ERARARSRETEYEIGIHIDKG - Tumblr Posts
thinking several thoughts…. i need to be put down.
sub!ellie + knife play (but it's that pocket knife she always carries around) would be insanityyyyy
a/n: first try at writing a knife play blurb.. my condolences if it's booty water.. warnings: consenting knife play (duh), cutting, drawing blood, subtle threats, allusion to clit stim. please proceed with caution. mdni.
i think the nuance in using her pocket knife instead of any other one is that it is unique to ellie; bound to her, therefore always lingering in her pocket. how this changes the game of blood and blade, lies in the introduction. being on top of ellie; eg. straddling, hovering, keeping her under you at all costs, her attention tip-toeing on broken glass, and her waist bare. of course, ordering her to watch you prudently retreieve it from that back pocket of hers is a part of the play. the cautious speeds remind her of a predator. she loves it.
the cold steel only ever caresses her abdomen. limning journies around her navel in search of a spot—a sensitive spot that makes her shiver. anxious. you tip the blade into an inclined part of her stomach that sucks in as it meets; ellie becomes frightened there, stifled there. practically every inhale was met with pressure from the blade. her eyelids slam shut, lips shape around a gasp, and it invokes you. her delicateness drives you up the wall. vulgar temptation.
“hey—look at me,” you ask firmly, stilling the blade on her stomach. it begins a rapid rise and fall of threatened breaths when she restores eye contact. she feels faint, decrepit of air; her adrenaline is swelled. ellie digs into the sheets when you reiterate, “'nough of that, yeah? you know what happens when you close your eyes, right baby?” and it sends a gulp hurling down her precious throat, front of it bobbing—a knowing gulp. blood has penetrated your desire, and her knife goes fufilling it. “seems you do. be a good girl and stay still then.”
your voice was too angel-sweet for you to be pressing the blade in and stinging her with pain. sacred pain her lips press into a strong line for. “fuck!” she releases in a whispered blurt, teeth bared, tears threatening to trickle. one does, and you lift her chin with the knife to inspect, glass-eyed glances darting around your face for something—approval, or validation, anything. ellie hopes you notice how fucking wet it made her. poor clit rubbing on your inattentive thigh, you just have to.
“liked that, huh?” the question is given immediate nods, the eager, freckled girl under you tasting her own tear as she grins. it drops when slow scraping and a lift of her panty waistband intrigues her to look. you have noticed. “want them on your hips, ellie? maybe—right next to that pretty pussy?” the idea excites her. it's almost as if her thighs just blossom open on their own; imploring you to engrave, and satiate that annoying throb.