❦

It wasn't hard to tell the twins apart.

Dex was bulkier than Shane, slightly taller and had that signature scar on his cheek. Shane kept his beard trimmed but never fully shaved, and always had some smarmy look on his face.

It was even easier to tell them apart once they opened their mouths. Dex was polite. Confident, but never in a way that made you feel like he was talking down to you. Shane on the other hand, was direct, saying whatever was on his mind like it was physically painful to keep it in.

You'd been dating Dex for a little while now, yet you barely knew anything about him. You knew he lived with his twin brother, who he constantly badmouthed, to the point you started dreading having to meet him.

That day came sooner than expected. Your apartment flooded after some idiot on the upper floor forgot to stop running their bath. In exchange for cheap rent, your landlord had no sense of urgency, so you knew it would take over a month for the issue to get resolved. Staying at Dex's place was a last resort, really. You'd heard the horror stories of living with Shane, and you'd rather not have your first encounter be sharing a space with him.

"You just gotta shimmy the doorknob a little." Dex announced behind you, balancing three bags in one arm and four on the other. He insisted he could carry all your belongings in one trip, bragging about how all those hours in the gym weren't for nothing.

After a struggle with the door, the smell of Marlboro Reds hits your nose in an instant. You squinted at the almost near copy of your boyfriend lounging on the couch, smoking and drinking a beer at the same time. 

You knew they were twins, but Shane looked older than Dex by a couple years, deep set wrinkles and gray hairs aging him. You only knew about Shane from what Dex told you. He was a wildlife management officer at some national park, but he got fired for serious misconduct and had nowhere to stay, so Dex let him live with him for the time being.

The man who you now knew was Shane grunted, very obviously checking you out before turning his attention back to the TV. "Shut the door, you're letting all the cold air in." 

You looked around the apartment, slightly confused at how messy it was. There were half-empty beer cans and cigarette packs on the coffee table, a rifle and shotgun resting against the living room wall, and a pistol on the dining table.

When Dex came over to yours, he was always tidy, cleaning up after making you dinner and straightening out your furniture every chance he got. You now realise that he was making up for the lack of order at his own place.

"You wanna stop being an asshole and greet our guest?" Dex snatched the remote away from his brother, turning off the sports game and gesturing to you.

Shane flashes a grin, slowly looking you up and down before standing up with a sigh and outstretching a hand."If I knew your girlfriend was this pretty, I woulda asked to meet her sooner."

You fake a smile, taking his hand and introducing yourself. He holds the handshake a little too long, before finally sitting back down and taking the remote from Dex's hand.

You didn't realise the interaction was over, until Dex pulled you towards his room and shut the door behind him.

"I told you he was a handful," his gruff voice murmured, running a hand over his face. "If you don't wanna stay I get it. I can pay for a hotel or something-"

"No, Dex. It's fine, I've had my fair share of… roommates." You smile, holding his hand and massaging it with your fingers. "Besides, he doesn't seem that bad."

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ 

"Hey." Shane's voice sounded from the fridge, and he stuck his head out to stare at Dex.He doesn't even acknowledge your presence. "We're out of mayo, and last I saw, your girl was making a sandwich with some."

"Watch it, princess. That costs more than you get paid a month." He'd say if you tripped over one of his rifles, which he never moved out of the way.

"Shoulda locked the door, then." After you have to scream at him to get out while you're in the middle of taking a shower, taking his sweet time to drink in the view.

So… maybe Shane was a bit of an asshole. You didn't exactly have another option though. Your landlord called, saying it wouldn't be another month until they could fix your apartment. You tried to convince Dex to let you pitch in on rent, or at least grocery bills, but he wouldn't budge. Shane on the other hand, called you a freeloader, despite being out of a job himself.

You were seriously thinking of taking up Dex's offer to stay at a hotel, at least then you'd have some peace and quiet. You're not sure if it was a coincidence or not, but the frequency of fights between him and Shane seemed to grow higher the longer you stayed. Most of them were over stupid things, too.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ 

Today, Shane's behaviour was no different, you might even say it was worse. Dex was out buying groceries, leaving you holed up in Dex's bedroom while Shane took up space in the living room. If Dex was out of the house, you never talked to Shane unless it was absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, you were really thirsty and hadn't planned to stay in the room this long. You could hear Shane shout something at the TV, so you hoped if you went to the kitchen now, he'd be too distracted to bother you.

You creep out of your room, safely making it to the kitchen… until you hear that familiar grating voice.

He whips his head as soon as he hears the sound of the fridge opening, giving you a wink before looking back at the TV. "Get me a beer while you're at it."

You don't. Grabbing the pitcher from the fridge, you purposefully slam the door loudly. You expect him to get over it, but he seems to be in a good mood, so he pauses the TV.

"You deaf or somethin'? I said, get me a beer."

"You have fully functional arms and legs. Get it yourself, princess," you retort. You turn away from him, pouring yourself a glass of water when you hear his footsteps coming up behind you.

Before you can react, a warm presence hits your back, and two hands are caging you against the counter.

"What-"

"Y'know, I used to think Dex liked you because you were a goody little two shoes." you crane your head enough to see a shit-eating grin on his face, that punchable face. "But, the more I get to know you…"

He leans in and settles a hand on your hip, breath ghosting your ear. You're about to elbow him in the stomach, but before it connects, the front door opens.

Shane breaks away from you immediately, like he's had experience being walked in on. You catch a glimpse of him inspecting an empty milk carton.

