#Outlast richard trager | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucycore · 2 months ago

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Outlast imagine

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊ ˚ ☁️🤎☁️ ₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚₊

Alright..Since Tumblr and actually the whole internet is lacking Outlast content, I'm here to deliver as I somehow always end up in small fandoms.

Summary: Very simple: Their favorite sex positions & why I think that.

Includes: Miles Upshur, Waylon Park, Eddie Gluskin & Jeremy Blaire, Richard Trager(If u want more characters in the future then just tell me)

⚠️ Smut warninggg

🤎Btw. I'm gonna put a link here of animated images in case u wanna check out the positions for yourself if u don't know what they look like. Link

˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🤎༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🤎༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🤎༘⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🤎⋆˚˖𓍢ִ໋☁️✧˚.🤎༘

Miles: Since he's my babe I'm talking from personal experience that he likes Missionary the most. He just loves to look into your eyes while seeing your face as he nails u into the mattress and also how your boobs bounce (if you're a girl), he'd just stare at them and want to see your beautiful face of which he never could get enough. Another one (that I know of cuz I experienced it with him-..Ok enough sorry lol lol) would be the Boat sex position. I know I've talked of how he wants to see your face while fucking you but sometimes he feels a little rough or you guys had a fight and he couldn't stand seeing your face due to how angry he was but needed to let out his frustration on your holes. I think it screams Miles.

Waylon: Aw he's such a sweet guy and so gentle...I mean yeah he could go rough if you'd insist but he'd ask u a 100 times if you're sure about it and idk about you but it would frustrate me for sure. So I think he'd like the Chair position just bc he can be so close to you and have your body and the warmth on his. The second one I thought of would be Deep stick position which screams deep fucking penetration. It doesn't look too rough or crazy just your legs on his shoulders and he'd be keeling down while fucking you. Waylon is a basic guy, I'm sorry hahah!

Eddie: Well..He's a fucking big guy, no matter how tall you are, he's taller and bigger and thicker and ughhh yk so two came into my mind: Catapult position and Cradle position..Here's why: Catapult (I know goofy ass name) bc it would be easy to throw you on his table with that saw attached and just pull your legs on his shoulders so he could plant his seed as deep as he could reach ;) and also cuz it's easier for him that way even when you're tiny compared to him..He can support his weight with his arms on the table while he has to kinda squat his legs to your entrance level which is challenging depending on how short you are. The second one would be Cradle position. You weight nothing to him so it would also be comfortable for him to sit you down on him and use you like a fucking sex doll. He'd be just sitting and doesn't have to do god knows what to be able to reach your hole.

Jeremy: Okay I have a perfect one in mind which just screams Jeremy blaire and it's the Capricorn position (my zodiac sign btw....). So yes bc we all know him, he'd be lazy and just egoistic in the way sex works to him..Like I'm sorry people but I think he'd use you to ride him cuz he's selfish and even his hands behind his head would be accurate. I mean to be fair you could set your own pace and pleasure yourself on his dick so that's a plus, right? Another position I thought of and I swear just bc of the name...The CEO position. I saw it and I was like yes. That's Jeremy. Don't concentrate on the position too much, just on the name lol lol.

Richard: I actually had a harder time to decide which positions but I think I got them now. The pretzel dip, he is a chill guy so he'd want you to chill and as you can see in this position your arm is supporting your head while you just lay there and he works his ass off to satisfy you..I mean what more do you want, right? But I also think this position is a rather uncomplicated one for him so he doesn't have to put much effort. The second one would be the winged eros position..Again he is sitting in a comfortable position and now you have to work your ass off to make yourself and him cum bc I don't think he will move his hips when he's already in such a comfy (for him) position lol.

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|| Alright that's it..If u wanna have more characters let me know..I momentarily can take requests for Outlast 1 & Outlast whistleblower as I only played those two. ||

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strawberrybunnystuff · 2 months ago

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𝐃𝐨𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐞 +18

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙍𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮.

Twt: suggestive content; female reader; +18

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

A searing pain shoots through your head the moment your eyes begin to open. The discomfort is so intense that you close them again, letting out a low groan, feeling your pulse throb inside your skull. The world around you seems to spin for a moment, as if your mind is still trapped between unconsciousness and reality.

Taking a deep breath, you try to move, only to be interrupted by a shrill metallic sound. The noise echoes through the cold room, and your heart races. With effort, you lift your head, blinking repeatedly to adjust to the pale, artificial light that illuminates the room. Your eyes widen when you realize the reason for the noise: your wrists are firmly held by steel handcuffs, attached to the rigid frame of a stretcher.

The touch of the cold metal against your skin contrasts with the feverish heat spreading through your body. Your chest rises and falls in a shaky breath as the reality of the situation imposes itself brutally. The smell in the air is a sterile, metallic mix, with a faint hint of something chemical that makes your stomach churn.

