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studiopeached · 2 months

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THREE, TWO, RUN. ft. Peter Dunbar

♡ SUMMARY: After fleeing from your boyfriend, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it.

♡ CONTENT WARNINGS: pwp, afab, fem!reader, ex-boyfriend!peter x reader, peter being a serial killer, moderate description of gore, NONCON/DUBCON, fingering, oral (fem receiving), big dick peter—not great prep, p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking kink, fear play, predator/prey dynamics, size kink, bondage

♡ WORD COUNT: 2.4k plot, 1.9k smut. 4.3k total

♡ STREAM NOTE: SMUT BELOW THE SECOND NSFW BANNER. this is a spin off from my @peachedtvs blog called 'Til Death Dont We Part'

♡ MASTERLIST. cumming soon! Main blog @peachedtv

Peter felt you were quite silly, even from when his eyes first laid upon you through the windows of your diner.

So silly, in so many ways.

You were silly in the way you spoke. Expressive, lively, words filled with kindness and rhythm. Words Peter wanted to lock away for only him to hear. Your voice always melted into his mind like honey. Soothing, calming, just like the music he’d hum to silently as he got rid of your recent obstacles. A heavy saw in his hand slashing back and forth, splitting bone into two before stuffing remains of human flesh into a black tarpe—or when he'd bring the nuisances back alive. Screams of pain, terror, and torment vastly contrasting a smooth melody muffled through his earbuds.

Your smile was silly too. Loud, boisterous laughs pairing with it each time as you’d close your eyes tightly, breaths jagged as you’d brace your stomach from the joy. Your smile so mesmerizing Peter wanted nothing more to lock it away behind a key. To melt away in the melody of your laughter, to spread it across his lips and adorn the smile as sweetly as you do.

What was even sillier was how silly you made him feel. On the surface, the twist in his stomach was sweet. An admiration, an appreciation of something so pure. Although,

Peter always fell apart.

Even in the room of his own heart.

Every silly thing had something inside of him twist. A strange twist, a bubbling feeling that had his gut wrench around itself—curling around and laying discomfort deep into his heart, where it stood mockingly. Unable to be buried beneath other thoughts, placed behind distractions, or replaced with another. And this bothered him.

Peter was always in control.

Control of his job, control of his victims, the police, his therapy, the growing police patrols in your city. So why couldn’t he control this?

What were you doing to him?

He thought it was uncomfortable at first. But that strange feeling was quite addicting, stacking tenfolds in intensity ever since the first time he felt it with you.

“Are you okay?”

By now, this memory had occurred over 3 years ago.

The first day you two had met, Peter was not in a good mental space. His family was in ruins, the relationship between he and his mother deteriorating until he had finally decided to storm out of the house and leave for good. Leave his home for good.

With nowhere to go, and a rumbling stomach, Peter decided the best course of action was to first fuel his appetite. Damn Diner was loud, painstakingly so. There was a mess of voices, the clash of plates, cutlery, dragging of chairs against tilted floors, chaos that hummed against a muffled out melody of tunes through the ceiling speakers. Everything was so loud. There was a child in the booth next to his. A mess of ketchup and mustard spraying everywhere, a glob falling onto his cheek as his eyebrows knit together in annoyance. There was a couple in the booth across, arguing over the cries of their child whining for a crumb of their attention. There was yelling from the kitchen, scolding as a worker had done something wrong and sent an order to the incorrect table.

And then, there was you.

Timidly, you rushed over to his table. Clumsy and expressive as you stared down to him with empathy, apologizing profusely as you explained the mess around the diner. And there, all the loudness stopped. Your voice muffled, muffled until it became strikingly clear and the diner around him seem to slow. Peter's eyes traced your face, how you were out of breath, how kindly you looked to him, how you asked if he was okay. And in this world of distain, you were pure.

And there was the first twist.

Peter spent nights going crazy.

Absolutely insane.

When he had first broken into your apartment, his heavy steps drowned out by the moans of your roommate through the paper thin walls, he thought he would melt into the floor when he first inhaled the scent of you room.

It was a soft aroma, something that had his eyes rolling into the back of his skull when he saw you laying peacefully on the bed. Your head was smushed between a folded pillow, covering your ears as your face was scrunched in discomfort.

"Lucy's being so loud tonight, isn't she, Darling?" Peter spoke softly, the back of his hand gracing your cheek as he sat on the edge of your bed. Careful to dip your mattress slowly so as to not wake you. Carefully, his other hand trailed up the curve of your torso, hip to waist, before entangling with your fingers.

Your hand felt right in his.

