angelꨄ︎

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12:00 AM

It flashed harshly on the display of your alarm. The red glow reflecting off wood. Turning for the fifteenth time since you had gotten under your sheets, you sighed.

Dragging a hand down your face in defeat, restless, you knew he’d call any minute now. The telltale ringing that only came after dusk had set. You should’ve been scared. Uneasy that a man you had never seen, whose face you didn't know, had not only found your number but also your address, and was persistent in his advances. He was just so… nice about it.

It felt like you were losing your mind.

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The calls started a year earlier, a couple of steps into your nighttime routine. Hair pulled out of your face and moisturizer in hand, before a buzz caught your attention. Your phone, vibrating on the nightstand. UNKNOWN-CALLER ID flickering across the screen, a spam call, obviously. Usually, you would’ve swiped to hang up, paying it no mind- but you were bored. Besides, what’s the harm in wasting the time of a scam artist, right?

Propping the phone on your shoulder as you pressed it to your ear, you spoke, “Hello?” Nothing, no eerie heavy breathing either, just the vague ambience of wind to keep you company. Maybe they were taking a late stroll and butt dialled you by accident, before you could even finish the thought, a voice echoed out. Cutting through the static,

“Hi.”

Raspier than you expected, if you were expecting anything at all.

“Sorry, I think you have the wrong number- hope you find who you’re looking for.” Okay, so it was a real guy, reaching up to cut the call and finish your skincare. He says something that stops you in your tracks. “Sound real sure there, how’d you know you ain’t the right one?” Now that was different, brow raised with a click of your tongue,

“Well, I’m sure I’m not expecting any calls tonight-“

“But you picked up, didn’t you?”

Whoever he was, he seemed certain he had reached his destination. Crickets loud in every pause of the conversation, and maybe you should have hung up, brushed it off as a man with nowhere to be. It was just that, every day was the same, going to work, coming back and passing out to do it all over again. When you were off, you ordered takeout, watching the same sitcom you had since you were a kid; this was new.

As stupid as it was, it felt exciting, even if just for a tiny bit. A stray encounter to tell your friends about, something to laugh at down the line, so you entertained it. And maybe that’s where you sealed your fate.

“Because you called me,” your weak attempt at defending yourself interrupted by a low chuckle. “You answer any call that shows up, or am I special?” The nerve on him, scooting onto the edge of your bed, you scoffed, legs crossed with the curl of your lip betraying your supposed irritation. “You flirt with every random number, or am I just special?” Quiet shuffling on the other side, along with what sounds like a stifled laugh, “Only when pretty ladies pick up.” Oh, you could hear the smirk in that one, “So it’s a hobby of yours to go on late-night strolls and hit on strangers?”

You leaned back against the plush comforter, toying with a piece of your hair like you were talking to a crush.

It was silly to be fair, and perhaps it wasn’t the smartest move to stay on the line, but honestly, he was kind of growing on you. The banter was light, his voice having that teasing lilt that you would read about; you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel at least a little special. “Hey now, have some faith, will ya? I got places to be, busy n’ all that.” And you’re sure he was, that didn’t mean you weren’t going to poke fun, though.

“Yeah? Doing what?” You had no idea what he even looked like, if he was handsome, if he was close to your age or even safe to be speaking to. A runaway prisoner getting his fun in before they chased him down, a bandit from the other side of town killing time by a pay phone.

Overactive imagination running wild, ’too many story books clouding that head of yours,’ as your mother would say. He hummed, the base of it crackling over harsh breeze, tone almost mocking,

“Guess.”

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It started with just talking, every Wednesday.

He’d call, and you’d answer, you’d ask questions, and he’d give vague responses depending on how “personal” he deemed them to be. Sometimes it was his favourite colour, ranging from how he liked his coffee to where he grew up. He told you his name was Brian, nothing more, nothing less. It felt like you knew everything about him, yet nothing at all; it was strange. You were never put off by it, though.

Until he started leaving you gifts.

Trinkets and snacks you craved that you had never told him about, showing up at your doorstep. You’d pressed him about it, futile as he’d always give you that same carefree response, “but it’s your favourite, ain’t it?” Or “Thought you’d like somethin’ like that, had to get it.” Like it wasn’t overtly concerning, he just happened to know exactly where you lived, like it wasn’t out of the norm that he seemed to know the things you liked without you ever bringing them up. But it felt normal, you talked to him all the time, for hours at that, he had this way about him.

Always saying the right things, voice smooth, calming, like perhaps you were just anxious for no reason. Overanalyzing things that didn’t really matter, he was your friend for god’s sake, you trusted him, didn’t you? Just running errands and stopping to think of you. Dropping by to give you a pick-me-up. I mean, was it truly that crazy to be thoughtful? You had never even seen him in person, face to face, that is.

You assumed he called from his phone; lately, however, he had started showing up across the street. An old, roughened phone booth, the glass foggy and smeared with graffiti and age. You were alarmed at first, a stranger, standing in the dead of night, pay station directly in front of your bedroom window, you could see it as clear as day. His worn-down yellow hoodie was pulled up, ski mask with an unsettling red frowny face painted on. Scuffed up jeans and boots to match. Your phone rang as he waved a gloved hand at you.

Now you were sitting here waiting for that same man. Conflicted as you were, you still looked forward to hearing his voice. The soft drawl to it when he spoke, deep and warm as it settled into your bones. He was comforting; you wanted to hate him, the calls sending chills down your back, a horror movie come to life. Yet it wasn’t, and you didn’t.

Dating was bleak, a small town where everybody knew everybody, and you were an outsider. Moved in for a fresh start, it was nice, of course; however, you never felt like you fit. Everyone had already set into their ways, a set path with set people, high school sweethearts or childhood friends who became something more. They all had belonging in one way or another, and none of it ever really fell into place for you.

But he was yours.

Something you had all to yourself. See, you had friends, and you never held it against them for prioritizing partners or loved ones they had known all their lives- even so, that didn’t make it any less lonely to live the way you did. This was different, no idea who he was technically, sure, but you could tell him anything. Talk about anything. Stay on the phone all night when things get hard, and he’d listen. Genuinely listen like you were the only person in the world who mattered. Bring up things you told him about months ago, small details that most people forget the second they turn around.

He knew you, and you’d like to think you knew him, too, the important parts anyway.

Thunder breaks your train of thought, loud and cruel. The force of it shuddered through your window and into the floorboards; it was storming. Seasons changing and weather turning harsh. The raindrops projected into silhouettes across your room, the only light source coming from the dim streets and the moon above.

You stood, pushing off the mattress with damp palms and pacing to the window. Your thin sleep shirt doing little to protect you from the cold, scanning the road until finally, you spot him. Brian. It was like clockwork, your phone ringing as you embarrassingly scrambled to grab it.

“Miss me?”

As cozy as you remembered, greeting you like he was happy to be standing in the pouring rain.

Giggling under your breath, “Never.” A lie he couldn’t help but laugh at, coming out hushed. Your worry for him trickling in the longer you stared outside, his clothes were no short of soaked, sagging off his frame, unbothered as he looked, the risk of getting sick hung heavy at the back of your mind. He leaned against the booth, arms crossed, holding up the wired phone to his ear. “Aren’t you cold?” The knitted mask covered his face, but even at a distance, you swore you could see the way his mouth twitched, “Never.” Spinning it back on you with a kick of his heel, you bet he was proud of that one.

