#if someone cheated on cutthroat he wouldn't care...he might be upset for the moment but it doesn't break him long term

[hisredhysteria]

Blood in the Water.

[18+ MDNI]

Note: I guess this weekend is dedicated to Cutthroat...? This writing is what I was working on for myself as my (now late) birthday gift, so it's self indulgent. Since I post the wildest stuff anyways though, I thought maybe someone else wouldn't mind reading this. Even if it's 10 years from now....if you're reading this and my blog still exists in 10 years hi omg- I should add it's in my usual style so I kept the reader vague, it's not that kind of self-indulgent fic—

TW: There is no 'real smut' but it gets suggestive. blood, knives, implied murder or NSFW (depends how you choose to see it I guess... I chose to see it as murder and you may be able to tell by the way I wrote it, but rereading it....I could see how it might be taken in another way.) The reader is being threatened by a knife, so I will not call it knife play. However, I will warn that it sounds like that. So then I'd have to say noncon just in case.

Summary: You decide to take a bath ...and how dare you take one without Cutthroat.

Rainy days were when most nightmare inducing incidents at least threatened to occur. From soaking wet shoes to moist humid skin, frizzy and matted hair would seem so small by comparison. They were a day like any other however, even if it meant they were a little bit different.

An arm snaked around your waist while the two of you slept, it was all the comfort you could have hoped to ever ask for. Something that Cutthroat couldn't easily deny you of, it was just another luxury that came along with the innocent title marking you as his.

A precious angel.

Tugged in so close tonight that if he pressed into you a little further, your organs would simply pop from your mouth and sides, an unkind sickness bubbled from the whispering heat. It was delightfully suffocating, yet another thing you could rarely hope to bear. Sweat built, sticky through your clothes as the fire like warmth of his body pushed so far into your back. Breaking away from his iron like grasp was impossible, could you have even asked?

You laid with your head to the pillow, parting your lips for just another painful breath. Letting in a heavy inhale that must have caused him to stir, you shut your eyes tight with anticipation for the worst.

"Cutthroat..." Your throat unexpectedly sore, still happened to work.

"Hm..~?" A sleepy voice hummed back to you, his grasp only provoked to be at its strongest. Loosening to explore your body for just a second, you felt his bandaged hand sneak its way underneath the hem of your shirt. Lifting it, almost. With the expectation for his hand to slide across your stomach, or even just lay bare flat, it instead desperately grabbed at the waist of your shorts. It had been as if Cutthroat only knew what you were about to ask him. Sinking in your own ill feeling though, you had to bring yourself to do this.

"I'm not feeling too well... Can I go to the bathroom...?"

Silence never sat long around the Murderer, it wasn't something he preferred. His hands only tightened now, like he'd refuse to set you free.

"..But...the sun's not up yet.. If you go now, the bed will get cold...." Cutthroat's half-asleep voice whispered back in dismay, his own breath still hotter than his body against you.

"I'll be quick, I promise."

A barely audible gasp and you knew he just had to be smiling. How pretty the word promise was leaving your lovely, innocent lips. Begrudgingly still in his own right, Cutthroat allowed his hand to release and slip from your body. A growing ache only worsening as he did so.

"You really promise you won't be long...?" He asked, testing your honesty for himself.

"Of course."

A careful eye peeked open nonetheless at your words, Cutthroat wouldn't hold himself back from watching to make sure that you'd make it to the door okay. As you worked to stand up, the dizziness encountered from both heat and lack of eating that night hit you all at once and you stumbled to reach balance. Your body was sick with temperature, but it was kind enough to barely manage without plummeting straight to the floor.

Your hips bumped into the doorframe, and that was when you realized, this quick trip to the bathroom wasn't going to be as short as you swore with a promise. Head spinning to accompany your hazy vision, you placed a hand to it like there was some way your neck wasn't holding it in place quite right. Your hand wouldn't manage to hold it in place either though, and the only thing you could do was support yourself on the walls of the hall as you reached the bathroom at long last.