"Market's busy today," Dex grumbles, giving you a kiss on the temple before shouldering his brother out of the way and setting the groceries on the counter.

"Ha… yeah," you mutter back, still processing what the hell just happened. Shane brushes past you, purposefully not looking your way as he disappears into his room.

"You wanna help me with dinner tonight?" Dex glances at you. You can tell he notices something's off, maybe chalking it up to Shane's usual antics, but he's staring at you now, waiting for a response.

"Oh, yeah. Sure." 

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶ 

The dinner table is silent, besides the occasional scraping of forks and knives. Anyone could walk in and tell this was awkward, that there was something unspoken in the air. 

You couldn't stop thinking about what Shane was about to say before you were interrupted, and part of you wished Dex hadn't walked in. It really didn't feel like the two were twins, even their presence felt completely different, and Shane's almost left you wanting more…

"Goddamn, y'all talk more when you're fucking," Shane grunts, stabbing his fork into the salad in the middle of the table, purposefully ignoring the tongs Dex neatly placed in the bowl.

You cough, staring down at your plate as you get ready to hear the familiar sound of your boyfriend scolding his brother.

"What, are you eavesdropping on us now?" Dex starts, you touch his hand, trying to calm him down but he's already gone off.

"Kinda hard not to when she moans so damn loud." Shane rudely points his fork at you, waving it around before sticking it in his mouth.

"Fucking perv," you mutter, loud enough that he could hear you. You're bracing yourself for a whirlwind of insults but Shane just scoffs, smirking at you from across the table.

"If it bothers you so damn much, maybe you should find a job and move out," Dex snaps, glaring at his twin before stuffing his mouth full of greens.

You feel someone kick at your leg under the table, probably by accident, so you tuck your feet under your chair.

"Oh, but then you'd miss me." Shane smiles, shifting in his seat a little. 

"Wouldn't miss your shit laying around." Dex points at an offending gun on the TV console, his voice raising slightly.

You feel something slide up your leg and almost gasp, trying to pull back from the sudden sensation but a leg hooks around yours and keeps you still. Shane eyes you, a glint in his gaze, before looking back at Dex.

"You two stop having loud ass sex while I'm tryna sleep, then I'll think about cleaning up." You could tell this was the start of another argument, but both of them were still hiding their anger behind a smile, trying to get the upper hand.

You quickly realise the leg belongs to Shane, by the way he's moving in his chair and that fucking smirk on his face when you try to close your legs, nudging them apart with his foot. You can tell he's having a great time toying with you while Dex is too distracted to notice either of you playing footsy.

"If you hadn't gotten fired you wouldn't even be here in the first place." Dex barks. You realise now where these two get their wrinkles from. 

"Not my fault they didn't believe me." Shane's foot is at your knee, slowly pushing your thighs apart.

"You still haven't told me why they got rid of you." 

Before he can get his foot further between your thighs, you quickly stand up.

"I'll just… leave you guys to it," you mumble, taking your plate to the kitchen. You can feel Shane staring into the back of your head. As soon as you leave and go into the bedroom, the shouting match starts.

You decide to catch up on work (and distract yourself from Shane's recent behaviour), opening your laptop and checking your emails. It was easy to drown out the sound of Shane and Dex fighting, mostly because it just sounded like one guy talking to himself like a maniac. But for some reason, today's quarrel was particularly loud.

You hear the sound of the front door slamming and assume it's Shane leaving, he's never been one to close a door properly.

Just as you start typing up your report, your door opens. You know how Dex likes to watch you work, so you don't turn around, and let your silence serve as his answer to come inside.

You feel his hands reach your shoulders, calloused and rough. You figure the two got into it pretty bad, because Dex starts massaging you harder than usual. Dex was always good at massages, using his strength for something other than hard labour, and finding those perfect spots he knew you loved. You guessed he was doing this as a sort of apology for arguing in front of you, knowing how much you hated when he let Shane get to him.

You sigh, closing your eyes and sinking into your chair.

You hear him chuckle before placing a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and then descending to your neck. You might be imagining things, but you felt more stubble than you were used to… maybe Dex forgot to shave this morning? Though, that seems out of character for him.

You feel his hands move down your body, getting bolder and sliding under your shirt and groping at your chest. You gasp, gripping one of his hands as he starts teasing your nipples with his fingers. You feel him smile against your neck, giving one breast a slap. You furrow your brows. Dex must be really frustrated today.

He starts sucking on your skin, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down your neck.Now that you notice it, he smells slightly off.

You open your eyes, relief washing over you for a short lived moment when you see his face. The longer you stare at it though, the clearer it becomes that Shane wasn't the one who slammed the front door when he left.

You yelp, quickly shoving him off you and spinning your chair around. "What the fuck?!"

Your distress is met with laughter, Shane's stupid fucking cackle when you give him the reaction he craves.

"You should see the look on your face right now, doll." He wipes a fake tear, before moving back into your space, that weird smell you now recognise as cigarettes. "But… you seemed like you were enjoying yourself there."

You shove at his shoulder, it barely shakes him, quickly standing up because you'd really rather him not be looming over you right now. "I would've been enjoying myself if you were actually my boyfriend." You glare at him, still having to look up at his stupid face because of how tall he was.

"Surely you noticed it was me, hm? You're a smart cookie." This is the quietest you've ever heard his voice. He's so close, it's almost like he's getting ready to kiss you.

"Get out." You lower your voice to match his, staring him right in the face.

"You're real bad at using your manners," he says your name in a way that gives you goosebumps, slowly dragging his eyes down your body. "C'mon, baby. Say please," he whispers, almost touching your nose with his.