Soft, smooth, and warm against his cold skin. And there, he knew even fate was in his hands the moment he had yours in his.

When Peter had mustered up the courage to approach you in the park, he felt his heart beating out his chest, his mind going hazy from everything he wanted to do to you—from hearing your voice up close again. It had been nearly a year since you two had first met at the diner, and it seemed as though you had forgotten him completely. Luckily, Peter knew enough about you through his year of...supervision, and was soon able to swipe you off your feet. There, he became yours.

Your boyfriend.

And you, his girlfriend.

Often the two of you shared late nights after your dates. The hum of cicadas drumming into the background as you'd lay into the grass of the park the two of you 'first' met in. Your hands would intertwine together as the other would hold the grass below. In this park, the two of you would often talk about your dreams, aspirations, or talk shit about whatever seemed to bother you in your life at the moment. And Peter always listened.

In other moments, the two of you enjoyed each other's company. A silence paired with the ambience of howling wind, crickets, and a glint in your eye from the reflection of the moonlight and stars twinkling above. And through this silence, your heart spilled.

“I want to be with you forever, Peter." You spoke softly, you eyes still stuck on the starlight above.

A twist, something twisted once more.

For the first time, Peter eyes looked away from you—a blush traveling to his cheeks, a pale red hue over his soft features.

“Forever, then, Darling."

And forever meant forever.

Years together flew by, and you both had your own jobs—despite Peter's insistence for you to stay at home and allow him to care for you. Although, you wanted to work. You wanted to experience the world. But what you didn’t want were the unreasonable hours of overtime your boss had subjected to you. Much to Peter's dismay, many late afternoons he would return to an empty home. Full of furniture, light, decoration, but never with the person he truly wished the presence of. Every evening, you would trail home hours after him. Enervated, dragging your feet along the floorboards as you slumped into his open arms.

“I missed you, Peter.”

Your voice was like honey.

“I missed you more, Darling.” Peter greeted you softly. There it was again. Something twisted. Peter looked down to your visage. Dark eyebags staining your soft skin, a pout dragging your lips, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sighed from exhaustion. His gut was twisting stranger than usual. A mix of annoyance for those who have exploited you, an annoyance that made his stomach curl inside.

Peter did not want you to continue working.

Your boss had gone missing for a couple days now.

The company was in disarray, having strangely lost employee after employee ever since you were recruited. The once bustling, lively atmosphere became quiet, dull, and empty. And with the new loss of your employer, there wasn’t an office cubicle you could return to. For the first time in months, you returned home before Peter.

Although, something felt off.

With Peter home, it was always lively. The ambiance of bustling trees against the wind outside, a hum of the dishwasher from the kitchen, a low vibrato of your home's ventilation system, and the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. He was such a soothing soul. Without him, the home felt strange. You felt the presence of another, many, an overbearing amount. As though invisible strings clumped together to weigh you heavier into the floor boards, creaking the dark oak louder than usual.

Without Peter, it felt as though something was calling for you—and curiously, you began to explore. Exploring the home you resided in, as this home empty of your lover didn’t feel like a home anymore. And that lead you to the door that stood at the far end of the first floor. Tucked beside the laundry room, you stood still and seemed confused.

Was there always a lock?

A sturdy lock it was. Heavy metal weighing it flush against the wood, holding the door firmly shut to keep everything in out. There was a strange smell, too. A scent that leaked from beneath the dark oak doorway, filling the air with a musk of cooper and spoiled eggs. Your hand reached for the lock, flinching when built up static pricked your skin. A warning. But you held firm. Giving a cautious, downward tug as the lock went slack. It was open. You pushed the door back slowly, a low creak humming your presence, a flood of a strange meat stinging the view in your eyes.

Firmly, a familiar hand held your shoulder.

The hand of your boyfriend.

You were terrified.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

You couldn’t think.

Not with the view of mangled flesh, the smell of copper and iron so strong your head began to haze strangely. No, you couldn’t think. Even more so with scattered limbs decorating the floor—being the remainder of the morbidly intact heads of your former colleges and employer, of your missing boss. Pieces of them did not fit like a puzzle. Limbs, skin, so much of their bodies were missing.

What was that dinner Peter served these passing evenings?

And it seemed as though fate enjoyed sparking your memory.

This time around, nearly three years later, it was not scatttered corpses, blood, or flies that greeted you. You stood before the door of the fourth apartment complex you were going to apply to. Advertised as a gated community of safety, an exorbitant lot you were willing to hack up the money for to get away from him.

