evil cat⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡

“I’d love to stand around and ask you how you know where I live, but I actually have to get to work.” She stood in front of him, keys now out of attack mode. Tim had obviously made himself comfortable. There was even another filter lying on the ground next to his boots, like he’d been waiting for her. She tried not to be so paranoid, it was probably lying there for a while. Smoke wisps in the breeze while Ophelia snaps herself out of the full body look over. 

“I just wanted to talk for a minute. It’s about Toby.” Not answering her actual question, he sighs and stands up. Ophelia took another step back. His thumb hung from his pocket, his gaze at the treeline surrounding the parking lot. 

“You…just might not want to spend your time hanging out with him.” 

Ophelia stared at him with nothing but confusion. Why would he have any say in what she did? Familiar annoyance slowly seeped its way in. Sure, she didn’t meet Toby in the best situation, but who was he to tell her who to hang out with? Her eyebrows knit with frustration trying to understand. “You…You can’t tell me what to do…” She mutters, massaging her temple. 

“It’s just a warning?” He’s confused too, no longer watching the paper burn between his middle and index fingers. 

“I don’t even know you! A-And…I barely know Toby!” Ophelia’s face feels hot. She has to remind herself not to start screaming at him. Anger boiling in her chest, her hands vibrating softly with nerves. 

Tim takes one more drag before flicking the end somewhere she wasn’t focused on. 

“C’mon..” His exhale is slow. “You know Toby.” 

Ophelia refused to look at him.

It was quiet from her own stubbornness. What she tried so hard to push down and put behind her. Tim was right, of course she knew Toby. 

She wasn’t trying to act clueless. If she was being honest, it was all she thought about. She spent all her time trying not to think about the very obvious truth. Toby set the building on fire, and by extension ended someone's life. The smell of gasoline lingers, and denial runs deep. Much like everything else in Ophelia’s life, she spent all her effort just trying to forget. 

This all came down to her real problem.

She found herself not really mourning the gas station attendant. No empathy in her. She even tried to cry for him, but all she could think about were his sunken eyes watching her. The building was rotting, the employee was a creep, even the pump barely worked. Ophelia didn’t want to think that whatever happened was deserved, but it kept coming around. In the end, she wasn’t afraid of Toby, and it scared her. Being called out wasn’t on her list of things to do today.

A deep breath. 

“Okay. Yeah, I know him–” She crosses her arms, folding into herself. 

“Then you know he’s a little out there.” Without missing a beat, he’s back to lecturing. “You just shouldn’t be letting someone drag you off, especially not to those woods.” 

“Whatever.” Ophelia walks towards the driver's side, and Tim follows. As if walking away wasn’t enough of a conversation stopper. He continues. “Not whatever. He’s seriously not for everyone.” 

 “No- Whatever!” They’re close when she turns to face him, the smell of aftershave mixed with the lingering nicotine was near overwhelming her senses. “What do you even care? We met once, and you were a total douche!” Opening the door and throwing her purse to the passenger seat, she turns back again. “You should work on first impressions. Maybe then I’d take your unwanted advice.”

He finally takes a step back, pulling out a crushed pack of menthols and a lighter. “Yeah, well–” Tim scoffs, “Don’t blame me when things don’t work out, princess.” Her car door slams, her middle finger pressed against the window while he watches her pull out. One hand in his pocket, the other holding the newly lit cigarette. He never stopped watching her.

‘If he wasn’t so annoying, he’d actually be hot.’ Ran through her mind before waving it from her mind, focusing on the drive rather than thinking more about Tim. The radio didn’t make her head feel any better, so the 10 minute drive to work was spent in silence. Mostly just trying to keep her mind off Tim. Attempting to mentally prepare herself for a shift that she was forcing herself to go to. The quiet wasn’t helping, but it never did. She’d always struggled with not having anything to block out the weird thoughts that would riae to the surface. The headaches were new, but the paranoia wasn’t. Feeling watched and thinking of darker subjects were familiar obstacles to avoid. 

All of her ex-foster families would hand her back to the orphanage with the same complaints every time.

“Her nightmares are unmanageable.” 

“She isn’t connecting with the family, she’s antisocial.”

“Ophelia has an over-active imagination, and it’s scaring us.”

If you asked her where it all started, she wouldn’t be able to answer. Ophelia couldn’t even remember her parents, instead some of her earliest memories are of police sirens and officers questioning her. Law enforcement mentioned that she’d be ‘okay’, that she just needed time. Even the therapists she spoke with tried to convince her that it’d all be ‘fine’. She never really knew what would be ‘fine’ or why she needed to be ‘okay’. It was hard to understand at 6, but it was harder to understand at 24. 

Ophelia didn’t know why she was weird. She just accepted the part of herself that was scared, and tried to silence those morbid thoughts that would surface. 

Pulling behind the concert venue, she sat in her car for a minute to compose herself. In her purse she dug out the half-full bottle of pain relievers. Even if they weren’t working, it was worth the effort to try and silence the low static hum in the back of her mind. 

Nothing felt normal anymore, so it was just easy to push it all off. ‘Try again next week’ seemed to be her new motto. Ophelia ignored the feeling of being watched, the sound of static, and that creeping numb that snuck up on her all the time. A paycheck was worth more than worrying about whatever she had going on. Just hoping that the sharp buzz wouldn’t bother her once she was in the sound boot, it was all too good to be true.

It only took an hour to send her home. 

Her pounding skull resting against the soundboard, it was difficult to even keep her eyes open while the soundcheck tortured her. Her manager Todd seemed to notice, standing outside the booth door watching her slack through the glass. The band had been trying to get her attention, but every call to her had gone muffled and Ophelia never noticed. 

“Just go.” Todd’s stern voice broke the daze she’d found herself in.

“What?” She asked like it was coming out of nowhere. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow. I have Eric coming in to cover you.” 

She couldn’t fight, even with the pit in her stomach. Ophelia knew what the conversation was going to entail. Almost wishing he’d just fire her then and there, but she made up her mind to just ignore the call and ask for more hours at her retail job the next day. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise? With her condition over the last week, maybe two jobs were just out of reach.

All these thoughts circled her mind as she made her way to her car. The sun was just about to set, the parking lot filling with concert go-ers. Which only made it more embarrassing when her car decided to sputter and squeal in agony. A group walking past watched her through the windshield bang her already sore head against the wheel.

Great.

First, she’s losing her job. Then her car decides to die on her? (Maybe it was the other way around.)

It was fine on the way to work, why now? She tried to think of all the people she could’ve fucked over, there had to be a reason everything was going so wrong.

This was just another example of her perfect luck. 

Ophelia fought the tears back, as she was all too aware of the eyes on her. The lack of light in her dark corner of the concrete lot meant it would be basically impossible to pop the hood and decipher the issue, so the long walk home was her only option. She’d just return in the morning to see if it was fixable. Of course she had to live in the small town without a taxi service. At least the sound of the summer crickets wouldn’t irritate her mystery migraine. After a deep breath, she grabbed her purse, locked her car, and started the trek home.

A cool breeze flushed the humidity, the sun had gone down and the sky was a deep blue mixing into black. The stars clear from the lack of light pollution from the practically quiet streets. Street lights grew further apart once the sidewalk ended, turning onto her poorly paved street. In between spotlights she watched the fireflies skim the tops of overgrown grass along the woods. Her head now quiet, void of anything except the thought of getting home. 

“He-Hey.” Broke the silence behind her.

Ophelia briefly reminded herself to be aware of her surroundings when walking home in the night.

Turning cautiously, she met him in the dark once again. “Toby?” She recognized the stutter, of course. Not many people spoke to her, so it was easy to keep track of who it could be. 

