word nails

i’m in my prime,
not withering and old.
but i refuse to play
your wicked games any longer.

i know this tether is unbreakable,
but you make me feel like i’m interchangeable.
you drew a target on my heart,
when did this become fatal attraction?

i don’t have the strength,
the energy,
nor the patience
to be held hostage by your love.

so baby please don’t despair
when i say that
i’ve found the courage to
let you go.

you were never meant to be tied down in the first place.

—  believing i could love you was my mistake, c.j.n.
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that’s real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar’s chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
—  Hurt by Nine Inch Nails
Holmes stories in six words

Bad stepdad nailed bed, trained snake

Treasure lost. Wife gained. Holmes sad.

They hired her for her hair.

Holmes dying. Watson crying. Holmes lying.

Binder full of women. Acidic response.

Six Napoleons? Oh, there it is.

Framed the nanny with a rock.

There’s always a catch, Dr Trevelyan.

The king’s a dick. She’s smarter.

Marry a Lord. Already married? Whoops.

Copy out this encyclopedia, ginger nut.

Egad! Her fiancé’s her disguised stepdad!

Secret daughter welcomed into woke family.

Seriously, who spins a whole carpet?

That burglary was fishy. Oranges everywhere!

Australians are all escaped murderers, probably.

Murder plus lion equals karma, sadly.

Watson, go tromp around the moors.

Idiot stalker fails at addressing mail.

“David” was a reference, you heathen.

Dog didn’t bark; horse needed washing.

Don’t accuse your son on circumstance.

Waterfalls make the best body dumps.

Surprise! Not dead. Are you ok?

My eyes’re dim, I cannot flee.

Golden Boy was the cheat, obviously.

He’s not homeless, he begs recreationally!

Harpooning pigs brings sailors to justice.

She’s foreign, not a bloody vampire.

Apparently dying wives trump rugby matches.

Poison is not a toy, Holmes!

It’s English, just drawn in hieroglyphics.

Blackmailer meets nothing left to lose.

Tracking is all about the tracks.

It was never about the sundial.

Telling geese apart is really hard.

She was under the old lady.

He’s fine, it’s ichthyosis. Stand down.

Act your age, professor. You’re creepy.

A lovely swim interrupted. Jellyfish dunnit!

Fuller’s earth my arse, Nine Fingers.

Everyone wants to marry Miss Smith.

Maybe don’t take the iffy job.

Shoot Watson? I KILL YOU, MOTHERFUCKER.

10

ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴ ʀᴀᴋᴜʏᴏᴜ | ᴋᴀᴍᴜɪ ᴠꜱ ᴜᴍɪʙᴏᴜᴢᴜ

Look at me, Umibouzu. I’ve grown stronger. Ever since then, I’ve desperately trying to follow in your footsteps. Ever since then, I’ve kept fighting just to surpass you. Look at me, Umibouzu. I’ve grown strong enough to kill you.

anonymous asked:

"Go then!! Leave!! See if I care!!" scenario between RFA members + MC :)

(i legit cracked my knuckles before starting to write bc I just KNOW this is going to be a long wall of text filled with angst boiiiii… ALSO this has a sorta happy ish ending bc…… my mood is too high up to write pure angst???? crushes can destroy a person rip)

((also I didn’t write V?? because I love him and honestly I can’t… squeeze my brain to get a clear image of what he’d do??? if I find a good and actually logical reaction, I’ll add him later on- but this is already super long and all-sorry!))