Although, just as three years ago, just as you were able to arrive to the complex, nails dug into your shoulder, holding you in place. A voice low, strange, and terrifyingly familiar. The grip dug into your flesh this time, keeping you from running—just as you did in the home you shared with him. With a door you shouldn’t have opened, and a hand on your shoulder that felt larger than usual.

Your boyfriend's hand.

“I missed you, my Darling.”

You didn't know what was happening.

You scrambled fruitlessly, trying to shove Peter's hand off your shoulder when a burning wet rag was drowned upon your lower face. You kicked, muffled screams and sobs as you dug into the palm that pinched the bridge of your nose, your body growing increasingly more limp. You didn't know what was happening, but by the next moment, it seemed as though you were melting into the floor—the world around you sputtering and glitching as your vision faded out and back in as you fell back onto a large bed.

You couldn't recognize the monster that was before you.

You didn't want to recognize the monster that was before you. Although, a rough, large hand gripped the lower half of your face, covering your mouth and pinning you down into the plush duvet to muffle horrified screams, forcing you to look deep into a being empty of a soul.

Even back then, you always felt Peter’s deep eyes had an errie glint. They seemed dull, strange, and detached from any wonder or interest. All until his gaze would flit upon you. A spark of light dashing his iris, a soft smile spreading his lips. He only looked human when he looked at you.

Peter still kept that smile. A smile that had morphed after his descent into maddness. Sharp teeth and bloodshot eyes that contrasted against sharp blues. He looked terrifying. His forearms were scattered with scars and wounds, peeled back scabs across his skin—likely from the amount of struggling you had done while in his arms. Your name was etched into his skin. Over and over and over, hearts and sharp lines littered as keloids formed in the place of his artwork. His size dwarfed you, a wolf to rabbit. Predator to prey.

“Pe—“

"You remember the time when you'd say it back, don't you, Darling?" He leaned down by your neck, breathing in shakily as though he couldn't believe you were finally here. With him. All to himself. "When you would say you missed me too." His voice was disfigured. A mix of insanity and dark undertone to his speech making your head spin and eyes well with tears. Your entire body was trembling, the skin on your back burning as every nerve in your brain set off sirens that resonated throughout your head. You felt too fearful to even choke out a pathetic sob, wanting to blend into the sheets below you.

Meanwhile, Peter felt himself going crazy. He couldn't help the way his mind ran a mile a minute as he stared down at your dicheviled form. You were always so pretty, absurdly so. Even as the strands of your hair fell misplaced over your face, even as you looked up to him with so much fear, hatred, and terror, his stomach twisted just as it did three years ago. That strange feeling laying addiction down into the lining of his stomach, soothing his body that felt run dry of how you made him feel.

He needed you. Now.

Peter brought a hand to his lips, hastily removing his right glove as he bit the fabric covering the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off by his teeth. His free hand pinned you pliantly down into the mattress by the lower half of your face, the other sliding beneath your shirt to tear the fabric off your body. You thrashed, muffled sobs and tears running down your cheeks, wetting the palm of his hand.

Your terror only fueled him further.

His hands groped and fondled every inch of your skin that one could imagine, a long tongue pairing with his touch as Peter licked a long stripe up your neck—sucking deep blotches and bruises of dark blue and purple hues across your neck and chest. Peter marked you as his, bit your flesh like a meal, and ruined your soft skin for his pleasure.

The mattress beneath you was in shambles. Inch deep tears lay by your head as Peter held back the urge to squeeze you blue, from ripping into your flesh, the torn mattress a goreish display of holding back the brutal cuteness aggression Peter got from the sight of you.

His hand slid from your mouth, gripping your neck tightly to restrict precious air from flooding your throat. He wanted you ditzy anyway. Nothing but a lifeless shell of who you were once he was done.

Pilant.

Obidient.

And what better way than halfway choking you out?

Your hands held his wrist desparately, nails scratching into his skin as he only smiled wider in response, stitches appearing on the corners of his mouth to prevent his face from ripping in two from his pure display of euphoria.

You hadn't stopped crying this entire time. Desparate pleas falling on deaf ears as you begged Peter that this was enough, that you'd listen, that you'd stay. And as convincing as it seemed, Peter was not giving you another chance to escape him. Not again.

His hand trailed down until it cupped your clothed cunt. Nothing on your body remaining besides your panties. A gift, perhaps—the best for last. Peter pushed your panties to the side, experimentally swirling the pad of his thumb onto your clit, causing you to wretch out a struggled moan.

"P-Peter—!" He only smiled in response.

