(no subject)
COMM: shifted_prompts - no-risk handcuffs
VERSE: realityshifted
WORD COUNT: 1242
NOTE: I WRITE TERRIBLE SEX SCENES.
The cold metal of the handcuffs bit tightly into his wrists, but he didn't particularly care. It was all just part of a game he was indulging in with a fan he had slept with a few times before. She was a nice enough girl and she was a face he saw often in the front row of concerts (it was amazing she was still alive and unmaimed). And this was her thing. He wasn't not into it, so he figured, what the hell. Do something a bit different.
So she cuffed him to the bed, which normally wouldn't have been a problem - he figured he could like, break out of them if he wanted - but it seemed she accounted for his strength. Those things weren't going to budge without a key. But it was okay. The keys were over there, she'd let him out when they were done. He just couldn't have the fun of breaking them.
She giggled from atop him, and tossed her wild red hair back. "Hey, Nathan... did you know," she said as she slid down on his cock, "I used to be a police officer?"
That was one annoying thing. She loved to talk about some of the most mundane shit in the middle of sex. Granted he wasn't a big fan of girls acting like they were starring in a porno, shouting out lines you'd expect in there, but jesus christ. Who gave a shit about whether or not you were a cop? "Oh, yeah?" He half played along, thrusting up into her as she rode him. It wasn't like there was a ton else he could do, seeing as he was fucking handcuffed to the bed.
"Mhmmmmmm. It's why I knew the perfect handcuffs for you..." She leaned down, but just out of his reach; her hair slipping over her naked shoulder and pooling just slightly next to his head. She smiled wickedly down at him, her dark green eyes glinting with a certain mischievousness. "Strong enough so they wouldn't break." She ran a finger over his lips.
He smirked and bit at it, catching her finger just right to pierce the skin on his canines. She didn't draw away immediately; she let blood drip onto his lips before she pulled her hand back to her mouth. She slowly licked the length of her finger, her expression coy and teasing as she cleaned the thin rivulet of blood.
Finally she leaned down all the way, and he jerked his upper body up as much as he could to catch her in a rough kiss. He would have to make a note afterward not to do this again, handcuffs made this so fucking boring on his end. She was doing most of the work anyway-
The roughness was returned full force; she knotted her fingers in his hair, smearing still flowing blood in it. He could faintly taste the copper of it in her mouth, and as if obliging a thought he had yet to come to, she opened her mouth just slightly. He slipped his tongue in her mouth, running it along her teeth. The taste of copper seemed to amplify now, as if she had chugged a gallon of blood and most of it was still, you know, sloshing around in there all gross like.
He was probably imagining it out of sheer boredom, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to only vaguely pay attention to the rhythm of her body with his. She bit slightly down on his tongue, raking her teeth across it. It felt a bit more awkward than normal, like her teeth were sharper, or there were more than normal, but he let the thought drift away. No weird thoughts were allowed to interrupt him fucking some chick. Or her fucking him, whichever the proper usage was in this situation. Sex was going on. There.
Their pace began to quicken; he could hear her pant, and her fingers gripped his shoulders. She had never gripped him that tightly before, and normally he would have been able to ignore it, but the grip got tighter. Tighter. Tighter. Then it started to actually hurt; he could feel fingernails digging deep into his skin, tearing it. No way, that was not particularly one of his things, so he opened his eyes and was in the middle of telling her to cut it out when he noticed something.
He was staring into brown eyes. Unsettling brown eyes (he couldn't figure out what was bothering him, they were brown, brown was a normal color, but there was something odd, something downright fucking weird). She didn't have brown eyes. She had green eyes. Everyone had green eyes, including her.
"Hello, Nathan," said the man- the man? what? - on top of him. His grin spread wide, exposing teeth that seemed unnaturally white. He stared in bafflement. What the hell was going on, why was there a naked man on top of him, where had the chick he was with gone, why the hell did it seem like the guy had fucking multiple rows of teeth oh dear sweet lord was he tripping balls.
The man opened his mouth far wider than he should have been able, and from it came a deep, monstrous rumble which quickly turned into a devastating roar right in his face. That was enough to snap him out of his stunned confusion, and Nathan's face contorted into anger and rage.
"Get the fuck off me!" He bellowed, using all his strength to try surge upwards to smash his forehead into the face of the man on top of him. The handcuffs held tight, but his momentum sent him forward; his skull cracking firmly onto the nose of the guy currently mounted on him. Blood poured from the guy's nose. Nathan's wrists screamed in agony over his choice of actions (he was certain the metal must've cut through the skin now).
Then... there was crying. Not the sound of a man who had been wounded to the point of tears, but of a woman confused and hurt with no clear reasoning. The man was gone. In his place was Tiffany, former cop, Dethklok fan, frequent lay of Nathan Explosion. Blood gushed from her nose and she covered it desperately, as if somehow that could stop the bleeding. He only caught one look from her, one of accusing betrayal, before she clambered off of him.
Nathan stared blankly at her as she ran naked out of his room. His chest was covered in her blood; he had really done a number to her. But he hadn't done anything to her. He didn't headbutt her, he knew that. She was fucking gone! It was someone else!
He laid there on the bed, his wrists aching, his boner unsure if it should go away due to the immense confusion or stick around to see if anything would continue. Dicks were totally weird in having minds of their own sometimes, just saying. He hadn't been seeing things, had he? Nathan exhaled harshly and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
Great. She wouldn't be coming back, he knew it. And he was still stuck to the bed. He was not looking forward to explaining to whoever found him and let him out of the cuffs what went on. Nathan was certain there was no possible way to say it without sounding like he had completely flipped out.