Yoosung

  • it’s hard for Yoosung to express his anger in a healthy way
  • he’d usually just play LOLOL and beat up monsters until he felt calm, but…
  • he can’t quite do that
  • MC had told him clearly:
  • he’s spending so much time on the game, it feels like MC is living alone
  • deep in his heart, he knows it’s true
  • with the increasing difficulty of classes, he just… naturally dove deeper and deeper into LOLOL
  • when he counted back, how much time had he spent with MC…?
  • had he even spent time with them in the past month?
  • it’s just when MC asks him for what seems like the hundredth time if he’s going to turn off the computer
  • it’s that what just sets off the stress
  • he really hates the anger he can feel bubbling up in him, but he can’t even avoid it
    • “Will you shut up?! I’ve answered you before! No! How hard can it be to understand?!”
  • it’s hard to tell who’s more shocked
  • him or MC
  • “What- what the fuck, Yoosung?! I’m just trying to spend some time with m boyfriend! Is it that wrong?! Would you rather just me leave?!”
  • he replies without thinking too much
  • his head is too full of anger led by stress
    • “Nothing is stopping you! The door is there for you to leave!”
  • he wasn’t shocked when MC ran out the room
  • he…. knew he’d acted like an asshole
  • what shocks him is the sound of the front door being slammed shut
  • he suddenly feels all the guilt washing up on him and he calls MC
  • no answer
  • he sits by the door for hours, but they don’t come
  • a week passes
  • every time he enters the chat they leave
  • his grades are dropping, he’s gaming for longer, and he can’t remember the last time he even ate a proper meal
  • he could have probably collapsed when the second week rolled around
  • living off cereal and random energy drinks he bought and gaming all day
  • it gets his mind off the trouble
  • when MC finally comes back, it’s more for concern about his health
  • at first he thinks he’s reached his limit. he’s hallucinating- stared too much at a screen and fried his brain. it can’t be. it can’t be MC. it’s a prank
  • MC scolds him- how could he let it get this bad? he could literally collapse and probably even die!- and also hugs him
  • both feel guilty, and Yoosung can’t even stop crying and apologizing as he hugs MC

Jaehee

  • little by little her stress builds up
  • this recipe didn’t come out like she wanted
  • too much work
  • her CD player broke
  • small things add up and up and don’t ever go down
  • it probably takes a full month before she’s at the limit
  • and it’s like a delicate sculpture- even the smallest touch could shatter her patience at this point
  • and that little touch just so happens to be delivered by MC
  • it’s a small mistake
  • just washing the dishes and accidentally breaking off a mug’s handle
    • “Gosh, sorry love, I’ll put this in the trash before one of us accidentally cuts themselves with the jagged end-”
  • Jaehee hears nothing
  • this has been the most stressful and tense month of her life AND NOW THIS HAPPENS, AT HOME, WHERE HER CALMNESS IS SUPPOSED TO BE-
    • “Are you stupid? How could you just break it like that?!”
  • She speaks oddly calmly for someone who was holding back stress and let it all loose at once
  • and it puts MC off
    • “I- it was an accident, Jahee- you’ve, this has happened to you before too,”
  • that just makes things worse
    • “Now it’s my fault?! I didn’t even touch the mug- stop shifting the blame onto me, specially if it was caused by your own clumsiness! Get ou- just, out!”
  • jaehee doesn’t know what she herself means with out
  • she half expects MC to get angry and shut themselves in the bedroom
  • or maybe shut themselves in the bathroom
  • she just needs to be alone and MC is in the kitchen- out, out out!
  • what she didn’t expect was for them to literally go out
  • they rush to the bedroom, and a few minutes later the front door creaks open and 
  • they’re gone
  • MC is gone
  • jaehee purses her lips once she realizes this, but she tries to stand strong
  • she was mean, and if MC need time alone too, that’s ok, right?
  • a day passes
  • two days
  • a week
  • MC is clearly alive- sometimes entering the chat to deliver an important message or so, but leaving quickly without even acknowledging her
  • for some reason, she can’t seem to throw herself into her work to avoid thinking- that’s how distressed she is
  • her work becomes slow and sluggish, and she can’t even seem to concentrate on basic tasks
  • it’s hard, but for one time- after so many tries- MC picks up the phone
  • after two weeks, she’s hearing their voice again
  • apologies are flying all over when MC walks in- she’s prepared food, MC’s favourite drink, and she fixed the mug with some superglue she found on the store
  • she can’t even express how much she needs MC, and fully accepts the fault for the situation, while asking MC to maybe… stay….