"You've always been so sensitive, huh? It seems you haven't changed at all." His thumb pressed harder onto your cunt, rubbing your clit side to side as the palm of his hand pressed firmly down upon your womb. He watched you fall apart with glee, sliding his other hands between your thighs and gently nudging a finger inside of you. You threw your headback into the sheets, grabbing the duvet desperately, your hips trembling as you felt your sanity waste away to the pleasure wracked into your body.

You always fell apart so prettily.

Your hand shakily reached out to Peter, your lips quivering as a second finger curled into your cunt—the heel of his hand hitting the underside of your puffy clit as he kept toying with the bud. It burned, terribly so. Considering how much larger his stature was to yours, how much larger his finger would be to your own, it was a miracle you weren’t ripped in half yet. Although, it sure felt as though you were.

Peter stretched you out relentlessly, scissoring inside of you before curling the pads of his fingers plush against your g-spot. You arched your back desperately, crying out as your hips stuttered in response. And Peter kept prying there. His fingers pounding into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over and over until you felt as though you'd die from the overstimulation. As you reached out to Peter, he pulled a length of manila rope from his back pocket—grabbing your wrists before tying your hands together and in front of your chest as through you were praying—and perhaps you were. Praying to Peter to slow down, to be more gentle.

A third finger was nudged deep inside of you, pairing with the speed of his thumb on your clit increasing. His fingers pounded into you feverishly, sounds of your arousal soaking your inner thighs and his forearm—dirtying the sleeve of his pinstriped coat. You couldn't concentrate, no longer resisting against the firm hold his shadows had upon your wrists. No longer holding back your sweet moans.

A burning desire began to pool in your gut.

"Peter, p-please—"

A hand gripped your throat.

"P-Peter, please— I'm gonna cu—m!" He smiled to you. You were always so easy to please.

"Cum then, dear." His fingers sped up their speed inside your cunt, recklessly pounding and curling into you, bruising your g-spot painfully as you sobbed out, clenching your pussy around his cock as you squirt onto him. Peter smiled, leaning down to suck your clit and swirl his tongue around the bud as your mouth opened silently. Your hips struggled away, and yet his shoulders spread your knees firmly, the underside of your thighs thrown over them. Peter continued to bully your pussy past your orgasm, sucking and licking your clit as his fingers continued to curl and pound into you to ride out your high. You were crying endlessly. Begging him to stop, that it was enough. And yet, he didn't pull out his hand until you were merely twitching and whimpering in his bed. Broken.

"Have you lost yourself in the pleasure, Darling?" Peter was manic. Your pleasure felt like a high he couldn't describe. The way your fingers clenched around him, he felt as though it was a sign. A sign that all your struggling was only to encourage him to fight against you, a sign that you were only pretending to be scared.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Your eyes widened open when you felt the tip of his cock slide between your folds, Peter having removed his clothing now too. You struggled, trying to sit up when his hand once again held your throat warningly, choking you lightly against the mattress—gently enough that you could take slow, shallow breaths.

"Peter, it's not gonna fi—!" Your mouth fell open silently as Peter suddenly shoved the head of his cock inside of you. Your pool of arousal allowing him to slide in with just a minor amount of resistance—minor to his strength at least.

Meanwhile, your eyes blew wide as you whimpered out desperately, struggling against the binds on your wrists as your cunt stretched around him. He was big, painfully so. And you were thankful he decided to slide the remaining of his length in slowly, inch by inch. And yet, even when he was just halfway, you felt as though he was already plush against your cervix.

"Is she resisting, hmm? I guess I can be a little rough, you were always into that, anyways." Before you could understand what Peter meant, he slammed the remaining half of his length deep inside of you as you screamed out, your hands curling tight fists as your nails dug deep crescents into your palms.

Before you knew it, Peter pulled out to the tip, and slammed right back into you. His pace was unwavering. A hand gripped on your neck, the other pressing you into the mattress by a palm against your womb as he split you on his cock. Peter pounded into you, skin against skin as you soaked his cock, splashing your arousal onto his pelvis and lower stomach. He was big, too big. Tears streamed down your face, and Peter only wiped them with his thumb before licking it into his mouth. He wanted to taste your fear.

He wanted to rip you apart.

Your chest heaved as his thumb came down to your clit once more, roughly pressing onto you before swirling it harshly. You arched your back, clawing at the wrist on your throat as you moaned, crying around his cock when the underside of it would press into your g-spot, when the head of it would slam so deep against your cervix you felt he might fuck himself into your womb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a hand gripping the torn sheets below you as you cried out when your pussy clentched around him.

"Please, please, can I c-cum—" You sobbed, looking down to where you and Peter where connected, seeing your cunt stretched impossibly wide for your ex-boyfriend's cock.

