idkwhatthisisbuthere

[idkwhatthisisbuthere]

Nazareth

This is...something. Read the warnings!!!! Very dark!

TW: Mention of domestic abuse, p in v sex, aggression, angst, rough sex, HELD AT GUN POINT...idk what else to add

Another argument that had went too far.  Slaps, shoves, hits.  Your face was just as marked as his was.  You had went into the bathroom and were washing the brown, dried blood that had dripped from your nose onto your top lip.  You knew the two of you were toxic.  No healthy relationship had these types of spats.  You looked up as the bathroom door swung open, spitting a bit of blood in the sink, your eyes drifting back down to watch as the water washed the evidence away.

“You think you’re leaving me?” Vessel laughed, voice deep and taunting. 

You silently stared at him, making no movement, but the burning in your stomach had started long before he walked in.  Maybe it was sick of you to get off on the pain, but the make up sex was always better when you made each other bleed.  He stood behind you, bare chest covered in your scratches.  A hand on either side of the sink, caging you in as he dropped his head down to your shoulder.  You watched in the mirror as he pulled the glock out of the back of his jeans, your mouth running dry. 

He sat it down in front of you, resting it on the lip sink, dark eyes watching your every move.  He laughed darkly when he felt you tense up, knowing your eyes went to the safety, seeing it unlocked.  The glock was loaded and pointing straight at you no further than an inch away. “When are you going to learn, love?” He sighed. His fingers dipped into the front of your shorts, finding you pantie-less.  He hummed to himself when his fingers glided through your slit, finding you nearly pulsing with just the gentlest tease.  He pressed his busted nose behind your ear, his free hand coming to cup your jaw as he continued to tease your swollen clit. “You’re fucked up, you know that?” He panted against your ear, “Never get this wet until we’re beating the shit out of each other.”

“I hate you,” you started to say but were cut off by him shoving his fingers in your mouth.  “Yeah?” He laughed, doubling his stance as you tried to fight him off of you, “You hate me?...pussy says otherwise, sweetheart.  Begging me to fuck you, aren’t you?”

He laughed when you clenched around his fingers, a soft moan falling from your stuffed mouth.  Just as you were getting close, he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving a trail of your arousal over your hip as he stepped back just a bit to unbuckle his belt.  Your hands flew to your pants, matching the urgency of him to shove them to your knees.  Within one thrust, he was inside of you.  You gripped the sink as you felt him stretching you out, the dull ache of absolutely no prep for his size.  His hands slid down over your body, and then back up to grip your hair in his hands and jerk your head backwards, your neck bowing out sharp as he used your hair as leverage.  You caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror – still angry, still bloody, but the sick part of you only got wetter. 

“I could do it, you know.”  He said after a few minutes of roughly pounding into you, “Blow your fucking brains out right here, couldn’t I?” He hissed as you clenched him impossibly tight, his jaw going slack as he felt the gush of arousal dripping down the inside of both of your thighs.  He pulled you tight up against him, anchoring a arm around your throat as he brought the gun up to your temple and pressed the barrel in.  Staring in the mirror, you didn’t recognize either of you.   Your face was a mix of fear and arousal, while his had went stone cold and rigid, except for a few grunts as he thrust his hips against yours. “You drive me this fucking crazy,” he said through gritted teeth as he squeezed his arm tighter, “I could fucking end you right here and you know it.  You love it, don’t you? Fucking whore.  I knew you were always crazy.” All you could do was grind yourself back against him, craving him deeper.  As the tip of his cock brushed that needy part inside of you, your thighs trembled a bit and he laughed darkly, staring at your reflection in the mirror.  He thought you looked beautiful like this – both of you did.  Bloodied, beaten, needy.  Blissfully fucked out.

“Open your mouth,” he panted lowly in your ear.

The feeling of cold steel metal raking across your teeth was unpleasant, but the taste nearly made you gag.  Soot was not delicious and a  smokey taste coated your tongue as you retched around the barrel.  He slid it in entirely until the trigger was resting against your chin.  He moaned softly into your ear as he felt your pussy throb around him.  He hadn’t even touched your clit and you were already close.

“Look at you,” he said in your ear, “Fucking beautiful for me, baby.  You don’t know how much I love you, do you? I love you enough to fuckin’ do it.  Threaten to leave me again and I’ll pull the trigger.  You know that, don’t you? You fuckin’ hear me?” You tried to nod, but you between the gun in your mouth and his arm wrapped around your throat, you were immobile.  He groaned, dropping his arm from your neck down between your legs, nimble fingers finding your throbbing clit.  You were gone in seconds, stumbling over the edge.  He dropped the gun to the side, using his now free hand to keep you centered, as he used your nearly limp body to get himself off.  You were exhausted – between the mentally taxing arguments and sex, your legs carried you to bed before your mind had caught up.  He collapsed beside of you, just as equally exhausted.  You were awake long enough to get a good look of his face – busted and bloodied, much like your own, but that would be tomorrow’s issue.