"Please, get the fuck out." You take a shallow breath, trying and failing miserably at hiding how much he's affecting you right now. You're telling yourself he's only getting you this riled up because he looks and sounds like Dex, but a part of you knows that's not really the truth.

He hums after what feels like an hour of him staring at you, giving you a smile before turning and leaving.

You let out a shaky breath as soon as he's out of earshot. What the fuck is his problem? You knew he was the flirty type from the second you met him, and ever since then he's gotten bolder. You just hadn't noticed how much it had escalated until now.

if you catch an attitude with him during arguments (which you two have often), he doesn't shy away from punishing you. he'll bend you over his knee, muttering something about you being a brat and spanking you.

"you think sorry's gonna fix anything?"

if he's in a good mood, he'll teach you how to shoot with his guns. he'll pretend to be impressed even after you miss multiple times. usually it ends with him fucking you against the same tree you were shooting at though.

sex with shane is always rough and mean. even when he's eating you out or you're on top, he has to be in control. he'll pin your thighs to your chest, or grip your hips and fuck up into you. he's big into dirty talk, and encourages you to say filthy things back to him.

"tell me how it feels, baby. how's my cock feel in that tight fuckin' pussy?"

one of the only times he's shown patience with you was when he was training you to take him in your throat. he'd praise you whenever you choked or gagged around him, pulling out and sloppily kissing you.

"you look s'fucking pretty like this, babygirl."

if an argument ever ends with you threatening to break up with him, he'll laugh and tell you to repeat yourself. when you don't, he gets all up in your personal space.

"you think anyone else is gonna take care of you like i do, baby?"

later, he's fucking you into your mattress, shoving your head down into the pillows and thrusting at a mean pace.

"you still wanna leave me? 'cus your pussy's grabbing onto me like she dun'wanna let go."

Shane doesn't confront you when he walks in and sees you flirting with some guy at the bar. He doesn't drag you out of the bar when you lock eyes with him. You know he's watching, and now you're purposefully touching the prick's arm and probably whispering something stupid his ear.

Shane doesn't get jealous. You're just someone he fucks around with, it doesn't mean anything. It shouldn't mean anything. Not while he's burning holes into the back of the asshole you're flirting with's head and clenching his fists.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You find Shane at his campsite the next day, carving a piece of wood with one of his favourite knives. You only know this because you kept complaining how bored you were the whole time he brought you along the first (and last) hunting trip together.

"Watcha doing?" You peer over his shoulder, trying not to stare at how the veins bulge out of his hands while he works with his hands.

"Fuck does it look like 'm doing?" he retorts, chucking a scrap of wood on the ground. You've gotten used to his unpredictable mood, one day he's giving you a cute dress to try on and the next he's ghosting you.

"Can you teach me how to carve wood?" you squat next to him, staring at his face and waiting for him to look at you.

"Ask nicely, then maybe," he grunts, shooting you an annoyed glance before bringing the half-carved piece of wood to his face and inspecting it closely.

"Pretty please, Shane?" you pout, even batting your eyelids.

He scoffs, giving you a once over before leaning back and patting at his thigh. A simple gesture, but you know what it means.

You slither into his lap, back flush against his chest as he wraps his arms around you and starts explaining his process with a fresh piece of wood.

You're not actually listening, nor were you interested in wood carving in the first place. You know Shane likes to hear himself talk, so you take the chance to admire his arm muscles.

"You even listening?" he taps your head with the hand that's holding his knife, blade dangerously close to your skin.

"Yeah…" you lie, blushing and shrinking into his hold.

In one swift move, he flips you on your back, climbing on top of you and tossing the wood and knife aside.

"Little brat."

He starts kissing your neck, teasing the skin with hickeys and bites. His hands are already unbuttoning your shirt, and he pulls back when he doesn't feel a bra.

"You walked around town like this? Fuckin' slut." His tone sounds meaner than usual, if that's even possible for Shane, and he gives your face a little slap.

"S'not like anyone cares," you mumble, looking away in embarrassment as he starts groping your tits.

"You talking back to me, baby?" he grips your chin, forcing you to look at him while his free hand starts undoing your jeans.

You shake your head no, and he lets your face go, satisfied with your answer for now.

He stays silent as he slides your panties down your legs, positioning himself between them after unbuckling his belt. He dips back down to kiss at your neck, moving down until his lips reach your nipples.

One hand is circling your clit, spanking it when you moan too loud.

"Gonna let everyone hear how much of a slut you are? Hm?"

He seems impatient today, shortening the foreplay by half and pulling his pants and boxers down to let his cock out.

He holds his hand up to your mouth, and you spit on it without hesitation. He smiles at that, coating his cock in your saliva and lining it up to your cunt.

He sinks into you without warning, covering your mouth when you gasp from the sudden intrusion. You shut your eyes tight, breathing unsteady and shallow. He stays still inside you for a moment, the lack of foreplay making you a lot tighter than he's used to.

"Fuck," he grunts, bracing himself by digging his fingers into your hip.

Once he's gotten used to the sensation of your pussy around him, he slowly grinds his hips into yours. You crack open your eyes to see him staring down at you, with an expression that seems out of place.

"Who was that guy at the bar?" his voice comes out low, tilting his head at you for your answer.

"Huh? I don't kno-"

He suddenly starts thrusting into you, not giving you a chance to adjust. You press a weak hand to his shoulder, trying to get him to slow down.

