mnhinjurylawyersab

[vellichorsdesire]

hi you guys… look at this gay slug i bought today. i think f/o would like it very much

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: (lil backstory) you and Rafe have been a couple since day one and are pretty closed off but a new bombshell has come and chose Rafe for a date and now it’s time for her to choose who she wants to couple up with.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2,070

A/n: Inspired by the whole ordeal between rob liv and leah in love island usa lol

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

The villa was buzzing with the usual pre-recoupling jitters, and as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup, you heard Rafe’s voice echo down the hallway. “Babe,” he called out, his tone relaxed yet filled with that casual affection you’d grown to love. “Yeah, I’m in here!” you responded, smiling to yourself.

Through the mirror, you caught the familiar image of him entering, his sandy-blonde hair tousled, sun-kissed skin accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Your eyes met in the mirror, and the edges of his mouth softened into a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer and bending down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering just long enough to make you feel like he was truly checking in. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a playful glint. He watched your reflection intently, as if trying to read your every expression.

“Just making sure,” he murmured, pulling a chair up beside yours. He settled in, crossing his arms, his gaze steady as he watched you apply the last bit of powder. You raised an eyebrow, feigning a casual tone. “Why? Should I be worried? Is there something you’re not telling me about your date with Kayla?” You smirked, trying to keep it light, but deep down, you were fishing for any reassurance you could get.

His hand found its way to your thigh, his grip warm and reassuring as his thumb brushed soothing circles. “No, of course not,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “I told you everything, and, honestly, I don’t think she’ll pick me. We don’t have that spark—you and I do, though, yeah?” His eyes held yours, his expression open and genuine.

His gaze was steady, his smile reassuring, and despite the flicker of insecurity, you let out a slow breath, his words sinking in and soothing the lingering doubts in the back of your mind. “Okay,” you said finally, a genuine smile breaking through as he chuckled.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, leaning in to press a series of soft kisses along your bare shoulder making you giggle, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that he seemed to crave as he pulled back, grinning. “What are you wearing tonight?” he asked, scanning the room with an approving gaze as his eyes landed on the green dress you’d laid out on the armchair nearby.

“That one.” You nodded toward the dress, and he hummed, his smile widening in approval. “Good choice. It’s gonna drive the others crazy.” “Glad you think so,” you replied, warmth creeping into your cheeks as you noticed the way he looked at you—like you were the only person who existed.

“Well, I’ll let you get ready,” he said, standing up and moving behind you. Through the mirror, you caught yourself staring. How could you not when Rafe looked so... edible. He met your gaze in the mirror, catching your look, and smirked. “Like what you see, Mrs. Cameron?” he teased, his voice dropping to a playful, almost dangerous tone that made you laugh.

“Very much,” you replied, tilting your head back as he leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss that was both soft and full of promise, a reminder of the bond that the two of you had since day one. But before things could get too heated, you gently placed a hand on his jaw, pushing him back with a giggle.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he said, chuckling as he stepped back. Before he could leave, the door opened, and you both turned to see Kayla enter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Rafe. “Hey,” Rafe greeted her casually, his tone polite but distant. You watched them exchange brief smiles before looking away, busying yourself with your lip gloss as Kayla approached her drawers.

“Hey, Y/n,” she greeted you brightly, her tone friendly as she settled beside you. “Hey,” you replied with a polite smile. “Excited for tonight?” “Oh, definitely!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m so ready to sleep next to someone again; it’s been way too long.” She giggled, and you chuckled in response, keeping the mood light even as you fought off a pang of unease.

“Do you know who you’re choosing?” you asked, carefully applying your lip gloss as she fiddled with something in her drawer. She nodded confidently, her fingers tapping lightly as she glanced at you with a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. I knew who I was gonna pick the second I walked in here.”

You nodded, hoping your expression didn’t betray the subtle tightening in your chest. It was in these little moments that the villa’s intensity hit, the constant swirl of emotions and unspoken fears. But as you caught a glimpse of your own reflection, you reminded yourself of the quiet confidence in Rafe’s words, of the unspoken bond you’d built.

~

The night air felt thick with tension as everyone gathered around the firepit, the familiar crackling flames casting flickering shadows across the group. You sat beside Rafe, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. The warmth of his touch had been a quiet comfort, his thumb tracing soothing patterns along your skin—a small reassurance that whatever happened tonight, he was there.

But as Kayla’s voice broke through the murmur of anticipation, her words twisted the air around you, each one slicing deeper than the last. "I'm coupling up with this person because, from the moment we started talking, I definitely sensed that we had potential and that there was a spark there that I want to explore," Kayla said, her tone confident and unwavering as her gaze locked on the group.

Your eyes dropped to the flames, heart pounding, silently willing her words to be about someone else. When she finally spoke his name, “The person I want to couple up with is… Rafe,” the world seemed to freeze. Your breath hitched, and a wave of shock washed over you, cold and biting, despite the warmth of the firepit. Around you, a few gasps broke the silence, the girls’ faces mirroring the same surprise that you felt.

Your eyes darted to Kayla, disbelief clouding your expression, and then turned to Rafe, who sat motionless beside you, his face an unreadable mask as he stared blankly at the ground. “Really? Nothing to worry about?” you said, your voice low but sharp, brushing his arm off your shoulder. Anger surged through you, raw and uncontainable. You’d trusted him, taken his reassurances at face value.

And now, every promise felt like it had shattered between you. Rafe’s shoulders slumped slightly as he raked a hand through his hair, a long sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head. “Rafe, you look surprised at Kayla's decision,” the host, Sophie commented , looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, his gaze finally flickering up to meet Kayla’s. “Yeah, uh—I don’t know what to say, really,” he mumbled, the frown deepening across his face.

“I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t really interested,” he shrugged, but his words felt hollow to you, hanging in the tense air between him and Kayla. Kayla’s eyes flashed with indignation, and she crossed her arms, a hint of challenge in her expression. “Wow, yeah—that’s not how I felt during our date,” she said with a pointed look, and you felt a pang of betrayal twist in your stomach as her words settled over you.