"Don't you dare."

"Please, Baby."

Fuck.

You drove him fucking crazy.

Peter swore he could’ve cum on the spot from hearing you finally call him baby once more, the name you neglected from him. The only name you should be calling him. Peter laughed.

"You truly know me so well, Darling." Peter's pace increased. His cock pounding into you hard enough to have your tits bouncing and the frame of the bed on the verge of giving out—your cunt clentching onto his fat cock even more.

"You can cum in three seconds." You nodded stupidly, too desparate to think.

Peter pulled back to the tip, slamming back inside.

"Three," His palm pressed into your womb, feeling the buldge of his dick against his hand, his cock dragging against your velvety walls. You swore you were going to die if you couldn't cum soon, Peter's counting teasingly slow as he fucked into you like a fleshlight. Like a pet.

"Two." Your pussy fluttered against him, Peter's fingers swirling your clit viciously.

"One," You whined, sliding your hands to his upper back as you raked down his skin.

"Please, please, please, let me cum." You were going crazy.

"Cum." You threw your head back, near screaming his name like a mantra as you clencthed around him, squirting for the second time that night as his cock continued to pound deep inside of you. Peter let go of your throat, his hands sliding beneath the underside of your thighs to push your knees into your chest—fucking you meanly in a harsh mating press as he refused to slow down. You felt like your soul was going to fall out your body, your pussy spasming as Peter continued to pound into you without any concern to your fresh orgasm and painful overstimulation that burned your walls.

"B-baby, Peter—please, I can'—"

And for the first time since three years ago, and for the first time together—Peter kissed you.

His kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His hips never stilled, continuing to rip orgasm after orgasm out of your poor little pussy. Although, his mouth was soft against yours, eyes closed and hand holding your neck lightly as the tips of his fingers graced your bruised skin. Bruised with the marks of his love, his obsession.

He held your face as kindly, as though you may be gone if he didn't keep you in his arms forever. Peter's tongue slid into your mouth slowly, and you moaned around him—letting him in. Your body missed him so much.

Maybe you still love him, even after it all.

Peter's pace became staggered, his hips slowing until he kept his cock deep inside and came directly into your womb. His load gushed out from the sides of your hole that stretched around him, stuffing you full. Peter allowed your thighs to rest by his hips, laying you back against the mattress as he continued to kiss you. His hands massaged your body, comforting the bites, hickeys, and bruises.

"I love you, Darling."

Peter spoke softly, pulling away from you. Admiring your fucked out state.

"So don't you leave me ever again."

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smutty-ki113r · 1 year

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🏜Ticci Toby🏜 || Roundtale rival

NSFW||~ One shot x afab gn!reader, includes- Wild West Toby, mentions of violence, use of a gun, minors—dni (3.5)

Inspired by: Lindsey Stirling

It was a pretty slow day at the saloon, you rested your head on your palm, watching the batwing doors swing open and close like a pendulum. It was just the regulars at this hour, taking lethargic swings of their whiskeys and eyeing your corset-like work attire; which is why your attention drew to the cautious creak of the door, and the tall dark and handsome man you wanted to take a drink out of.

Suddenly your mouth went dry, you almost forgot to get up and serve the customer. Seeing as he sat himself down at a table already, you walked over to him, a bit nervously. He radiated mystery, and perhaps a twinge of danger even. “Afternoon” you introduced, “can I get your order?”

He didn’t look up, and you couldn’t see his face because of that worn out cowboy hat he had angled down. You might have not seen his eyes, but you certainly felt his gaze crawl up your legs and settle at your hips. He didn’t speak for a moment, which gave you one to admire him.

Him and those typical cowboy boots that had spurs, him and that leathery trench coat that almost touched the floor when he sat, him and that chestnut brown hair that came out from the rim of the hat, him and the smell of hickory and gunpowder, and a bit of whiskey.

The suspense made you hold your breath until he responded, “bottle of scotch please mx, and a shot of whiskey”, he said, his voice throaty but light, almost as if he were teasing. He grinned under his bandana, shifting so you could hear the clink of his rounds of ammunition going around his waist.

“I’ll get that right out for you sir” you gulped, going behind the counter to pour up his drink. Coming to him with his order and asking “is there anything else I could get you?”.

Having to suffer the slow pulse in between your legs while he gave your neck a discreetly lustful glance and under his breath muttered, “what I want… I don’t know if you could handle”.

It caught you off guard, but you certainly heard it. In a moment of impulse you responded, “try me”.