Every detail of the room begins to become clearer—white, lifeless walls, surgical instruments neatly lined up on a nearby tray, and the oppressive presence of something or someone that hasn’t revealed itself yet, but that you can feel watching.

Before you could even formulate a question or even process what was happening, a movement in the darkness of the room made your body freeze. Your breath caught in your throat as a silhouette began to stand out in the shadows, slow, calculated footsteps echoing across the cold floor.

When he finally revealed himself in the pale, flickering light, your stomach churned. This wasn’t just another one of the deformed, insane patients in that hellhole where you were trapped. No… this one was different.

Your heart beats wildly, and like a flash of lightning, fragmented memories invaded your mind in a whirlwind of fear and adrenaline.

You remembered—the hallways of the asylum, the peeling and bloody walls, the frantic sound of your own footsteps echoing in the void as you ran for your life. They were after you. Two inmates, their faces twisted in sick expressions of sadistic pleasure, their grotesque voices laughing among themselves as they joked about how best to tear you apart.

But then… they stopped.

You remember the exact moment your pursuers suddenly stopped their chase, their eyes filled with an almost reverent awe. One of them muttered something—“The doctor will take care of her.”

And now, staring at the figure before you, the truth hits you like a blow to the chest.

He is that doctor.

Your body trembles, and the wave of terror that runs down your spine almost suffocates you. The air feels thin, and even though your mind screams for you to react, your muscles don’t obey. But true despair sets in when your eyes finally drop to your hands.

A pair of long, sharp surgical scissors gleam under the fluorescent light.

The cold metal reflects your own face, contorted in terror.

You try to swallow hard, but your throat is too dry. Cold sweat trickles down your skin as the “doctor” tilts his head slightly to the side, as if he’s analyzing every detail of you, savoring the moment.

Fear grips your chest like an invisible fist.

You know there’s no escape.

You try to wiggle, pulling your arms hard in the desperate hope of finding some slack in the restraints. The cold metal of the handcuffs bites into your skin, leaving red marks as you writhe, your heart hammering in your chest. You need to get out. You need to run.

But all you get in return is the metallic sound of chains rattling—and a low chuckle.

The “doctor” watches your struggles with obvious amusement, his eyes shining with a mix of clinical interest and pure sadism. He tilts his head slightly to the side, as if he’s analyzing a failed experiment.

Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he shakes his head and says, in that mocking drawl:

"Ahh, sweetie... I love it when you try to struggle like that. I always think that maybe—just maybe—one of you will come up with something clever. But, tsk, tsk... Look at you! Like a little fish out of water. Struggling, despairing... pathetic. And so adorable."

He lets out a nasal chuckle, his teeth bared in a crooked smile, as he twirls the enormous scissors in his fingers, the sound of the metal clinking in the air.

"But please keep going! Don't stop on my account. I love watching you cling to that little thing called hope. It just makes everything so much more fun."

Your eyes begin to fill with tears, your chest burning with fear and frustration. But you won’t cry.

Not in front of him.

You know that if you give in, if you let him see your desperation, you’ll only be feeding his sick ego. You’ll only be giving him exactly what he wants.

And then, instead of fear, another emotion begins to boil inside you.

Rage.

Your teeth clench, your breath coming in short gasps, and before you know it, the words escape your lips in a furious growl:

“You sick son of a bitch!”

The insult echoes through the cold room, but instead of anger, all you get in return is a low, satisfied chuckle.

Richard Trager seems delighted by your reaction. He takes a few steps forward, the flickering light casting shadows over his bony face and that crooked, enthusiastic smile.

With his free hand, he slides his wrinkled fingers along your arm, a touch that should be gentle but is disturbing. Your skin crawls in instant revulsion. He takes his time, his fingertips tracing lazy circles, before leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping to a wicked, slurred whisper:

"Ahh… What a dirty mouth you have, sweetie… I love a patient with fire in her blood. It makes everything so much more… intimate."

He lets out a nasal chuckle, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slowly descend, almost exploratory.

"And you know what's most interesting? That little body of yours is shaking... is it fear or is it something else? Hm? Because honestly, I'd love to find out."

He licks his lips lightly, as if savoring his own imagination, and gives your skin a slight squeeze before letting go, his eyes shining with sick excitement.

"But don't worry, sweetie... Oh, no. I'm a man of science! And I love a hands-on experiment."

The smile he gives you is too wide, stretched, completely distorted in pure sadistic amusement.

Fear grips your chest like an invisible fist. Your entire body is covered in goosebumps, every nerve on edge, waiting for the worst. What is he going to do to you?

A thousand possibilities run through your mind—all of them sick, all of them terrible.

