Work Text:
Jill Tuck locked the rear door after her late shift at the clinic; feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders from another long day of prescribing medication and hearing far too many broken tales that never seemed to completely mend. The cold winter air stung her cheeks. Pulling her coat closer around herself, she made her way over to her car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she exhaled a heavy sigh that fogged the windshield glass, before reaching for the ignition.
Suddenly, a gloved hand settled over her mouth from the back seat.
Jill’s pulse spiked as her muffled sounds died against the leather palm. She twisted around. Her breath catching at the grotesque pig mask staring back at her. Long, black, messy hair, stitched snout, and empty eyeholes that somehow still carried the weight of a gaze she would know anywhere.
Then, carefully, he released her mouth. The figure leaned forward. Leather creaked. Then, slowly and deliberately, he peeled the mask away.
John Kramer’s face emerged beneath the light; lined with the years and the losses. His eyes burning with that same unrelenting intensity that had once drove her wild. His hair was shorter now, silver threading through the dark. A faint scar pulled at the corner of his mouth.
For a long second, neither of them spoke.
John then cupped the back of her neck, thumb brushing the soft skin just beneath her ear, and pulled her toward him. Their mouths met; hungry, desperate, years of grief and silence pouring out in the crush of lips and shared breath. Jill made a small, broken sound against him and climbed halfway over the car’s cup holders. Knees digging into the seat. Hands fisting in his dark coat. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging just hard enough to tilt her head as he deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against hers with a familiarity that made her chest ache.
They kissed like people drowning; clinging and devouring. The windows fogged. Her coat slipped off one shoulder. His gloved hand traced the line of her jaw, down her throat. Tasting over the frantic beat of her pulse, as if counting the seconds they had last done something like this.
When they finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together; their breathing ragged in the confined space, John reached into his coat. Metal and glass caught the light.
A syringe.
He held it between them, the needle capped. His thumb hovering near the plunger. Kramer’s voice was low, rough; the same calm tone that had once told her ‘I love you’ and later screamed at her for not believing in his methods.
“I won’t force you to do this, Jill. I never would. You say ‘no’, and I disappear. But if you want this… if you need it… me… you have to say so now. Out loud.”
Jill stared at the syringe, then back at him. Her eyes were wet, shadowed with exhaustion. The clinic, her now lonely house, the ghost of their son, the endless loop of what they had lost; constantly pressed down on her until she felt paper-thin.
“No nodding. I need to hear you say ‘yes’.”
She reached out, fingers trembling, and closed her hand around his wrist, guiding the syringe closer.
“Yes…” She whispered, voice cracking. Then stronger, urgent: “Yes, John. Please. I need it. I need you to make it stop… just… just for a little while. I don’t care how. I don’t care what you do to me. Just… make me forget. Please, for God’s sake, make me feel something that isn’t this.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t bother wiping it away. “I trust you. I’ve always trusted you. Please.”
John’s expression softened by the smallest degree. He brushed the tear away with his thumb. Then, uncapped the needle with his teeth.
“Close your eyes, my love.”
Jill did. She leaned back into the seat, head tilting toward him, exposing the line of her neck. Her hand stayed wrapped around his wrist, not restraining; just holding on.
The prick was quick, almost gentle. Coolness spread through her veins like a slow tide. She sighed, already drifting, the sharp edges of her pain blurring at the corners.
John caught her as she slumped, easing her fully into the passenger seat with careful hands and bucking her in. He brushed a single strand of hair from her face, lingered a moment to press one last kiss to her forehead, slipped his mask back on, then started the car.
The engine purred to life. Snow began to fall again, soft and silent, covering the world outside, as he drove them both into the night.
***********************************
Jill’s eyes snapped open.
The ropes bit deep into her wrists and ankles, holding her suspended in the complex harness. Her back arched sharply, thighs spread wide and helpless. Her heavy breasts dangled beneath her. Nipples trapped in biting metal clamps, thin chains swaying with every shallow breath. A thick vibrator rested motionless against her swollen clit. Lit candles flickered on the floor below, flames licking dangerously close to her exposed skin. The cold metal tip of the syringe device waited just inside her entrance.
A small tape recorder sat lodged between her teeth. Heart hammering, Jill bit down to play it.
***********************************
3 weeks earlier, John sat alone in the dim glow of his workshop, his face glowing from the cold light of multiple monitors. One screen showed Jill’s private medical portal. Another held his meticulously updated calendar; red dots, temperature logs, hormonal markers he had tracked for years. His aged fingers turned the page in the logbook and added fresh data from the hidden tracker.
Even after the divorce, even after everything; he had kept watching her. Preparing for this moment.
She was about to ovulate.
‘Perfect.’
*****************************
1 week earlier, at the local men’s fertility clinic, John sat motionless on the exam table as the doctor returned with the results.