“Well, you could… come inside, if you want?” Unsure, the second it left your mouth. You had never spoken to him in person, let alone invited him in, but it had to be freezing out there. The wind and unrelenting showers were a recipe for disaster. He paused, the shock obvious in his stance, disappearing as fast as it came. “Careful dolly, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sweet on me.”

Damn him and his smooth words.

Cocky in a way that radiated off of him, how annoying. Butterflies disguised as irritation settling in your gut, you snapped.

“Clearly, you don’t because your tough guy act is gonna have you bedridden, Brian.”

Your outburst stunned both you and him into silence, darting your eyes away from the glass like that would somehow erase his memory. An inhale, then a very, very amused exhale, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

With a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders, he cocked his head to the side. In true bastard fashion. Jaw hung open, your head whipping back to the window. “What do you mean by ‘okay’?” He’s borderline hunched over on himself, hand clamped over his mouth with laughter you can’t quite hear, audacity rippling with every movement.

The phone dropped by his hip before swinging it back up near his face. “I mean, I don’t want my pretty miss t’be mad at me,” straightening himself as he continued. “Holdin’ you to it, been wantin’ to see that face up close.” With that, the line cuts with a stutter.

You throw your phone onto the bed in a frenzy. What are you doing? The walk across the street was two minutes max, which meant he could be here any second now. You weren’t even wearing anything cute, and on top of that, what if he was an axe murderer? Images of your body in a ditch flash through your head. At least you went out doing something you chose to do.

The dull thud of knocking ends your spiral short. Peaking from behind the corner, you steady your breath. floorboards creaking as you walk down the hall, it’s now or never. The front door swung open, and there he was. Taller than you thought, broad-shouldered and gaze focused on you. He was intimidating to say the least.

“Thought you were a woman of your word, darlin’. Or do ya just like seein’ me beg?”

A quick shake of your head as you stepped to the side, heat crawling up your neck. “Right! Right- come in, sorry.” Nervous laughter bubbled out as you clicked the lock shut behind him. The water starts to puddle, hands sliding to rest in his pockets, “Cute place, it suits you.” Words slightly muffled, it was odd hearing him this close, as opposed to over a speaker. Not bad, just new.

Surprisingly enough, his mask had somehow managed to stay dry, hood catching the bulk of it. He wasn’t shivering in the slightest; in fact, he seemed perfectly comfortable lounging in your walkway fully drenched. “I have clean clothes that probably fit you, just um- stay here- or actually you can, uh..” The words fade into nothing; floor becoming more fascinating by the second. Your nerves appeared to spur him on, stepping closer until he was almost chest to chest. Leaning down, he tilted his head to the side, humming low in his throat. “Mhm?”

He was doing this on purpose; he had to be. Your face felt hot, hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, “You can stay in the living room, it’s down the hall. I’ll go get the stuff.” Mumbled as you awkwardly shuffled around him.

You could faintly hear him follow your instructions, racing off to your room before he could even respond.

Slamming the door shut (softly), you slid onto the ground. This was humiliating. You had known him for a full year, talked to the guy constantly, so why was this so scary? Not because you were scared of him, if anything, you liked him too much. And that was exactly the issue; sure, you kicked your feet on the phone from time to time, but now he was in your home. He was going to wear the clothes you gave him, and he was probably going to spend the night. You hadn’t even asked if he wanted to, did you even want him to? Well, yes, you did, eager yet fearful was the motto.

Thoughts running a mile a minute, you find a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized black t-shirt. The clothes bundled in your arms, and with newfound determination, you march your way back down the hall.

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The room was dim, your feet tucked under you while you tried not to stare. He just looked so domestic, lounging against the other side of the couch. Arm slung over the backrest of it, mask still secured over his face. He had changed and returned like he had done this a million times, you guys talking like you usually did (with more or less stuttering on your part), eventually settling on the sofa to unwind. The shirt you gave him may have been loose on you, but it looked like it was about to bust at the seams every time he moved.

Fabric pulled taut over his chest, hugging his biceps, he hadn’t bothered to tie the strings of the sweatpants either. Grey waistband sagging low on his hips, the peak of his boxers was driving you mad. You felt perverted; this was the first time you’d seen him this close, and you were thinking about him like a piece of meat.

“You mind?”

The confusion must have been clear on your face, snorting softly before readjusting, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Holding it up as an explanation, “Ah, no, it’s fine.” It was not fine. You hated people who smoked inside; it was like he had you under a spell, wanting to do just about anything to appease him. Hooking a thumb under his mask, he pulled it up above his nose. The glow from the candles you’d lit flickered across his jaw, faded scars scattered from his collar to his face. A jagged one right over his mouth. He was handsome.

Cig snatched between his teeth, lighter sparking as he inhaled. The smoke swirled in wisps; you couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel them. Trailing up and down your form, your thighs clenched together, body reacting before your mind could catch up. His head lolled back, the lines of his neck on full display, saliva pooled in your mouth. “You alright there, sugar? Lookin’ kinda tense.” It was effortless, reading you like a book. Fingers skimming through your pages the way a lover would.

He was toying with you, lips quirked up in a smirk that could kill, “Yeah, I’m- I’m good,” your response unconvincing as ever.

God, his voice, low and smooth. Southern drawl curling around the vowels like honeyed fog, rumbled in his chest when he spoke. The purr of it made you ache; it was so unfair.

You cleared your throat; it had been over an hour since he came in from the storm. However, you desperately needed to ease the tension before you made a fool of yourself. “I mean- if you’re not comfortable, I can grab you a sweater or something?” He huffed, smoke puffing out. Not sparing you any grace, he caught your wrist, tugging you near. The pull causes you to stumble over in a half-crawl to his side. Grip firm, he snaked your hand under his shirt, palm flat against skin. The toned ridges of his stomach had you almost choking, “’m warm, see? Right as rain, pinky swear.” Breath fanning your face, he smelled like nicotine and mint, temptation mixed all into one. Hold finally loosening on your arm as you dropped back into the sofa, gaze still fixated on him.

Stunned in place, mouth opening and closing again like a fish out of water. “But,” the word drawn out, slow with a click of his tongue, head turning towards you,

“If you keep undressin’ me with your eyes, I’m gonna catch a cold.”

Your breath hitched, tension so thick you could suffocate.

“C’mere.” His thighs spread wide, hand patting his lap, the cigarette stumped against the empty Coke can he’d been sipping on. Lazy grin stretching across his lips, “Don’t gotta be scared, s’just me.” Comforting with an edge, a predator coaxing prey straight into a bear trap. The metal teeth sank into your ankle before you could blink.

You crawled onto his lap, clinging to his shoulders to steady yourself. Nose nearly brushing his, you mapped out his features. Healed scrapes filled with stories he hadn’t told you, the dimples marking his cheeks, gave him a boyish charm you wouldn’t expect. His hands settled on your waist, thumbs tracing idle circles, “Nervous?” You swallowed, heat dragging up your spine in waves.

“I just, I really like you, and I’ve never- I don’t know, done this… before.”

Ducking your head to the side, looking everywhere but his face. The confession surging out in an anxious ramble, your filter failing to stop it. He cooed, “Aww, it’s okay. You like me, baby?” Murmured and soft, caressing up and down the curve of your hip. He reached to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, fingers tracing your jaw before tilting to meet your eye. “Use your words. Can’t be good t’you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, now can I?” His attention was overwhelming, making you jittery all over.

“I like you.” The pout on your lips had him feeling like a man starved. “Yeah? You want me?” Nodding, you clawed at the cotton of his shirt, needed it so bad you could cry, “Words, little lady.” His tone bordering on stern, “I- I do, I want it, I want you.” And he smiled like he won the fucking lottery, “Atta girl.” Hand burying in your hair, pulling you close.