The whole night, the small reassurances Rafe had given you, the gestures, the closeness—it all felt tainted. Sophie's voice cuts through, pulling you from the storm of emotions swirling within you. “Well, Kayla, if you could switch places with Y/n… and Y/n, if you could come stand beside me.” Standing, you avoided looking at Rafe or Kayla, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You forced yourself to breathe as you stepped away from the firepit, feeling the collective gaze of the group on you. “Y/n, you are now single, which leaves you vulnerable here on Love Island,” Sophie announced. You nodded slowly, your jaw tight as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately holding back the flood of emotions welling inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe looking anywhere but at you, his gaze flickering across the ground as if trying to distance himself from the situation. The sense of betrayal weighed heavily on you, every unspoken word thickening the air between you. As soon as Sophie left, the girls immediately swarmed around you, their arms linking through yours as they ushered you away from the firepit and into the makeup room.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to Sofia, who gave you a sympathetic squeeze. “Honestly, you deserve so much better than that,” she whispered, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back.

~

Rafe’s voice was soft but strained as he appeared behind you, his presence looming uncertainly. “Can we please talk?” His tone was laced with a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing in him. His gaze drifted to your face, catching the redness around your eyes, the remnants of tears. You sighed, dabbing away the traces of mascara that had smudged beneath your eyes.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, Rafe.” You shrugged, brushing him off as you tried to compose yourself. “Y/n, please,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice tugging at the edges of your anger. “I swear to god, I was making it crystal clear that I wasn’t interested. I told her, over and over, that I was in a happy situation with you.”

You felt the flicker of an ache under your ribs, a small crack in the wall you’d put up. “Then why, Rafe?” Your voice rose, bitterness spilling over. “Why did she pick you? She wouldn’t have done that out of the blue if she didn’t think there was something real, something genuine, between you two.” Your words struck him, and he took a small step back, almost flinching.

He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, as if suddenly unsure. “I don’t know why she chose me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you have to believe me, Y/n. None of this meant anything to me—she doesn’t mean anything to me.” He looked at you, and for a split second, you caught something raw, almost pleading, in his expression.

But the anger and the hurt still clouded your heart. You shook your head, exhaustion coating your words. “I’m just… I’m really tired, Rafe. I just want to go to bed.” You didn’t meet his eyes, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. He paused, the silence stretching painfully between you both. “Right. Good night, then,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a sadness that lingered in the air as he turned and left.

By the time you walked into the bedroom, Sofia was already there, her arms opening for you without a word. You melted into her embrace, the comfort of her support soothing your frazzled nerves. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered, squeezing you tightly before you finally pulled away, giving her a small, grateful smile.

As you made your way to your bed, your gaze involuntarily flickered to Kayla’s. She lay there, already settled in, Rafe’s pillow on the other side, and it made your stomach churn. You slipped into bed, laying in the center, feeling an aching emptiness beside you. Rafe should have been there. His warmth, his steady breathing as you fell asleep, had been a constant.

Then, as if on cue Rafe walked into the room. His eyes skimmed over you for a second before he headed toward Kayla’s bed. The air was thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings, and for a moment, you wanted to reach out, to say something, but you held back, the bitterness fresh in your chest. Rafe leaned over, whispering something to Kayla, though you couldn’t make out the words.

Then, without warning, he grabbed his pillow, stepping away from her bed and heading out of the room. You caught Sofia’s gaze across the dimly lit space, her knowing look meeting your own. She offered a small smile of understanding, and you returned it faintly before letting your eyes drift shut, hoping sleep would bring a break from all the emotions.

[diejager]

Hiiii!!! Could I please get more non-con stepdad!König and dbf!Horangi?? No specific prompt just that. Tysm!!

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, DARKFIC, smut, anal sex, choking, rough sex, tell me if I missed any.

“He’s so hot!” Your friend gushed on and on about how she found your stepdad and his friend hot.

Honestly, you would see the appeal if they weren’t so… hands with you, constantly touching you and bending you on every surface in the house when your mother wasn’t home. You would see the appeal your friend had for the retired veterans if they didn’t force themselves on you, pressing your face into the couch, ass arched up and your skirt rucked up, taking everything he had to give you. You took his frustration, his anger, his stress and his lust, every emotion your stepdad felt was pushed onto you, ploughed open by his thick shaft without a moment of respite.

You were uncomfortable with the current subject, listening to your friend squeal about how she wouldn’t mind being fucked by König or Horangi as if they weren’t related to you. You knew your friend had always been on the oblivious side, but never this disregarding or forthcoming of her inner most thought about the big, broad men that made themselves at home in your house for the past few months. You truly wondered if your friend was blind or just apathetic to your obvious discomfort, smiling so wildly at your grimace. You wanted to voice your discomfort, but you doubted she’d understand, shrugging you off with something dumbfoundingly stupid —she wasn’t the smartest, but she wasn’t an idiot, she just grew up fatherless and confused of social cues, her sexual drive much higher than yours.

“Have you seen his eyes? They’r so blue!” She giggled, clapping her hands as she expressed her feelings of admiration, “Oh! Or Kim’s scars, he looks so badass.”

König’s blue eyes were something you feared, his pale, almost ghostly, blues that stared you down when he gripped you by the neck, folding you in half as he rammed in, pushing the air out of your lungs with every thrust. You swore they glowed in the dark, like a beacon in darkness, a light to damnation, a broken man with perverted intentions. Kim, Horangi’s name that she uttered with such reverence, had scars on his face that reminded you of a gruff tiger, glaringly dangerous and sly, the face you saw in the bathroom mirror when he held you against the sink, his arm wrapped around your throat like a chokehold. Your naked and shivering body pressed against the cold porcelain of the sink while you took every snap of his hips, driving his girth into your tight ass.

“I’m jealous your mom got to marry someone so fucking hot!” She whined, throwing her head back in a dramatic gesture.

“Hey, could we change subjects?” You could already imagine her pout, lower lip pulled up and brows tensed to show her displeasure, but you knew her enough to get her to stop talking about the bastards that clung to you like parasites, “I already see them everyday, I came out to be away from them.”

She let out a sound of agreement, nodding her head zealously before her eyes wandered to the little display outside the coffee shop.