“Mr. Kramer, given your condition, these numbers are remarkable!” The young male doctor cheered. “Your sperm count remains strong, and their motility is excellent. You remain fully capable of fathering a child if you choose!”
A small smile formed on John’s lips. He gave a single nod. “Thank you.”
***********************************
The tape recorder clicked and whirred to life.
John’s voice filled the room; low and raspy.
“Hello, Jill.”
The blonde’s stomach tightened.
“I want to play a game.”
She shuttered.
“Ever since our divorce, you have carried on living a life without true appreciation for the gift your body still possesses.”
Jill’s breath hitched.
“I’ve never stopped watching over you. I do not take the words, ‘until death do us part’ lightly, Jill. That vow remains in my heart even after you’ve left my side.”
Something about that statement made her heart flutter just a bit.
“This cancer is consuming me. Painfully and inevitably.” The recording continued. “But before my body fails me completely, I have made the deliberate choice to create new life with you. To restore what was taken from us all those years ago.”
Her eyes widened and she hummed a bit in… fear? Excitement?
“This game has been meticulously designed based on the dark fantasies you once confessed to me in the nightly hours when you still trusted me. Your need to be ‘broken down’. To surrender to a man until nothing remains in you but raw sensation.” His voice hissed low in the recording.
**********************************
In 1994, rain lashed against the windows of the couple’s bedroom. The only light was a single lamp that casted a shadow across the wall. John had Jill pinned beneath him, his hips moving with relentless force. Sweat drenched their skin. He was stronger then, healthier. Jill was 5 months pregnant. They had agreed to have ‘softer’ sex while she was carrying Gideon, but ended up getting carried away. Again. His hand wrapped firmly around her throat as he thrusted deep inside her.
Jill’s eyes were wide, pupils blown with lust and desire. Her nails raked down his back, leaving pink trails as she gasped for the air he only sometimes allowed.
“Harder.” She begged, her voice hoarse and trembling. “John, please. Break me.” She gasped.
His grip tightened, thumb pressing against her racing pulse. Her walls clenched greedily around his thick cock as he drove into her harder, hips snapping with bruising intensity. The bedframe slammed against the wall in rhythm with every punishing thrust. Jill’s back arched off the mattress, her heavy breasts bouncing wildly.
“Yes, YES!” She cried from the overwhelming edge that kept her balanced. “I want to feel nothing but you, John Kramer! Ruin me! Own me!”
John’s eyes darkened with raw hunger. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear as his fingers flexed tighter around her throat.
“Say it.” The older man growled, voice rough with arousal. He slammed into her deeper, grinding against that perfect G-Spot until her thighs shook violently. “Say it again.”
“Break me, John, BREAK ME!” Her words dissolved into a choked moan as he squeezed harder, cutting off her air just enough to let her focus on the brutal stretch of his cock and the burning pleasure flooding her veins instead of the delicious lack of oxygen.
She came hard, body seizing beneath him, walls pulsing and fluttering around his length. Only then did John loosen his grip. He buried himself to the hilt and followed her over the edge with a deep, guttural groan; flooding her with pulse after pulse of heat.
They collapsed together, gasping. His hand slid from her throat to cradle her jaw tenderly as she trembled by his side, aftershocks still rippling through her pregnant body.
John slid down further to place a gentle kiss on her stomach.
**********************************
Jill’s thighs tensed, heat flooding her core. Even today, John’s voice on the tape stirred the same dark need he had once fed her so expertly.
“Month after month, I’ve continued to track your cycles without fail. Despite my illness, my seed remains viable. We are both fertile. Ready.”
The red timer on the wall blinked to life and began counting down.
“And now… the game begins. You have 60 seconds to free yourself from this contraption. Succeed, and you walk away free. Fail… and the syringe will deliver my seed deep inside you; leaving you with our child. Make your choice.”
The recording clicked off.
In the monitoring room, John kept his gaze on the live feed. His pulse quickened as Jill began to thrash against the ropes. He watched the heavy sway of her breasts, the way the clamps bit into her nipples and lightly electrocuted her with every desperate yank. His cock stirred slowly in his pants.
Jill twisted violently, muscles straining. The nipple clamps shocked her further, stronger. Candle flames flared hot against her inner thighs. Sweat beaded across her flushed skin. Her fingers clawed uselessly at the knots.
Halfway through, she spat the tape recorder out. It clattered to the floor.
“John… it’s impossible for me to escape.” She said, glaring up at the camera across from her.
John’s eyes darkened with satisfaction. His voice came through the speakers, low and intimate.
“I know.”
5 seconds later, the vibrator between her legs roared to life. Jill cried out, hips jerking hard. John leaned closer to the monitor, breathing deeper as he watched every detail.