He chuckled and looked up at you for the first time, “I might have to take you up on that sometime then” he said huskily, “it’s a date”. You had to hold back the stupid grin on your face as you walked back behind the counter. Catching the occasional glances he threw your way as he filled his flask with the scotch and downed the burning shot of whiskey.

Leaving a few silver dollars on the table and whipping his trench coat out the door. You wondered if you would ever see the stranger again, he certainly wasn’t from around here but you hoped he would stay a while.

That night you went to bed thinking of him and his burning taste, of the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he drunk that shot and the way he walked so confidently with those boots. Almost forgetting about the next days errands, going to the tailor and the bank after work.

You almost jumped and clicked your heels in joy for payday, heading over to the bank down the street to collect your money. The mountains looked so pretty in between the purple and orange sunset hues, a couple tumbleweeds rolling by, but you weren’t paying attention to how empty the town seemed.

Giving a passing glance to the wanted posters outside of the wooden building, seeing ruffled brown hair and a scowl and the caption “Tobias Rogers: wanted dead or alive” and not even registering it. ‘The man in the picture looked kind of handsome through’ you thought to yourself as you entered.

Getting in line to withdraw some pocket money, humming quietly and trying to make the people at the register go faster. Your body flinching at the sound of a gunshot being fired through the roof. A scream rang out and chaos ensured, but another bullet told everyone to be quiet, well- that and a muffled voice from one of the bandits robbing the bank.

There were three total, your eyes darting nervously between the first two, both masked with white and red bandanas. You felt a familiar shiver run down your spine at the pistol being pointed at your back, it made you arch and freeze. Your lip trembling as you moved forward like the man instructed.

His husky voice muffled as he said “you, move along”, you couldn’t see him, just followed his instructions silently for fear of your life. He led you to the back, to the gold and silver pieces.

Pushing slightly so you could turn and do as he said, but the moment you met his eyes your jaw dropped. There was no way you couldn’t recognize that gaze, and by the looks of it, you surprised him as well. Now he was smiling, fully grinning under his black bandana, which he lowered just for you.

Getting real close to your ear so you could feel his hot breath, “let’s see if you were bluffing about being able to handle it hm?” Toby whispered.

Excitement made its way up your abdomen, a jolt shooting through your core at the way he spoke to you, at his teasing tone and that pretty boy smile, even with the scar on his cheek.

A pistol still pointed at your stomach, telling you to keep going till you were both alone in the most sacred room in that bank. Boxes holding gold pieces and other valuables. His eyes lit up at the prize he was about secure. He shoved you a bag and motioned for you to start filling them to the brim.

You felt his eyes shift from the silver to your ass as you bent down to start collecting the pieces. Your heavy breath and the chink of coins were about the only things you could hear, adrenaline pumped through your veins as you actively helped a vigilante rob the bank.

Thinking back to that wanted poster things just started to come together, this was the guy everybody talked about, the infamous criminal who would steal and then redistribute his wealth to the needy all across the west. You thought he might be nice, but just because he seemed to make a positive impact in his community, didn’t mean he wasn’t ruthless.

As much of a liking he had taken to you, he still got impatient. Bending down to your face and instructing “faster”.

You looked up at him with teary eyes, “I’m going as fast as I can” you whined. He gulped at the sight of you down on your hands and knees like that, it was like a dream come true, and he was supposed to let that opportunity pass up?

His calloused hand reached to your chin, tracing your jaw with his thumb. “I guess you’ll just have to compensate some other way then pretty”. You were stunned, but you didn’t want to resist. This was what you wanted and more, but you were shaking with nervousness.

Getting up and swatting his hand away, “you wish pretty” you retorted. His eyes widened in surprise of your retaliation. “You can’t just prance in here and demand whatever you want from me”

He cocked his head to the side at you shaking your finger in his face, but his lips were upturned in a coy smile. “Oh?”, he noted your trembling demeanor and held your index finger with his own. “Calling the shots now are we?” He asked. “I didn’t know you had it in you”

You retreated, and with each step you took back, he took one forward. He towered, being pretty tall with a dominating composure. Toby sighed, waving a hand dismissively, “I didn’t mean to impose” he played smartly, “just under a lot of stress, the bank and all, ya know”

He spoke as if you were an old lover, a hand now resting on your cheek softly. “And I’m sure you’ll help me out, won’t you?” He threw you a pair of puppy dog eyes, but he was so handsome it made you melt, your thoughts made mush as you nodded mindlessly.

“I just know you’d be a good partner in crime” he breathed, his face now inches from yours. He neared and your shaking ceased, now it was just desire that remained. “You’ll behave for me right?”