“Those look delicious, especially that strawberry cake thing.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy

[hard-core-super-star]

i have to put a trigger warning to this request, im sorry if it triggers something, it was not my intention, lots of love.

heyy, may I request something like a reader who has depression and is struggling in being clean and just want to relapse in old bad habits of self harm but doesn't say anything to Kate because she doesn't want to disappoint her. but in the end Kate finds out anyway because she knows the reader like the palm of her hand and yeah, free choice for the ending!!

when it rains [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x reader

summary: when the threat of relapsing rears its head, kate does her best to support you...even when you try to push her away.

warnings: depressive episode; mentions of self-harm/relapsing; references to anxiety/struggles with spiraling thoughts; hurt/comfort + hopeful/happy ending; kate being nervous but supportive

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: i was working on the next part of vampire!kate when i got hit with a random burst of inspiration to write this request. i wrote it pretty much in one sitting so forgive me for the messiness. this is a pretty heavy topic so read at your risk and keep the warnings in mind! there aren't any super explicit descriptions of things but proceed with caution if you find this topic triggering. thank you for the request and for your patience, sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

In hindsight, the signs that something was wrong were obvious.

You should have picked up on them immediately but you were too distracted by the world around you to notice what was going on inside your inner world. Realistically, there were a hundred reasons for your slip of mind and yet, the only thing you could blame was yourself.

You and your lack of focus. 

You and your constant need for external factors to take away feelings you should be capable of working through on your own.

The list of habits to blame for the sudden breakdown of your mental fortitude was shockingly long, in your opinion. 

You probably should have told Kate about your increasingly anxious and self-deprecating thoughts but you foolishly believed you could handle it on your own. 

Plus, she was busy. Too busy to get caught up in issues she ultimately didn’t care about.

At least, that’s what you told yourself…which just made your thoughts worse. 

A part of you knew the archer cared, of course she cared, she had spent the first month since you moved in with her bringing you random gifts after every night of crime fighting. It bordered on ridiculous, especially since there were only so many places to put flower vases, but it showed just how much your girlfriend cared for you. How much she thought of you.

How much she worried for you whether she was next to you or a whole city away.

It’s a thought that usually reassures you. One that reminds you of the love you have for each other. 

The more your thoughts turned sour, though, the more that love turned into a weapon. It forced you to retreat, to pull away from the archer while pretending like the distance you were putting between you wasn’t killing you inside. 

But being alone only made everything worse. And suddenly, the fear of disappointing Kate suffocated you every waking hour.

It didn’t make sense and yet here you are, home alone, hiding in the bathroom, and gripping the sink so hard that your knuckles had turned white a while ago. At least the uncomfortable feeling in your hands had kept you from doing something you really, really, shouldn’t do.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, frowning at the face that stares back at you. It’s hard to see anything besides the dark bags under your eyes and the exhaustion that’s so clear in every single one of your features.

A sigh leaves your lips as your mind drifts to the razors in the sink cabinet. Your hand is already so close to the cabinet door and the urge to do something you won’t be able to take back rises to the forefront of your mind.

No amount of deep breaths are able to ground you enough for your thoughts to change. Your hand moves a few inches when you suddenly hear the front door slam shut. Some of Kate’s bad habits were also your best allies in moments like this.

You move faster than you can even comprehend, turning the lock on the door and shuffling as far away from the door as you possibly can. You sit on the ground right as footsteps near the bathroom door.

“y/n?”

Her voice startles you despite how soft it sounds. There’s nothing but affection in her tone and yet alarm bells ring in your mind. You almost suffocate under the overwhelming need to run away, to hide, to disappear. 

Your intentions must be obvious despite your silence since she knocks on the door once more. There’s an urgency to her movements that you can’t quite explain. It’s almost like she’s afraid of you slipping away.

The mere thought makes guilt rise up like bile in your throat.

“Love?” She tries once more, her voice uncharacteristically calm. “Can you please open the door?”

You want to do it, you really do, but your whole body feels heavier than ever. No amount of effort or inner screaming gets your limbs to move even though all you really want right now is the archer standing patiently on the other side of the door.

You really don't deserve her.

The door slams open at the exact second your thoughts grow dark once more. 

The sound causes you to jump, your arms instinctively wrapping around your knees and bringing them further against your chest. Almost as if it’ll truly make you disappear so you won’t have to face the disappointment you know will be hiding in the depths of Kate’s concerned eyes.

“Sorry, I got too impatient to pick the lock,” she says, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. 

You almost want to laugh. Only Kate could be so awkwardly charming at a time like this. Despite her charming act, it’s obvious she’s nervous and more than a little out of her depth. You’d feel bad about it if you weren’t in the same boat as her.  

“Um…” Your eyes lift up from your knees to her face, silently watching while she struggles to put her thoughts into words. “Is it okay if I sit next to you?” 

The answer is obvious to you and yet you still hesitate. Not because you don’t want her around but because you’re afraid of how you’ll act. Of the weird mix of frustration and desperation that make up your inner world right now.

“Yeah,” you mumble. 

Kate wastes no time in coming closer to you. A cynical part of you hates the way she looks at you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world. You know it’s unfair, especially since she’s simply concerned for your well-being, but you can’t change your thoughts. You’ve already spent most of the day trying and failing miserably.

True to her word, Kate simply sits next to you, her side barely brushing up against you. It’s enough of a reminder that she’s physically with you without her running the risk of overwhelming you with more contact than you’re ready for. 

You know her just as well as she knows you, though, and your eyes zero in on her fidgeting hands. It’s almost like you can see the struggle in her motions. The aching need to reach out and touch you, to make sure you’re truly safe.

Ultimately, she doesn’t move. And neither do you.

For the first time in a long time, Kate doesn’t rush. She doesn’t question things or make one of her badly-timed but well-intentioned jokes. 

She just…sits there. 

Waiting. 

Silently watching over you in a wordless expression of her support and love for you. 

It’s more beautifully emotional than you were prepared for and you’re almost not sure what to do.

Until, eventually, you find some sense of calm. You grasp onto it quicker than your mind can even handle and finally…you’re able to move again.

It’s a subtle, almost slow, movement but Kate picks up on it pretty much instantly. You extend your arm out toward her and she gently holds the back of your hand while lifting the sleeve of your hoodie up. The audible sigh of relief she lets out makes your heart clench.

She doesn’t question you in any way but you decide to speak up. Maybe a part of you needs to hear the words out loud too.

“My other arm is clean too,” you mumble. “I…I’m still clean.”

She brings your arm up until she’s able to press soft kisses all over the inside of your wrist. “What you are is strong.”

You can’t help but scoff. The knowledge that she means well does little to soothe the disdain that’s made a home in your stomach. “That’s not true.”

The tone your voice carries startles her enough for her to change her approach. It’s not one she particularly wants to employ but she figures it’s better than arguing. 