A masked Toby stood just outside of the visible street light, dimly flickering over her.

He was quiet, arms crossed. Tim’s warning played in her head again just before she stubbornly waved it off. “What are you doing out here, Toby?” Her fist clutched tighter onto her purse once a subtly metallic smell wafted her way. Was he bleeding? Ophelia wanted to get closer. Make sure he was okay, but that nagging feeling persisted. Not wanting to get closer for fear of what 

“You t..talked to Tim.” He finally spoke again, something bitter laced the statement. “H-He told me.”

Ophelia didn’t think it was a big deal, “Yeah…he showed up at my apartment?” A car passed by, swerving the pair standing on the edge of the asphalt. They probably didn’t even see Toby, who blended into the night. “D-Don’t listen to him…” He sounded so different, rougher. The muffle of his mask made it difficult to figure out if he was crying or just angry. Before she could question him, Toby continued. “P-Please…Don’t stop t-talkin’ to m..me..” He stammered out, his arms unfolding and falling to his sides. Clenched fists next to the mysterious handles that she hadn’t seen since their first encounter. That metal scent didn’t go away, only getting seemingly stronger.

She thought it was a ridiculous thing to question. Aside from her natural interest in Toby, no one could tell her who she could and couldn’t pursue relationships with.

“Toby…Are you okay..?” Ophelia questions, not knowing if she even wanted an answer.

He didn’t seem to be listening anyways, skipping over her concern and muttering to himself. Silently cursing the natural sounds of the woods that she couldn’t make out his quiet ramblings. She just wanted to go home, safely within four walls and away from the weird night she was having.

She briefly considered just turning and going home, but again Toby speaks up. “I-I don’t th..tthink you should talk t-to Tim anymore.” He decides for her, “..O-Or Brian. Don’t talk to either of them..” Muttering to himself again only a little louder, “Th-They’re basically the same..”

Another guy that’s just trying to tell her what to do. How many times would she shoot down that kind of control? “I don’t think you have any say either, Toby. I…I think you should calm down..then we can talk–” Ophelia takes a step back, looking over her shoulder, then back to his now shaking silhouette. “Y-You listen to Tim. Not mm..me.” His shadowed figure staring at her, orange goggles were the only thing she could actually make out. 

She wanted to interject, she really didn’t listen to anyone, but that was besides the point. Her night was once again shifting closer to a horror movie. Her headache returning at the worst time, she swore the static was getting louder. As if someone was turning the dial on an old radio in the back of her brain, it was getting harder to focus.

“I should…get home, Toby…” 

“N-No.” It felt like he was staring a hole straight through her. Clutching one of the handles by his hip. His hand flexed as if trying to check if it was still there.

“Toby..?”

He finally revealed himself. What the night hid, a huge blood splatter across the front of his hoodie. His labored breath, his eyes looked desperate behind the orange barrier. “D-Don’t run.” Ophelia didn’t listen. Staring at the reveal of his axe in the light, connecting the stain on his front to the blood that dripped from the edge of the blades that swung lazily at his side. 

She turned without hesitation starting off at a full sprint. 

As fast as she could, which wasn’t saying much. Her sneakers pounded against the pavement, too afraid to even look back. She knew he was chasing after. Through the hammering pain that nearly stopped her in her tracks she could easily make out the sound of his boots gaining on her. He was faster, proving it by easily grabbing her wrist.

Her body whipped, nearly slamming against the road if Toby hadn’t been holding onto her. “Ophelia, puh-please!” He pleads with her, grip tight around her. She needed to live. Ophelia had made it so far, just to die on her second encounter with a definite-arsonist murderer? She wondered what her fire would look like after he threw the match.

In the palm of his hand, she faced him. What she assumed was a mask was instead a muzzle that now hung from his neck. What the bandage previously hid was a large gash that connected to the scar over his eye. Teeth peeked through where red and scarred skin stretched the edges. Contrasting against the softness of his Her breath shook, she wasn’t even sure if anything was real. “Toby..” Her voice allmost a whisper, unsure if she’d even make it 15 more feet to her apartment's driveway. Even without a street light she could see him clearly. The scent of blood and earth flooded her senses. Her head continued to spiral downward. 

His brows knit concern, eyes locked only on her. “Ah..” He starts, mouth open as he thought about his own words. “Are you scared of me, Ophelia?” 

It was a stupid question. The answer was obvious to anyone. 

Her fear sourced from her life probably ending, but when she thought about Toby. It was almost hard to be truly afraid. Making it out alive was at the top of her list, the same way since she was a child. 

Headlights shone over the hill behind her. Illuminating Toby’s bloodied figure, and flipping a switch in his head. He released her with a low whine as if they’d been interrupted in the middle of an important conversation. His muzzle returned to saddle his face. Ophelia didn’t wait around to find out where he’d run off to, instead turning the second he let go and setting off to a run. 

Maybe the car had slowed down after noticing a girl running in the night, but she didn’t care. Home. Her eyes set on her front door, she was almost there. Ophelia would go inside, shower, and sleep in peace. Be thankful she survived.

Before she hit the stairs, her footing became unsteady. Tripping over herself, and losing herself in the process. Night washed over and that old radio distorted in her mind.

She wakes up standing in the center of a bright white light.

“Do you fear for your life yet?” A deeply warped voice spoke behind her.

Ophelia turns, trying to find the source.

In an empty room, white walls and floors that went on forever, all she could see was a shadow out of the corner of her eye.

No one.

“Do you want to remember it all?” They threatened. Ophelia turned again.

No one.

The smell of the morning dew, the sound of the flowing river nearby, rustling of leaves. These sounds were non-threatening. Ophelia just didn’t remember leaving her window open.

Her voice was hoarse, trying to complain about the wet prickles against her skin, but nothing came out. Trying to find the object stabbing her within her bedsheets only resulted in the discovery that there were no bedsheets to find.

The woods around her brushed with the golden sunrise, the sky hinting with light blues. 

“What..the fuck..” She manages to speak, sitting up and looking around. Wearing her clothes from the night before, her sneakers unlaced and caked in mud. Her shirt and jeans clung to her, damp from the elements and covered in mud. The grass around her long and unkempt, and under her lay a bed of wildflowers and moss. Without any idea of how she’d gotten there, she just blamed a bout of sleepwalking. Maybe her headache had morphed into a supernaturally painful migraine? Her inner auto-pilot leading her into the quiet of the forest. Scanning more of the area, hoping to find a landmark to find her way. Nothing stood out aside from the metal glint that caught her eye in the brush.

Crawling closer, moving the strands of green to reveal a clean kitchen knife. Blade pointed away from her, as if it was thrown to the side without a care.

She stood up, backing away from the possible evidence. 

Ophelia was getting more confused by the second. Looking around for more clues, but finding none. It felt like someone was watching her. Waiting for her to notice them. She reminded herself to take a deep breath. No one was watching her. This was just a case of weird sleepwalking. It wasn’t something she’d done in years, but not shocking. Again, she needed to remind herself that no one was watching her.

Instead of searching for the source to that dark feeling, Ophelia decided to make a single smart decision and try to make it home. Of course she’d brought her biggest kitchen knife. Making it harder to conceal on her walk from her makeshift camp. Without a plan on what to do next, she stumbled unsteadily down a path of grass footsteps. Even after the trail mixed with animal tracks, she continued straight. Eventually coming across the back of her apartment. 

Home wasn’t far, which she was thankful for. Sore muscles pushed her up the stairs, her downstairs neighbor lifted a blind just to watch her stalk tiredly. Ophelia couldn’t be bothered by his eyes, not with the feeling that she’d been followed home.