The tears you were fighting so hard to hold back finally escape, rolling silently down your face. Damn. You didn't want to cry, didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but your body won't listen to you anymore.

Your voice comes out shaky, almost a whisper:

"Sick... you're completely sick..."

You expect him to get angry, to lose his temper and reveal something worse. But instead, Richard just laughs. A low, husky laugh, full of amusement. He's loving this.

He leans over you, his eyes sliding lazily over your face, as if studying every feature, every tiny reaction. His fingers still trace lines on your skin, now with an almost calculated slowness.

Then he murmurs, his voice full of charming and irritating sarcasm:

"Oh, sweetie... You say it like it's a problem. But look at you... So helpless, so vulnerable... and yet, so beautiful like that."

He smirks, his eyes sparkling with a different interest.

"If I'm sick... then tell me... Why haven't you looked away yet?"

The provocation hits home. You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. Your heart beats hard, too fast, and something inside you starts to get confused.

Richard notices. And he loves it.

He leans a little closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

"Ahh... I think maybe... just maybe... you're starting to understand what I mean."

"...This sick guy is flirting with me...?!"

The sentence echoes in your mind, leaving a bitter taste of disbelief. This can only be a very bad joke of fate... But then, why did his words hit you so hard?

You feel your own heart beating fast, confused, irritated—and maybe something else that you refuse to name.

So lost in these thoughts, you almost don't notice the doctor's bold hand sliding down to your overalls. His skillful fingers begin to undo the buttons with disturbing calm, without any rush.

It is the sound of the first button opening that brings you back to reality.

"What are you doing?!"

Your voice comes out almost as a scream, but there is something strange bubbling in your gut—something that makes you even more uneasy.

Richard stops for a second, looking at you with that annoyingly amused smile, as if he were about to tell the joke of the century. Then, with the most fake and carefree tone in the world, he shrugs:

"Hey, sweetie... I need to examine you, right? See if everything is working properly..."

He pulls another button, slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I don't want my favorite patient to have some little... internal problem."

Another button comes undone. His smile only grows when he sees the way you flinch, yet don't look away.

"Relax, I'm a professional, you know? Hippocratic Oath and all that... well, kind of."

His laugh is low and drawn out, and even though you want to yell at him, your body feels stiff, as if you're waiting for what's coming next.

The last button is undone with a soft click.

The fabric of the jumpsuit loosens and slides down your shoulders, revealing a glimpse of your worn bra, the thin, frayed fabric imperfectly covering your breasts.

The doctor's eyes shine with pure interest. And something beneath him—something you'd rather not have noticed—stirs in response.

He lets out a low whistle, as if he's examining a beautiful work of art.

"Well... Now this is an unexpected spectacle."

His gaze slides slowly over your body, indecently, unhurriedly.

"You know, sweetie..." He tilts his head, the tip of his tongue lightly running over the corner of his mouth. "I've had many patients on this gurney... But you? Hmm... You're making me want to do a much more detailed examination."

His fingers brush lightly against your exposed skin, almost playfully, as a crooked smile appears on his lips.

"And that bra? So old..."

He tugs lightly on one of the straps, letting it snap back against your skin with a soft snap.

"You need a new one, huh? Maybe one I can pick out for you... Something I can have fun taking off later."

He chuckles, pleased with your expression—be it shock, irritation, or something else.

"But there's no need to be shy, okay?" He leans closer, his lips almost touching your ear. "I promise I loved the view... And I'm sure there's still so much more for me to love."

Heat washes over your body in an overwhelming way. You don’t want to feel it—you shouldn’t feel it—but something inside you stirs, hot and restless.

Excitement.

The sound of the doctor’s breathing becomes more noticeable as he lowers your bra with a slow tug, as if he’s savoring every second of the revelation.

His eyes burn with indecent interest. He’s loving this.

“Ahh, sweetie…” His voice is a slurred murmur, almost as if he’s tasting your name on his tongue. “You’re one surprise after another.”

His fingers glide over the sensitive skin before cupping one of your breasts, exploring the texture, playing with your body’s reaction. You make a small sound—involuntary, embarrassing—and it only seems to feed his ego.

"Oh? That was... lovely."

The amusement in his voice is unnerving. He tightens his grip, watching your every move intently.

"So responsive... And here I thought you were just trying to tease me."

His lips curve into a satisfied smile as he brings his other hand to your second breast, giving it the same attention, the same lazy tease.

"You know, darling... I've always been a curious man. And now I wonder..."

He leans in, his warm breath brushing your exposed skin.

"If touching you already makes you react like this... What will happen if I go a little further?"

His gaze rises to yours, filled with pure malice, waiting to see if you'll back away or if you'll fall even deeper into his game.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙨....

𝙤𝙧 𝙣𝙤𝙩....

#richard trager x reader #outlast #outlast richard trager #Spotify

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