“Of course it’s true,” she responds. “I know you’ve been struggling all week, y/n. Surviving that takes more than just luck.”

Her words leave no room for arguing so all you can do is huff in response. Your obvious frustration does little to deter her and she continues to caress your wrist. You don’t miss the way she lingers over the few faded scars that remain etched into your skin.

The affection soothes you somewhat which only brings back the thoughts that had sent you down this spiral in the first place. 

“I want to do more than just survive,” you whisper. “I want to live, Kate. Without feeling so…helpless all the time.”

“Babe…” She sighs.

Your body tenses up as you prepare yourself for the disappointment that is sure to follow. 

Who are you to complain? The only thing standing in your way is yourself and yet you have the nerve to act like it’s the end of the world. It’s no one’s fault but your own that you can’t function like a normal person. 

You expect her to verbalize your own thoughts, to prove that all your doubts were correct, that you deserve to feel this way after all. It’s an extremely unrealistic expectation considering who Kate is but you can’t stop yourself from wanting to be proven right. 

To be given a reason for wanting to disappear.

There’s nothing the archer loves more than proving you wrong, though.

“y/n, surviving is a part of living,” she says, her voice soft yet more serious than you’re used to hearing her. “I know it probably doesn’t feel like that right now but pushing through is the first step to living. You just have to take it step by step…and you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here for you, if and when you want me.”

Kate’s never been known for being particularly good at saying the right thing at the right time but today…her words seem to ease some of the weight you’ve been carrying lately. Maybe it’s not much but it’s certainly a start.

“I do want you here,” you find yourself saying. “I just…I don’t know why it feels easier to push you away.”

“Because you’re scared, darling. You don’t want me to leave so you walk away first. I do the same thing, y’know?”

You can’t help but scoff. If there’s one thing Kate doesn’t know how to do is walk away when she really should. It would be infuriating if it didn’t work out in her favor most times. Hence how she ended up as Hawkeye in the first place. “Literally when have you done that?”

“Before I met you.” She playfully bumps your shoulder with her own. “It wasn’t exactly my charm that made me a heartbreaker.”

You chuckle despite yourself. “Please, Kate, you’ve always been too oblivious to be a heartbreaker on purpose.”

“Okay, ouch. I am not oblivious.”

Instead of arguing with your stubborn girlfriend, you simply lean closer to her and rest your head on her shoulder. Her arm instantly wraps itself around you to pull you even closer.

The physical comfort helps to ground you and little by little, your bad thoughts stop looking so overwhelming. It’s a small step but it’s a step forward and with Kate by your side, the path to recovery doesn’t seem so bad.

[abbs-writes]

talk too much | part 2 | Spencer Reid

Warnings: ⚠️ MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️ mentions of depression, self hatred, suicidal ideation, pills, mentions of taking pills, overall very very very depressing

Authors note: hi hi! So this part is very depressing so please read at your own risk, remember you mental health matters and I won't be hurt if you can't read it or don't even want to. But im thinking about writing a part 3 with a happy ending but im not sure yet! I'll let yall know!

Spencer was right when he thought you'd change. You changed so quickly it scared him. He hated how quiet you were now. You didn't have any snarky comebacks anymore, you didn't make jokes with him anymore. You were so quiet it was alarming. He understood why, going through something so traumatic changes you as a person. It had only been a week but he still hoped he could get through to you. He would try everything in his power too.

You spent a lot of time in bed, resting of course but even after that you refused to move from your shared bed. You spent a lot of time looking out the window trying to remember how it all happened so you wouldn't mess up like that again. But you couldn't remember no matter how hard you tried, it made your head hurt how much you tried. Spencer found you like this every morning, knees brought up to your chest as you stared out the window. This morning was no different. "Hey," he said softly. You hummed in response, eyes not leaving the window as you stared at the raindrops falling down the glass. "Do you want breakfast? I can-" he started but you shook your head, "not hungry," you mumbled. "You didn't have dinner last night, you need to eat." He said but you just shrugged. "I'll make you something before I leave." He said.

He really didn't want to leave but he had missed a week of work and they needed him back. He made some waffles, just the ones you stick in the toaster. He brought them to you, setting them on the bedside table. "You know, if you need me to I can stay." He said but you didn't answer, too caught up in your own thoughts to care. "Like if you don't feel safe, I can stay." He added but there was still no response. He felt uneasy, so uneasy he wanted to call in, say something came up and you needed him but he couldn't. "I'll be back before you know it, okay?" He said but once again, you didn't give him a response. He left even though his gut told him not to.

You didn't touch the waffles, you didn't feel like eating. You could see yourself declining, as if watching yourself from outside of your body. You could see it, you could feel it, but you couldn't stop it. All you could do was sit and let it happen. You wanted to beg for help, tell Spencer you needed him but your mind wouldn't let you. You talked too much. You begged too much. You were too much. You knew you were. Deep down you knew it was just your mind repeating the words of a bat shit crazy unsub but yet, you didn't have it in yourself to fight the thoughts off.

It took you almost two hours to get out of bed and away from the nasty thoughts in your head. You stood up, holding your sore stomach. You had burns from the taser, a nasty reminder of what happened to you. You walked to the bathroom but as you entered you wished you hadn't. You saw yourself in the mirror, you looked horrible, tired. Not to mention the fading bruise on your face from being hit in the head and subdued. Your body still ached from everything that happened. You gripped the bathroom sink, you didn't want to live like this, you didn't want to look like this. You were starting to spiral and you could feel it.

You couldn't bring yourself to shower, too achy to care. You stumbled off to the kitchen, you needed water. Your hands were so shaky as you grabbed a glass. You almost immediately dropped it, watching it shatter on the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, your eyes watering. "Please," you whispered, you weren't even sure why. You stepped back carefully after opening your eyes. You didn't have it in you to clean it up, you didn't even want water anymore. You walked back to the bedroom with shaking hands. You crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over you as you stared out the window. You couldn't live like this.

Somehow, someway, you felt like a failure. Like you had let someone down, like you had let spencer down and now he was having to deal with you. You felt like a burden, a problem, a puzzle with so many pieces missing that you would never be put back together. This wasnt Spencer's problem to solve, it was yours. You glanced at the bedside table and your heart sank. "No," you whispered, closing your eyes and shaking your head. "No, I-I don't want to do that," you whispered, tears spilling from your eyes. You hated yourself for what you were thinking, it was a permanent solution for what could be a temporary problem. You could work through it, you knew that, but you wondered if it was truly worth it. To make Spencer go through all this pain with you. He didn't deserve that. Your eyes opened again. You wished that bottle wasn't in your line of sight so you pushed the bottle off the table and let it clatter to the floor, the pills spilling everywhere.