Her front door was unlocked. Great. Not being able to remember even coming inside, she was surprised that her door wasn’t wide open too. Possibly inviting any kind of creep to walk in and steal away her life. Her purse was even dropped right at the door. Closing and locking the deadbolt behind her, a quick survey of the living room didn’t show that anything was missing. The microwave displayed the time; 7:30. At least she had time to prepare for her shift later, sighing and going to make a cup of tea for the ache in her throat.

The knife laid on the kitchen island. Mocking her while the kettle boiled. Her mug pulled from the drying rack, waiting with a teabag saddled on its edge. Ophelia was trying to recount her steps from that night, how did she get the knife then leave her house? How could a migraine be blamed? Or sleepwalking? She sighed, pinching her bridge between her eyes. 

Whatever happened to her, she’d try her best to fix it. Something the doctor could figure out, hopefully. 

The ring of her cordless got her attention. In the corner of her island, she reached for the phone only to be met with a spam caller. 

6 missed calls. 4 voicemails.

And in digital letters; MONDAY, JUNE 16. 

Monday?

Ophelia left work on Saturday. The concert was on a Saturday. She met Toby on Saturday night. 

The clock had to be wrong, surely.

She scrambled to find the remote to her small TV set, finding it shoved between couch cushions. The familiar news anchor talking about a local food bank opening in town, bantering with his co-anchor who folded her hands on their shared desk. In the left corner of the screen she noted the scrolling date. 

MONDAY. JUNE 16. LIGHT SHOWERS IN THE EVENING, HIGH OF 82.

It was hard to believe she’d been out for a full day. Maybe she was still dreaming? A whole dream within a dream. Ophelia had seen enough movies with the plot, though none ever seemed as real as this one. 

Her kettle squealed, crying for attention. Eyes wide with fear watching the steam pillow out of the spout. 

Her body moved back to the kitchen. Clicking the stove off while the kettle screams winded down. She figured there was only one way to find out if she was dreaming. Even her hand warped in her vision, staring down at her fingers. 

Reaching out just enough to touch the tip of her right pointer out and touching the red middle of the still boiling kettle.

The pain registered immediately. Yelping and falling back onto the kitchen tile. Grasping her finger tightly as she stared up at the stove in disbelief. Tears pricking the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over the more she thought.

Where the hell had she been?

Soft, sweet kisses. Your hands placed so sweetly on her chest, trying to keep yourself supported while each peck got more desperate. Hungrier for more of her sweet girl.

Her hands held tight on your hips, grinding up against your seat on her lap. Smirking at your innocent expression. "You wanna?" She would offer, and of course you'd agree. Your shyness only went so far, you always gave into Natalie's wants.

Next thing you know, she's buried between your thighs. Taking her time kissing at the plush of your inner thighs, an occasional bite or nip while she watched your expression. Your clenched fists trying to cover your mouth failed to muffle the sweet whines and mewls that escaped. Her smile widening with each twitch, each lift of your hips that begged for her touch.

She wasn't cruel to her lover, Natalie loved this near-selfish need of yours.

Planting a kiss over your clit, her tongue giving you a generous swipe up from your hole that begged for any ounce of attention. She watched you sink into the bliss of her old mattress while slipping two fingers inside easily. You were so used to her by now, she almost wondered how easy it'd be to strap you down and fuck you till you begged for mercy.

Natalie tried to shake the thought out of her head, needing to take care of you.

Lapping up every bit of your slick that dripped down your heat, her fingers hooked inside of you. It was amazing watching you try to keep down the moans that resulted, she would make sure you had no choice but to cry out for her.

When she speeds up her fingers pace, you whine louder. Thrashing into the bed, grasping tightly onto the sheets enough to pull a fitted corner free. Her mouth giving your clit all the attention it needed, her previously chapped lips now glistening with remnants of you. Your cunt pulsed around her, nearly crying with you when she pulled back to focus on finishing you off with just her two digits.

"C'mon, cum for me." She grins as you cry out her name, arching into her while she bounced you in place.

Only slowing down the harder you shook. The release ripping through you, holding her intense gaze while she watched you unravel.

The clock ticked, but all she wanted to hear was your voice begging her to come hold you. Your hands unlatched from the sheets, reaching out for her. Your chest rising and falling, lips parted.

Natalie just smirked.

"No, baby...I think we have time to play a little more, right?"

You’re taking off your boots when he turns around, unaware of the glare directed towards you. “You really want to know what’s wrong? Seriously?” Tim’s facing you when you look up, and that annoying smile grows on your face. “--Like you don’t know..” He huffs, crossing his arms. 

You just shake your head innocently. “How would I know? We had a successful mission, a nice walk back, I’m about to make some dinner.” You’re fucking with him, but it’s gone over his head. “Oh- Oh a ‘successful’ mission! When you go against the plan, drag a guy into the woods and kill him. Real successful.” 

“Why stalk him when we can just finish him off?” You feign confusion, and Tim groans. It wasn't like you were a brand new proxy. It was really just you not wanting to waste time, you knew that eventually another task would come through to kill the man in the woods. It was just a matter of finishing up early instead of trekking around the forest at night. Tim was more straight laced than that, wanting things to go his way rather than listen to someone else. 

“You’d rather be reckless than safe, that’s fine. Just do it when you’re alone and I don’t have to watch you seduce random guys into the bushes.” He tosses his hands, making his way into the small kitchen. You follow. His subtle confession only makes you more interested. 

“Seduce?” You muse, and he huffs again. Tim’s trying not to look your way. He’s ‘busy’ looking in the fridge while you get closer. “I think I know what’s wrong…maybe…” You tease, poking his arm holding the door open with your index. “You’re jealous?” 

Tim straightens, the fridge slamming closed. He still won’t look at you. “How can I be jealous? You’re annoying.” 

You don’t move, instead standing your ground against his small tantrum. “Well, I just thought with that whole ‘seducing’ line..” Tim cuts you off, a finger raised to shut you up. “Because you did- Maybe if you actually listened for once–”

“What? Gonna punish me?” The hearts in your eyes form as you watch him process your teasing. Your hands behind your back, smile on your face.

Once the dots connect, you see his expression darken. “Punishment’s one word for it.” You think you’re getting away with it before he moves, he never followed up on your weird flirting before. Tim’s build easily engulfs yours, you could never overpower him. He grabs at your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder. You squirm against him even if it doesn’t get you anywhere. His arm holds you in place while he walks you towards his bedroom. His boots thud against the floor, each step feeling the weight of his patience. 

The room at the end of the hall. Just next to yours, you watch it disappear as he kicks the door shut behind him. 

The bed’s made neatly, untouched before you’re thrown onto the cotton sheets. Tim stands at the foot of the mattress, watching you adjust yourself up. You go to speak before he moves his palm over his belt to undo it. “Just shut the fuck up.” He sighs, leather unrolling from each loop before hitting the ground with a loud metal clang. 

His knee bends on the plush sheets, moving in closer towards you. Your thighs part, trembling from the nerves. You’d never made it this far. This was Tim, serious Tim. The guy who’s face flushed red when he couldn’t handle your disobedience. His hands are still fumbling at his zipper with each inch closer towards you. Your eyes trailed up his torso, along his flannel buttons and to his very focused gaze. Your reflexes cause you to try and back up before he closes in on you. 

He’s a better kisser than you imagined. Pushing past your guarded knees to meet you. His stubble scratches against you, but you barely take note. Hands travelling up to his hair, your fingers curling softly while he’s holding onto your hips. Moving you down and pulling down at the belt loops of your jeans. 