The kiss was slow, firm and deep. Lips molding to yours, he squeezed your hip, wanted to eat you whole. Tongues entwined as he groaned, arms wrapping around his shoulders, grinding down, it was a portrait of desperation. You whined into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound. This wasn’t just making out; this was atonement, divinity in the form of lust.

Hands sliding down and palming your ass, rocking you back and forth. He breaks the kiss, a string of spit stretching between you. Faces flushed as you panted, “Let’s do this proper, yeah?” He hoists you up like nothing, legs wrapped around him on instinct, a blur of messy kisses and the slam of your bedroom door following.

Your back hits the mattress with a bounce. Arms bracing on either side of your head, “You don’t know what you fuckin’ do to me, dolly- feel like I’m losin’ my mind.” He’s weak, breathing you in, biting at your neck. Leaning back on his haunches, he gripped the collar of the shirt, pulling it off in one move. The sight of him made you drip, chest heaving as he knelt in front of you. Sculpted from cruelty and hardened work, scars littered his abdomen. Lips slick and bitten red, Brian was a vision fit for the ages.

He was on you in an instant, roughly tugging up your shirt before grunting like it pained him. “tryna’ kill me, is that it?” Braless, breasts spilling across your chest. Kissing down the valley of your ribs, he marked you up like you were his, ruining you for anyone else.

Slipping your shorts off your legs, you squirm, soft whimpers escaping. “I know, you need it real, real bad.” Chuckling under his breath, you were the cutest thing he had ever seen. Panties soaked through, his thumb circling your clit, sliding it down and pressing in. Hips jolting up, he was being so unfair. Playing with you like this, “You’re being mean.” The whine bubbling up your throat, tears starting to collect at your lash line. You couldn’t help it; it felt like you were burning from the inside out, and he was laughing at you.

“Oh, am I now? My poor crybaby, ain’t I jus’ the worst?” The grin on his face was anything but remorseful. Thankfully, he was nowhere near as composed as he seemed to be; mercy on you was mercy on himself. Shifting the lace to the side, he sank between your thighs.

You bloomed open beautifully, delicate and weeping like a spring daisy. He dragged his tongue up your slit, losing patience by the second. Drinking you in, nectar sweet on his pallette, liquid gold to a sinner. It was a mess. Sloppy as all hell, tongue fucking you deep like he’d die if he didn’t. Arching off the bed, you almost screamed. Your hands grasped wildly at the sheets, trying to ground yourself as he devoured you. His thumbs spreading you open, mumbling as he ate you. He pulled back just enough to spit on your sensitive cunt, legs twitching from the impact.

It was so much, too much, thighs shutting from the stimulation. The pleasure coiling in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter, clawing up your throat as your shoulders bowed. Finally snapping when he slips two digits into your heat, curling up just right. Pumping in slowly while you fell apart, “hah- I can’t, mmph-“ eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Pressing knuckle deep, letting you ride out your high before replacing his touch with his mouth. Lapping at your slick, he was making out with your pussy. You barely registered when he sat up, sight hazy with stars dotting behind your lids.

Jaw falling slack, the pads of his fingers pushing past your lips, “Did so well, my girl; I think you deserve a treat.” Tongue swirling around his digits, releasing them with a wet pop.

He reaches down, tapping your puffy clit like a button. Breathing out his nose when you squeak. “I’ll be damned, yer’ honeypots dripping somethin’ fierce, babydoll. That all for me?” The cadence sickeningly sweet, filling your head like molasses.

Vulnerable under him, yet that damn mask still covered his face. You felt exposed, needy as you tried grabbing at him, “Take it off, please-“ your voice is wobbly at best. Clinging to him with glassy eyes, he leaned in close, “Always so polite, hm?” You let your hands stray and wander, slowly nudging under the knitted fabric. Dragging over the bridge of his nose, freeing his ruffled hair when it fully slipped off. Little sun-kissed freckles dispersed across his skin, scattered like constellations. Blonde strands sticking up in every direction, pupils blown wide, your palms cradling his face.

Lips meeting in the middle, there was a shift in the air, softer, quieter, but real.

Dropping his hips to grind against your bare core, you could feel it, the throb of him. Pushing off you abruptly and forcibly shoving down the waistband, his boxers came with it. Cock springing out, sitting heavy between his thighs. Pre collected at the slit with a vein running down the underside, Adam’s apple bobbing in contained frustration. He pumped his wrist once, lining up and dragging it up your folds, tip catching on your hole. His brows furrowed, running his tongue along his teeth, “Fuck.” You were sopping wet, puddling under you and glistening. It coated his entire length. Your fingers sank into the plush of your ass, legs spreading even further. An invitation.

Presenting your welcoming cunt on a silver platter. Hips canting as he gave a shallow thrust, pushing in and out, fucking you with just the tip. “Please— please, please-“ The beg rolling off your tongue, you had never wanted anything more in your life.

Aching and empty, his cock sinking in inch by mouth-watering inch. “Shh, baby. You’ll get yours.” He snickered. The stretch was euphoric, hands bracing your thighs as he worked you open. Rocking back and forth, pressing to the hilt. He threw his head back with a satisfied groan, “S’fuckin’ tight, shit.” The squelch of your needy cunt ringing in your ears, slick dribbling down your ass. The sight of your connection was hypnotic. He wanted to be gentle, needed to be. But you were making that so goddamn difficult, pliant beneath him, perfect and plush. Just ripe enough to fucking eat. Brian wanted to break you, not roughly, rushed and brash, no.

He was going to take you apart, flood your veins like a drug. Shatter you like porcelain, before putting you back together, molding your cunt to his shape.

Claim you body, mind and soul.

Folding your legs to your chest, shallowly thrusting to ease you in, “Big stretch, jus’ like that, takin’ me so pretty darlin’.” The squeeze had him rambling, euphoria on wheels. Your pussy was embarrassingly loud, sticky plaps echoing through the room. “Hear that? She’s sweet talkin’ me, think she has a crush?” His taunt would’ve made you defensive if you could think properly, if you could think at all, that is.

He was so deep, skin on skin as you hiccuped. You were writhing against the comforter, pleasure sparking from head to toe. The only thing you could do was lie there and fucking take it, letting out punched ‘ah ah ah-’s every time his hips snapped into yours. Your orgasm hits you hard, vision going white, the pleasure acting as fireworks going off in your gut. Heartbeat loud in your ears.

He wasn’t far behind, your cunt squeezing down on him, vice hold while his thrusts lost rhythm. He pumped you full, spilling against your cervix. Moaning bordering on a whine, he sank his teeth into your neck, muffling the pitched sound. Your arms were about as heavy as lead, dizzy and panting, before he says something that has your eyes flying open. Hand wrapping around both your wrists, pinning you to the bed. “Don’t get all sleepy on me now, we’re just gettin’ started.”

The words leave his lips with a growl, slamming back into you with fervour. Headboard banging on the wall from the force. Your voice catches in your throat, and you could barely breathe. A flip had switched in his head. His only goal was to breed you, stuff you until it leaked out. He needed to fuck his cum into you so far you’d taste it tomorrow. “B-Brian- ngh- Brian,” you were drowning in it, his touch burned like a brand and healed like a salve. All encompassing, you could feel him everywhere. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He rasped into your shoulder, dick dragging against your G-spot, hitting bull’s-eye.