"Please," you kept whispering to yourself, hoping to go the thought would go away. You were plagued with so much and you didn't need suicidal ideation added to the list. You grabbed your pillow, stuffing your face in it as you cried. You wanted to cry, you wanted to wear yourself out so you'd sleep, so you wouldn't think about what you wanted to do. You didn't need to put Spencer through that, he's been through so much and you didn't wanna add your death to that list. You clutched onto the pillow for dear life. "Please, i don't wanna do this," you cried, begging to no one but your own thoughts.

Spencer didn't feel good leaving you. It pained him, hurt him, scared him. So he left early. He went back home, opening the door, "I'm back!" He called out. He set his bag down, noticing the broken glass on the floor. "Y/n?" He called out, examining the broken glass but there were no signs of blood. He left it as he walked to the bedroom. "Y/n!" He saw you on the floor and he quickly ran over to you. You held a pillow in your lap as you cried. "Y/n, did you take these?" He asked, looking at the pills and counting them to make sure they were all accounted for. You shook your head, "n-no but i wanted to. Spencer I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," you cried. "Hey, it's okay," he pushed the pills away and moved to sit next to you. He pulled you into his arms as you cried. "I-I need help Spencer, im sorry." You sobbed. "Don't be sorry, okay? That's what I'm here for, im here to help, okay?" He said. He knew he might not be equipped for all the things you needed help with but he was going to try. "Spence, i need- I need professional help." You sobbed into his arms. "Okay, we can do that. We can find you a therapist, maybe a psychiatrist. We'll get it all worked out, okay?" He cooed, stroking your hair. "I'm sorry," was all you could say. You felt so bad, you felt horrible for making him go through this. "Don't ever be sorry, okay? I got you. We can get through this. I'll be right by your side every step of the way." He said, kissing your forehead. He held you as you cried, refusing to let go even after you stopped crying. He would never let you go through this alone. You would always have him, whether you knew it or not.

[sunsickjune]

bathroom - age six, peering at the new scar along his cheek, wondering how he’s going to explain this one away at school, nose scrunched up in pain as he runs his fingers gently along the mark, fruitlessly hoping to will it away

bathroom - age seven, wet hair, dripping onto his pyjamas, his mother wrapping him in a towel, bundling him up in her arms, carrying him into the bedroom, giggles filling up the shoebox room

bathroom - age nine, drawing in the steam on the mirror, hiding out in the shower, shampoo stinging his eyes, water’s too hot, suffocating, the glow of the almost full moon shining through the window, eyes closed against the pain already vibrating through his bones

bathroom - age eleven, staring at the envelope, green eyes bright with amazement, tracing the letters with a scarred finger, hope, fear, restlessness, excitement

bathroom - age twelve, examining the new scar across his jaw, padfoot says it looks badass, prongs yelling for him to hurry up, dragging a toothbrush against his teeth, can’t get rid of the grin on his face

bathroom - age fourteen, padfoot messing with his hair, slapping his hands away, smirking, grabbing a jacket from the floor before running after prongs, late for breakfast, calling for wormtail over his shoulder

bathroom - age fifteen, on the floor of the shower, eyes closed against the hot water, how much of the water is his tears? uneven breathing, pounding in his head, idiot padfoot, it’s not like he even cares, heartbroken, betrayed, hating them, hating the wolf, hating himself

bathroom - age sixteen, pulling on one of prongs’ hoodies, scanning his notes as he rinses his hands, padfoot smirking at him in a way that quickens his heartbeat, come on moons we need to get going, flushed cheeks, bright eyes, shoulders knocking, towel discarded on the tiles of the floor

bathroom - age seventeen, back against the cold porcelain of the toilet, eyes scrunched shut, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms, sharp enough to draw blood, can’t sleep, can’t stay awake, the soft sound of the door opening, prongs’ hands on his shoulders, prying his fingers away from the wound, moony talk to me, hey, look at me moons, head falling onto his shoulder, so fucking tired

bathroom - age eighteen, panicked breathing, shaking with pain, gripping marlene’s hand, padfoot trying to stop the blood with his shirt, lily muttering healing spells over it, prongs’ quiet cursing from her side, can’t get the bodies out of his head, lifeless eyes, familiar faces, gideon, fabian, how many more?

bathroom - age nineteen, choking on his sobs, can’t breathe, can’t stop seeing her face on his head, hair spread out on the concrete behind her, beautiful blue eyes wide with shock, she didn’t even scream, marlene, she’s gone she’s gone she’s gone, door cracking open, he pulls him into a hug, marlene, marlene, padfoot’s voice cracks, i know

bathroom - age nineteen, padfoot fixing his tie for him, prongs chattering nervously from behind them, straightening wormtail’s suit, mary banging on the door, yelling that they’re going to start without him, “you can’t start the wedding without out the groom, macdonald!”, prongs grins, and his smile is the sun

bathroom - age twenty one, spilling water over harry, padfoot pulling faces, making him laugh, splashing water on his face, a casual arm on his shoulder, turning to him with soft eyes, a smile lighting up his face, loved

bathroom - age twenty one, standing next to padfoot, but he feels miles away, avoiding his eyes, clearing the sink, “i miss you”, he breathes, a confession, padfoot pausing in the doorway, “i’m right here��

bathroom - age twenty two, panic attack, can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t open his eyes because everything reminds him of them, doesn’t want to be alone, but it doesn’t matter, he has no one to go to anyways

bathroom - age twenty five, head hovering over the toilet, fingers gripping the sides of the seat, violently throwing up, knocking over a discarded bottle of beer with his foot, when did he start crying? head pounding, “i miss him” he admits his secret to the empty room, no one there to judge him

bathroom - age thirty, sitting on the cold tiles in his pyjamas, mary clinking her bottle with his “thirty, flirty and thriving”, he gives her a look, she giggles, he’s happy for the first time in a long time, “love you rems”, yeah he’s happy

bathroom - age thirty three, splashing cold water on his face, it’s fine he can do this, but he looks just like him, he needs to plan some lessons, but the eyes, maybe a boggart for tomorrow, those green eyes, lily’s eyes, fuck, he can’t do this, how did he think he could do this?

bathroom - age thirty five, brushing his teeth at the mirror, padfoot’s right next to him, can’t stop smiling, “what?” padfoot’s smiling too, “just missed you”, nudging his shoulder slightly, “i’m not going anywhere moons”

bathroom - age thirty six, broken, more broken than he was last time, shaking, can’t get up, won’t get up, he’s not going to survive this, he knows he can’t survive this, how the hell did he do it last time? leans back against the wall, eyes closed, thinks of prongs, of padfoot of lily and marlene, smiles softly, silence, endless silence.