“Y…You’re so wet..” He starts breathless from the kiss, you’re too dazed to notice your pants had made it halfway down your thighs. The pads of his index and middle finger prod at the wet center of your underwear. A moan escapes you, eyes clamping shut and unable to see the smirk on his face while he watches you squirm at his light touch.

The fabric pushed to the side, Tim takes his time tracing you with a torturously slow pace. “T-Tim….pleaseee…” You whine quietly, hands balling up over your eyes trying to hide the tears that prickled from his teasing. 

“If this was all it took to get you to behave, I should’a fucked you months ago.” He muses before circling your clit with a heavier hand. Your fists crash into the sheets by your hips, grasping for your life against the tension. “You agree, yeah?” He’s having too much fun. Sitting back on his heels for a better look at you. Tim seemed more than proud of himself for disarming you like this. 

His free hand is pulling your jeans off and tossing them off the bed. Tim is usually more composed, but you can’t help but note his growing impatience. Pushing your thighs up, he moves to saddle you on his still-clothed crotch. His erection budding against your ass through the break in his zipper.

 “You gonna say something? Or just lay there and be good?” 

No response only seems to make him happier, your head bashfully turned to the side. He’s pulling himself out of his boxers and lining up with your entrance. Wet slick coating his head as he massaged along your slit. “Don’t worry, I know you can take it.” Tim dotes while admiring the view. 

He’s thick, a black trail peeking out from under his shirt and leading down and around the base of his shaft. Tim prods against you, a twinge of pain sounding in you as he pushes deeper. Probing against your tight walls, you feel every movement. Every throb of his cock vibrating through you. You’re trying not to cry out, covering your mouth with a still tight fist. 

Tim finds your wrist with his hand that isn’t focused on your core. Pulling your makeshift gag from your lips and moving it to replace his hand over your clit.

You finally look up at him through teary eyes, and see how he’s starting to come undone.

His damp fingers work at the buttons on his flannel, showing dark hair that spread across his chest. His face that familiar blush, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re tight…fuck…” Through gritted teeth he tries to regain his composure. “Feel how wet..?” He’s looking at you through dark lashes. His appearance was so perverted, you felt like a freak just looking up at him. You tightened again, eliciting a low groan from him. His head rolls back as he moves. Not even checking on you, your hand drifts to hold at the fabric of your slightly bloodied shirt. You stretched without much effort, he fit perfectly after only a minute inside you. Your pussy leaked around him, skin meeting skin filled the room as he managed to find a rhythm. 

His thumbs pressed into your hips, his grip firm while he fucked into you. Your head spinning with every thrust, every deep breath to compose himself, every heated look into your eyes. 

You don’t remember how many times he makes you cum, or when you’d both lost the rest of your clothing. Only that the sky past the old linen curtains had melted into a pitch black, which you only noticed after curling up into Tim’s side. Sweat sticking you both together with no intention of breaking apart any time soon.

“I don’t think I really count that as a punishment, by the way.” You break the silence with your over-used voice. A tired laugh bounces his chest, shaking you before falling back to calm.

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d forget about that line.” Tim retorts back, his hand travelling from rubbing circles into your back to petting your hair down. “It’s okay, Tim.” You smile, raising your head to look at him. “You can always try again next time.”

im putting my oc rambling here bc i know not everyone gives a gaf abt it

but ok like to talk about ophelia and her general relationship with tim at the start. i think that theyre so cat and mouse. tim wants her to listen to him, not to make any serious mistakes. like yeah hes interested in her but i think hes more pissed that he cant bitch at her like he does with toby. i think he lectures brian, but brian dishes it back out. ophelia i think just gets fed up with it. the same way that she felt in the junkyard, she would bite back and its like confusing for him

in the og script for this i even had tim being like 'girl what' when she calls him a douche but i took it out bc i like the idea of him not being used to people snapping back at him, at least not in a long time. toby wouldnt waste his breath most of the time and if he ever does then tims quick to be like 'when do you ever shut up' even if tims the one who runs his mouth the most out of the three

ophelia at the start of knowing tim is very much like 'if he wasnt so annoying he'd actually be hot' but i think she likes the bickering

You whine as he slips two digits inside of you. Arching into him, Tim has to remind himself not to be too rough. Even with your little moans and soft sounds, he knows he can't be too rough on his girl. Fingers stretching you out at a slow pace. His breath is heavy, basically panting into your ear as he tries to hold back.

His rhythm speeds up. Not that he can control it, but he's always so hard on himself when you mention a lingering soreness afterwards. You just sound so sweet the longer he teases you. Pulling your climax with a simple hook of his middle and ring finger, Tim knows just how to keep you happy. You look up at him through half lidded eyes, glazed in pleasure. It's never the end, he knows that look in your eyes as you slide from his lap and onto your knees. His smirk returns, slowly unzipping the tight crotch of his jeans. Tim really has no clue how he got so lucky. You're just too sweet for him.

Without much thought, you're rising up to move lace off to the side as he's lazily pulling his cock out of the buttoned crotch in his pajamas. "So eager.." Brian smirks as he returns his hands to your hips.

His tip nudges between your folds, slick coating his shaft as you prepare yourself. Your pussy basically begging to take him in, you whine. Brian is always so bossy, he can't even let you take control for a second. In his mind, even if he was exhausted, you were still his girl. He couldn't just let you do all the work.

Finally pushing in, his cock stretches you to fit. Your walls contracting around him, it's always so hard to think straight when you fuck. "You good, baby?" Brian loves to act all cool, but the blush on the tips of his ears site an inner struggle. "...mmhm..." You try to respond, but a soft moan creeps out.

It always takes you a second to adjust before you can start moving. Once you start slowly bouncing on his lap it's over. As if something switched in his brain, he's throwing his head back. "Fuuckk.." His hands firmly on you, trying to move you faster. "Gh..God Damn..." He chokes out when you do your best to speed up.

His hips buck up, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Tightening more than he thought he could handle. Through your incoherent babbles, you fold onto him. Pressing against his chest, face buried in his neck while you keep trying to move. Thankfully your boyfriend is strong. His grip on you helping him guide your rhythm. "C-C'mon, 'm so close..." Brian whispers between his grunts of effort, you nod weakly.

Of course you listen, because this loops back to your first task. Making Brian feel good. Pushing yourself up, you start riding again. Each slam down met with skin, he's basically done by the third pump inside.

You shudder while he fills you, nails dig into his forearms while you ride out the rest of your own climax. Brian just keeps his eyes on you. The gap in his teeth peeked between his cracked lips.

A sly smile splitting on his face, "Round two?" He offers.

You smile, tired. "..Of course, Bri..." You'd do anything for him, after all.

Last night scared her enough fear to last till Halloween. Ophelia needed to go back to her normal. Washing her face in a scalding hot shower, just to feel the experience wash down the drain. Letting go of the weird stuff was difficult when her whole life was spent in a daze of bad experiences. She still had work to do, an 11-3 at the local theater for their rehearsal of Phantom of the Opera. It was hard to even imagine standing in the sound booth after last night, and her headache surely wouldn’t thank her for listening to amatuer singers try and hit high notes. She considered calling off before imagining sitting at home alone all day. Picturing where her mind would take her. 

It was best to just try and ignore the anxiety eating away at her.

She thought it was an easy task till turning on the news while she made an easy breakfast. 

A middle aged news anchor sat seriously at his desk, “A life tragically lost after a local gas station suffers at the hand of a serial arsonist? Let’s go to Brenda on the scene.” Ophelia felt the butter knife slip from her weak grip and clatter on the floor, but it barely registered. Brenda stood in front of the same gravel lot, the gas pumps untouched while the building charred and smouldered black behind it. Even on her small TV she could still see tire tracks pressed into the gravel, she wondered if they were hers. 