Zen

  • always a rumor going around about him
  • he knows it can’t be helped, but it bothers him
  • MC says they’re ok! it’s bound to happen!
  • but each time a new fake rumor springs up MC becomes…
  • more distant
  • one day in the couch, Zen feels so alone
  • when was the last time he and MC kissed? or even held hands??
  • why is MC like this?
  • upon asking, MC just seems to feel awkward and shrinks into the couch
    • “I trust you and love you, but… It’s just… Those rumors, they bring up so many evidence, and I… I feel… No, it’s rude to say it, sorry, I’ll… Go to bed now.”
  • is that
  • is MC implying they actually believe he’d cheat?
  • and usually this would prompt to him reassuring MC that he loves them, that he’d never do that
  • but it’s just… those tabloids and news have brought him and his manager so much stress lately, so much problems-
  • and now MC believes them?
  • he feels like he’s been punched in the stomach
    • “Wow, you trust those kinds of people more than me? Your actual boyfriend?”
  • MC turns around at this, and quickly tries to clean up what they said
  • they didn’t mean it like that
  • but seriously, the uncomfortable feeling that built up with each news article seems to lead up to MC spitting out another comment
    • “No, it’s just, I trust you! I… I guess those fishy news outlets and crappy tabloids are just simply amazing at photoshop and can make a photo where you’re kissing someone else that easy, huh?”
  • what the fuck
  • what the fuck
  • his blood is heating up, and he sucks in his breath
  • MC is accusing him of cheating
  • he hasn’t done anything to deserve this
  • to be fair, he did have some beers before, and earlier practice was crappy and his day had been pretty stressful- he did have a fair amount of stress on his shoulders that caused him to snap
    • “Well! With that amount of trust we’ve got here, maybe you’re the one smooching others when you’re out- because you clearly share so much trust, huh?!”
  • MC raises their voice to his level- somewhat shakier- but standing firm
    • “I’m trying so hard to trust you! So, so hard! But we can’t even hold hands in public- I can’t switch from being completely cold with you to being lovey dovey at home- I’m a human! Guess what?! That and those pictures do bother me! It’s actually! Kind of stressful!”
  • that’s his last straw
  • nothing in MC’s words particularly sets him off- maybe it’s the whole thing, maybe it’s nothing
    • “Get out of my sight! If you’re going to be like that, I’d rather be alone in this house!”
  • cue dead silence
  • both of them are clearly regretting their words- maybe not as much as they should, due to the boiling-hot blood pumping through their bodies
  • which probably causes MC to utter “fine” and slam the door as they leave
  • the first two days are hell, but Zen’s pride keeps him from trying to reach MC in the groupchat where they show up sometimes
  • a call they don’t answer, a message left in seen… his efforts to try and be level-headed are failing when it comes to apologizing
  • the second week, he’s desperate
  • he has received the worst critiques in his life about his acting by now- too stiff, out of character, spacing out in the middle of acting
  • and it’s that what prompts MC to go back after Jaehee worriedly begs them too
  • at first, when they unlock the door and go to where he’s sitting on the couch, it’s hard to find words
  • he hugs them out of reflex- god he missed them- and it’s time for MC and Zen to properly apologize before spending an hour on the couch muttering about how lonely and miserable they were without the other