You slapped the dim light bulb on and wasted no time to click the door locked behind you. Hardly able to stop yourself from collapsing to the floor inside, you felt your eyes flutter like they did when you went in and out of a peaceful rest. A sigh left your lips before you'd allow your legs to rest on the cold ledge of the bathtub, so devious and white. Relief washing over you, a wandering glance couldn't be helped. Your eyes surveyed a shine, so beautiful the blinding glint to each handle bar of the tub happened to be. Swallowing hard at the knot in your stomach, your head grew with pressure as saliva slid down your throat.

"I know I said I'd be quick.." You murmured to yourself, predicting that any late appearance back to the bed next to Cutthroat would have been troublesome. "But, the worst he could do is follow me in here..."

Your thoughts weighed bricks as you fought with the idea of twisting the handles and pushing the tubs sprout down to fill a warm bath for yourself. If Cutthroat was asleep again, you could get away with it. But if he'd been awake, hearing the water run through the pipes was sure to elicit some sort of response. Be it good or bad.

Against your better judgement, a hand made contact with cool metal, so clean you could catch your reflection in it as if it'd been a mirror. Rotating it carefully at first, water drizzled from the faucet. Waiting a second, then just a few more, when Cutthroat didn't come to throw the door open, you figured yourself to be safe. A little farther this time, you turned the handle and a loud waterfall unlike any other began to spill into the empty tub. Watching it fill for a second after the sound enveloped the air, you stood to your shaky legs and slipped your clothes off. Moist with sweat soaking through from your skins rising temperature, the feeling was nearly abysmal.

Your shirt came off first, lifting it up then feeling hair fall flat back to your neck as the bottom came over your head. Next, your shorts. Slipping a finger into the hem that rested against your body, you tugged them down and off your legs, stepping out as you did so. Last were your remaining undergarments, so familiar to you that you might as well have forgotten you'd ever put them on to begin with.

Setting a foot into the waters surface, you sat opposite to the faucet, still hurrying to pour it's warm liquid into the bathtub. You'd been dangerously lightheaded, and with fear of the world swirling just a little faster, you let this bath be only a warm one.

Eventually it came time where the racing water filled so close to the brim from your distracted attention that you could ignore it no longer. Leaning in, your hand forced itself to turn each nozzle and beckon the water to a halt. A few more drizzles like rain starting to cry, small drops fell into the tub before it ceased to a complete stop. Finished with no interruptions, your hand drew back the long shower curtains to ensure an illusion of safety.

Relaxing now wasn't any word used to describe how your tense body felt leaning back against the slippery porcelain. Nonetheless, it was only slightly better than having to bear another tight hug from Cutthroat. Shifting lightly, you fluttered your eyes shut and drowned in the unpleasant feeling of your head pounding with ache. The pressure at your temples was unforgiving, almost as much as how uncomfortable you were being forced to endure your bodies own agony. A soft whimper emitting from your lips, your heart would begin to do a routine as creaks in the walls became too close for comfort.

"It's just your imagination.." You whispered, your own attempts to console yourself being very hard to prove successful. Tingles shot down your spine, a foreign feeling for the warm water that surrounded you. Something felt a little amiss, but to point your finger at it was a little too real. So real, that perhaps this imagination of yours was a dream. A nightmare your weary body went through when you began to doze off like a sleepy child.

In and out of your dazed like state, wind whistled through the cracks of the bathroom window hardly ajar behind it's curtains. An echo bounced through your ears, harsher and more deafening the longer you left it to linger. As if a ghost was trying to break down the walls and tell you something, your eyes ripped back open at a bang slapping against a hard surface. An observation dropped with horror unmatched as you forgot any aches and pains to glare through the translucent shower curtains. The bathroom door flat against the wall Cutthroat threw it against, you shivered.

"Oh...that was easier than I thought..." He noted, peeking inside the small room to catch your frame hidden behind see through curtains. How rude it was of you not to invite him, and how much ruder it was to have not invited him to a party this thrilling.

Eyeing your disregarded clothing sprawled across the bathroom rug, Cutthroat's interest only piqued. His lips pursed softly, bending down now to glance at you through the mere plastic sheet you felt a deceitful safety behind.

"Can I join~?" He hummed, forgetting any promises you made to make it back to the bed in a timely manner. Had he found you doing just about anything other than sitting in the water of a bath right now, surely he'd have been just a little more hurt.

