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I love storms—I just don’t like to be in them. I’d prefer to cuddle up under the blankets with a mug of tea and a book while listening to the rainfall.
mee too gurlll
“You’re a child rapist,” I say aloud, though he’s no longer capable of hearing me. “Like I’d let you live,” I finish on a laugh.
Period.
UNKNOWN: Sneaking off with random men, little mouse? If I catch his hands anywhere near you, they’ll end up in your mailbox by morning.
oh my
“Relax, I just want you to suck on it.” It takes several seconds for his words to process. To process that he didn’t pull the trigger, and I’m not dead. When they do, my eyes snap open, and I glare at him. “Why the fuc—” He taps the tip of the gun on my mouth, effectively cutting me off. The rest of my words dissipate as he slides the gun across my lips, as if he’s painting them with lipstick.
MOUTH TO THE FLOOR. HELLOOO?!?
Slowly, he works the gun inside me, drawing out both pleasure and pain. I clench my jaw, shuddering from his ministrations but refusing to make a sound. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
THE GASP I JUST LET OUT. OMGGGGGGG. HELLOOO?!