"You don't know, huh?" he repeats your words in a mutter, slowing his hips down, giving you a chance to tell the truth this time.

"He was just some... random dude, why do you care?" you glare up at him out of reflex, which was a mistake because he starts thrusting harshly again.

"So why were you flirting with him? You wanted to make me jealous? Wanted him to fuck you like- this?"

"N-no- no, I wasn't-" you're a mess, eyes rolling into the back of your head while you scratch up Shane's back under his shirt.

"Shut up," he grunts against your forehead, caging you in his arms and fucking into you like he's going to breed you. "You happy now? Finally making me jealous?"

You can barely register his words, let alone have the time to react to making the Shane Maguire jealous. You're too busy babbling about how deep his cock is inside of you, a whimpering mess underneath him.

"You're a bad influence, y'know that?" he chuckles, pinning your face down into the leaves as his thrusts get deeper and faster. You know he's about to cum.

"P-please... Shane. Inside. Cum inside," you barely get the words out, but he hears you.

"Gonna breed this pretty pussy. Nobody else s'gonna touch you," he lifts your hips up, angling them so he hits your cervix with his tip. You're not sure if it's the new position, but when he cums, it feels warmer and thicker.

"Fuuck," he groans loudly, fucking the last of his cum into you before rolling over beside you.

There's a moment of silence as you're both trying to catch your breaths, chests heaving as you stare up at the canopy.

"So... I made you jealous?"

"Fuck off."

he'd absolutely talk you through it during sex, telling you what he's doing while he moves you or touches you.

"just gonna lift your hips up, darling."

he's so good at spotting when your mood shifts, stopping and asking if you're okay when you tense up, or continuing the same pace when you're about to cum. and you already know he's a service dom, prioritising your pleasure over his and eating you out until you're begging him to stop.

he'd be the type to tell half truths. you know he works for fisk as a bodyguard, and that he kills people. but he pretends he's ridden with guilt when he has to murder someone, and swears he only kills 'bad men'. if he comes home with visible wounds on his face, he lies and says it's not a big deal, hiding the fact that under his suit it's even worse.

because of his job, his schedule is pretty packed, so he makes use of his free time, arranging dates he knows you'll love and fucking you so hard you'll be sore for days. he makes you breakfast before he leaves, and sends you messages throughout the day.

coming home in 30 mins :)

traffic was terrible this morning. how did you sleep?

saw a stray cat and thought of you.

he'd have your location at all times, knowing there's a high chance you could be compromised because of his job. he'd teach you how to handle a gun, and pay for self defense lessons. when he's off on a mission, he hires someone to keep an eye on you and report back to him.

You nod, moving without hesitation- he quirks a smile at that. As you walk in, you feel a gentle hand at the small of your back, guiding you inside. He closes the door behind you. Then you hear the rustle of him entering the other side of the confessional.

"Tell me what's been bothering you, my child," he speaks through the screen that divides you, his voice muffled.

"I..." you let out a large sigh, mustering up the courage to share your secrets with a handsome stranger.

"I've been having impure thoughts, Father." you whisper, moving your face closer to the screen so he doesn't ask you to repeat yourself. He doesn't respond, quietly telling you to continue.

"I want to be hurt. In the bedroom." Your entire body feels hot, you fidget with the hem of your shirt. "I want someone to degrade me. I know it's wrong, and I don't know how to stop thinking about it, Father."

He hums, the wood creaks as he leans back against the wall.

"There's nothing wrong with you, child. This is actually more common than you think." he chuckles softly at the end of his sentence, you're not sure why.

"Do you have a specific fantasy about being... hurt?" You hear him shifting in his seat again.

"I... yes." You stare down at your hands.

"Tell me."

You look up, staring at his silhouette through the screen. You can't believe you're doing this. Really. Thank God you don't have to see this guy ever again.

It takes you a moment to start speaking, you're not sure where to start.

"Usually I'm in a... submissive position? Like on my knees or something."

He hums, seemingly nodding.

"The person- man- I imagine having sex with, will say mean things."

"Mean things, like what?" his voice comes out low, startling you a bit.

"Like... uhm... you're such a slut, or you're just a hole for me to use." You cough, your cheeks burning almost painfully at this point. You didn't question why he needed to know all these lewd details.

"He'll slap me, or spank me. Shove his... penis inside of me. Like in my mouth or something." You cringe at yourself. You feel like you're doing a one-sided roleplay right now.

He doesn't respond for a moment, his breathing sounds... heavier. You hope he wasn't silent in shock right now.

"Has anyone done this to you before?" his voice is rough, and he takes a deep breath through his nose.

"No... I tried asking one of my ex-boyfriends but he didn't want to," you mumble, digging your nails into your palm.

You hear the shuffle of his body from the other side, and then the hinge of his door. Oh, were you done already?

Before you have time to react and get up, he opens your door. He's staring at you. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are pitch black.

"Sorry, are we finish-"

"Kneel." he commands.

"What?" you almost laugh, was this part of confessing your sins or something? Kneeling down to God and praying away the perversion? He doesn't respond, just keeps staring down at you.

"Um... alright." you move your bag from your lap to the seat, kneeling in the small booth. You stare at his shoes, before tentatively glancing up at him. He smiles down at you, gently patting your head.

"Close your eyes." he mutters, and you do. You feel a rough hand at your cheek, guiding your head forwards. You hear the sound of clothes moving in front of your face, and before you can peek to see what he's doing- something wet kisses your lips.

You yelp, almost falling back on your butt. You shoot your eyes open as something intrudes your momentarily open mouth. Holy fuck.