You shook your head eagerly, forgetting what the fuck you were arguing about a minute ago. “We can get these bags filled fast” he whispered, his breath trickling on your top lip. “I’ll be quick” he almost panted. Your eyes drawn to his lips, to those beautiful lips that you wanted to taste so badly.

“Mhm” you nodded, so close that he was just teasing you at this point. “Fast” you repeated, “we’ll be quick”, you inhaled. “please-”. You had to beg, because he was having a blast taunting you. He didn’t hesitate to close the distance between you two, pushing gently so you would sit on the open boxes of metallic coins and he could bring your legs to wrap around his.

His lips tasted like honey and barbecue, and you savored him like he was your last meal. There was no time to think about how messed up it was, because the only thing on your mind was him, and how delicious he was.

You furrowed your brows and moaned into the kiss, pleased that he was meeting you with just as much, if not more passion than you. His hand snaking it’s way to your hips to squeeze them.

Toby was impatient, you were like a sweet apple pie and he wanted to bite into every inch. He laid you out over the spilled golden coins and went straight for your neck, leaving marks all around. Recklessly making a mess amongst the treasure because right here right now, you were the biggest prize.

You panted and held the back of his neck, his beating heart so loud against your chest that you could feel his pulse. Helpless noises falling from your lips when he wasn’t kissing them.

He was insatiable, his body pressed to yours, bulge rubbing itself on your cunt shamelessly. Toby didn’t give a fuck, he just needed you, and he was going to get what he wanted.

To feel him press against that sensitive spot so perfectly made you wet with desire, bucking your hips up because you were so desperate to feel him inside you, to satisfy that craving he awoke.

“I can’t fucking get enough of you” he panted, biting your neck gently, just to get a little taste, he groaned against your skin as he felt the tender bit of flesh in between his teeth.

Your eyes lidded as you caught a glimpse of him above you, manhandling your body like he owned it. His own gaze landing on your open chest and how your tits were almost spilling out of that corset.

His hands were quick to pull them out and kiss them needily, he wanted to devour every bit. Those beautiful nipples that he popped in his mouth, swirling them around with his tongue. Those tempting lips he kissed over and over again. That gorgeous neck he just couldn’t get enough of.

He spread apart your legs and kissed his way down your chest and your hips till he reached your cunt, pulling off your panties quickly and watching the show you reacted when he slid his fingers up and down your slit.

“My my, wet already are we?” He asked, edging just the tip of a finger in to feel the dripping slick. You blushed, not even shying away because you were just so needy for him. Throbbing at the epicenter of his touch, just from the heated gaze he put on your body.

“Fuck I’m gonna feel so good inside this cunt” he panted, slipping his fingers in and groaning at just how tight you were, lowering his face to where you could only see the tuffs of his beautiful dark hair coming out from the sides of his hat. He met your eyes for a second, “but first I want to try what I’m buying”

His tongue met your clit softly, but the contact sent a wave of vibration throughout your whole body. He lapped at your juices like a starved man, plunging a finger in and curling it to hit that sweet spot you liked so much. His nose gently pressed against you as he devoured you.

You were coming undone faster than you would have liked, but he was just too addicting, too sweet and saccharine, and waiting felt like a sin. “Oh- Jesus” you whimpered, “don’t stop-“ you pleaded.

It was pure bliss, being treated like an all you can eat buffet, relentless lapping at your pearl; and even though it felt like you were high on ecstasy, it seemed like he was enjoying this more than you. From those noises of delight it was almost as if he was the one who was being pleasured.

He was going so fast, your head was fuzzy and all you could do was whimper and moan. “Fuck- I’m close!” You warned, your head falling back because all you could do was hold on and wait for that wave to hit. At the mention of your approaching orgasm he grinned against your skin and decided to make it extra difficult for you.

Toby latched onto your clit, sucking and groaning at the taste. Having him suck on your most sensitive area sent you into a shock of electricity, cumming so fast you could do nothing but squeal and hold onto the sides of the crate you were laying on. Your legs shaking and wrapping around his head, knocking his cowboy hat off.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve seen all day” he groaned “and I’ve been out riding in the dessert at noon” he joked, kissing your inner thighs. And you had to pry him off because he didn’t want to go. Fuck he would probably spend all day down there if you let him. Now that he had a taste- he wasn’t going to let you off the hook so easily.

“Oh hey now, I was having fun down there” he teased, “but we can have fun doing something else instead…” Your entire body was still vibrating, and he was so hard you thought he might tear a hole in those pants.