“It seems that last night around midnight is when the fire started, as locals alerted authorities of the smoke. So far, there are no reported suspects, but there is evidence that someone was involv-” She scrambled for the remote, turning off the TV. 

Ophelia didn’t think too much as she picked up her phone and called her manager. Explaining her night vaguely enough to get her the day off. Her head really hurt after the stress set in.

Breakfast didn't sound appetizing after watching the aftermath of her night. 

It was just her luck that when she checked for any aspirin in her cabinets the bottle was sitting empty on the shelf. Probably just something she’d done during another one of her stress-induced headaches, she had no choice but to run to the pharmacy in town. She dressed in comfort, black sweatpants and a band tee that sat at the bottom of a drawer. It was the only thing that didn’t make her feel worse, even if she looked as bad as she felt. Dark circles under her eyes, clashed against pale skin. Hair pulled back into a high bun, she just couldn’t care. Even if she was at that burning pile, it wasn’t like she threw the match or anything. All she wanted was to put it behind her.

“You’re not alone.” Repeated in her mind, her dream now haunting her the same as last night.

Ophelia made sure her door was locked before turning to go down the stairs and to the parking lot. If Toby had followed her, which she really hoped wasn’t the case, she wasn’t just going to give him an open invitation into her home. Watching her feet as she walked down the stairs, she felt overly aware of everything around her. Even with her headache, the snap of a twig in the surrounding woods made her head turn to attention. 

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs to watch the direction the noise came from, staring hard at the treeline.

When a doe crept from between the trees, she sighed. Shaking her head and finally making it to her car. Maybe she was going crazy, her paranoia was getting bad again. Ophelia knew she looked crazy to her downstairs neighbors with their habit of watching her through broken blinds. 

Being the only store in town that sold anything you’d need in a medicine cabinet, it was pretty busy. The parking lot was mostly full of people making the same morning trip to get their errands done. Ophelia made her way inside, the radio playing the top 100’s softly under the general chatter from the aisles. Searching the sections, she eventually found the pain relief at the back corner. 

Taking the bottles and examining the labels, comparing prices, Ophelia could barely read the brands with how her skull seemed to be vibrating. Almost buzzing under the pressure.

“Y-You should get t-this one.” An almost familiar voice brings her back from mindnumbing pain. 

A skinny, gloved finger coming from the left of her is pointing at the pills in her right hand. She half expected to look up and see the matching mask, but instead a man with a taped bandage on his cheek smiling down at her. A mess of brown waves curling in front of his dark, deepset eyes. “M-My friend gets th-this one, I d-don’t know much about this stuff though.” He’s so casual, but she finally recognizes him. 

“Toby?” Ophelia whispers, like anyone would look at the two and think of them as the gas station arsonists. Aside from his gaunt complexion, Toby just looked like a normal (slightly damaged) individual. Without the mask you’d never expect him to be a (possible) arsonist– and murderer by extension.

He smiles, looking down at the floor bashfully while rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know if you’d even recognize me..” The smile still plastered on his face. Ophelia looked around, putting back the bottle that he didn’t recommend. “Y-You know I didn’t even t-think you’d be here today, I-I’m happy I ff-found you again..” Blush tinted the tops of his ears, Toby’s eyes drifted to her again with his hands now back in his hoodie pockets. He leaned against the racks while Ophelia stood in place, shocked. 

“Were you searching for me or something?” She finally takes another step back, and he notices her mood finally. “No- N-No! I w-was just picking up a-a snack!” From his hoodie pockets he pulled two cheap, pre-packaged waffles. Ophelia was more confused on why he’d be admitting so openly to stealing. 

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Toby hardly seemed like a threat, just a weird guy. “P-Promise I wasn’t f-f..followin’ you- I s-swear!” He twitches, seeming more freaked out about her possible fear of him than being caught stealing. 

Ophelia sighs again, holding out her hand. “Give me those.” Toby shrinks, standing straight up. “I’ll buy them for you. Sorry…for assuming. You know what they say…” His tail untucked from between his legs and he seemed to be back to his previous mood. “Really?” Dark brown eyes now lit up, his smile a little bigger. She wasn’t the richest person, but the 4 dollar cost wasn’t that crucial to her survival. Plus, it’s not like he was chasing her with a knife or anything. She had no proof that he was behind the fire, he just happened to be standing near the fire. 

–And not that she needed to rationalize it, but he was pretty cute without the mouthpiece. 

He handed over the packaging, following her close through the store. Right behind her heels, she could feel him staring a hole through her. Standing eagerly by her side at the registers while the cashier kept his head down. Obviously unnerved by Toby’s general vibe, not that she blamed him. It was like having a guard dog in the form of a weird, broke guy. 

After handing the cashier a ten, she took the bag and receipt to lead Toby along behind her. 

Standing just outside of the doors, she rummaged through the plastic to find his ‘meals’. He bounced in place, “T-Thanks! I ssh-should go to the store with you more often!” Toby held onto them like it was some precious artifact, and she had to hold back her laughter. He really didn’t seem that bad. She almost felt bad pushing the blame onto him.

“I’m Ophelia- By the way. I don’t think I even introduced myself yet.” 

He’s putting the food into their original home, his pockets. Grinning at her, “C-Can I show you something, Ophelia?” If this question had been asked to Ophelia from thirty minutes ago, she would’ve run screaming. She really wasn’t sure why she agreed in the first place.

He was missing a pre-molar tooth, had brown curly hair, freckles, and had a dimple on his un-bandaged cheek. She made a mental note of what to report to authorities as he led her on foot into the thicket behind the store. In case she made it out alive she needed to know these things.

“N-No one ever wants to hh..hang out with me! I’m gonna take you t-to my favorite-” A sudden twitch before he begins talking again, “M-My favorite spot!”

She couldn’t say that she was forced to go along, but it was just hard to say no to him. Ophelia was unnaturally interested in him, even past the lingering fear and anxiety. She was just happy the headache had stopped. Toby did most of the talking while they trekked through the trees. No path in sight, but he navigated without any issue. Ophelia just tried to focus on keeping up with him, and not falling flat on her face from the terrain.Everything looked the same to her, but he did say it was his favorite place. The soil spread from between rocks and grass, a hillside covered in thick moss tampered with their shoes, everything seemed so untouched. 

She'd never been so deep in the woods before. Not that she could remember, at least. 

Toby stopped at the edge of an exposed tree root. A few paces ahead of her, he was so much faster than she thought. When making it to his side, she realized just why he stopped. A drop down that seemed to be close to her height. She looked down at her cheap sneakers and wondered if they’d cushion her fall when she tripped down the steep drop.

Toby hopped down without a care, turning back to watch her do the same. After a moment of her hesitation, it looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. “I-I’ll catch you, Ophelia!” His arms extended, a smile on his face. “I-I got you!” 

Call her skeptical, but Toby looked like a strong gust of wind would knock him over. She didn’t know what he was capable of with the hoodie that hid away his body, but how could she trust a guy to catch her when she’d only really known him for less than a full day.

“I..don’t know…Is there another way down..?” Ophelia chewed at her thumbnail, examining the non-existent path down.

“J-Just jump!” He urges, his arms jerking back as his head whipped to the side. Toby’s tic hardly phased him, returning to wait beneath her with arms stretched out. Ophelia knew she couldn’t stand there forever. Too far into the woods to just leave, and too tired to try making it without the help. She took a deep breath, then nodded. Toby was bouncing in place with excitement. All she could do was trust him, which was already hard enough to do for her normally. Let alone with a stranger. 