He was pounding your cunt like it owed him money. You tugged wildly in his hold, sheer strength holding you down, hand dipping past your thighs to circle your clit. Thumb tracing the letters B-R-I-A-N, the combined pressure of him bullying his cock into your walls, sending you over the edge. Not letting up, he pulls off of you, flipping you over. Face shoved into the pillows, ass up and trembling. Your peak stuttering before he’s thrusting back in, hips grinding against your ass and balls deep.

He’s fucking you mean, pummelling into you over and over and over, with a bruising grip on your waist that you’re sure will leave marks. Using you like a toy, watching your wet cunt stretch around him, he felt fucking high. Your pussy was drooling onto the sheets, sticking to your thighs and dripping. “You want it? Say it then, tell me you fuckin’ love it dolly.” Eyes crossed as you slobbered against the cushion, “Want it— wan’ it suh-so bad.” Pace growing harsh, his abs tensing from the exertion, “Yeah? Then thank me. Thank me for fucking you.” You struggled to form a coherent thought, his rhythm making you weak.

Unfortunately for you, hesitation was not something he tolerated.

“You think anyone else could make you feel this good?-“ sliding his grasp from your waist to press you down, thumb digging into your spine, pushing you into an almost painful arch. “You’re mine, you hear me?” He yanked you up by the hair, back flush to his chest. With an arm wrapped around your throat, the bulging muscle choking you as he snarls. “You let any other bastard touch you like this and I’ll blow his brains across that fuckin’ wall.”

The threat made you gush. He confirmed everything you were suspicious of, worried about, but you couldn’t stop. Brian was dangerous, yet his attention was intoxicating. A buzz you couldn’t get enough of. He had you cock drunk, hooked on it like an addict. “I- ah- ‘m yours, all yours.” Babbling, your hand reaching behind to drive him deeper, the other helplessly clawing at his bicep. Nails leaving pale scratches in their wake, his gruff chuckle making you shiver, “All mine, huh? Oh, honey, you promise?” Voice laced with condescension and sugar.

His palm smooths down your front, pressing on your stomach. “Feel that? I’m right here.” You cum with his name on your tongue like a prayer, clamping down on him while you cried out. Thrusting once, twice, more before his hips stutter, filling you to the brim with a low groan.

Legs giving out as you both collapse, careful not to crush you under his weight. “Fuckin’ christ.” He dropped his head on your shoulder, the reality of it finally setting in. His hair was a mess, sweat beading down his arms from where he held you, “You alright? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” The switch in tone gave you whiplash.

For a man who was just threatening to kill your hypothetical lovers, he sure was soft in the aftermath. He peered at you from the crook of your neck, blushed, and eyes half lidded. “Mm, no, it was good, I liked it.” You sigh, sinking further into the post glow. The laugh he gives warms you, hushed and sappy, pecking your nape with a hum. The air was heavy with the scent of bodies and lust, rolling off of you with a grunt, he tugs you to his chest. “We should get up,” voice of reason as stable as the shake of your legs, it’s the thought that counts, though. “Yeah, we should.” The two of you not making a single move, as the heat and desperation faded, you could really see him.

Maybe you should’ve taken the chance to run for the hills while his guard was down, but how could you when he was looking at you like that?

His gaze flickered across your face, from your nose to your lips, memorizing the lines of your features. He stared at you like he wanted to save the view for a later date, when he was buried in blood and responsibility.

A keepsake for a rainy day.

“What?” You liked to tease, and you supposed he did too with the way he huffed in response. “What? I can’t appreciate my lady?” How rude of him to melt you like this. “Your lady? Since when?” A sharp retort that had him grinning, nose scrunched in a way that made your heart flutter, tooth gap peaking out. Crooked and fond, he made you feel so incredibly safe. “Since yesterday, haven’t ya heard?”

The lovesick giggle bubbling up your throat before you could stop it, “Yesterday? And you didn’t tell me?” Now that earned you a snort, “Yes ma’am, and I’ll be sure to have it in writin’ next time.”

It was stupid, the pillow talk and banter. Dangerous or not, he was the best smooth talker you’d ever met, and you’d be damned if you let him slip through your fingers.

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You had fallen asleep like that, tucked into his side, arm thrown over his chest. The bed was still warm when you awoke, but the man himself was nowhere to be seen. Rushing out of your room, nearly tripping over yourself, you realized he had cleaned you up. Rounding the corner into your kitchen, your heart heavy, before something catches your eye— a note.

“Got called into work, you looked too cozy to wake up, sorry darlin.

P.S. Left my jacket on your couch, take care of it for me, will ya?”

Scribbled with unmistakable handwriting, you had to laugh. So there it was, the start of your new routine. He still rang you, of course, except now that call was always followed up by a knock at your door. And Brian was still as mysterious as always, coming and going as he pleased, but it worked. You waited and he’d call, you’d answer, and he’d knock. Like clockwork.

Just you and your midnight lover.

➽──────────────❥

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Another man at the passenger side, dirty blonde, with a scar running from his lip to his brow. A boy to your right, his face covered in bandages.

He greets you excitedly, tittering. “Hey, y-you’re out here pretty l-late, huh?” His stutter restarted his words like a scratched record, and you smiled politely. “Yeah, I was supposed to see this guy, but y’know.”

He grinned at that, wide, sharp. “They’ll do that to you- Toby, by the way.” His hand extended out, and you met him there. His palm felt heavily calloused, matching the scars littering his knuckles.

You told him your name, and he hummed. He said he liked it, that it ‘suits you’. It’s almost flirty, but you couldn’t tell. The seat leather sticks to your thighs in the summer heat, street lights flashing by quickly.

As the ride drags on, every time you thought that you had a read on Toby, he’d say something that throws you off. Yet he appears nice enough. Brian, as you’d come to find out, chimed in five minutes later.

“Where ya’ headed?”

Right.

“I’m not too far from here. Barter Drive- Just a little into town.” You responded, fidgeting with your thumbs. The air in the truck is a little stale- dingy, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Hunters came and went all the time, and they looked like the type.

Toby scooted closer and closer with each passing minute. Your legs were nearly touching when you finally looked up.

He was barely a couple of inches from your face, and the backseat suddenly felt cramped. “I like your s-shirt.” His raspy murmur warmed your cheeks. “Thank you, I like your, uh, sweater.”

You swallowed while he snickered. “Thanks,” Throwing his arm over the headrest, Toby cocked his head to the side, glancing at the dashboard.

“The GPS says you’re a whole t-thirty minutes away. It’s already almost one in the m-morning.”

He spoke lazily, like he knew something you didn’t. As if a decision had already been made long before you opened your mouth. “Well, if it’s too much trouble, you guys could leave me on the edge of town. I can walk the rest of the way.”

He tensed his jaw slightly, shrugging. “Mm. We’re staying at a cabin near t-the lake. It’s closer. Why don’t you spend the night? Tim can drop you off early.” A jarring offer that had you simpering nervously. “Oh, I couldn’t. It’s your space, and you don’t really know me-” However, you were cut short by a grunt from the driver's seat.

“It’s no problem. ‘Sides, we’re right up ahead, and we got a spare bedroom. You’ll be fine.” He didn’t even give you the time to respond, the truck turning off the main road and onto a path between the shrubbery.

The wheels ground against the gravel, the vehicle jolting until it slowed to a stop. Through the window, you could spot a sign in front of the car. “Dead End Road.”

The trail went past their cabin slightly, cutting off abruptly at the trees' border. The house itself sat in the middle of the small clearing. Built from scuffed wood, with a single porch light hanging above the door. Something about the seclusion, the sign that stood out amongst the vast oak, had your gut uneasy.