“Yes” you said without a second thought, “I need you”. The ends of his lips turned up in a smug smile.

“I have no objections with that then gorgeous” he said, moving in on your neck once again. Placing his hat on your head, watching you accommodate to it strangely, but nothing was more attractive than you wearing his daily piece, with your legs spread, ready to take him.

“You’re so good for me” he whispered, pulling his cock out and giving it a few strokes. “Such a good, pretty little thing for such a bad guy” he bullied, groaning against your ear as he slid his tip against your wet lips. “Not like you had much of a choice, the moment I saw you I knew I had to have you”

“I am a theif after all, I take what I want” your mouth opened in silent squeal when he found your hole and bottomed out. His eyes meeting yours with a burning passion as he got a feel for you, “you feel so fucking amazing” he panted.

Rolling his hips back and snapping them against yours, his head rolling back as he started stroking into you. Your wet cunt squelching in response to his cock filling you up deliciously. He was the biggest you had ever seen, ever taken, and he reached places that would be wrong to mention.

His thrusting was so rough it made the coins overflowing in the crate fall off and chink down to the growing pile on the floor. The jingling sounds of the metal, the creak of the wooden surface and the string of wanton noises were the only things you could hear, but you couldn’t focus on anything other than the man who was fucking you.

It was the most pleasurable feeling you had ever experienced, his girth stretching you out like that, balls slapping against your ass. “Can you feel me inside you?” He asked in a trance of joy.

You gasped every time he bottomed out, crying out “yes!” and lacing your fingers with his as he stroked your walls.

His hands sliding down to your hips to pull you back on him and use you like a toy for his pleasure. It was like a dream to him, and he could think of nothing but the way you squeezed his cock like a vice. He threw his head back and kept pounding, you looked up to see the sight, he was like a god.

Sweat dripped delicately from the tips of his chestnut hair, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down from swallowing saliva cause fuck you were making him salivate. The taste of your pussy still on his lips, the essence of raw flesh on his tongue.

“Fuck I can feel you wrapped around me god, nothing’s ever felt so good” he groaned, pulling out and flipping you over. He wanted to grab a handful of your ass while he pressed into you.

You molted into the new position, giggling at his hand kneading your ass and holding onto your hips. He was so deep inside you, taking you from the back so he could watch your ass bounce every time he thrusted.

Behind you, you could hear his deep exhales every time he filled you completely, his shameless moans at your wetness. Your cheeks tinted at the sounds of clapping, he was so carried away, and you were too the moment his hand reached over to play with your clit.

“Your pussy is gonna milk me” he exhaled, you pulsed at his lewd words. He just had this way about him, maybe the way he moved and handled you so expertly, or his boyish charm that won you over in 2 seconds flat- that had this power over you and your body.

 With every little touch and press of his fingers you reacted, arching your back into him. Your face falling because it was just too much to take, he was so big and so gratifying it made you dizzy.

“You’re doing so good sugar” he praised, turning your head so he could see you and kiss your gorgeous lips while he pounded into your pussy. “Just a little longer and I’ll let you cum alright?”

You nodded into his lips, bouncing back eagerly so he would give you what you so craved. “I know how badly you want it babe” he teased, his fingers digging into you so hard they left marks. You sat there, taking his fat cock just like he wanted, each stroke coaxing you to that climax.

His thrusts got faster, deeper, making you see stars as he panted and rambled out praises to you. “So so good for me” he said, his voice coarse. “Jesus” was the last thing he muttered before he pressed his body to yours and spilled inside your hole.

You felt him fill you up and his teasing was still going, not wanting to cum before he said so. It was a relief when he finally said “do it, cum on my fingers”, just the rough tone of command was enough to send you over the edge for the second time. You squealed and throbbed through your orgasm, rolling your eyes back and thankful for him holding you up because you needed it.

Turning back to face him and get dressed, he didn’t even bother taking the hat back. He gave you a joyful smile and told you “it looks better on you”. Holding the bags of money open once again and finishing up the original job.

He put the bags in your hands and walked out with you in a headlock, “sorry in advance for this sugar”, he pressed that silver pistol up to your head and made you walk out with the money. “Nobody move or this one bites the dust” he warned the people.

Motioning for his associates in crime to cover him as he led you outside and made you get on his horse. You watched in awe as he pulled off a sort of flawless bank heist, his friends right behind him as you rode away into the sunset.

He put the pistol away and took charge on the horse, ignoring the questioning glances from his partners and shrugging. “Don’t blame me for taking the pretty things, you said rob the bank and take the valuables” he huffed, sending you a knowing grin and a wink, “and thats just what I did”

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