Jumin

  • The argument is small at first
  • it’s about a little thing, nothing too big, and honestly, he can’t even remember what it was
  • he can’t even remember how it escalated like that
  • he remembers slowly getting more irritated with MC, voice ever so slowly growing in tone, frustration creeping up on him
  • he can’t really tell when the small argument became an actual argument
  • talking- if not almost screaming with loud tones- filled the penthouse
  • the guards were probably all incredibly scared, and in all honesty, they’d have the right
  • he wishes he hadn’t had so much wine before
  • all he knows is that when he woke up, MC wasn’t home
  • he felt panic. horrible, soul consuming panic- it was worse than when Elizabeth 3rd had gone missing
  • he calls Jaehee
    • “Deploy all my guards to comb the city for MC, look for any free ad space in big and noticeable places- if those are taken, offer a higher pay immediately- MC is missing, we need to find them right now, ask the design department to-”
  • a big sigh cuts him off
  • Jaehee can’t even understand what her boss is saying
  • his words are so fast and filled with panic they become a blur of sound
    • “MC is with me, Mr. Han. They seemed incredibly upset yesterday, and asked if they could stay. I… Have no business in asking you this sir, so I won’t, but if you and MC had a fight, it might be best to let them cool off for a while.”
  • those words feel somewhat like nails being laid on a coffin
  • he tries to communicate with MC to no avail- asking Jaehee to please relay a message to them is the only way to get anything to them, and even then, no reply comes
  • his work becomes a complete mess
  • his handwriting is incomprehensible, he shows up late to work, and his documents are full of errors
  • it’s so bad even Zen feels worried- which is a lot
  • the second the week ends, Jaehee knows this can’t go on and arranges for Jumin to meet MC at her place
  • even though he feels awkward and out of  place in his employee’s house (and probably so does Jaehee), the chance to talk and see MC is a certain yes
  • he brings so many gifts as apologies- anything and everything he saw that reminded him of MC, from clothes to electronics- and it almost is too overwhelming for them
  • apologizing isn’t that hard when he is pouring out words without a filter- a consequence of being away from MC so much and finally seeing them again

707

  • Work, work, work, work, emotional stress, work, work, becoming cold, work, isolating himself, work, work, more work-
  • if MC had to make a list of what Seven has done the past days, it’d be that
  • completely enveloped in his work, not taking care of himself, letting his mental state fall down to the trash
  • even when trying, MC can’t help-
  • everything they do puts him off and he acts colder
  • it feels like back then, huh…
  • it’s too hard to brush it off
  • Seven’s usually odd but quirky humour wasn’t permanent- MC knew so much, and they loved even the somewhat cold and depression-riddled person Seven became
  • but… even this was a bit too hard
  • it wasn’t just being cold- it was plain rudeness sometimes, to downright ignoring MC
    • “Am I bothering you now…?”
  • MC knew the answer they’d receive- cleaning up the trash around Seven,being in the room; all that probably bothered him in his mood
    • “Yes. Get out.”
  • pressing their lips firmly, they stood up and packed some bags
  • was it petty? … probably.
  • but maybe it was for the best- a couple weeks alone would probably be what Seven wanted, right? and maybe going out and taking their mind off things would be good for them too, no?
  • the first day, Seven has already riddled their phone with calls, begging for an answer
  • he’s regretting it. he’s feeling like shit
  • but MC can’t just return yet- even if they feel bad for Seven, they have feelings to, y’know? they need some time too
  • so turning off the phone, days fly by and the small wounds on MC’s soul heal up
  • but the overwhelming guilt of leaving Seven for so long is unbearable
  • it’s not that it was even planned, but Seven can easily find them,and finally decides to show up to the restaurant where MC was planning on eating that day
  • he looks… better, but also worse
  • he showered and dressed in fresh clothes, and that’s an improvement
  • but the circles under his eyes are darker than ever, and he looks so lost and sad that it hurts
  • it takes all his strenght to not simply hug MC then and there, and cry
  • at first, MC fears they made it worse- now that they left, Seven will be colder than ever, he’ll hate them-
  • but it’s not… that bad
  • he feels like crap, too; for making MC feel so alone like that, and for acting like a stranger- he gladly assumes part of the fault and hopes to keep going on with the relationship

So you are on your fourteenth shower in the last twenty-four hours and yet you feel dirty, your insecurities cling to you better than your skin and they even flow in your bloodstream. 


The word FAT refuses to go down the drain because it is too big to fit in through the hole and the word UGLY is hanging onto you by your nails, the word UNSIGHTLY is stuck in the mirror in front of you and the word LONELY just entered the bathroom. The word UNATTRACTIVE is still your closest friend because it never left, and the word PLAIN-LOOKING is the compliment you’ve ever felt

—  INSECURITIES SCREAM EVEN LOUDER IN SILENCE // JustScribbledWords
Sucker for Pain

Warning: self-loathing, “strong” language

Shawn lets out a shaky breath as he kneels in front of her. He can’t bring himself to look at her. He must look pathetic, kneeling, naked in front of her, hard cock flushed red.

“Neglecting your health again? Not getting enough sleep? We talked about this Shawn…” she chastises him, “Look at me.”