A warning.

You inhaled shallowly, then Toby hooked an arm around your neck. “Let’s go, c’mon.” Too cheery, he tugged you out of the backseat, dragging you to the porch while your feet scrambled to catch up. The other two followed suit, and you were standing in the foyer in less than five minutes.

“It’s nice in here.” Trying your best to be cordial, you set your shoes on the mat as they did the same. “Well, it ain’t much, but it does what it’s supposed to,” Tim said, nodding at you. Toby then ushered you to walk, and you made your way down the hall. Upon entering the living room, you met eyes with Brian, the man already settled on a lounge chair.

The fireplace crackled, and you waved at him, unsure of how to proceed. “Hi.” His lips twitched up at that, an almost smile when you locked eyes. “Hey.” Toby rested his palm on your lower back, intimate in a way you didn’t expect. His hand pushed you deeper into the room, and he brought you over to the couch, dropping down next to you.

Tim had slumped into a recliner to your left, your seats circling the hearth. His lighter sparked once, twice, before he inhaled, the cigarette burning faintly. “You want somethin’ to drink?” You shook your head, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Where’s the spare room? I think I’m gonna’ turn in-” Brian piped up, interrupting you.

“The night's young, ain’t it?”

Even without looking around, you could feel their eyes boring into you. Like starved wolves waiting for prey to take the bait. “You’re s-so tense,” Toby’s hand was too warm on your thigh, and he closed the proximity by a fraction, nose almost brushing yours when you faced him. “Breathe, jeez.” He sniggered, his pupils flicking down to your lips.

Your heart beat loudly in your ears, body frozen by the atmosphere. Borderline claustrophobic. “Sorry.” You mumbled, having his grin stretch. In that moment, your dead phone came to mind, the evident lack of outside communication enveloping you. “Don’t apologize. We’re just t-talking, nothing s-serious.” His voice had muted to a whisper, then he leaned forward.

Your mouths slotted together, and you scrambled to grip his shoulders. The force of the kiss knocked you onto your back, his frame effectively pinning you down. He wasted no time, with his hips beginning to grind as you struggled for air.

Saliva breached in strings between your lips when he withdrew. “You’re so pretty, y’know that? It makes it h-hard to hold back.” Your eyes were wide, breath coming in short puffs. “I- I thought-” You stuttered, and Tim shoved off his chair, coming into view while you swallowed dryly. His cigarette had been stubbed out into an ashtray, and he crouched.

“I know you’re pent up, s’alright. You jus’ need a little push.” He grasped your chin, forcing your head to the side. His tongue invaded your mouth in a blink, exploring the cavern hungrily. Messy, as your teeth clicked, and you felt Toby start to nibble down your throat. Drifting lower until he slinked off the sofa, his knees thudding against the carpet.

Your jeans were unbuckled, his fingers moving fast- you jerked, making Tim recline. He ran his tongue over his canines. “Relax. It’ll feel good, promise.” Dread, fear and a violating excitement licked up your spine. These were not good men, disgustingly scummy at best, and dangerous at worst. Yet your thighs twitched at the base of his words anyway.

The shorts were towed down your legs, getting tossed onto the floor before Toby mouthed at your clothed cunt. The heat of his tongue had you gasping, and Tim hooked a finger at your shirt’s edge. It was yanked up, exposing your chest. “No bra? I’m startin’ to think you were planning for this.” He snickered, groping the plush.

With Toby humming against your core, Tim began to leave hickeys across your breasts- you arched involuntarily. “Wait, please.” The pleasure came crashing through your body, principal and self-preservation clashing with the wetness building inside your panties. Toby was lapping at you through the cotton, his tongue prodding between your folds, nose nudging your clit.

Your hips started moving on their own, bucking against his face as you whined. He parted from you, licking his lips. “Masky- s-she’s soaked, man. I didn’t even do anything yet.” He chuckled. Yanking you towards him while Tim swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud. Mouth on one, his hand toying with the other.

“Sensitive, ain’t you?” He drawled, giving you one last nip, then rising to his feet. You trembled, Toby devouring you whole when your eyes finally focused on Tim. His buckle clinked, belt hanging loose. You watched him tug at his zipper before his boxer band was pulled down. Hefty, pre-cum beading at the tip of his cock, with a vein along the underside.

He propped a knee behind your head, guiding himself to your lips. “Open up, girl.” He rasped, and your jaw fell slack, salt coating your palate. He rocked inside slowly, lids drooping as he groaned. The sound had you clenching on nothing, and Toby pushed your ruined underwear to the side.

His mouth was so wet. Licking up your spillage, the slick dribbling down his chin. Your eyes rolled up, moaning lewdly around Tim’s length, and he buried his fingers in your hair. Sinking deeper, with the tip grazing the back of your throat. You scratched at the cushions, hands balled by your sides. “Look at you- just fuckin’ askin’ for it.” He scoffed, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.

His grip became harsh, and he hauled you flush against his pelvis. Thrusting his cock balls deep while you gagged. “Chokin’ on me like I’m your man. Where’s yer’ shame, yeah?” He huffed, watching the tears stream down your cheeks. “You ain’t too bad on the eyes, though. Prettiest whore I ever seen.” You writhed in his hold.

The coil in your gut curled taut, building and building- your thighs clamped around Toby’s ears. Your cunt was pulsing wildly, overwhelmed by his tongue. “Mm- fuck.” He groaned into your mound, gulping like it’d kill him if he let your cum go to waste. His fingers dug into your hips, grinding you onto his mouth.

Your legs were shaking when Tim grunted, spilling down your throat hotly. He slid himself past your lips with a low whistle, satisfied. Toby wiped his chin clumsily, crawling onto you as the other man stepped back. However, he was halted by Tim calling out to him. “Rogers, the hell I tell you?” He pouted at that, begrudgingly pushing away from you.

“But I prepped h-her-” He was silenced by Tim’s cold glare, gritting his teeth while he slouched into the armrest. “Can I use her mouth then?” He said, glancing at you, and Tim gave him a curt nod.

Shifting your limp body upright, then hoisting you onto his lap. His cock nudged between the folds of your pussy, lining up the tip with your entrance.

Your head was spinning. Their hands felt wrong on you, but your body was betraying you. Your thighs were sticky, and the mewl that left you when he sank you down on his girth didn’t help your case. You were being stretched beyond your limits, skin dewy with sweat. His cock had fit snug inside you, and it curved to press on your sweet spot hard enough to make your eyes cross. “Ah-”

Toby had shuffled in front of you, jeans already shoved below his ass as he pumped his cock. “Y-you want it, right?” He loomed over you, petting your cheek with an unsteady hand. “Say it. You w-want me-” His careful nature seemed to wane the longer it took for you to respond- ignoring the fact that he was talking a mile a minute.

His once-gentle touch turned abrasive, and he yanked your head back, his grip tangled in your hair. “Say you f-fucking want me.” He snarled, his eyes swimming with a violent desperation. When you nodded frantically, his grasp softened a bit, Toby laughing as if he was drunk. Pupils blown wide. “Yeah- yeah, okay. ‘Cause y-you’re really special, and I don’t wanna’ make you s-sad.”

His pre-cum smeared against your lips while he angled his cock head, filling your throat in one thrust. You hiccuped pathetically at the intrusion, and he cradled your face, rolling his hips forward. “Oh, shit. Ngh- you’re so perfect. Feels s’good- fuck.” You didn’t even have the time to adjust, because Tim started bouncing you a second later.