[uraniumwriting]

Fear and Rot and Strangers in the Mirror

For this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt: Fear is a sickness!

749 words. Caspian tries to stand up to Eden.

CW for mentions of abuse, emotional manipulation. Lmk if there's any others you think should be tagged!

~~

Gripping the edge of the half-broken sink, I tried to remember how to think like a human being.

The cheery fiddle music and laughter from the main dance hall blared in the dark, cramped bathroom mainly made of wood that almost looked rotted, but the only thought in my mind was of those icy blue eyes. Of course, how could I forget them?  Those eyes stared at me nearly every day of my childhood, sometimes with pity, mostly with disappointment.

But still, how could Eden have possibly found me at the tucked-away dance hall? Not only was I shielded by the sheer number of people in the city, but also by the fact that the dance hall was in such a shady area. It had seemed to be the perfect place to spend a few hours without thinking about everything that had happened to me in the past year and a half.

Then Eden just had to show up.

I gripped the sink tighter and gasped for air. My lungs burned, and my heart threatened to jump out of my chest. Had it always been so dark in the bathroom?

He would find me. I needed to run, but my legs just buckled underneath me.

As the door creaked open (of course, the lock didn’t work), I opened my mouth to scream, but no noise came out.

Someone lifted my corpse-like body and yanked my head up, so I was forced to look at myself in the mirror.

“Such a shame this is what you’ve turned into,” Eden said.

At the sound of his voice, tears rolled down my cheeks. I was dying. I was dead.

“Remember when you were such a strong, brave young man?” he asked.

I forced myself to focus on the image in front of me. Eden was the same as he always had been, his gray hair neatly combed back and his demeanor cold and menacing. But, on the other hand, I didn’t recognize myself. The person staring back at me had such disheveled hair, and brown eyes that looked like those of a deer with the amount of fear in them.

“Caspian—”

“Shut up.” Though my fingers burned with the memory of flames years prior, I regained my grip on the sink. “I’m better without you.”

“This city has rotted you with the hysteria of its people.” Eden ran his fingers though my hair, and if it hadn’t been so difficult for me to speak, I likely would’ve screamed. His touch, which I would’ve mistaken for being fatherly long ago, was like venom tearing through my skin.

“There’s no hysteria when it comes to you,” I said through gritted teeth.

“You would be dead without me.”

“Maybe I wish I was.”

Finally finding some strength in me, I turned and shoved him away from. My grip on the sink was still the only thing keeping me from collapsing, but at least I didn’t stare at that stranger in the mirror anymore.

Eden stared at me for a long moment. “If you had just done as you were told, you wouldn’t know what the meaning of fear was. You would know happiness and peace, and so would have everyone else.”

“That won’t work on me anymore,” I said.

“Fear will destroy this city, boy.” He took a step toward me.

Maybe it was just the way I barely felt like I was in my own body, if not for the death grip I had on the sink, but for once, I didn’t flinch.

“This city has seen fear before, and yet it’s still here.” I blinked fast to keep the dark spots out of my vision. “I could scream, you know, and the people here would tear you to shreds.”

“And yet, you won’t.”

He was right.

Eden chuckled. “Go back to your little dances, Caspian. One day, you’ll grow up and know what I mean.”

Before I could even try to snap something back at him, Eden turned and left the bathroom. Thankfully for my dignity, he closed the door behind him and left me in the darkness alone.

Sighing, I turned and silently greeted the stranger staring at me again. He reminded me of when I was younger, when I was afraid and didn’t even know it.

Eden was wrong. He had to be.

Still, that didn’t stop my body from finally giving out on me and letting my head slam into the floor.

[chronicowboy]

wrote this on wednesday then promptly forgot about it (thabk @danielsousa for reminding me) but there's like a tiny chance eddie could be trapped in that van with someone so the bones of this fic could still technically apply

Eddie makes it out alive. Again. Somehow.

(Except somehow is 6ft2 and looks a lot like an angel when the last piece of rubble falls away and the light filters into what Eddie had thought would be his grave.)

Eddie makes it out alive, but Joel isn't so lucky.

He had been on a motorbike when the first crash had happened, in critical condition before the bridge had collapsed. It had taken them far too long to extract him from the cluster of cars, and then, when they'd finally gotten him ready to transport, the bridge had swallowed both Joel and Eddie whole.

It had been a long two hours of trying to keep Joel from bleeding out, but eventually he'd lost the fight and the man had taken in one final, wheezing breath before going still.

Now, Eddie's staring into a hospital mirror covered in dust and another man's blood. The bathroom door creaks open, and Buck's reflection appears in the mirror.

"Chim's okay," he offers softly. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut in relief, its the most Buck is going to get out of him. "Maddie's just waiting for him to be assigned a room and then she'll go up and sit with him until he's awake." Buck joins him by the sinks, turning the faucet on and grabbing a wad of paper towels. "Hen and Bobby have been checked out too. Nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. Karen and Athena are looking after them."

Buck picks up Eddie's bloodied hands with a gentleness that makes Eddie want to curl up in a ball, but he lets Buck wipe away the grime on his skin and doesn't think about Maddie with Chimney, Athena with Bobby, Karen with Hen. He catches the bandage peeking out from under Buck's shirt sleeve and his stomach clenches.

"What about you?" he croaks, voice hoarse from begging Joel to stay with him. Buck looks up at him with earnest eyes before following his gaze down to the gauze.

"Oh, that's nothing." Buck shakes his head. "Chim needed a blood transfusion, and..."

"You're a universal donor," Eddie mumbles to himself. Buck nods.

"How are you?" he whispers, guiding Eddie's hands under the lukewarm stream of water. Eddie fixes his gaze on the pink liquid swirling around the drain.

"Unscathed," he spits.

"Eddie," Buck murmurs. "You did everything you could for him."