Your eyes begin to water as you gag around what you now know is his cock. You blink up at him, furrowing your brows. He smirks, pushing your head further down his length.

"Just take it," he grunts, hips thrusting forwards to shove his cock down your throat.

You splutter, pushing him away and holding back vomit.

"W-what the fuck?"

You're immediately met with a slap to the face, then that same rough hand grips a handful of your hair. He crouches down enough that he's face to face with you now.

"Profanity is a sin." he chuckles, letting your hair go with a harsh shove. Your cheek stings, and you instinctively rub your hand on it to soothe the tender skin.

You're about to stand up to leave but he starts waving his thick cock in front of your face again.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

You open your mouth to respond. Which was a mistake.

He takes the opportunity and shoves himself back inside of you.

"Don't worry, I'll erase those dirty thoughts of yours. You won't want this fantasy anymore."

He starts thrusting into your mouth, ignoring how you choke and gag around him. His grip on your head is impossible to get out of, all you can do is stable your hands against his thighs to try to get him to slow down.

"You don't even know if I'm a real priest. You jus' waltzed in here like a dumb fucking slut and believed the first man that talked to ya." He laughs crudely, giving you an extra hard thrust as a punishment for being so naïve.

"Pathetic." he gives your cheek another slap.

The acoustics of the church amplify the obscene noises of you gagging on his dick and his unholy moans. You half wish someone would walk in and stop this, and the other half wishes nobody sees this happening.

You begin dissociating, eyes glazing over as you train yourself not to puke all over yourself. You've never deepthroated someone before, let alone mastered a blowjob. You hope you're doing a better than average job, at least.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" he rudely interrupts you by tapping your forehead. "Don't run away now."

His thrusts become more erratic, angling your head so he can get deeper down your throat and force you to stare up at him.

"That's it." he faux praises, using his thumbs to open your eyes more. "Bet your cunt's sopping wet right now, hm? Bet you loved calling me Father."

You moan around his cock, tears streaming down your face and stinging the skin that he abused.

"You're gonna swallow, alright? Waste even a single drop and I'll strip you naked and leave you outside," he threatens, sloppily fucking your skull. All you can do is attempt a feeble nod, groaning in response.

"Atta girl," he grunts, before letting out a loud moan and shoving his cock all the way down your throat. You choke as his hot cum spurts into your mouth, trying to swallow and gasp for air at the same time.

He lets you go, quickly tucking himself back in his pants and looking around. The combination of the pain of the wooden floors against your knees and the rawness of your throat help you return to your senses. You're at least a little glad his cum didn't taste horrible.

He roughly picks you up, sitting you back down into the booth and straightening out your hair. Like he was making sure if anyone walked in they wouldn't notice he had just ruined you.

"Don't even try tell anyone about this. Nobody's gonna believe a slut over a priest." His harsh words come out in a sickly sweet tone.

He places a kiss against your temple, then turns to leave.

You stare at the floor, frozen in place as you try to process what the Hell just happened.

"You're always free to come back, though." he gives you one last look, smiling devilishly at you.

Maybe you should've just gone to a therapist.

You stay stiff in his arms like that for a few minutes. You can hear how his breath trembles as he rambles about how much you mean to him. But you knew if you took him back this time he wouldn’t be able to keep his promises.

“I can’t.”

The late night calls and desperate texts faded after a couple weeks. At this point, he knew trying to fix what was already done would just make things worse. It didn’t stop him from obsessing over you, wondering where he went wrong and how he could win you back. 

He knew it was wrong, but how else was he supposed to know you were okay? He told himself he was just checking on you, keeping you safe.

Even if that meant spying from his car up to your apartment window, and frequenting the same cafés you both used to share dates at because he knew you’d still go to them and when. 

You never asked for your apartment key back, and of course he held onto it. He restrained himself from breaking in while you were home, though he so desperately wanted to watch you sleep.

Not in a sick, perverted way. No.

Watching you sleep was one of the few things that calmed his mind down. When you were still together, he’d always wait for you to sleep first. But he didn’t want to risk waking you up and ruin his chances.

He’d only come in when he knew you were away, whether that was at work, or the gym, or whatever. He went from snooping around to stealing a few of your things for activities he’d never admit to you.

The only reason he stopped his… surveillance on you was because he went to jail, and it was torture.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Almost a year now, and his face is broadcasted on your TV screen. He’s definitely bulked up from the last time you saw him, his cheek now marked with a gnarly scar. The reason for your breakup wasn’t his… criminal acts – thankfully you found out about those after. Hearing he shot up a bar full of innocents almost felt out of character for him.

You don’t know why, but you note down the date of his sentence hearing. Maybe a part of you still missed him. You didn’t live far from the court they were conducting it at anyway.

On the day of his hearing, hundreds of paparazzi flock outside the court building, whispers of Bullseye’s crimes and how much time he’ll receive flood your ears. You slither past the crowd, easily finding the court room with more paparazzi blocking the entrance.

It doesn’t take long to quietly find a seat in the back, a witness finishing up his statement as you sit down. You quickly push down the thoughts of a blind witness being completely hilarious, and crane your head to catch a glimpse of the back of Dex’s head. His shoulders seem twice as broad, and you really wish you didn’t get flashbacks to scratching those same shoulders while he’s about to be jailed for murder.

The judge speaks, directing the court’s attention to Dex, “...If you would like to respond, I will allow that before sentencing.”

“I have nothing to say, Your Honor,” his gruff voice responds, and it sends chills down your spine. 

