Corey Cunningham ❪ Oneshots ❫

stay ( 🔪 )

Summary: Corey comes home covered in injuries and reader begs for answers but doesn't receive any. Instead, reader suggests that he clean himself up with a shower and he suggests that she joins him.

Content warning: fem!reader. fingering. oral sex (female receiving). unprotected sex. mentions of blood/cuts/bruises. aftercare scene included.

please proceed only if you're okay with the content described.

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The clock ticks as each second passes, each second that I wait for my boyfriend to get home.

I had no idea where Corey disappeared to at night, he never had a sufficient answer to give me. Same went for the the cuts and bruises that scattered his skin.

I didn't want to believe that the boy I loved was capable of anything past hurting a fly. He never showed me anything that would indicate otherwise.

Tonight was supposed to be special. I laid in our bed in his favorite lingerie set that I own, a silk robe wrapped around me. I wanted to surprise him and I hadn't anticipated that he would arrive hours late.

The front door slammed and heavy footsteps could be heard treading up the stairs.

"Corey?" I call out, sitting up in our bed and approaching the door. "Is that you?"

"Don't come out," Corey responded, his voice rough and low. He proceeded to walk into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

I disobeyed his orders and pressed my ear against the door, listening in. By the noise, I assumed he was undressing himself and I could only conclude that his late night rendezvous were the reason as to why he groaned in pain with each move he made.

I knocked roughly. "Corey, open the fucking door. How do you expect me to turn a blind eye to all of this? You come home with new bruises all over your body, blood and dirt staining you—"

"Baby, please, just go back to bed," Corey's voice was soft yet demanding. almost as if he wasn't trying to lose his cool with me.

I dig my fingernails into my palms as I turn the doorknob, realizing that it's locked. "Fine. Do whatever you want, you're sleeping on the fucking couch!"

I turn around and take one step down the staircase. The bathroom door swings open and Corey stands in view, his cheek cut open and dried blood crowding his nose.

"What the hell?" I exclaim, rushing back to meet him. My hands trace his cheek, his jaw tenses as he takes in the pain.

Corey's eyes were dark and crazed. He looked at me like an animal does its prey, at least that's what I'd assume it looked like.

"I'm fine... I just needed to clear my head," Corey whispers. His hands make his way around my waist, pulling me into his frame.

I'm hesitant to touch him, not wanting to injure him in any way. "Fine. I won't ask any questions right now.. just—just get cleaned up."

I turn away on route to our bedroom, but his grip tightens on my waist. "Stay," he murmurs.

"Fine."

Corey pulls me into the bathroom and slams the door behind us by pressing me into it. I instinctively wrap my legs around his exposed waist as his lips drag from my jawline to my collarbone. He uses his teeth to leave love bites along my skin and I let out soft moans in response.