A treacherous route to take—permitting him to submerge within the same water as you—your glance only shifted and your shoulders barely shrugged. It wasn't as though you weren't sure if he could join, it was that you weren't too sure if he should join. Nevertheless, what would happen if you tested him with the refusal of a simple no? Perhaps a long winded explanation could further deter him as he grew impatient with boredom.

"I don't mind..."

"Ah-! Good choice..! I knew my angel wouldn't...~"

It was all you had to say because in the end, a "no" would have never worked on Cutthroat to begin with.

Watching his taller frame further enter the bathroom and close the door, a sense of feeling trapped threw you off. Your mouth acted like it was ready to ask him why he felt the need to shut it, even when he often liked to leave it how it was when he opened it. You shut your mouth however, and figured he had a reason.

Half expecting him to pull the curtains back and indulge within this experience fully clothed, Cutthroat wasn't going to waste an opportunity to feel closer to his angel than he already was. Fumbling with the buttons on his white pajama top with you still avoiding eye contact, he gave a frustrated hum like they held a grudge against his fingers.

"Come on.... I can't do it..." He fussed, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at the buttons. Smug soon there after as he remembered who he was in the room with. "...But maybe my angels touch can do the trick?"

An obvious scheme to get closer to you, a trick that you left to fly straight over your dizzy head for the moment. You being the angel he spoke about, Cutthroat's hand pulled back the shower curtain as he politely peeked into the small enclosure you had for yourself.

"Come closer then.." You answered his request too kindly, watching his lovely features light up with an excitement enough to make your heart pound faster. Reeling the curtains to the side, he knelt down to the edge of the tub, allowing you an easier reach. Doing so, you'd expect your eyes to have met his at least once or twice with a tension building awkwardness. Oddly enough though, his entranced eyes were fixated on something above your head, like you had birds circling above you at all times.

Working down the buttons and stumbling across a few with a shaky and sick hand, eventually when you got halfway down, something loud and ear piercing slammed against the floor.

"Oh no, there goes my knife...." Your partner blinked, seemingly upset for the edge to become duller from a blunt impact against its blade. If he hadn't expected that, then what exactly was the knife doing up his pajama shirt in the first place..?

"Cutthroat.." You whispered, his eyes widening at the sweet tone you hit him with. "Put it on the sink."

The instructions weren't a surprise, at least not to yourself. Though, Cutthroat wouldn't let something so out of place for him happen.

"Can't I leave it on the bathtub side instead..?" He whined back, a compromise he'd hope was acceptable to you. Especially given that it was where he'd place it if you hadn't caught him with it.

Apprehensive, you agreed with a small, "fine" seeing as the look on his face wasn't something to easily argue with.

Grabbing the knife as you finished unbuttoning his top, he placed it on the very edge of the tub next to you. Shampoo bottles and every other kind of body cleansing container laid by it.

"There." You flashed him a weak smile, watching him straighten up and slip the top off each of his arms. Letting it fall to the floor on top of your own clothing, he wasted little time with his own pants and undergarments as well. Hard not to catch his eye or let him clue in on the fact that you were even threatening to look towards his bare body, Cutthroat's foot broke the equilibrium of the peaceful bath water.

An "ah..~", left his pleased lips as the surface made contact with pale skin. On the opposite side he chose to sit of you, legs close to your own. Almost like they fit into a puzzle, the stance was so intimate that his own cheeks would dust themselves in an arousing pink. Eyes filled to their maximum with your glowing beauty, a mischievous glint at the sight of you was something Cutthroat didn't dare to hide. A fool would have thought he'd sit so still with you in the tub across from him because that's exactly what he didn't do.

"Where are the bubbles..?" He asked, scanning around as his finger swirled itself amongst the clearness. Daring to dip in a whole hand and watch it drain from his grasp and back into the tub, Cutthroat shot you a suddenly bored glare.

"Isn't water its prettiest when it's clear?" You challenged, leaning your leg against his own when your body finally decided to loosen up.

Enlightened perhaps, his eyebrow cocked down at the water, then your leg touching his. He couldn't find himself to argue with your truthful observation as his own leg pressed further into yours in response.

"Huh, I suppose it is then..."