As the judge sentences him, he stands with his attorney and guards. It’s almost like he senses your presence because as he walks to the exit he turns and finds your eyes. 

He fucking smiles. 

Dex is shoved away, holding eye contact with you until he disappears behind the door. 

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You feel almost relieved by the idea that he’s serving life in prison. You knew he’d never cause you harm, but if you tried dating again you weren’t sure how safe your suitors would be. It was like the universe was finally letting you move on with your life.

Or at least that’s what you tried to do.

Every other date felt like a really weird job interview, and the ‘good ones’ just wanted a quick fling. You slept around with them anyway, it wasn’t like you to turn down free dick. 

If it took drastic measures to forget a very memorable ex, you’d take your chances. After a few months you had a small roster of hookups you could call when you were feeling lonely.

Or thinking about Dex.

Unfortunately, your attempt at fucking multiple guys at once backfires. You invite one over, trying to push down any upcoming thoughts of your ex but accidentally moan out Dex’s name instead of his. You quickly realise you’re not made for that life, and block the rest of your roster.

So maybe you weren’t completely over him.

You didn’t want to get into why Dex murdering a bunch of people and being a diagnosed psychopath hasn’t completely turned you off. Perhaps talking to a therapist wasn’t such a bad idea.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Sirens weren’t uncommon in your area, but it seemed like there were an awful lot more tonight. You can barely rest your eyes, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach. You toss and turn, before angrily switching your nightlamp back on.

You awkwardly stretch your arm out and reach for your dresser, fishing out your vibrator. You line it up to your pussy, not bothering to take your clothes off and just shoving it down your pants.

You turn it on, only to be met with absolutely nothing. Shit. You forgot to charge it last night.

Before you can hurl the stupid thing across your bedroom, a suspicious noise comes from your front door. You make out the sound of someone attempting to unlock it, and almost shit yourself.

Maybe those self defense tips Dex taught you wouldn’t go to waste after all. You kept the lights off, remembering what he told you about you knowing the layout of your house better than a stranger would.

You creep towards your kitchen, grabbing the pan you neglected to clean off your stove for dinner, before inching closer to the door. It feels like an hour goes by before your door swings open. In a state of panic you blindly toss your weapon at the intruder, who easily punches it down to the floor.

You yelp at the clang of metal hitting the floorboards, stumbling backwards as a masked man slowly steps inside your apartment. You feel like you can’t breathe, and you want to hurl a threat at him, but your words are stuck in your throat.

He stares at you from under his brows, and now that you look closer, he’s clutching at his bloody right side. What kind of intruder breaks in with a busted body?

“P–please,” you muster, holding your hands out as you take a step back for each one he takes closer. He furrows his brows at that, grunting in effort as he rips the mask from his face.

“Hey, it’s just me,” Dex speaks softly, his body language mirroring the way he’d approach a stray cat. “Sorry, I thought you recognised me,”

“I could’ve killed you!” You exaggerate, throwing your hands up.

You quickly come to your senses about the man standing in front of you. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Your eyes darted down to his wound again. Somehow that’s not the most important thing right now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he shushes you, closing the door behind him like he doesn’t want to get caught a second time tonight. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he lies.

“You’re supposed to be in jail, Dex.”

“I got out. I had to… to see you… and right my wrongs, I–”

“You mean killing those people?” you ask quietly, remembering how much less remorseful he sounded in that court room.

“I can’t explain properly right now… or– or make excuses for what I did, okay?” he starts, testing the waters by taking a slow step towards you. “But I made things right tonight. I did what I had to do, but I promise you, I’m not one of the bad guys, baby.” The pet name slips. Out of habit or on purpose, neither of you were sure.

You hesitate, noticing how his wound was gushing more blood by the second. “Okay, just… sit down. I’ll get a first aid kit,” you mutter, stepping over your dented frying pan to switch the lights on.

Dex sits awkwardly at your dining table, his large frame a stark contrast to your cute little chairs. He groans as he lifts his shirt up, exposing his stomach to give you better access.

You return with the first aid kit, dragging a chair and sitting across from him. Sitting so close to him really put into perspective how much larger he’d gotten. You force your gaze to stay on his wound, looking at his face felt like too much right now.

“It’ll hurt.” You nod at his hand and he moves it away for you. 

“I’ve dealt with worse.” His voice comes out rough, like he’s holding himself back. 

“Right,” you mumble under your breath, scooching your chair closer until your knees brush his thighs. 

He shifts his hips, leaning forward and lifting his shirt slightly higher. You notice a few new scars that weren’t there a couple years ago, and resist the urge to ask him about them.

You grab a pair of tweezers and begin digging around for the bullet. You’re thankful for all those medical shows you watched for desensiting you to blood. It keeps you from passing out. You glance up at his face for a moment to check he’s not in any pain, but quickly look back down when you realise his eyes are already on you.

You hated how handsome he looked right now. How handsome he was in general. It’s not like that was the only part you liked about him, but it definitely didn’t hurt. It was just extremely distracting.

Finally grasping the stubborn foreign object, you drop the bullet onto your dining table. You don’t question how or why he got shot, and just quietly resume with your treatment. 

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” he asks after a moment of silence. He’s trying to hide any sense of jealousy in his voice in case you’ve done this to someone else. Even if it were in a platonic way, he’d rather swallow an airplane than let you be that intimate with anyone other than him.

“Tutorials online.” You shrug. Grabbing sutures and a needle, you begin stitching the wound close. You give him another quick glance, which he returns with a small smile.