Toby’s arms caught her at the hips with a small yelp sounding from her. If it wasn’t already embarrassing to have her body’s plush pressed by his face, he lingered the awkward hug for just a moment too long. “Toby, let me down..” Her face burned hot, the early June heat didn’t help her case. “Sorry!” Toby choked out before setting her down with care. Ophelia took note of his own blush, assuming that he pushed himself just to hold onto her. “I-It’s just up ahead-” He turned, hand cupping the back of his neck. 

Toby’s ‘favorite spot’ was a junkyard. 

Ophelia stood at the edge of the trash heaps, wondering why she even agreed to this in the first place. She was actually really curious about these types of hidden spots in the middle of the thick forest surrounding the town. It was more the fact that she allowed a random guy to lead her out in the woods. To herself she sighed, pressing on her temple to massage out the sharp pain of a forming headache. Toby peeked around the corner, head cocked curiously as to why she wasn’t following him. “Y-You comin’?” 

Cars lined her walk, piled up in clusters of threes. The place seemed fully abandoned with a green blanket over everything. The vehicles even looked to be from a different time. It was like a part of the town had been sucked into the woods and forgotten entirely. Everything left behind was covered with foliage and rust. She decided to pick up the pace, sticking close behind her escort. He didn’t seem to mind, instead looking around for something. Ophelia didn’t know what to expect when arriving to a clearing in the mess.

A circle bordered by the wall of scrap parts, but there were signs of life if you looked hard enough. Two trashed dart boards hung with giant splits down their plastic centers. Below them littered plastic wrappings, cans, and discarded cigarette filters. A blackened ash pile sat in front of an impossibly dingy couch. Deep darkened cushions that were faded from the weather, Toby made himself at home by flopping down. Arms slung across the back, his eyes on her while she takes in the mess. “Wow..! It’s…” Ophelia starts, unsure of what to even say to a junkyard man cave. “It’s cool rr-right? C-Come sit!” 

Excitedly he patted the seat next to him, dust flying with each invite. Nothing seemed less comfortable, less disgusting, but the way he called her over so eagerly... She wasn’t really open to sitting on the dirtier ground, or the rain rotted crates littered around. 

Before she could walk over, Toby’s eyes locked onto something. He stood with a sigh, frown forming on his once smiling face. 

Ophelia turned her head to see two more strangers, hoping this wasn’t a set up to another horrible night. Her fate being sealed after the gas station encounter, like some kind of twisted Final Destination plot she was living through. 

She backed up when the angry looking man spoke up. “Toby, what the hell did I tell you about bringing people here?” His sideburns blended into an unshaved face, thick eyebrows displaying his anger knit together above his dark eyes. Muscled arms folded sternly over his chest. He was built, bigger than Toby and his friend behind him. The skinnier of the two wore a tan hoodie, which must’ve been uncomfortable in the humidity. Searching all over his person for something, a cigarette hung loose on his lips. Neither of them even paid her any mind. 

“Y-You..You’re just jealous I-I made a ff-friend, dick.” Toby pouts, unphased by the man even being there. 

Ophelia assumed Toby was weird, so of course his friends were also weirdos who hung out in junkyards. 

“You got a light, Tim?” The indifferent stranger spoke up to interrupt them, looking up expectantly.

“You need to stop bringing people this far out. It’s a bad look, douche.” ‘Tim’ spat back, reaching in his pocket and handing a lighter over without breaking from the lecture. Toby seethed silently, “Wh-Whatever.” His glare deepened the closer the pair got. ‘Tim’ looked over to her finally with cold eyes. 

“You should know better than to follow a creep into the woods.” His words laced with venom said so casually, only to receive a light warning tap on his arm from behind. Ophelia didn’t know why she was getting lectured by a random guy. He was right, but was it his business to yell at her? He was also a creep in the woods. She was thankful when his tired-eyed friend pulled the invisible leash back, shaking his head when ‘Tim’ looked back. “Fu-Fuck y-you!” Toby burst out, rearing back and kicking a crushed can by his foot. The aluminum flies and loudly clangs in the distance. 

Toby’s head tweaked and his hand shot up to grab a cluster of brown curls, Ophelia felt like she was a bystander in something she couldn’t understand. All she could do was go to his side. “C’mon. Let’s go.” Her hand on his upper back, Toby relaxed almost instantly. Surprise on his face when he looked over, Ophelia just smiled and urged him again. “I don’t really want to hang out with a couple of assholes.” She shot a glare up at them while Toby released his hair. ‘Tim’ rolled his eyes, his much more tolerable friend smiled into his cigarette. Speaking in a whisper, something she couldn’t hear. He probably wasn’t that tolerable if he didn’t have the guts to say anything to her properly. 

“Y-Yeah. Th-They are assholes.” Toby took a breath, straightened up and flipped off the two. “Let’s- Let’s just go, Ophelia.” 

Their walk back through the forest was quieter than before. It felt easier, taking a detour path to avoid the ledge. Eventually she was more than happy to make it back to her busted car sitting in the early afternoon sun. 

Toby was back to his pouting, head low. “I-I’m sorry..” He finally spoke, but this was so much quieter. “I sh-shouldn’t haa-ave taken you there…” He’s picking at the fraying string on his glove fingers, unable to meet her eyes. 

“Well…I had fun..” While a terrifying experience, it was the first time in a long time that she’d gone anywhere with someone. Regardless of how they met, Ophelia assumed Toby just didn’t have many friends either. Toby looked up, pitiful eyes. “Y-You don’t have to l-lie..” His head jerked to the side, this time followed by an annoyed sigh. She shook her head, “Not lying. Those guys were being dicks and you’re not a creep.” Though he did odd things, and was generally off putting– Toby seemed too sweet to her. From their few interactions, it just felt like he needed better friends. 

“They-They’re not…a-always bad..Tim’s just…a jerk..” Toby laughed to himself at his own comment, breaking the depressing air.

“Ne-Next time we’ll ha-hang out where they won’t interrupt u-us.” He smiled softly. Ophelia wasn’t sure why they would interrupt them a second time, but she just brushed it off. He waved goodbye in her rearview mirror, and a wave of exhaustion hit her. Tired eyes looked back at her with each glance at her side mirrors. It felt like it had been years since she’d seen her front door, almost forgetting to lock it behind her on her way to collapsing on her sofa. Sometime during the ride home her headache returned with a vengeance. Taking two pain meds from the bottle that had been tucked in her pockets, she just wanted the intense pounding against her skull to stop. 

Ophelia curled into a ball, the pain practically turning her off for the day. Maybe a long walk without breakfast wasn’t the best idea, but she couldn’t help but think that Toby was a natural painkiller. She didn’t have to suffer when he was around. 

As she slipped into a pain-induced nap, she pictured a perfect world without a migraine.

The gas station was a little more sketchy than she thought, plywood was nailed to random parts of the dilapidated exterior. Illegible spray paint on top of the rain damaged wood, she tried to make some of it out. It looked like just stupid graffiti tags, circles and x’s. Nothing said ‘KEEP OUT’, so she made the choice to leave the safety of her car. Even if this was the premise of every horror movie she’d ever seen, there wasn't really any other option. Outside was quiet apart from the crickets that sang in the early summer air, a soft breeze messing with her pitch black hair, tossing her bangs around before it died down. She sighed, readjusting them on her walk inside. A large window showed her a perfect view inside to see a man sitting at the counter watching her. 

Lights flickered the moment the doorbell chimed, which was almost enough to make her turn around. The glass door shut behind her with a soft thud, the stale smell in the air hitting her after a second. 