"It wasn't enough."

Eddie jerks his hands out of Buck's grasp, pumps three drops of soap onto his palm, turns the heat up to full and scrubs and scrubs and scrubs. Buck shuts the tap off just as the water begins to burn, and Eddie slumps into a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter, squeezing his eyes shut and hanging his head.

"He had a kid at home, Buck." Eddie bites his lip, revels in the gritty taste of dust. "A little girl. Jackie. God, you should have seen his face when he spoke about her." Even in the darkness, even in tremendous amounts of agony, Joel had lit up like the fucking sun when he spoke of his daughter. For a single moment, Eddie had been back in the well, fighting to get home to Christopher.

"And I know that you did everything in your power to try and get him back to her," Buck says with conviction.

"Well, it wasn't enough, was it?" Eddie snaps. "He died in my care, Buck. I let a little girl lose her father."

"Eddie, that was not your fault," Buck warns him, tone stern. "The universe was working against you in every possible way."

"The universe!" Eddie laughs coldly, meets Buck's eyes in the mirror. "The universe has been working against me my whole goddamn life, Buck. But I'm still here." His voice cracks, but he doesn't take his eyes off Buck. Can't. "Why am I still here?" Buck opens his mouth, but Eddie doesn't want an answer as much as he wants to spit in the universe's filthy fucking face. "Shannon died, my convoy died, Joel died. You died." Eddie takes in a ragged breath, cursing the oxygen in his lungs. "Why am I still alive?"

"Because there is a little boy, who's not all that little anymore, waiting for you at home. A little boy who loves you more than anything in the world. A little boy who needs his dad."

"Wasn't enough for Joel," Eddie croaks.

"No, but." Buck sighs. "You made Chris a promise. To always fight to come home to him. You were just keeping that promise."

"He had a wife," Eddie whispers. "A wife and a kid to get home to. And he fought for them. But..." He squeezes his eyes shut again. "Why am I still here, Buck?"

"For Christopher."

"Christopher would be fine." Eddie shakes his head in dismissal. "He'd have you."

For a moment, the only sound in the bathroom is Eddie's ragged breathing and the drip-drop of a leaky faucet. Then, a low and furious noise, like the grumble of thunder -

"Eddie, you are not expendable."

Eddie huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"Clearly not," he snaps, spinning around to face Buck head on. "Clearly I'm not expendable when everybody around me, everybody but me keeps dying."

Eddie storms out of the bathroom before Buck can say anything else. The itch under his skin turning into a haunting chorus telling him to run. He follows the winding hallways of the hospital in a blind need for air, suddenly claustrophobic trapped in between four walls, just waiting for it all to come crumbling down around him. He doesn't stop until he's outside, collapsing onto the bench just left of the exit as the tears start to fall. He hunches in on himself and cries into his hands for what feels like hours.

Eventually, somebody eases down onto the bench beside him. He doesn't have to look to know its Buck, can feel it in the warmth where their shoulders touch. Eddie braces himself for whatever Buck is going to say, but nothing comes. Buck just. Sits beside him. Sits with him in his grief. And Eddie is so thankful for it that he almost doesn't remember Bobby's words to him in the hardware store.

a motorcycle accident... it was a bad one... I wasn't at my best at the time... I needed to take a minute and she sat with me.

"Eddie, you said it yourself." Buck smiles at him. "Experiences like this they change us, so you're gonna have to make a choice. What's this gonna change in you?"

Oh, Eddie thinks, that's what its going to change.

[iphig3nia]

From Eden || Sebastian Sallow

“I slithered here from Eden, just to sit outside your door”

Sebastian wants to tell you his feelings so bad, however he might be just a little nervous about it

cw - slight angst, open-ended ending :0, Sebastian has low self esteem :(

a/n || now that I know how tumblr works (mostly), and how its awful with copy and pasting work from google docs (like whyyy), I’d like to write more :), I also opened requests (I think I did, I’ll check again)

—

“Meet me in the undercroft after your class, there’s something to discuss.”

That’s all Sebastian told you before he scurried off, leaving you in the dust. “How strange..” you murmured watching his silhouette disappear around a corner, accepting this as a regular occurrence you went on with your day normally. However on the other side of that wall Sebastian was breathing like he’d just ran a mile, blushing and wiping the sweat off of his hands onto his slytherin cloak. He almost froze right in front of you and he wasn’t even telling you how he felt! He smacked his face a couple times “get it together” he peeked around the corner and saw you walking off into the distance and let out a dreamy sigh, he has all day now to plan.

Your day continued quite normally, you had classes and met up with your friends and studied for a bit. On the other side of school though Sebastian was a wreck, he rushed to the bathroom at the end of his second to last class of the day. He bent over the sink, gripping the porcelain white of the bowl as he shook with each intake of breath. All day you were on his mind and no matter what you always said no to him in his head. Sebastian was torturing himself with the thought of you rejecting him, the thought of you looking at him with disdain “why would I ever go out with you?” He tried to shake the thought from his head, you stood by him through a lot of things that have happened recently and he just somehow developed feelings for you…but did you feel the same?

Sebastian looked into the mirror, a slight tremor could be seen and he sighed and quickly washed his face with cold water. You were just so…pure and kind-hearted to everyone and everything unlike him who would use the dark arts when beneficial. You knew about his sister, and his ceaseless searching for a cure, for any way to help her. But deep down he was worried that maybe that would be the dealbreaker for you, maybe you didn’t want someone like him who could so easily dabble in that cursed magic. He stared down at his hands and his eyes furrowed in slight disgust, his innocence died screaming a while ago “I should know..” he muttered and dried his face off before heading to his last class.

As your last class ended you gathered your things quickly and left for the undercroft, the familiar twists and turns setting your nerves on fire. What did Sebastian want to talk about exactly? You’re not so sure, but you feel a glint of hope as you think that maybe he’s finally going to talk about his feelings for you. He hasn’t been the most secretive person about it, and you haven’t been so good at it either. You sigh as you hold your book close to your chest in comfort, Sebastian had been under a lot of stress recently and you were so worried about him. His quest to find a cure for Anne while good-hearted is leading to him plunging himself into the dark arts, and you can see the toll it takes on him with your very eyes, and it hurts you deeply.