His eyes squeeze shut as shame wells up in him, his cheeks flushing. A bead of precome drools down his cock. Disgraceful. A small, soft, unyielding hand grips the nape of his neck, pulling harshly on his short locks of hair. A breathy moan leaves his mouth as he is forced to look at her, his cheeks burning with humiliation.

“I said, look at me Shawn,“ she commands him, steel in her voice. His eyes open, looking up at his goddess of a girlfriend. Her fingers, buried in his curls, tighten their grip as she raises one eyebrow, suspicion in her eyes. Oh god, she can’t find out. She pulls on his hair and his mouth opens on a gasp, blood rushing to his cock. Shameful.

“Shawn… Do you like that?” she asks him. He tries to look away, but her grip only tightens. He bites his lip, trying desperately to contain the whimper of pleasure-pain.

“I asked you a question, boy. Do you like that?” The control in her voice sears his skin, and a flush spreads down his chest.

“I - I don’t,” he stutters. Her disbelieving stare embarrasses him all the more. She can’t know what a disgusting kink he has. How deeply disturbed he is. Disgraceful. Perverted.

“Do not lie to me, pet. Your cock is dripping all over the place.” Her matter of fact tone only adds to his embarrassment.

“I’m sorry love. I’ll leave, I promise just- don’t- please don’t tell anyone?” he begs as he makes to get up, only to have her tiny fist tangle in his hair and push him onto his knees again. He looks up at her, confusion swirling inside him.

“You’re not going anywhere Shawn. I didn’t give you permission to leave did I?” The velvet soft power of her voice turns his insides to liquid. His mouth parts on a silent plead.

“Tell me what you like, pet.”

“Don’t.“ He corrects himself, “Please don’t.”

What was he pleading for? For her to stop her torture or for her to continue the oh-so-good humiliation? His cheeks are burning, probably permanently stained red.

“I like- “He starts biting his tongue as she pulls on his hair again, bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. His eyes close as the shameful delight of pain coats his bones with a comforting warmth.

“You love pain,” she states flatly, with no room for argument. His eyes fly open, the warmth turning to ice, freezing him in place, choking him with fear. Revolting. Never would she be able to overlook the repulsive nature of his kink.

“Hey, hey, Shawn. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s a kink, it’s not the end of the world.” Genuine concern and confusion glaze her voice as she brings her hand under his chin, forcing him to look at her. “Darling what’s wrong?” Love, concern and pain are in her eyes; there is no hate, no disdain, no disgust. A sigh of relief rattles out of him as her thumb strokes his cheek in soothing circles.

“It’s mo- I like it- It’s more than just pain,“ he whispers. A fresh wave of red rushes to his cheeks at her questioning gaze.

“Maybe like- I think- uhm… humiliation,” he mumbles hurriedly, punching the words out, leaving them hanging in the room.

“Be more specific, pet. I need to know exactly what you like so that I know what to do,“ she answers. She’s kind and gentle and genuine; he’s surprised and shocked that she wants to know more.  

“Being told how needy I look… Biting, may- maybe scratching…” His voice wavers as he lets the heavy words settle.

“What about me being completely in control?” she asks, in a steady, soothing voice. He hesitates.

“Shawn.” He looks at her. Open, honest eyes beg him for the truth.

“I might… like it… And- and powerplay.” His brown eyes search her beautiful face for a trace of loathing. How could she simply be alright with this?

“What else, baby?” Comforting fingers carding through his hair, his heart rate finally slows just a bit. Thankfully she hasn’t run yet.

“Kneeling in front of you like this… completely naked while you are still wearing your underwear.” He lets out, trying to breathe properly. His courage sinks again as he realises he just confessed to all the nasty things he had only ever thought.

“Shawn. I love you. That won’t change because of some kink you have. I love you the way you are, pain kink and all. Do you trust me?” Her bright bright eyes study him carefully.

“I do.” He leans into her hand as it cups his cheek. The feel of his burning skin against her soft fingers calms the riot in his head.