His cock was thumping up into your cervix, arms hooked under your knees as leverage. Stuffed from both ends, with Toby fucking your mouth, and Tim slamming into your cunt. Your brain was melting.

You could barely keep your eyes open, vision blurry while you blinked. Your gaze drifted past Toby, and the sight had you whining. Brian was slumped against the loveseat, boxers towed off just enough for him to stroke himself. At first glance, he appeared unaffected, but if you looked closer, you’d see it.

The flush in his cheeks, the heave of his chest. His brows were fighting to knot together as he stared, with his eyes half-lidded. Something about being watched with such fervour made you shiver, and Tim’s head pitched back.

You were squeezing down on him like a vice, your little noises having him twitch inside you. He reached up, dragging his hand over your chest and kneading the fat of your tits.

“Fuckin’ made for this, yeah? Gettin’ off to being used by motherfuckers you ain’t know-” He rolled his neck to the left before burying his nose into your shoulder.

“You wanted to act like you hated it, huh? Cry like you ain’t beggin’ for it- fuckin’ slut.” Mocking, his hips drove into you harder, pounding into you with abandon.

You clenched around him, and he cooed, licking a stripe up your neck. “I know, baby. I’ll fill you up- hah- real good.” The squelch of your pussy was embarrassingly loud, your arousal drenching his thighs.

Toby collapsed into you, catching himself with a palm against the couch’s headrest. He held your head firmly in place, his length pumping in and out of your throat. He was panting, drooling like a dog. You felt so fucking good, he couldn’t think. “Ah- shit, please.” His base smacked against your chin, slobber mixing with semi-opaque white.

He came with a breathy grunt, hips jolting- before he quickly tugged himself free. Jacking off onto your face, painting your skin with thick ropes. The gluey substance dripped down your features, milk pooling on your tongue as you presented your mouth. Too far gone, and he giggled, manic. “You’re s-such a good girl, y’know that?” Mashing his lips to yours, cum swirling with his own spit while the other man flooded your tunnel.

“Shit. You’re makin’ me wanna’ keep you.” Tim drawled, taking a moment to catch his breath. he pulled you off of him, letting you slump into the sofa, boneless. Once his words actually registered, the alarm in your gaze made him chuckle.

“Oh, honey- don’t tell me you thought you were still goin’ home.”

Your blood ran cold when he nodded at Brian. “Have at ‘er.” The man stood after the quick acknowledgment, padding over to you, half-tucked back into his boxers. If you’d been more observant, more cautious or weary, you would’ve noticed the holster attached to the back of his belt.

The distinct click of a pistol's safety rang out as Toby sat down to your right, and he kneeled in front of you.

Holding up the weapon, he cocked his head to the side. “You know what this is?” Panic spread from the end of your legs up to your skull. Your mouth faltered, gaping at him until he hummed, monotone. “You scared?” Your body refused to respond, and he lowered the gun, tapping your bare stomach twice with the barrel. “You should be.”

The hairs on your nape rose while he got to his feet. He trailed the cold steel along your collar, stopping at your lips. The harshness of the barrel left goose bumps in its wake, lethal, unhallowed. “Suck.” You swallowed thickly, tears collecting at your lashline. You leaned forward, quivering when you took the metal into your mouth.

The taste coated your tongue bitterly, like grit and unsanctioned barbarity. Adrenaline kept you upright, the only thing holding you back from hyperventilating.

You wish you ran. You wish you had toughed it out till morning, finding a payphone to call a friend. But you didn’t, and you hadn’t.

You bobbed your head slightly, gurgling around the pistol when he forced it deeper. In your periphery, you saw the blur of his hand, and you flinched—

A pet.

He was petting your hair. Smoothing down the strays, his thumb rubbing back and forth. The shock made you freeze, but he was swift to remind you. “Go on.” Not yelling. Not barking demands. Because he didn’t need to.

His calm demeanour was terrifying, too calculating- like he could snap at any moment. As if your fate could be altered at a second's notice, your life sitting in the palm of his hand.

Brian’s inhales grew heavy, dragging his tongue across his teeth. His touch descended from the top of your head to your nape, resting the gun’s grip where his buckle would be as he began rocking his hips. “See? That ain’t so bad.” He murmured, grunting under his breath. He was grinding his bulge against the pistol, the muted pleasure rolling up his frame.

You were scared, fearing your end, your sanity hanging by a thread. Every muscle in your body was screaming, winding tight- before a debased want sparked at your core. Small flickers of ember, matches being struck onto the brick. They scraped and scraped until a flame burst into the dark.

The repetition of the gun thumping into the back of your throat had your mind hazy. Lulling you achingly slow, your shoulders drooped, and you let out a faint whine. But it was enough.

Tim took a drag of the freshly lit cigarette, peering at you. “Well, I’ll be damned, she likes it.” He sniggered, and Brian clicked his tongue. “Course she does. Bet she’s been dreamin’ ‘bout this for years.” Mean as he removed the metal from your mouth, he threw the weapon onto the couch haphazardly. “Jesus, you’re a fucking whore.” His lip curled up into a sneer like he was disappointed.

“On your feet.” He said, eyes cold- you urged your legs to move. Yet your reaction came too late, and his arm shot out, fingers clamping around your windpipe.

He hauled you upwards, your limbs flailing to steady yourself. “When I speak, you listen, and you listen good. Understand?” You clawed at his wrist weakly, whimpering like a hit animal. Your lungs were burning.

He scoffed at your pitiful strength and released you after a beat, spinning you to face the sofa. Your legs buckled when he shoved you forward, wrestling your body to arch. Your knees were spread on the cushion, with your hands finding purchase on the couch top. Quiet rustling, then a calloused palm at your waist-

Brian speared you onto his cock to the hilt, and you wailed.

He didn’t ease you into it; there was no buildup or warning. With his length bullying in and out of your over-sensitive cunt, he fucked you fast and rough. “I can’t- too much, please- please.” He grunted at that, spitting onto your pussy from the back. “Dogs don’t talk.” His hips snapped against you even harder, cruel—

You didn’t mean to.

It wasn’t your fault. Your thighs were barely able to hold your weight, but in the heat of it, your foot jerked. Kicking him with enough power to make the man stagger a tad. He paused instantly, and your heart sank at his next words. “Bad girl.”

You were yanked to his chest, his bicep locking around your neck. He started pounding into your walls, bruising your poor insides as punishment. “Mm- haah- p-please. Didn’t mean it- didn’t-” Your pleas fell on deaf ears, and slick poured down your trembling legs. From the angle he had you in, his tip kept knocking into a spot that had your pupils rolling up.

It felt like you were being ripped in half, bred like a toy with no other purpose. The lack of air was making your vision dot with black, and Toby grinned, watching while he pumped himself. His hand extended, pressing down on the bulge that protruded every time Hoodie would thrust. “You’re s-suh-so pretty like this.” You think your skull was going to explode.

Drool was leaking from the corners of your mouth, jaw slack. Moans punching up your throat by force, “Ah- ah- oh-” You scratched at his bicep, squirming pathetically. He huffed and loosened his hold. Barring an arm around your chest instead, condensing your breasts, his fingers digging into your skin. His breath was feverish against your ear.

“At least pretend you hate me.” He panted, taunting you while driving deeper into your pussy. “Lettin’ us spread your legs, didn’t even have to ask.” The fabric of his sweater was tacky on your back, coarse as he chuckled. “Shit, yer’ makin’ a fucking mess on me- you gonna’ cum?” Your moans scratched your throat raw, and you bucked into him.