He hums in response, satisfied with your answer.

You continue suturing the wound. You forgot to ask if he was in any pain, your focus solely on closing up this bullet hole. In truth, you never watched those tutorials all the way through– but you’ve sewn before and that’s practically the same thing, right?

Dex watches you in admiration, recalling the way you stuck your tongue out when you were deep in concentration. “Missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, waiting for your reaction with bated breath.

Your hands pause as you glance up at him with a pained expression.

“Dex…”

“You didn’t miss me?” he whispers, his large hand covering one of yours. “You and I both remember you coming to my hearing, baby.” There was the pet name again.

You remember how flustered he got when you first called him ‘baby’. It was cute. He had confessed early on that he’s never dated anyone before you, and that he wasn’t ‘good at feelings’. If only you knew why that was the case, maybe you could’ve saved yourself all this trouble.

You almost pull away at the sudden touch, but decide against it. You stare at his bloody hands, which have now tainted yours. “Can we not do this?” you whisper back, clearly avoiding the question.

He quirks an eyebrow at that, closing his hand around yours and turning it so your palm faces upwards. “Do what?”

You don’t know if all that time spent in jail upped his confidence, but he wasn’t the same Dex you remember all that time ago.

“Act like we never broke up,” you say with a sigh, drawing your hands away from him and setting down the needle.

He ignores you. “Why did you come to the hearing?” He says your name just as softly as he did when you were still together. “I know you came for a reason, you wouldn’t have dressed up all pretty like that ‘less it was for me.” he jokes, or at least you think he’s joking.

“I wasn’t even wearing my best– Dex, what are you trying to say?”

“You came because you wanted to see me one last time, didn’t you?” he stares into your eyes and it’s like he’s managed to look into your mind. 

You’re quiet, and that gives him his answer.

He moves into your space, slowly to give you a chance to move away. 

“You could’ve kicked me out tonight. Shit, you’re the only person who’s ever been able to boss me around like that.” Another lie, but you don’t need to know that. “But you didn’t.”

You meet his gaze, which seems darker. Maybe it was the lighting.

One of his hands reaches around and grips the back of your chair, his face now inches from yours. Your eyes flicker across his face, but they linger on the permanent scar etched across his cheek.

You wanted to reach out and touch it. Kiss it.

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll leave.” He pauses. His voice is so quiet you can barely hear him.

“Baby, you’ll never see me again.” He nods like it’s a promise. And a small part of you knows it’s not. 

You don’t listen to it, and let your eyes flicker down to his lips. A small cue that anyone could miss, but Dex doesn’t.

His lips crash into yours. It isn’t romantic, but filthy and lustful. Even a few seconds of kissing could tell you this was not the same Dex you first met that day at your favourite coffee shop. His hands cradle your face like if he were to let go, you’d leave him forever.

You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, a move you knew he loved, and he moans in return. Dex was always a loud kisser, whimpering and groaning into your mouth while you barely touched him always gave you a rush nobody else could.

You gasp into his mouth as he forces his tongue past your lips, passionately sucking and stroking against yours. One of his hands comes down around your waist, his entire forearm large enough to wrap around you and shift you into his lap. 

“Dex, wait, your wound,” you mumble between kisses, gently pushing at his shoulder to get him to slow down.

He obliges and pulls back enough to see your face.

“I’m fine, I just need you, baby. All you.” He immediately dives back in, convinced those simple words were enough to sway you.

You melt into his touch, almost mistaking his raging hard-on for one of his knives slotted around his hips. You hear him curse under his breath as your hand brushes against it.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” he growls, picking you up without struggle and carrying you to your bedroom. You cling onto his broad shoulders, legs wrapped around his hips, which sway with each step he takes. 

“Show me, then.” you ask of him boldly as he gently lays you on the bed. He peels off the rest of his shirt and tosses it across the room. You spread your legs enough for him to slot himself between them and start slowly kissing your neck. You throw your head back, allowing him better access.

His hands greedily make their way beneath your shirt, a small gasp escaping his lips as his fingers brush against your bare breast. You crack a smile at that, missing how shy he’d be at times especially when it came to sex.

“So. Fucking. Perfect,” he grunts between kisses, descending to your collarbones before fully lifting your shirt above your head. He wastes no time, attacking your breasts with bites and kisses before dragging his warm tongue across one of your nipples. You scratch and cling at his shoulders, blooming red marks on his skin. You trace a newfound scar all the way down his spine, and he shivers from your touch. He gives the other nipple attention by pinching it between his fingers, and then switching.

He leaves open mouthed kisses down your stomach, not breaking eye contact once until he begins undressing your lower half. You think you hear him shudder at the sight of your pussy.

He palms himself through his pants, unbuckling the belt of weapons at his hips to give him better access. He gently grabs either one of your thighs with his hands, pushing them to your chest and shoving his face against your cunt. 

“God, I missed the way you taste.” He moaned against your mound, stubble rubbing against your skin. “Why did I ever let you leave me, huh?” his voice is muffled against your clit, placing sloppy kisses against it.

You can only moan in response, pussy clenching around nothing as you buck your hips up into his face. You grab a fist of his hair again, basically drowning him in you. He thinks he could die a fulfilled man.

His tongue plunges into your hole, slurping and licking creating a lewd atmosphere in your once lonely apartment. He grunts, grinding his clothed erection into the mattress and letting precum soak through the fabric.