“Good.” She takes a deep breath. “Now. I need to punish you for hiding this from me,” she teases, a small smile playing around her lips. He gulps as his cock hardens again. Her eyes drop to his crotch, chuckling at his quick reaction. She stands up, moving behind him. He tries to look at her but her hand tightening in his hair prevents it. Shawn feels her foot against his ass.

“Crawl towards the bed. Hands on the mattress.” Her controlled voice raises goosebumps on his skin. He is pressed against the bed. Her hand gently turns his head to the side and presses it forward into the mattress. Her fingers leave his hair, trailing down the nape of his neck, across his back. He fists the blanket, muscles bunching, trying to be as still as possible. Her fingernails rake down his back and a surprised moan leaves his lips, his hips jerking.

“Now. That is a beautiful sound, pet,“ she whispers appreciatively against his ear. She presses a little kiss above his ear and a breath wheezes out of him.

“Please.” He manages to choke the word out as her nails dig painfully, tantalizingly, into his back. A whine tumbles from his mouth. Shawn feels her lips curving into a smile against the shell of his ear. Precome dribbles from his cock, his eyes squeezing shut as she murmurs words of praise against his skin.

“Open your eyes Shawn.” His eyes half lidded when he manages to open them. Her right hand finds its way into his hair, twisting itself into the curls and pulling his face up a little. Her left hand moves to his throat, holding it in a comfortably tight grip. She tilts his head up, angling his face towards her. His lips are parted, swollen from biting them as he looks at her. Her left thumb presses into the plush flesh, his tongue hesitatingly licking her fingertip.

“My pretty boy,” she says, praise in her voice. Shawn preens under her words. He sighs, digging his fingers deeper into the blanket.

“Come on. Up you go on the bed.” Her low command resonates through his body. He scrabbles to his feet, lying down on the mattress, kicking the blanket into the corner. He looks at her expectantly. She bites her lip, trying to hide an amused smile.

“Grip the headboard for me,“ she orders as she pulls off her panties, the motion torturously slow. “Now, this is your punishment.” She unhooks her bra as she speaks. "You will not remove your hands from that headboard. You will not touch me; I won’t restrain you.” Her breasts are finally bare and he gulps, trying desperately to focus on her words. “If you disobey, I will stop and I will get myself off on your thigh. And you have to watch and stay hard and untouched. Do you understand pet?”

His hands fly to the headboard as he whimpers yes. She straddles him, her small fingers wrapping around his cock. Her nails not so accidentally scratch lightly down the length of it. His hands grip the bed, frantically trying to obey her rules. A moan punches out of him as she leans forward, her left hand burying itself into his shoulder muscles. Her nipples graze his heaving chest as she kisses his neck. Teeth and tongue, pain and pleasure, mixing into one breath-stealing combination. Whimpers and pleads tumble from his lips at his hips buck into her fist. Her lips move down his throat, a patchwork of bruises and bites blossoming on his skin. His back arches as she sucks a dark bruise next to his Adam’s apple. She moves down the column of his neck, sucking one more hickey at the base of throat.

“Mhm. All mine now,” she mumbles to herself, admiring her work, hickeys and bites covering his neck. Marking him as hers. A moan of her name spills from his mouth. His arms pulling at the headboard making it creak under his strength. She shuffles up his body, her thighs on either side of his face. His arms pressing into her soft skin, his fingers closing around the bars of the headboard convulsively.

“Do you think you deserve it? Do you deserve to eat my pussy Shawn?” She taunts him, his lips so so close to her.

“Yes, please- I’m good. I- please let me. Please let me make you come.” He pleads her. His cheeks turn red at the desperation in his voice.

“Alright pet. You’ve been good,“ she acknowledges as she lowers herself onto his mouth. His lips wrap around her clit, causing a shudder to go through her body. He sucks on the bud, his teeth occasionally grazing her, a sharp intake of breath her only response. He lets go of her clit, licking her pussy, his tongue entering her. Sweet delicious wetness coats his tongue. Her hand reaches into his hair, pulling on it as she rocks against his face. Small moans of praise and his name are his reward. Thrusting into her, he gets the most beautiful response from her. She throws her head back, tightening her grip on his hair, moaning his name. He feels her walls tightening around his tongue, his nose bumping against her pubic bone as she grinds on his face.