“A bit late for you to be out, little lady.” The attendant spoke up from behind the register, leaning against the raised counter. A baseball cap pulled to shade his eyes, but it wasn’t hard to tell where he was looking when Ophelia approached him. “Well, when you run out of gas…” She offered back nervously. “Can- Can I just get 20?” Pulling her wallet from her back pocket, she uncovered the bills and held them out. Catching his grin down at her, if the smell of cigarettes wasn’t radiating from him then his yellowed teeth would’ve given him away. 

“You from out of town?” He asks as he totals the cash, taking his time to check the bills. Ophelia looks back out to her car under the fluttering spotlight at the pump, then back to the creep waiting for a response. “Yeah, my mom- she’s actually waiting for me at home.” She lies, her fake smile hiding her nerves as he hands over the receipt. He nods, a smile still lingering on his crooked face. “Well, you stay safe out there. Can’t have your mama waitin’ for too long.” 

Turning on her heel, she tries not to burst into a full spring outside and luckily keeps it to a speed walk back to the gas pump. Her heart was pounding out of her chest, even being outside felt worse after that interaction. Popping open the fuel door and slotting the pump in, she waited to hear the gas flow. Apparently moving too fast for the guy watching her the whole time. Ophelia almost felt less panicked after hearing the gas flow, until she noticed her one-person audience still giving his full attention. 

She really tried not to give him the attention he wanted, creeps thrived off stuff like that. Even she knew that. 

The paranoid freak inside her felt obligated to check over her shoulder. The guy inside kept his eyes on her from the window. His casual lean against the counter, just watching. She wasn’t sure what would make the situation better, maybe she was just overreacting? The guy just looked creepy, maybe he was really nice outside of the murder shack he worked at? Maybe he had a really thriving fantasy football team!

A quick look back to the window, was he closer? Now stood off the raised cash-wrap, he was basically right in front of the glass.

Ophelia looked back to the numbers rising slowly on the gas pump. Was this the slowest pump in the world? Would she die pumping her gas because of some perverted employee who liked the low cut graphic tee she wore? 

Another look. 

He was gone.

Cool.

“You’re fucking kidding me…” She bounced in her spot. Anxiety washed over her as she looked around. It wasn’t like she heard the door open, no sound of crunching gravel. Maybe he’d just walked off into the store, she tried to convince herself. Maybe he was actually doing his job? Or maybe he was grabbing the blunt object to bash her head in? 

Ophelia felt her fear spiral, consume, all in a matter of seconds.

"Y-you alone?" A voice breaks her train of thought. 

Clutching the gas pump tighter, she slowly turned her head to the stuttering voice behind her.

Her eyes wide as she stared at the stranger.

Average height, but still taller than her. Messy brown hair pinned down by a pair of orange goggles, which was a choice. Not that she was one to judge someone's choice in fashion. He stood just outside the warm light above her. It was harder to make him out, but she could still see the mask that covered his lower face. If the goggles weren’t already weird enough, the mask hugging his jaw was the cherry on top. 

“I’m..alone.” Not like she could lie when no one sat in her passenger seat.

Halfway to go on the pump, she turns back to face the new creep that’s chosen to harass her. “Mm..Most people drive right by this place.” His head jerks unnaturally, he holds his hands firm in his jacket pockets. “Whole lotta creeps out here at night, so you gotta watch out.” He nods to himself, adjusting on his feet like it’s normal to be having a conversation in the dark. She wasn’t even sure how to respond, this was the last place she wanted to be. 

“Y-You look nervous..” He pulled out his hands and raised them in defense of himself, “These woods are really weird to hang around a..after dark, a-and I just, well, I-I thought I’d check on you-” The dark haired stranger takes another step closer, Ophelia tenses. Stepping back one small step. “You- You said there’s a ‘whole lotta creeps’ around here, so..” She manages to get out, taking a closer look at him. Something hung off his belt loops, the top parts covered by his striped hoodie. A hammer? Mallet? He chokes out an obnoxiously loud laugh, the volume still muffled by its black mesh covering, bringing her back to reality. 

How did he even get here? She thought, checking the empty pump next to her.

The only car in the lot was hers and the challenger tucked in by the treeline. 

“Y-You’re right, I-I’m probably the last guy you want t-to talk with right nn-now.” Stammering is followed by a neck crack, a loud pop sounding like a gunshot. She flinches in response to the sudden noise. “Sorry-” He’s cut off by the god-sent click from the pump handle. Ophelia had never moved so fast. Slotting the spigot back into its holster, she screwed in the cap and closed the door. A quick look between the still-absent window and the lanky brunette masked freak, she offered a fake-polite smile. “Well, um…I should probably be going now. It was nice to meet you-” 

“It was?” He almost sounded surprised, seeing the hint of a smile in his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah! It was!” Her adrenaline was at its peak. Heart thrumming against her ribs, sweat even prickled at the back of her neck. 

Ophelia held onto her door handle, yanking it open and basically throwing herself in. “I-I, uh!” He stammers, now moving into the light. Standing right by the pump just before she could close the door safely. Highlighting the dark stains on his clothes under the harsh overhead.The keys in her hand itched to start the car and drive off, but she felt weird. Almost compelled to hear him out, and entertain the creep. “You..?” Ophelia offered in her impatience, after watching him fidget with his gloves for a minute. As if he was the nervous one. “I’m T-Toby. I jus-” He meets her eyes, she had no clue what emotion he was even showing. “Well- Well, I mean..T-Thanks for talking with me. Stay s-safe out there.” 

Ophelia nodded just to get out of the interaction, shutting the door and taking back off down the dark backroad. Toby in her rearview, just standing. 

Waving.

Pulling into her apartment building, she took an extra minute to look around the parking lot before running inside. Locking her car before she hit the stairs, the expected horn only made her move faster. Once inside she panted from the fear, leaning against the oak front door. At times like this she was thankful for the five separate indoor locks installed to her front door. 

Paranoia took hold, she couldn’t even feel comfortable till every window had been checked and covered. Every lock triple checked, all her closets and shadowed corners cautiously looked at. After taking a moment to calm down, she swore to never go back there. Never to drive down that dark road again. Never to pump gas at night. If she was lucky, to never think of Toby again. 

She curls into bed, pulling the blanket over her head. 

His arm squeezes and pulls you tighter against him. Lifting you up as he sits back on his knees. You’re held tight between his muscles, even leaning into the pressure. “Gghh–” You choke out through gritted teeth. “So tight…fuck…” Tim’s just trying not to cum the second your walls retract. A deep breath to steady himself as he starts to move. His free arm wrapped around your waist, hand placed so he could feel himself inside you. Your body tensed as flexed just before starting to move.

Slowly you bounced, a smile plastered on your face. “Aahh–Tii..Timmm…” You whisper out before he loosens his grasp just slightly. “Hmm..?” He hums as your back presses against his body. Skin to skin, he’d never felt closer. His arm flexes again, you gasp out. Tim can’t help smiling when you try to cry out only to be met with a strained mewl. 

“Drivin’ me crazy, doll..” His voice low in your ear, your body spasms with each word. “Think I might get used to shuttin’ you up— ugh..l-like this…” Your hands are holding onto his makeshift collar, nails digging into his skin. He’d swear later that you drew blood, but he wouldn’t hold in against you. Not when you were so cute. Teary eyed and biting down onto the crook of his elbow. It was enough for him to lean deeper into you, his thrusts getting sloppy as his grip finally released. 

Your brain is so fuzzy when you’re let go, you just fall into the mattress. Tim doesn’t think about your blissed out state, instead continuing to drive you further into the cotton sheets. Your body spasms with each thrust, each kiss against your cervix. Even he’s too fucked out to care about pulling out. He pulls out with a trail, watching himself leak out of your pussy.  Tim from that point on would be more willing to go along with your fantasies. All it really took to convince him was seeing just how cute you are when he gets to control you.

