It was a cool, quiet night. The city lights shimmered across the pavement as your heels clicked rhythmically along the sidewalk. Dressed up and feeling good, you were on your way home from the bar, lost in your thoughts, music playing faintly in your headphones and extremely intoxicated. But then—

The sound of fast, heavy footsteps pierced the stillness behind you.

You barely had time to turn before a figure in dark clothing came rushing up. A black ski mask obscured his face, but his voice came through clear and threatening.

“GIVE ME YOUR F*CKING PHONE!” The words exploded into the night as he yanked your phone from your hand. Your heart slammed in your chest—everything blurred. Panic. Fear. Adrenaline.

You looked around. Empty street. No one in sight. No time to scream. You knew he could run, and he’d be gone in seconds. And then, without fully thinking—maybe out of shock, maybe instinct.. or maybe by the fact you were drunk—you stepped forward and grabbed his hoodie.

Your lips crashed into his, catching him completely off guard. His body stiffened as you held onto his waist, your kiss desperate and unexpected. He didn’t respond at first—too stunned to move—but he didn’t pull away, either. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his hoodie, grounding yourself as you kissed the stranger who just mugged you.

Finally, he broke away, breathing heavy. His eyes widened behind the holes in the mask, searching your face for answers. His chest rose and fell like he’d just sprinted a mile. He was speechless. You thought maybe that moment would give you a chance to grab your phone and run, but then—

He shoved you back.

Not violently—just enough to press you against the cold brick wall behind you. His hands gripped your thighs suddenly, lifting you effortlessly. A small gasp escaped your lips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Your back hit the wall with a thud, and then he was kissing you.

This kiss was nothing like the first.

It was rough. Hungry. Possessive. Like he didn’t understand what just happened but decided he didn’t care. One hand held you firmly under your thigh while the other pressed into the wall beside your head, his body tight against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath warm and uneven.

He pulled away again, just slightly. Enough that your lips barely brushed. You caught a glimpse of his eyes again through the mask. Confused. Intense. Vulnerable.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, voice lower now. Less threatening, more… stunned.

You didn’t answer. Maybe you didn’t know. Maybe you just didn’t want to.

Your hands slid up beneath his hoodie, fingertips grazing the skin of his lower back. You felt him flinch slightly at your touch, like he wasn’t used to this kind of contact. Like he didn’t know how to react to being wanted.

For a moment, the city disappeared. No footsteps. No night air. Just you and the masked stranger, tangled in a chaos neither of you could explain. A twisted mix of fear, tension, and something strange and electric.

And through all the madness, you still didn’t have your phone… Yet anyways.