𝖂𝖚𝖑𝖋

It's not my fault, I was holding this lead pipe and your head was begging to be smashed in

please lick my knife blade

wanna be texting you, telling you i’ll “come over in the morning. just leave the door unlocked for me”. but really, you wake up in the middle of the night to me standing over you, already unbuckling my pants.

btw if i say ur mine it means ur fucking mine

sitting on his pretty face with my fingers tangled in his hair and using his tongue like my personal toy to grind on

i want to carve my name in places others could only dream of touching.

would love to have someone begging, pleading for me to fuck em. rubbing their thighs together like a bitch in heat beneath me. begging, to incoherent babbling, to pitiful whimpering as I tease their body all over. and when I have them right where I want them — a drained and desperate mess — I'll unsheathe my knife and tell them to prove it to me. prove how much you want it. because if you really fucking want it, you'll carve my name into those pretty thighs of yours. nice and deep.

i think there's a fine line between sex and murder, and buddy, im crossing it