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With not a lot of time on your hands, there was a big reason why you did what you did. And however frowned upon your job description was, it kept you alive, kept you fed— kept you with a healthy wad of time on your wrist.
Roaming in the wealthy streets of New Greenwich offered you countless men to spend the night with, prostituting yourself in exchange for a hefty fee, a couple weeks, hell, maybe months worth of time clocked onto your watch once you were done.
So, like any other night, you waited, clad in a pretty dress and pantyhose, garters showing, all lacey and cute— in no time a patron drove up beside you, window down and sleeves rolled up, making sure the ticking of his years were on show.
You were about to bend down, lean against the door of his car, give him a few of your usual lines, a teasing smile playing on your lips while he offered to take you back to a hotel suite.
But not today, it seemed.
“Can’t begin to count how many times I’ve found you doin’ this, y/n,” the familiar voice sighed mockingly, and you turned to find him, Ray, the most well-known time keeper of the area, and your most loyal customer. “Just can’t seem to get it in that dumb brain of yours that what you’re doing is illegal.”
You turned back to the man in front of you, only to soon have him realise who had caught you, speeding off down the highway in his stupidly flash car, leaving the timekeeper to chuckle from behind you, the leather of his coat squeaking when he decided to cross his arms.
“What’re you gonna do, Ray?” You rolled your eyes, stepping closer towards him as if trying to intimate him in some way, though your attempts were futile. “You gonna arrest me?”
He smirked, cockily running his tongue along his teeth, smacking his lips before giving you a pout, one to mock you, to make you feel small.
“Y’know, sweetheart, maybe I will.” He hummed, slowly moving in closer, faces merely centimetres apart, mouth so mind-numbingly close to yours, your eyes staring dumbly at his pretty lips, all plump and glistening from running his tongue along—
With a sudden harshness, he spun you around, bending you over and pressing you firmly against the hood of his car. Your cheek smooshed against it while he took both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back, the jingle of handcuffs rang through your ears when he opened them up, slipping them over your wrists before tightening them with a sharp click on each side.
The metal dug into the flesh of your wrists, biting raw rings around them when you tugged and squirmed.
“You-” you started, struggling from under his gaze, one of his palms pressed to the space between your shoulders, keeping you in place. “You can’t do this, Raymond!”
Ray chuckled, pressing closer towards you, leaning his face against your cheek when he hovered over your back.
“I’m a timekeeper, honey,” he cooed mockingly, tip of his tongue grazing the shell of your ear and it caused a shiver to run along the length of your spine. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
You whined, huffing out a breath, tugging and tugging at your restraints as if somehow they’d just slip from your wrists with no problem.
“Besides, I thought I told you,” he ran his tongue along his lips, smacking his spit, breath fanning along your neck. “Only I get to touch you, you’re my whore and you work for me, you understand?”
You stayed silent.
He huffed out a breath, disappointed in your lack of participation, spinning you around so your back was against the hood instead, bringing his big palm up to your cheek in a sharp, searing smack, heavy and painful enough to jolt your head to one side.
You whimpered at the sting, feeling your cheek bloom with the welt, the warmth of his handprint still heavy on your skin.
“Let me say this nice and slow for you, sweetheart— I know you’re just too stupid to understand,” he clutched at your throat, fingers closing against the sides of your throat, squeezing almost mind-numbingly. “I said. Do. You. Understand?”
He punctuated his speech with little squeezes to your throat, your breathing laboured from the constriction, wanting so desperately to claw at his wrists, but those stupid handcuffs got in the way.
“Yes,” you choked out, nodding as best as you could, lashes fluttering from the lack of oxygen. “I-I understand, Ray.”
“Good girl,” he pouted, cooing at you mockingly and shaking your head from side to side. “wasn’t so hard was it, dumb girl?”
From the position you were in, you could get a good look at him. You had missed him- missed this, you hadn’t seen him for a while, his mind occupied on chasing down a certain Will Salas, of course he had made you promise to stay loyal, to not seek any men to take you home, to accept any form of touch that wasn’t his, but how were you supposed to agree? Your time was ticking, you couldn’t afford to mope around and wait for him, you had to work, to seek wealthy men and drain them of their time in exchange for sex.
“Missed you,” you spoke, barely above a whisper, eyes flitting over his form watching his jaw clench and nostrils flare. He couldn’t meet your stare.
“M’takin’ you home,” he muttered, pushing you by the shoulders and swinging the passenger door open.
“Will you at least take these cuffs off?” You pouted, turning your head to bat your lashes at him from over your shoulder. His lip quirked up in a smirk, sponging an oddly chaste kiss to your cheek before pressing his mouth against the shell of your ear. Your breath hitched.
“Not a chance.”
-
Raymond drove you to his apartment, it wasn’t the first time you had seen the place, in fact you had become quite familiar with it— little glimpses of Ray’s life littered the space, his taste somewhat minimalistic, but oddly homely.
He pressed you against his front door once it clicked closed, hands still awkwardly positioned and you struggled in a feeble attempt to break free from your restraint.
Ray’s mouth was on yours in an instant, mostly tongue and teeth, spit trickling down your chin at the rough attack of it all. He cradled your jaw in his hands, suckling your tongue between his lips, groaning at the breathy sighs you emitted.
“All mine,” he murmured against your mouth, pulling away to give your cheek a slap, a silver string of spit still connecting your mouths together. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”
Your tongue swiped over your swollen lips, eyes hooded, completely submerged in the will to submit.
“M’yours,” you whimpered. He slapped you once more and your cheek bloomed with heat.
“Again, say it again.”
“M’yours, Ray—” you leaned forward to nudge your nose against his. “all yours.”
He sighed, the sound akin to a whimper when you uttered his name, his lashes fluttered and he pressed his pelvis firmly against your belly.
He was hard. So fucking hard, and your mouth watered, longing for it to be in your mouth, the taste of his pre-cum on your tongue, just lapping and suckling for as long as you could handle.
“Feel what you do to me, baby,” he groaned, grinding against you, fingers tangling in your hair and his lips on your jaw. “S’all your fault.”
You bit at your lip to suppress a needy moan when he shrugged his leather coat from his shoulders, hands back on you again in an instant.
“Thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart,” he spoke, brows furrowing and you itched to smooth the crease out with the pad of your thumb. “thought I told you to stop whorin’ around.”
Ray’s hand slipped to your throat, fingers and thumb pressing against the sides of your neck, leaving your head all swirly and light.
You frowned, choking out your words between breaths.
“I don’t have the time to wait for you.”
He was selfish, too much of a coward to take care of you and settle down with you instead of fucking promises out of your mouth, having you say you’re his when he wasn’t even yours.
It frustrated you.
“Oh, it’s time you want?” He chuckled dryly, “gee, honey, thought I wasn’t just one of your customers.”
He lifted his sleeve, the seconds on his arm ticking downward— tickticktick, until he reached behind you and pressed his wrist against your own.
The seconds, minutes, hours all went down in a blur, transferring to your time, adding on a hefty amount.
You gasped, trying to push him away as his life span quickly became merely hours.
“Raymond-” you struggled in his grip. “Raymond, stop it!”
He pulled away, his clock down to an hour, that was all. Fifty-nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six, fifty-five…
“See,” he breathed, pushing your hair to tuck behind your ear, “now you have all the time in the world.”