Your heart pounds when you hear the window slowly slide open. He’s trying to stay quiet when his head ducks into your dark room, the only light being the warmth for a lamp you always left on for his late night visits. His boots are muffled by your carpet as he turns to close the window. Even though you can’t see him, you can still picture his face exactly when he softly shakes your arm while you’re ‘fast asleep’. 

“Honey? You awake?” He nudges softly at your arm, taking his gloves off and setting them on your nightstand. A single digit moving to push a strand of hair out of your face. You wonder if the small trail of drool was too much? Then, a soft laugh through his nose as he settles on the side of the bed. You watch him through mostly closed eyes, pulling off his boots and shuffling off his jacket and the flannel under it. You’re back to ‘sleep’ when he stands to slip off his jeans. The bed creaks under his weight, the blanket pulling off your lower half and exposing his other surprise. 

Tim hums out in interest, pausing mid movement as he settles down between your perfectly positioned legs. Pausing again before deciding to touch you. 

It starts with a gentle push on your extended leg so he could get a better look at the wet strip forming on your cotton panties. Another pleased sigh can be heard when his thumb pulls at your plush. His free hand pulling the fabric to the side, you were practically soaked just thinking about what he’d do to you. The pad of his thumb brushing over your heat, the slick coating his finger. “Fuck..” He sighs, you’re just trying not to break under his attention. 

You know he’s watching you while stripping off your underwear, tossing them somewhere and resuming his work. Fingers tracing down your slit, circling your clit torturously before returning to its slow up-and-down path. It’s hard to act when his thick middle finger plunges into your aching pussy. A soft moan escaping you, gripping your pillow as he curls into you. 

“G’morning, baby..” His voice is rough as he watches you arch into his palm. Tim moves up, pushing another finger inside you with ease. His breath on your neck while supporting himself with his other hand. “You’re real cute, y’know?” Again, his knuckles curl as you tighten. “Waiting for me was hard? I bet my girl was tired, hmm?” Your head is spinning, and all you can muster is a soft mewl in response. 

He’s so weak when it comes to you. Even being away from you anymore just hurts, all he thinks of anymore is you. His clothed dick is pressing against your ass, pushing for any bit of friction to help his own issues. His breath caught in his throat when your half lidded eyes found him from over your shoulder.

“Tiiim…” You want him, and he can't help but give in. 

His fingers leave you without warning, but he’s too busy pulling his cock out to console your soft protests. “Just relax, I’ll take good care of you.” He’s on his knees again, flipping you over to face him. 

The pillow pulled away when his hands grabbed onto your hips to pull you closer. 

You’re dripping when he lines up his tip, a smile split on his face while he makes you wait. Slowly pushing in halfway, watching you grip at your (his) shirt under the torture of his speed. “Hurry…please?” You beg, but he just can’t stop teasing you. 

“I’m gonna take my time with this, like I said…relax..” His cock is kissing your cervix in one last push. Tim was big, splitting you in two with a simple thrust. “Ohh, fuck…you’re so tight..wonder if you were dreamin’ of this, hahh..” He’s still for a minute as he tries to bring himself back down to earth. You pulsate around him, squeezing with each spasm of pleasure. 

“I need t’move, I gotta…” Tim’s slurring just from the feeling of being enveloped in you. He pulls your calves up, knees together as he hugs your legs with one flexed arm. It was really just to make sure he didn’t collapse from the feeling of your needy cunt pulling him in. Each slow pull back ended in his hips snapping back into you, skin meeting skin with a near stinging force. For the sake of the previously mentioned neighbors, you try to keep the volume down, but Tim has zero regard for anyone else when you’re involved. 

He could only hold back for so long, and eventually the grip on your legs got tighter as he fucked you deeper. Faster thrusts, his groans an underline to the sounds coming from you. He couldn’t pick which to focus on, your needy cries or the wet slaps of your pussy meeting his base. “Tim, p-please…please don’t stop..” 

He’s not cruel to you, so he smiles down at you. His speed steady as the bed shakes from the force. You’d stretched perfectly just for him as he fucked you into the mattress. 

“What made you think I’d stop?” He laughs, pushing back the hair that fell in front of his eyes. “You’re so fucking wet, I don’t know if I can stop, fuck..” You’re such a mess under him, tightening up again the closer you get. “I-I’m almost-” Tim’s leaning onto your legs, each thrust getting shorter while he ruts into you. 

In between each grunt of effort he’s savoring your name, deeper and deeper he sinks. Your knees are near pressed to your chest with how he’s laying on you. His thrusts are sloppy, rough, it’d been a while since he’d had the pleasure of fucking you stupid. 

Your thighs press into your abdomen, applying enough pressure to guide you into release. Crying out his name, the crook of your elbow thrown over your eyes as he doesn’t stop. Tim doesn’t stop until he cums inside you, pulling out after three slow fucks into you. 

The room is quiet apart from the box fan in the corner and his attempts to catch his breath. 

His seed is spilling out, mixing with your own juices as it trickles down. Your legs fall limp. Spread open for him to see his masterpiece. Tim doesn’t really think much about it, he’s moving up to you. Sitting by your side before laying back next to you. Pulling you over onto him and holding you tight. A final sigh escapes him as you settle onto his chest. 

He’s rubbing slow circles with his thumb into your shoulder. You let the silence sink in before speaking up. 

“I was pretending to sleep, just so you know.” You murmur into his old white shirt.

He breathes out a laugh, “Could’a fooled me..” 

You try your best to help him, but you just can't fight the urge to grind against his growing erection. Even his breath is getting heavier the longer you're on him, and eventually working out is just an excuse to fuck you on the living room floor.

Leon's locked you in a kiss on his final sit-up, his legs moving under him so you're easier to position on your back. He lifts you up, pushing up into you with his dick. "Mm..ah…Leon.." He's smiling to himself as he's lowering you back and playing with the hemline of your shorts while he pins you into another kiss. 

"Thought..you were too busy working out.." You mutter when he breaks the kiss to pull off any fabric keeping him from you. Your lips blushed in a pout, wet and glistening in the lamp light. "This is my workout, baby." He grins before lining up his cock to you, pushing in so easily. You take him so well, it's like you'd been doing your own training just to fit him perfectly. 

"Ohh..fuck, babe…" He groans, letting out a deep breath. 

Leon's favorite feeling is bottoming out inside you, when his girth finally settles inside your pussy. The walls tightening and relaxing around him, it was enough to ruin him instantly. His arms almost give out, elbows shaking and his eyelids fluttering. He made a mental note to work on his stamina, you were far too tempting for him. 

He only starts moving when you give him the 'ok', your hand sweetly reaching out for him. Smiling as you daze out on his dick, his steady thrusts into you. Leaning back to watch himself fuck you, and watch you unravel beneath him. 

His hands grab onto your hips, giving himself more hold as he speeds up his pace. You watch his eyebrows knit, the sweat now forming on his forehead, and the ways his muscles flexed the harder he pounded in. 

Leon's rambling under her breath, "So..good..you're so fucking good for me..huh? Fuck…" His voice trembles, his hips stuttering before he's collapsing back on top of you. Holding around your waist and basically burying himself in your chest. The wet slap of his skin meeting yours. 

You can't stop yourself from cumming, nails digging into the carpet as if they were your bedsheets. Your shirt riding up, face flushed, and eyes locked onto your handsome Leon. 

It isn't much longer till he's finishing off onto your stomach. His fist jerking at his shaft for a few pumps, his breathing heavy as he's watching you under him. 

Leon's weak when it comes to you watching him, he'd do just about anything to keep you entertained.