all a dream had you not been littered head to toe with aching bruises and marks. You wanted to cry, if you were honest; and you probably would’ve if you were not so tired. You don't think you can take any more of this crippling loneliness, especially after such a passionate experience.
Letting out a deep, weary sigh, you pushed yourself upwards, bruised body immediately protesting this decision. You felt your shoulder initially stick to the sheets from the blood encrusted there, a vague burning sensation rippling through your muscles from the sudden movement. You winced at the disgusting feeling of various dried fluids that covered your body, especially the goopy semen that crusted in your pubic hair and thighs, another glob lazily leaking from your aching vagina as you shifted.
Pushing your lethargic body up and twisting so that your legs hung over the bed, you cringed upon stepping in the cold, sticky puddle of cum that made contact with your foot. Tiredly patting around for clothing, you wiped your foot off on the softest (and closest) material that you could find. You were already getting nightmares at the idea of all the cleaning you were going to have to do come morning.
Heaving yourself off of the bed, your shaky legs gave out underneath you almost straight away. You yelped as your knees and shins hit the hard, wooden floor. Since you were down there anyways, you blindly patted around for your pants, or underwear at the very least, but came up short on both. Grumbling, you gave up on the idea of being clothed, as it would take far too much effort to maneuver your sore limbs back into your old clothing anyways. Shuffling over to your bedside table, you rummaged around in the drawer for your trusty flashlight.
Clicking the flashlight on, you gave it a couple of harsh smacks as it flickered on you, satisfied once the steady stream of light cut through the inky darkness of your apartment. You lumbered into your living area, naked as the day you were born, and contemplated your next move. You should probably clean that bite wound from Hank - Lord knows your medicine supplies couldn’t handle an infection right now. You also desperately needed to bathe; besides the sheer discomfort of being covered in dried blood, saliva, sweat, and semen, it surely couldn’t be good for your health to just return to bed and deal with it in the morning (as delightful of a choice as that sounded to your tired mind and body). But that meant you had two options - spend hours waiting for an appropriate amount of water to heat up on the stove for a bath or somehow mosey your exhausted body down three flights of stairs and back to turn on the generator that sat on the ground floor.
Rubbing your eyes, you blinked when you saw a glint of something shiny sitting on your small kitchen table. Curious, you paced over there to get a better look at it. It appeared to be a glass jar, the surface reflecting light back at you as you pointed your flashlight directly at it. Leaning in to get a closer look, you could smell a strong antiseptic scent emitting from the container. A chill set into your bones when you finally spotted the misshapen, clumped-together eyeballs that were floating within the jar. Preserved in some form of greenish-yellow liquid, the irises of the eyes were a range of colors, tinted lightly by the formaldehyde preserving them - leading you to believe they were a mix of both human and grunt origin. Although different colors, there was one thing they all had in common - the cloudy cover of death that washed over their soulless pupils.
Your stomach twisted in knots as you continued to stare at the jar. Was this a gift? A threat? Did Hank somehow have this on his person when he first arrived or did he come back to leave it behind? How in the hell did he even get this into your apartment in the duration of time you’ve been asleep? How long have you been asleep? Your questions remained unanswered, however, the only response to them being the eerie silence you’ve grown so used to in the years that you’ve lived here. You suddenly noticed a small slip of paper to the side of the jar, alongside a broken pen sitting in a dark puddle of ink that stained the corner of the note.
Pointing your flashlight towards the ripped out page, your eyes scanned the hastily written chicken scratch. The note was in uneven, bold caps, smudges of ink smearing some of the letters. Despite this, it was easy enough to read:
“THANKS.
-H”