“Shawn. I’m-“ She moans as her orgasm takes her over. The hand in his hair tenses further, her nails scratching against his scalp, sparks of pain coursing down his spine. A strangled moan escapes him. She writhes on top of him, the vibrations of his moan traveling up her spine.

She remains on his face for a minute longer, catching her breath.

“You did great baby.” Her praise washes over him as she slowly moves down his body stopping when her wet pussy is resting against his abs. A tortured sigh leaves him at the feeling. She leans over him, reaching for the bedside table. Her delicious scent wafts over him, riling him up further. The tell-tale crinkling sound of the condom wrapper makes him turn his face into his arm. Too much. He needs to think. His eyes shoot open as he feels the latex glide down his shaft. God have mercy on him.

“You are doing wonderfully Shawn,” she tells him as she slowly lifts herself up. His cock nudges against her pussy. She is going kill him. She slowly sinks down onto him and his eyes roll back into his head. Her breath hitches almost inaudibly as he finally bottoms out. Her nails scrape his abdomen, leaving red scratches in their wake, his muscles tightening under her fingertips. She starts moving in slow figure eights, grinding against his crotch. His cock in a vice-like velvety grip. The wood creaks as he tightens his hold on the headboard further. He throws his head back, burying it into the pillow. Her hands digging into his flesh, bruising it delightfully, make moans fall freely from his lips. He is begging her for mercy, for more, for more pain. She rakes her nails down his torso, over his nipple, a loud whine punching out of him. He turns his face away from her, hiding in his arm.

“No Shawn. None of that.” She grabs his chin, forcing him to look at her. She bends forward, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth. Slowly pulling on it, gently biting down on it, he can only whimper at the excruciating pleasure of the pain. She rolls her hips forward, her walls tightening around him. Her pubic bone grinds against his skin. Her fluttering walls tense around him as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. He is so, so close.

“Please.” He begs her, struggling to get the word past his lips.

“Please what, pet?” she asks, rocking against him.

“Hurt me more,“ he pleads in a sigh, a fresh wave of heat making his cheeks flush. How could he ask for that?

She runs her nails across his nipple, pinching it between her nails. His hips buck into her as her pussy clenches around him. Her right hand travels up his torso as her left one remains firmly on his chest. She reaches the base of his throat, his eyes closing in anticipation. Small fingers wrap around his neck for the second time that night. Yes. He thrusts up into her as the pressure against his throat increases.

“Let me- please. Let me come,” he begs, a blush spreading down his chest.

“Come for me, pet,“ she murmurs under her breath. He tilts his head back, his mouth dropping open as his orgasm washes over him. A shattered moan punches out of him as he rides out his high. She rolls off of him, letting them catch their breath. She discards of the used condom in the bathroom, returning with a wet washcloth. She carefully cleans his face and his cock.

“You?” He croaks out, letting go of the headboard.          

“Already did it in the bathroom darling.” She smiles at him softly. A blush blossoms on his cheeks. How can he ask her to hurt him? God. He’s despicable.

“Shawn. Stop right now.” She sits on his chest again, forcing him to look at her. Her eyebrows furrow in anger and pain. He is revolting.

“Stop it, please. I love you the way you are Shawn! I couldn’t care less if you had a pain kink! I would still be with you if you had a foot fetish and could only fall asleep with my foot in your hands! I. Love. You,” she tells him, desperately looking into his eyes, begging him to see that she is telling the truth.

“Believe me. Please. I love you the way you are, kinks and all. And what does it say about me? Enjoying biting you and pulling your hair and hurting you. Doesn’t that make me a monster?” She speaks calmly, apparently unperturbed by this, but his eyes widen at her accusations.

“No! Never! Just because you like something doesn’t make you a…” Realisation dawns on him. Her beaming cheeky grin tells him she expected his answer. He rolls his eyes at her, pulling her down into a slow, lazy kiss. Her squeaked laugh of delight as he flips them over make him smile.

Maybe he isn’t that revolting