#whateverrrrrr

what about toby holding your hips down with one hand to keep you from squirming, his grip getting tighter - nails biting into your skin when your hips buck from the sensation of the cold metal sliding through your folds

“y-you really gonna let me d-do this?” he sounds almost giddy when he asks that - that sick, sadistic side of him preening at just the thought alone. of how much danger he’s holding right in his hand. how much risk. “aren’t y-you scared? I cuh-could kill you.”

“you won’t.” but you don’t sound all too sure, your voice wavering, brows punching together when the tip of the barrel nudges against your cunt - just barely pressing in, but enough to have you hissing through your teeth.

“I won’t.” Toby chuckles softly, his voice a low croon - mocking in its nature. doing absolutely nothing to quell the nerves making your chest feel tight. “You s-sure? Puttin’ a lot of t-trust in me here.” A little more pressure from his wrist, and the barrel slides deeper, making your eyes widen and your legs instinctively kick. it’s cold, hard - foreign - your body knows in an instant that it doesn’t belong there, alarm bells blaring in your mind, begging you to push him off. you ignore them. “Me.” He snickers. “Killed m-more people than I can even f-fuckin’ count,”

your walls flutter around the intrusion, a whine tumbling from your lungs as your fingers fist into the sheets beneath you. a bead of sweat rolls down your temple, you barely even register it over the feeling of your heart slamming against your rib cage. “And that’s the g-guy you’re choosin’ to fit a pistol snug in th-this pretty cunt?” He clicks his tongue, chastising you with a cruel grin as he presses the barrel in deeper - as far as he can get it - as his pointer finger slips onto the trigger. “K-Kinda stu-stupid of you.” a slow thrust makes your gut clench, your cheeks heating in a mixture of shame and arousal.

your bottom lip wobbles as one of your hands flies downwards, trembling fingers curling around his wrist as your teeth grit. you’re not quite sure what the game plan was. to stop him? even if so, your palms are too sweat slick to even get a good grip on him - and if you really wanted him to stop, you would’ve said so by now.

you’re just scared. and god, is it a beautiful sight.

it’s impossible for him not to push you further, not when each nervous whimper you let out sends a wave of heat straight down to the bulge in his jeans.

“Scared of me, baby?” slowly, he rocks the barrel of the pistol into you with shallow thrusts, revelling in the way your face scrunches up with each of his movements. “Scared I’m g-gonna shoot a bullet straight through this pretty b-body?”

he sees the flicker of unbridled panic flicker in your eyes, cutting through the headiness of your arousal like a knife. his grin only stretches wider.

“T-Toby-“

“Aw, d-don’t worry, baby.” he murmurs softly. “Safety’s on.”

the soft click the rings through the air after his words makes your heart stop in your chest, all the air leaving your lungs as your teary eyes hone in on the wickedly amused smile on his face - his dark eyes glinting with something dangerous.