She laughed; low, breathless, edged with dark delight; then changed tactics. Her gaze locked onto the camera. Eyes gleaming with wicked heat, she rocked her hips, grinding shamelessly down onto the thick syringe device in slow, filthy circles.
John’s cock throbbed fully hard. He pressed the intercom button. “Giving up so soon, Jill?”
She moaned in answer, rolling her hips in obscene waves, never breaking eye contact with John through the camera. Sweat glistened on her skin. Her thighs shook as she bit her lip.
John’s free hand tightened on the armrest. “That’s it, Jill…” He hissed into the microphone.
The timer hit zero.
The syringe triggered. Jill cried out as warm, thick spurts flooded deep inside her. Her walls clenched greedily as the orgasm tore through her in powerful waves.
John exhaled slowly, eyes gleaming. “Beautiful...” He whispered to himself.
*********************************
Minutes later, the heavy door opened.
John stepped inside, tall and gaunt in his dark red cloak. He watched her suspended and glistening for a long moment before powering everything down. The vibrator withdrew with a wet sound that pulled a whimper from her.
“Hello, Jill.”
He crossed to her slowly. Gentle fingers brushed damp hair from her forehead. Then they kissed deeply, tongues sliding against each other with needy hunger. Pulling back, he picked up a candle and teased the flame beneath her clamped nipples until she arched and cried out. He removed the syringe from her entrance, freed himself from his pants with shaky hands, and slid into her in one, smooth motion.
Jill moaned as he filled her completely. John set a deep, relentless rhythm, thrusting in and out. The ropes creaked. Her body rocked helplessly in the harness, breasts bouncing, clamps tugging sharply with every thrust. Candle heat licking at her thighs. Every powerful stroke dragged broken sounds from her throat.
He fucked her harder, deeper; hands gripping her hips as if knowing this might be the last time he gets to do it. Jill’s head fell back as much as it could in its constraints. Another orgasm built fast inside her. Her walls fluttered and clenched tight around his thick cock. When it crashed over her, her entire body seized; thighs shaking violently as she came hard around him.
John’s hips stuttered. He buried himself into her cunt and came with a deep, savage growl of her name. “Jill…”
His cock pulsed hard inside her, flooding her again in thick, hot waves as he held her tight.
***********************************
After untying her, he didn’t say anything. He simply slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her against his chest. She was lighter than he remembered, but he carried her anyway; her head resting on his shoulder as he walked them through the dim corridors to his small sleeping quarters.
The older man laid her down gently on the bed, then stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed in beside her. The sheets were cool against their overheated skin. Jill immediately curled into his side, draping one leg over his and resting her hand on his chest, just like old times.
The former spouses lay there in silence for a while, hearts still slowing.
“I still love you.” Jill finally whispered, voice raw. “Even after everything. I hate it, but I do.”
Kramer stroked her spine with slow, gentle circles. “I never stopped loving you, Jill. Not for one day.”
The younger woman rested her head on his chest. Only their breathing filled the quiet.
Suddenly, her voice came out hoarse and cracked.
“John… God, John. Stop this. All of it.” Her fingers tightened on his bare chest. “Come back with me. Help me at the clinic. We could save people the right way; together. Like we used to. Before… before everything. We could have that life again. Please.”
John looked down at her, his expression softening with something like regret, but his resolve never wavered. He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, tracing the flush that still lingered there.
“I can’t.” He murmured. His voice was calm, almost tender, but there was steel beneath it. “This work isn’t something I can simply ‘stop’. People need to be tested. They need to appreciate their lives. If I walked away now, it would mean accepting the waste I see every day. The entitlement. The squandered potential.”
She shook her head, eyes glistening. “It’s not right, John. You’re playing God.”
“I’m giving them a chance.” He corrected gently. “The same chance I wish someone had given me before the cancer. Before we lost Gideon.”
Jill’s voice trembled at the name. “And what about our baby?” She pressed further. “How are they supposed to grow up knowing their father is the Jigsaw Killer?”
John’s expression dropped. He shoved her off him, eyes flashing. “I AM NOT A KILLER!!!” The words tore out raw.
“I am HELPING people; more than you could EVER fucking dream of doing at that goddamn clinic! What I do WORKS, Jill! I am NOT going to stop until people are truly rehabilitated! If it were up to me, the ENTIRE PLANET would be playing my games! AND I WON’T STOP UNTIL THEY ARE!!!”
Jill stared at him, wide-eyed with fear.
The anger drained from him almost instantly at her expression. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She stayed tense, then carefully let him pull her back under the covers.
“Go to bed, Jill.” He exhaled sharply, his hands covering his face. He hated shouting at her.
They laid side by side in heavy silence. Then Jill’s hand crept across the sheets. John hesitated… before gently interlacing their fingers, holding on tight.