Tim clenched his jaw in thought, then he laughed, snatching the pistol. “Don’t worry, hun. We’ll take care of you real nice.” The barrel was pressed to your clit, making you jerk. “No- ngh.” The contrast in temperatures was euphoric, cool metal against your sweltering cunt.

You were toeing the ledge, on the brink, when your shoulders bowed— before Brian stilled behind you.

You squirmed on him, twitching, and he reclined. Stopping you from falling with a fistful of your hair, as he gave your ass a stinging spank. “If you wanna’ cum, you’re gonna’ work for it-”

Rasping, he set his palm on the curve of your spine, pushing you to arch. “Grind.” His voice had dropped an octave, and the baritone had you dripping.

It was mortifying, but you couldn’t help the sway of your hips. With each rut, the steel slid between your folds, pussy split open on his cock. Embarrassment flooded you, your face aflame while your whines heightened in pitch.

Back and forth, back and forth, your orgasm simmering while you shook. Too much and too little all at once.“Please- please, wanna’ cum- please.” You begged, the woven fabric of the sofa sullied beneath you.

Brian gritted his teeth. You were throbbing around him, cunt pulsing. He could fucking hear how wet you are, the sticky squelching echoing through the room every time your ass pressed onto him. He dug his grasp firmer into your waist, the dull pain fuelling your pleasure. Wires had crossed in your head, and you moaned, wanton and needy.

He was staving off his own peak, biting down on his lip to stifle his groan. His patience had withered to nothing, and he sharply hauled your hips back. Cockhead forced against your cervix, stuffing you to the brink. Not fucking you, with the only stimulation being from the stretch and the tainted metal of the weapon. You were too full, so full it hurt— the ecstasy crashed into you mercilessly. “Brian.”

Your head spun, and your view phased in and out, white at the edges. He acted before he could think it through. Perhaps it was your blatant desperation, the way you breathed his name like a prayer. Either way, you felt a stern hand on your jaw.

Jerking your face to the side, his lips molding over yours. His tongue invaded your mouth, sweeping your teeth, consuming you entirely.

He was corrupting your mind, his touch both desecrating and reverent. You whined, and he drank in the sound. Spurting inside you, then releasing you with a messy smack. “Christ.” He exhaled, his length slipping out of your pussy. Brian’s spend leaked from your sopping hole, and his thumb pried you wide when he hummed in approval.

Tim gave your clit a final tap. Tugging the pistol out of the way just in time, your body crumbling onto the chair, beyond exhausted. The surface stuck to your sweat-slicked skin, and you were uncomfortably sticky from head to toe. Yet, just as your lids began to close, a flash went off behind you. It made the last of your adrenaline surge to the front. “W-wait-” Arms like lead, you peeked over your shoulder.

His unfeeling smirk told you everything, camera in hand, and the scent of smoke wafted into the air before Tim spoke. “We ain’t the type to keep souvenirs. You should be honoured.”

Toby snickered at the man's praise. “Told you, y-you were s-special.” He peeled you off the sofa, propping you against his chest, with your thighs straddling his own.

“It’s my turn, pretty. You can’t p-pass out yet, okay?” You didn’t have the energy to reply if you wanted to, limbs useless by now. All you could do was moan quietly as he sank you down onto his cock. “Fuck, you’re s-so warm.” He groaned into your ear, anchoring his palms under your ass to bounce you. Your arms hung limp by your sides, Toby fucking up into your puffy cunt.

Your clit kept bumping into his base, and the sparse hair of his happy trail ground against your sensitive skin. Even through Toby’s sweater, you could feel the ridges of roped muscle. Strength nurtured by gruelling labour and nothing else.

The perspiration had dampened his face, his bandages lifting at the corners. Another thrust, another jerk of his head- and the patch peeled off.

A gnarled, ragged scar tugged at the skin on his cheek, revealing his gums. It looked like it had healed and reopened over and over again, his teeth exposed at the deepest part of the gouge. You think there’s something wrong with you. A festering infection that you’d ignored, only revealing itself now.

You pulled yourself from his shoulder and leaned in as he eased his rhythm, confused. “What-?” Then your tongue ran over his unconcealed teeth. You were licking his fucking scar. He screeched a laugh, yanking you back by the hair.

“You’re f-fucking sick.” Toby smashed your lips together no more than a second after, pelvis slapping against your mound.

Tim chuckled in disbelief, nodding at Brian. “Look at that- we should’ve grabbed her sooner.” He extended the gun loosely, and the other man agreed with a grunt, snagging the grip from his hand. “I’m surprised she made it this far with a head that empty.” He stepped to you, trailing the barrel up your spine while you rode Toby’s cock.

It felt too good- you couldn’t stop. The veins on his girth dragged in and out of your tunnel, catching on the ridges and making you drool. Fucked dumb on it and high off the friction. Brian huffed, sneering.

“Humpin’ him like an addict. I bet you can’t even fuckin’ hear me.” He said, using the top of the pistol to lug your head back, the metal pressed against your throat. “Open.” An order that you obeyed swiftly, tongue stuck out. He spat onto your palette, clamping a palm over your mouth, and watching you swallow without a fight. He scoffed.

Swapping the weapon with his hand, your windpipe was snug in his grip before he raised the gun to your temple. “You got five minutes to finish him off, or I’m pullin’ the trigger.” The gun was rammed so hard against your skull that it burned, aching from the shooting pain. You slammed your hips down fervently and hiccuped.

Your nervous system was at war with itself, your mind sending out alerts. Blaring sirens, and going comatose from fear, while your body struggled to keep up with the agonizing pleasure. You sobbed, panting as Toby threw his head back, eyes scrunched shut. “Shit- fuck- fuckfuck—” He arched, writhing under you, and Tim whistled to your side, jeering. “I’m startin’ to like you, baby. You ain’t wanna’ break my heart, do ya’?”

Your cunt felt raw, the nonstop usage having hot tears stream down your cheeks. They’d been so rough, and your inner thighs hurt, bruises already forming. Your orgasm seized you painfully, your arousal squirting onto Toby’s stomach as he keened, brows knotted up. He tensed completely, then sagged into the cushions, chest heaving.

The pistol slid from your head when you collapsed into him.

Spittle mixed with snot and salt had your face a mess, and you snivelled, nearly hyperventilating. You were sore all over, head heavier than cement, your muscles screaming from overexertion. You were so tired.

Your ears were stuffed with cotton, but you could still make out Tim’s voice, the faint shuffling as he moved closer. His hand brushed the hair out of your eyes, and you sniffled, hiccuping loudly.

Yet even through your bleary vision, his worry was laid bare.

“Come back to me, sugar- c’mon.”

Toby adjusted you carefully while Brian rushed to grab water and hot towels. “You’re okay. We g-got you.” He muttered, smoothing his palm down your back. Tim pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. “It’s done, you did so well. So, so good, you hear me?”

Softly, he cradled your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth. “You’re alright, just breathe for me, hun.” Your inhales finally began to slow, and Brian rounded the couch.

Walking to the front of the chair, he stood with one knee settled between you and Tim to steady his weight. “Heya,’ dolly.” He whispered, cautious not to shock your system further. The bottle was brought to your lips, and you gulped down the water. The liquid cooled you swiftly, making you nuzzle into Toby’s arms once you were satisfied.

Brian’s hands rested on your arms when he pitched forward, littering your features in feather-light pecks.