Again, your eyes shut and your back gently pushed itself into the end side of the tub. Feeling safer with every moment passed where Cutthroat didn't initiate anything, the sound of a bottle popping and releasing pent up air caused you to jump. In the split second after, your consent wasn't necessary as a hand began to rub at the skin of your leg. One eye opening to see what you were feeling, Cutthroat had been lathering soap into you with just his bare hand.

How strange.

His touch wasn't the most delicate, but it wasn't at all an unpleasant feeling. At least, your heart wouldn't tell you that was so.

"Wouldn't a wash cloth be more sanitary...?" You asked, blinking down at his hand. Eyes widening at the soaking bandages he seemed to refuse taking off even in the tub, you frowned. Sighing too, you leaned back up and put out an empty hand like you'd been waiting for him to place something in it.

"Hm, why the hand?" Stopping the lathering of soap across your sensitive skin, Cutthroat most nearly seemed confused by the gesture you had yet to explain.

"Your arm will chafe underneath your bandages if you don't take them off in the water. I thought I told you that..."

Still, his eyes looked at you. It would have been ignored had anyone else brought this up to him, but because it was someone as special to him as you were, he set his arm into your hand and waited for you to pull at the wet cloth hiding his skin. Again to add, he was impatient. Had it taken a stranger to work this long on him, Cutthroat would have already pulled away. However, he was nearly entranced by the way your fingers slipped between the crevices and worked to rip the bandages off of him entirely.

"Feel better?" You asked, discarding the soggy mess of entanglements to the tubs side temporarily. Glaring at his hand and lifting it up as if he'd never seen what it looked like underneath, his vision skewed from it's focus to center on something above your head again. If a small gasp was any indication that he'd been seeing something you couldn't, then perhaps each one should have alarmed you further.

"What is it..?" Unaware, of what swirled on top of you, you questioned him. His hand dropped and enchantment fell upon him at your presence. If... it hadn't done so already.

"Can I come closer?" He asked, a smile on his lips for he'd already started to lean in without your permission.

Flustered, your back pushed further into the white porcelain behind you. Not hard enough to disturb your body, but just hard enough so that you were no longer comfortable. Opening your mouth to speak, the sound of water shifting and spilling back into itself filled the air as Cutthroat moved into a position to accommodate his intentions. Pulling your legs in and allowing him more room to move as he pleased, you really were absolutely no help to your own pending fate.

His own legs now pressed into yours as if they weren't close enough to you previously, you were most nearly being straddled in place underneath his wet body. Streaming water dripping back into the tub from Cutthroat's stance, you got quite the front row seat of just everything he had to offer. If you hadn't been so fearful that he'd sink you by your shoulders and drown you into the tub, appreciating him would have been more possible.

"What are you doing?" You asked, so late that not even a tardy slip should have been able to excuse this.

"..Getting closer...I can't touch you when you're so far..."

It was an interesting thing for the Murderer to say, given that in a tub meant for one, you were already as many as two. His excuse to come closer wasn't too uninvited, despite all your uneasiness. Your heart would hate to inform you though, that his lips were tracing the skin of your neck.

Unsure of how to feel from the closeness at which he came, you couldn't miss the screeching sound of a knife being slid across the ledge of the tub he set it on. To help himself now was his pleasure, and with you beneath him there was little chance for your escape.

Sicker than before, a horrific feeling set at the deathly cold blade. Skimming across the skin of your collarbone, his hot breath whispered love with it.

"You'll finally belong to me now.."

Eyes growing wide at the unfair statement, you felt your legs begin to shake.

"I what ...?" You whispered back, tilting from the blades end. His motive remaining almost unclear.

For the sharp blade now beginning to tease your wet skin, pain would eventually destroy reality. Slowly sliding the tip of his dagger into your desperate body, soft moaning cries became music to his ears. In love to the point of madness, Cutthroat took careful time to not split any veins. You had to last as long as he could drag it out, and where the time between life and death could have been your chance, you simply missed it from a presumed lustful dance.

Now how selfish was it of him to watch your blood splutter like paint across the porcelain white? How much more fair was the way he watched his own fingers smear it like thin syrup into a print with the wall behind you? The surface of bath water unbalanced, crimson rocked within it, back and forth to its sides.