"Fuck. Somebody better fucking get me out soon, I swear to god..."
VERSE: realityshifted
WORD COUNT: 1242
NOTE: I WRITE TERRIBLE SEX SCENES.
The cold metal of the handcuffs bit tightly into his wrists, but he didn't particularly care. It was all just part of a game he was indulging in with a fan he had slept with a few times before. She was a nice enough girl and she was a face he saw often in the front row of concerts (it was amazing she was still alive and unmaimed). And this was her thing. He wasn't not into it, so he figured, what the hell. Do something a bit different.
So she cuffed him to the bed, which normally wouldn't have been a problem - he figured he could like, break out of them if he wanted - but it seemed she accounted for his strength. Those things weren't going to budge without a key. But it was okay. The keys were over there, she'd let him out when they were done. He just couldn't have the fun of breaking them.
She giggled from atop him, and tossed her wild red hair back. "Hey, Nathan... did you know," she said as she slid down on his cock, "I used to be a police officer?"
That was one annoying thing. She loved to talk about some of the most mundane shit in the middle of sex. Granted he wasn't a big fan of girls acting like they were starring in a porno, shouting out lines you'd expect in there, but jesus christ. Who gave a shit about whether or not you were a cop? "Oh, yeah?" He half played along, thrusting up into her as she rode him. It wasn't like there was a ton else he could do, seeing as he was fucking handcuffed to the bed.
"Mhmmmmmm. It's why I knew the perfect handcuffs for you..." She leaned down, but just out of his reach; her hair slipping over her naked shoulder and pooling just slightly next to his head. She smiled wickedly down at him, her dark green eyes glinting with a certain mischievousness. "Strong enough so they wouldn't break." She ran a finger over his lips.
He smirked and bit at it, catching her finger just right to pierce the skin on his canines. She didn't draw away immediately; she let blood drip onto his lips before she pulled her hand back to her mouth. She slowly licked the length of her finger, her expression coy and teasing as she cleaned the thin rivulet of blood.
Finally she leaned down all the way, and he jerked his upper body up as much as he could to catch her in a rough kiss. He would have to make a note afterward not to do this again, handcuffs made this so fucking boring on his end. She was doing most of the work anyway-
The roughness was returned full force; she knotted her fingers in his hair, smearing still flowing blood in it. He could faintly taste the copper of it in her mouth, and as if obliging a thought he had yet to come to, she opened her mouth just slightly. He slipped his tongue in her mouth, running it along her teeth. The taste of copper seemed to amplify now, as if she had chugged a gallon of blood and most of it was still, you know, sloshing around in there all gross like.
He was probably imagining it out of sheer boredom, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to only vaguely pay attention to the rhythm of her body with his. She bit slightly down on his tongue, raking her teeth across it. It felt a bit more awkward than normal, like her teeth were sharper, or there were more than normal, but he let the thought drift away. No weird thoughts were allowed to interrupt him fucking some chick. Or her fucking him, whichever the proper usage was in this situation. Sex was going on. There.
Their pace began to quicken; he could hear her pant, and her fingers gripped his shoulders. She had never gripped him that tightly before, and normally he would have been able to ignore it, but the grip got tighter. Tighter. Tighter. Then it started to actually hurt; he could feel fingernails digging deep into his skin, tearing it. No way, that was not particularly one of his things, so he opened his eyes and was in the middle of telling her to cut it out when he noticed something.
He was staring into brown eyes. Unsettling brown eyes (he couldn't figure out what was bothering him, they were brown, brown was a normal color, but there was something odd, something downright fucking weird). She didn't have brown eyes. She had green eyes. Everyone had green eyes, including her.
"Hello, Nathan," said the man- the man? what? - on top of him. His grin spread wide, exposing teeth that seemed unnaturally white. He stared in bafflement. What the hell was going on, why was there a naked man on top of him, where had the chick he was with gone, why the hell did it seem like the guy had fucking multiple rows of teeth oh dear sweet lord was he tripping balls.
The man opened his mouth far wider than he should have been able, and from it came a deep, monstrous rumble which quickly turned into a devastating roar right in his face. That was enough to snap him out of his stunned confusion, and Nathan's face contorted into anger and rage.
"Get the fuck off me!" He bellowed, using all his strength to try surge upwards to smash his forehead into the face of the man on top of him. The handcuffs held tight, but his momentum sent him forward; his skull cracking firmly onto the nose of the guy currently mounted on him. Blood poured from the guy's nose. Nathan's wrists screamed in agony over his choice of actions (he was certain the metal must've cut through the skin now).
Then... there was crying. Not the sound of a man who had been wounded to the point of tears, but of a woman confused and hurt with no clear reasoning. The man was gone. In his place was Tiffany, former cop, Dethklok fan, frequent lay of Nathan Explosion. Blood gushed from her nose and she covered it desperately, as if somehow that could stop the bleeding. He only caught one look from her, one of accusing betrayal, before she clambered off of him.
Nathan stared blankly at her as she ran naked out of his room. His chest was covered in her blood; he had really done a number to her. But he hadn't done anything to her. He didn't headbutt her, he knew that. She was fucking gone! It was someone else!
He laid there on the bed, his wrists aching, his boner unsure if it should go away due to the immense confusion or stick around to see if anything would continue. Dicks were totally weird in having minds of their own sometimes, just saying. He hadn't been seeing things, had he? Nathan exhaled harshly and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
Great. She wouldn't be coming back, he knew it. And he was still stuck to the bed. He was not looking forward to explaining to whoever found him and let him out of the cuffs what went on. Nathan was certain there was no possible way to say it without sounding like he had completely flipped out.
"Fuck. Somebody better fucking get me out soon, I swear to god..."