He withdrew after a minute and towed the coffee table towards himself. Taking a seat, then supplying Toby with the clean rags as Tim laced his fingers with yours. Your tremors still hadn’t ceased, and he frowned.

“Can you tell me where you are?” Tim mumbled, holding your knuckles to his chest. The warmth of his hand, along with Toby's body, had you fighting sleep, slurring. “At home…” He hummed at that, sighing in relief.

They’d been wary when you’d initially brought it up, but you said you were sure. It’s not like you hadn’t done roleplay in the past- it’s just that this was going the extra mile. You wished to go all in, setting up a whole scenario for it. You had debated storylines the night prior and decided on the hitchhiker trope.

You would be stranded, alone and vulnerable- picked up by three strangers in a truck. They would take you back to an “unfamiliar cabin” to have their way with you.

Cliche’, yet you’d been excited. And one very, very long conversation about safewords later, you took a bus to a decently far gas station. Walking back for authenticity, according to you. You didn’t talk to them for the full twenty-four hours leading up to it and everything.

Still, the concern remained present. The last thing they wanted was to actually scare you, and this would be a heavy role to partake in. The fear of pushing you too far, being too rough or hurting you had been circling their minds the entire night. Always waiting an extra second after an act, just in case you needed a break or to stop the scene entirely.

Tim kissed your bare shoulder. “You know who we are?” Some would say it was dumb, but he didn’t care. Facts would ground you- reminders would ensure your comedown was stable. He needed you to know you were safe.

You swallowed, blinking at him lazily. “My boys.” He smiled, nodding, pupils dilated while he gave your palm a squeeze. “Mhm.” Toby finished wiping the grime from your back, pecking your crown. “How are you feeling, angel?” He cast the towel aside and snatched a fresh one from a bowl filled with warm water. “Sleepy.” Brian chuckled at your dazed expression, hushed.

“S’been a long night, hm?” He rose, redoing his buckle halfway. “Let’s get you cleaned up, darlin’. Yer’ gonna’ catch a cold like this.” Tim followed suit, and Toby shuffled to stand, hoisting you upwards. With your legs wrapped around his waist, the four of you made your way upstairs.

The bath was heavenly for your sore joints, and you breathed out, content. Tim and Toby had taken the standing shower, with you and Brian cuddled in the tub after a quick rinse.

You scooped the sudds in your hands, reclining into his chest. “You are a very convincing actor, Bri Bri.” He laughed, one arm resting at your hip, the other thrown over the porcelain ledge.

“Mm- nearly broke character when you flinched. I felt like a fuckin’ bastard.”

“Yeah, but that’s the point! You were all ‘grrr, obey me or else- you whore.’ It was crazy.”

He cringed at the memory. “Lord, that sounds awful out loud. You sure you liked it?” The water sloshed a bit, your feet wiggling, and you giggled. Peering at him. “Yes. And I thought you were very sexy. What if you wore your masks next time?” He shot you a look, squinting at you. “Dolly, I think you have a thing, and we should talk about it.” You jutted out your bottom lip. “But you could chase me through the woods—”

“Absolutely not.”

Tim had shoved his head out from the shower door, the glass fogged with steam. “The forest is dangerous. You could trip- what if you hurt yourself, huh? And there are animals and bugs, and I’m not defiling you on the dirt while you cry. It ain’t right.”

His hair was foamed with soap, and Toby swiped at the condensation, creating a little window to look through. “It’s t-too risky, muffin. You could fall or s-something.” You huffed, defensive. “I’m not even that clumsy.”

“It ain’t about bein’ clumsy, it’s principle.”

“Tim.”

“Uh uh. It’s in the house where it’s safe, or it’s not happenin’. Yer’ lucky we even agreed to that lil’ gun thing.”

You groaned, sagging against Brian as you pouted. “It was empty!” He snickered from behind you, and Tim narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t start with me, girl.” He closed the door, the attitude radiating off him when Toby snorted.

“I know you wanna’, but it’s dangerous out there- and what if EJ s-sees? He’s super strict about that s-stuff. He’d kill all of us before we could explain.” His explanation had you raising a brow, and you leaned your cheek onto Brian’s bicep.

“Really?”

“Yeah- Jack’s moral compass is s-strong. Like. Strong.”

“I thought he just ate people?”

“Angel, if I told him I called you a whore with no context, he’d punch m-me into a wall—”

— ^ ^ —

“Yeah. No.”

You huffed quietly. “What do you mean no?” His lack of attention was jarring, your lover not even bothering to look away from the pistol.

“Dolly, they’re gonna’ close soon, and I know you’re hungry.” He grunted, and you squinted at him. “Stop avoiding the subject.” A pause, then the steel clinked against the table top, his focus finally locked in on you. “The subject is dinner.” His words were blunt, authority hidden in the fine print.

You shrunk slightly, your ears suddenly hot. “But I want to break up.” His lips twitched up just barely at that- like he found this fun.

“No, you want takeout-“

Brian rose to his feet, rounding the island. “And dessert, and kissing on my lap like you always do.” He said quietly, walking over in lazy strides. You reclined further, glancing at the floor. “… But what if I didn’t.” Nearly inaudible, you mumbled as he stood in front of you. Hands behind his back and cocky.

“You’re tellin’ me, you ain’t wanna’ see me no more?”

He tilted his head to the side, eyes sharp. “No more pillow talk. No feelin’ up on me the way you like, not even a squeeze to my arm-“ He leaned in, placing his hands on either side of your body, and trapping you against the counter.

You swallowed, finally giving in as his nose brushed your cheek. The whine you let out was involuntary when his baritone rumbled next to your ear. “Just straight nothin’?” You pouted, palm flat against his chest. “Brian…”

He chuckled at your lacklustre defiance, head dipping to mouth at your neck. “I mean, if you wanna’ split- I’m all for it, honey.” Taunting.

His knee nudged between your thighs, denim snug against your core. He rocked into you just a little. Just enough to have you wanting.

Hoodie brought his hand to the hem of your sleep shorts, toying with the edge, before trailing up. He smoothed his knuckles over your hip, your waist, then stomach.

Touching to touch while his thigh grinds onto your clit, he nips at your throat. Hickeys already forming.

“Say you’ll miss me” He murmured, leaving wet kisses along your skin. You mewled, needy. You should’ve known that he’d flip this on you.

He tensed his thigh, making the hardened muscle slant firmly against your cunt. Your gasp had him snickering. “You’ll think about me, won’t you?” You whimpered, pawing at his shoulders. He had become too skilled, knowing all your weak spots by heart.

Brian dragged kisses from your collar to your jaw, pecking the corner of your mouth. His lips fit to yours, tongue slipping past your teeth. He wrapped his palm around your windpipe, the squeeze making you moan into him.

He withdrew once your head started spinning, and he bounced you lightly, fingers digging into the fat of your ass.

“Cause I’ll think about you. Think about all the noises you make.“ He drawled, moving your hips for you. “How pretty you look under me-” It felt too good, his voice sending shivers up your spine as you arched.

“How nobody’s gonna’ fuck you the way I can.” He laughed, mocking. Cadence low, with your cunt throbbing. You were so close, your lips parting in ecstasy. “Right, dolly?”

His rasp burned like melted sugar, and you clawed at his bicep. Panting, on the brink—

Brian pushed off of you abruptly, quirking a brow at your distraught expression. “What? I thought we were breaking up- since you’re unhappy an’ all.” He shrugged, spinning around.

His whistle faded into the distance, your boyfriend hopping up the stairs two steps at a time. Completely content with leaving you frustrated and disheveled.