the weight of the gun sits heavy in your palm, fingers delicately sliding over the cool metal of it — keeping your finger off the trigger like rafe had warned you to.
you had felt it tucked into his waistband, and you were curious. now here you were, holding the weapon in your hand — feeling as though it looked much larger in yours than it ever did rafe’s.
he was sat on the bed, smirking to himself, legs spread wide and arms crossed over his broad chest. “c’mon, baby. ‘said you wanted to play?” he mocked, gesturing with a head nod for you to do something — so you did.
you raised the gun, the cold barrel pressed against his throat as you grinned. the adrenaline rush of feeling in control, like you had the power, like you could finally make him squirm had you dizzy.
“i could kill you,” you shrugged, finger still far from the trigger and safety on. but you liked the kick it gave you. “an’ you couldn’t stop me.”
“oh yeah? that so?” he immediately retorted, brow raised. other than the cocky brow raise of ‘you won’t do shit’, he had an almost bored expression. like his girl pointing a loaded gun to his throat was a normal occurrence.
“mhm. very much so,” you ran the gun from his throat, up the side of his face, and to his temple. “‘could blow your handsome brains out.”
his lips tugged into a smirk.
before you could even process, the gun was taken from your hand, now pressed against your temple as rafe pushed you onto the bed, a sharp gasp leaving your lips.
“yeah?” he tilted his head, voice low.
if your heart hammering in your ear was any louder, you would’ve missed the faint click of the safety.
nervously gliding your eyes over, you see rafe’s finger on the trigger.
“r–rafe—” you whispered shakily, blinking your wide eyes up at him as the barrel of the gun dug into the skin of your temple. he smirked wide.
“whas’up, doll? not so big and bad anymore?” he mocked, tilting his head at you as he dragged the gun down your sternum, the cold metal making your nipples pebble and a rush of warm pool in your abdomen.
you swallowed, eyes fluttering up at him. you tried to speak, but your words came out as a strained squeak. his gun continued its travel down your body, the sight hooking in the belt loop of your jeans.
“take these off.” he ordered, and your hands moved faster than you could think, undoing the button, zip and pushing them down your plush thighs in a matter of seconds.
he hummed, eyes moving down to your damp panties before the gun followed, pressing the barrel against your throbbing clit.
you let out a gaspy whine.
the risk, the thrill, the danger and, overall, the trust, of this situation making a new wave of arousal dampen your panties, seeping through and making the tip of the gun glisten. he scoffed a mocking laugh.
“into this shit, huh? into your precious boyfriend pointing a gun at your pretty lil’ cunt, knowing he could kill you? and you’re too scared t’stop him?” he asked, eyes dark as he slowly swirled the gun in a circle over your clit, the pressure and coolness of it making your head spin.
a needy moan bubbled up and out of your throat.
“lay on your back. take off your shirt n’ panties.” he demanded, almost glaring at you with a dark, hungry look in his eyes as he undid his belt and slacks, pushing them down his meaty thighs before crawling over to you on the bed.
you had did as he asked, now bare and on your back for him. you knew the routine. you spread your legs for him, giving him the glorious pleasure of seeing your drooling cunt, needy hole fluttering and clit twitching.
he pointed the gun directly at your face as he reached into his boxers, pulling out his heavy dick and stroking himself to the sight of you. panting, needy, lip trembling and eyes wide like a doe in headlights.
“you gonna cry?” he mocked, moving between your legs as he jerked himself slowly. when you shook your head, he tutted. “too bad.”
he brought the gun down to your stomach, pressing it there as he guided the angry red tip of his dick to your crying hole, nudging his way in. no matter how many times he fucked you — which was a lot — you never got used to the initial stretch. you whined, eyes fluttering shut as he sunk all the way into your cunt, burying himself to the hilt.
“uh uh,” he shook his head, gun moving to press the barrel against your throat. “eyes on me. look away and i blow your fuckin’ brains out.”
your eyes snapped open. and despite the fact you both knew that was an empty threat, you couldn’t help the frightened whine spilling from your lips.
he watched you, waiting for the ‘rafe, stop’ or the cry of the safe word, but instead?
your legs wrapped around his hips, a whimpered moan leaving your lips.
like a wild animal ready to maul and draw blood.
with one hand beside your head, the other holding the gun to your sternum, he rocked his hips in slow, deep thrusts that had moans clawing their way out your pouted lips each time.
“my pretty baby,” he cooed, gun caressing your pebbled nipples as if it was his own hands.
“faster — fuck, mmngh! faster!” you cried, ankles locking behind his back so he couldn’t pull away, the pleasure dizzying you.
you could feel your orgasm bubbling already. he obeyed, picking up the speed of his thrusts, repeatedly hitting the spongey spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back and knocking a loud, wanton moan out of you that bounced off the walls.
he leaned his head down, nose nudging your jaw before his lips brushed your ear.
“i could kill you,” he growled, repeating your words to you as the gun pressed against your temple.
“blow those pretty lil’ brains out. hm? you want that?” he asked, and you shook your head quickly.
“no! wan’a cum! g’na cum.” you cried, manicured nails clawing down his back as your slick pussy allowed him to slip in and out with ease.
“yeah? gonna cum f’me?” he asked, watching you eagerly nod with sniffles and whined, eyes rolled back.
“fuckin’ cum.” he growled and —
your ears rung as you screamed, body shaking as white hot pleasure washed over your body. you couldn’t see — vision hazy and hearing muffled as your body writhed, your orgasm hitting you harder than any other.
moans and whines spilled from you as the feeling that had lasted a minute — at least — finally settled, blinking your blurry eyes to stare up at rafe, all wide and scared.
he was grinning at you with dark eyes, gun still pointed to the headboard above you where there was now a hole, bullet cut straight through it and into the wall behind.
“that could’ve been your pretty face.”