Your eyes roll back in ecstasy, hips squirming and back arching. He easily pins you down with his arms, locking your legs into place so he can continue his assault on your pussy. Sometimes it felt like he was eating you out for his own pleasure. Not that you were complaining.

He comes up for air, switching his mouth for his fingers while he stares at how your face twists in pleasure. “That’s it, baby. You got it,” he praises softly, two fingers slipping into your hole like they belong there. 

He believes they do.

He lowers his mouth to your clit again. He doesn’t need to dig around, he curls his fingers up into that perfect spot on the first try. He could never miss it, not even with his eyes closed.

It might be embarrassing for the average man to admit, but Dex was far from average. After your first time he immediately recorded everything that made you tense up or relax. Every sexual interaction after that he would keep mental tabs about which moans meant what, and how he could utilise his near perfect aim and satisfy you so nobody else would ever measure up. 

He knew about your little hookup era. Of course he did. He had his ways of catching up with your life once he escaped jail.

He could never be mad at you. No, that would mean he’d have to lose himself first. Though, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of letting out his negative emotions on the guys you’d fucked. It’s not like you’d ever see them again. Not anymore, since he was back to take care of you.

He starts to notice the cues of your orgasm building up, the way your grip on his scalp tightens, how quiet you suddenly got, and your legs locking up. He continues the same pace he knows you like, savouring every taste of your pussy as he digs his fingers into your thighs. 

Your breath quickens, thighs squeezing around his head as your back arches off the bed. “Fu– I’m… gonna cum,” you manage to gasp out, before your orgasm hits you like a wave. You moan loudly, and Dex’s tongue doesn’t let up on your clit as you ride out your high. 

You think that might’ve been your best orgasm yet. 

You notice Dex is still going to town and weakly push his head away. He lets you go with one final suck, licking his lips before he chuckles.

“There you go,” he coos, quickly dipping his head down to kiss you and letting you taste yourself. You steal a kiss at his cheek, feeling the roughness of his scar against your lips. He pats at your thigh, climbing off the bed to strip the rest of his clothes off.

You can’t help but appreciate the view. It’s been so long since you last saw his body you’d most definitely forgotten the sheer beauty of it. You noticed his thighs were thicker when he straddled you on his lap, but looking at them bare definitely made a difference.

He always loved the way you’d stare when he took his clothes off. Of course, he knew his body was somewhat attractive, but the attention coming from you felt so damn good. He slowly steps out of his boxers, his thick cock leaking precum.

He climbs back on top of you, this time lifting your hips up and resting them over his so he can line himself up with your wet cunt. 

“Dex, please…” you whine, trying to move your hips forward and catch his cock on your pussy. 

He holds you still with one hand, softly shaking his head. “You know my name, baby.” he mumbles, and you realise you haven’t called him by his actual name in so long.

“Ben,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him close. “Please fuck me,” you stare up at him with a small pout.

He leans in to breathe against your neck, before slowly pushing into your hole. “Anything for you.”

You both gasp, bodies melting at the shared moment of bliss. Your nails dig into his flesh, and you bite into his shoulder, muffling your moans. He hasn’t even started moving and you feel like a second orgasm is already bubbling inside you.

“I know, baby. You’re okay, I got you.” He plants a soft kiss to your temple, slowly beginning to thrust in and out.

You might just be imagining things because it’s been so long, but you feel like it wasn’t just his muscles that got bigger.

“Fuck, Ben,” you push at his abdomen, wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure. “You’re too… big,”

“I know, I know.” He repeats, slowing his thrusts down by a fraction as he cradles your head against his shoulder. “You’re taking me so well. ‘M so… fuck-ing proud of you,” his voice falters as he feels you squeeze around his cock from his praise.

A few more slow, shallow thrusts and you start to get used to his size again. He doesn’t stop whispering little praises throughout it.

“You’re so good for me, baby.”

“You don’t know how much I missed you.” 

“Gonna fill you up and breed this fucking pussy.”

His thrusts gradually increase in speed, he angles his hips perfectly so his tip kisses your cervix. His cages your body in his, using the position to fuck deeper and reach spots you’d never be able to find by yourself.

You quickly turn into a cock drunk mess, babbling incoherent sentences while you mark up his back. He chuckles, stroking your hair and planting kisses at the top of your head. 

“You tryna tell me something, baby?” He grunts, feeling the burn in his thighs from fucking you in this position.

“Mm… gonna cum again,” you blink up at him, mouth falling open and brows knitting together in pleasure.

“Yeah? You wanna be good f’me and hold it in until I say so?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, quickening his thrusts and grabbing the back of your neck so your eyes meet his.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing a hand against his chest to brace yourself. You could tell he was getting close too, the way his breath came out in heavy huffs and every muscle in his body flexing. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re gonna cum with me, okay?” he lifts his head to confirm you nodding, before sinking back into your neck. “Gonna fill you up so good you’ll never wanna leave me again.” he mutters the last part under his breath.

You can’t hold it off any longer, nails digging so hard into Dex’s flesh they draw blood. He groans loudly against your ear, hips stuttering as your pussy flutters around him deliciously. You can feel him come inside you, the warmth blooming in your cervix.

Dex hovers over you for a few moments, letting your pussy milk the last of his cock before he pulls out and lays down beside you. Your mind’s still reeling from your orgasm. You don’t even have the strength to resist him pulling you into his embrace, holding you flush against his chest.

“You’re mine.” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, then your arm. “Right, baby?”

 You nod mindlessly, feeling a rush of exhaustion overtake your body as you melt into the pillow that is his arm.