You want to remind him so bad that he is still good despite his choices, that he’s still the Sebastian you fell in love with. You pause at the entrance of the undercroft with that in mind and decide that even if the conversation doesn’t go that way, you will admit to Sebastian your feelings for him whether he accepts them or not. You enter the undercroft and find it deserted, the room silent save for the door closing. This doesn’t seem to help your nerves as you resign yourself to standing around and waiting for him, thinking of what to say.

Sebastian didn’t mean to leave class so late, it doesn’t matter though as he races through the corridors. A million thoughts are flying through his head, into one ear and out the other. What if you’re not there, what if you left after he took so long, what if you already have a boyfriend that he somehow didn’t know about, what if you say no. Sebastian huffs as he reaches the entrance to the undercroft and finds himself pausing just before he opens the door. Last minute thoughts begin to bubble and surface, Sebastian almost feels too revolting to even think about speaking to you especially about this, he feels as if he’s like a slimy snake, slithering here from Eden just to hide outside the door.

On the other side of the door you become anxious, thoughts about where Sebastian could be are coursing through your mind. “Maybe I should go look for him.” you look around again and decide that’s the best course of action for now. You walk towards the door and reach for it slowly. Sebastian sighs and looks straight at the door, “It’s now or never.” He murmurs to himself as he goes to open the door.

You jump back in surprise when you open the door to the undercroft to see Sebastian, and you clearly see his eyes widen startled. Staring into each other’s eyes many feelings can be seen: fear, anticipation, hope, love.

You already know how this will end, and you like to think he knows as well.

“Hey” you smile

“Hey” he smiles

[shawncantwrite]

I know you've been hurt in this walk of life. (let me find my shoes, I will walk with you.) - A Larissa Weems x Reader hurt/comfort fic.

A/N: purely self indulgent. as previously mentioned on the last episode of dragon ball z, my partner of two years broke up with me. On top of that, I've been relapsing because I'm oh so smart, but enough of the sob story, Have this fic I coughed up during my Depressive episode

This isn't proofread because, well, my proofreader dumped me 😭

TW: Self-depricating thoughts, Self-harm, implied child abuse, just the sads all around

.

.

.

Your life was shit. Pure unadulterated shit. It feels like from the moment you were born the universe was out to get you, like every circumstance was a "fuck you" to the face. Nothing ever went right for you. For starters, your parents were the absolute worse. They were constantly breathing down your neck about your grades and about how you present yourself in public, gotta protect their image they would say. From a young age you had to act older than you ever should have had to. Then in highschool everything just came crashing down on you, fear of the future, dread from the past... you finding out you were an outcast was just the cherry on top; it was one thing for you to be your family burden, but now you're also a blood sucking monster! Just your luck.

Life was a sea you were drowning in constantly, you felt as if there wasn't a day where water wasn't in your lungs and your mind wasn't constantly belittling you. It was tiring, exhausting, whatever else is synonymous. You just want it to stop. You wanted to feel something other than your emptiness, your constant dread of a lack of purpose.

Maybe that's when it started.

The first time was an accident. You were working on a school project and was cutting up some cardboard for a model, unfortunately you're a clutz and you accidentally dropped your cutter. You winced and grabbed your wrist which was now bleeding. Oddly enough though... you didn't really mind. You'd blamed the vampirism then but.. then you found that the cuts on your wrist went from accidental to on purpose.It was a dumb idea now that you think about it, you realise that now, maybe not then. You wanted to feel something, anything. The stinging sensation of the blade piercing your flesh was intoxicating, it hurt, but it hurt so comfortably. You found solace in it, no matter how morally grey it seemed.

But now, several years later, standing in front of your bathroom sink and staring down at the very same flesh you've abused all theseyears you can't help but loathe the scars you made. It's entirely your fault, you think, but that doesn't make you hate it any less. You stare and stare, each scar a reminder of how miserable you were, how pathetic you were.

It was a reminder of what life was like before her.

Larissa was a breath of fresh air in your miserable life. If you walked around with a rain cloud above your head she was the one holding and offering you an umbrella. She made your life a little bit more tolerable simply by being in it. Ever since meeting Larissa, you've noticed you've made some good changes to yourself. One of them being that you were almost half a year clean from cutting yourself!

..Almost.

Your hands grip the edge of the sink tightly, fighting back tears as you stare at two fresh scars you made the night before. That familiar feeling of dread filled you again, blinding yourself from seeing reason. Relapse is normal, Larissa once said, but you refused to tell her, you didn't want to disappoint her.

Then again, nobodys more disappointed in you than you are.

You're so lost in your self-loathing that you fail to hear the front door to your apartment open, Larissa had a spare key, you felt it was only right for her to have one by your 7th monthasarry. She calls out for you from the living room, but you're too busy hating the person in the mirror to realise that.It's only too late when you realise. The door to the bathroom clicked open, your angel's voice filled with such worry over your silence. You're like a puppy around Larissa, the moment she's back in your vicinity you're like a dog missing it's owner and suddenly you're all over her. Not tonight, though. Tonight you were quiet. Tonight you were staring at yourself and your scars, hating yourself like you always do.

It's only then you look up to stare at her, she's quick to be by your side her hands rough, a testament to her hardwork, yet so soft and gentle when handling you. She grabs onto your wrist and notices the fresh scar from the night before, her beautiful oceanic eyes painted with deep worry.

She takes you to your bedroom and sits you down. She's talking, but it all feels like it's underwater to you, you felt like the world and everything around you wasn't real at the moment, with nothing but the ringing in your ears distracting you. You try to make out what she's saying but ultimately give up. She's cleaning your wound, you notice, she's taken a first aid kit and she's making sure your cut is properly disinfected. Her touch is so soft and caring, it almost makes you tear up and cry. You stare at her, her eyes fixated on her task. You take a moment to admire her, her beautiful blonde hair, the way her brows furrow and her nose scrunches when she's focused.. for a moment, you're lifted from the tide and you can see clearly; you see her. Your Larissa, Your love.

When you realise those blue eyes are staring back at you, that's when you notice you seem to have regained your grasp on reality, she's looking at you with such warmth yet such worry, you feel bad for burdening her, but you've never been a burden, not to her, no. She adores you. She wishes you could see that.

"Are you okay?" Her words finally register, you blink at her, unsure what to say. Are you okay? You don't know yourself, honestly. She can see the conflict going on in your mind and hums, as if understanding something, her hand hovers over your cheek, a silent question in her eyes. You press your cheek into her palm and nuzzle into it, your eyes closing at the warmth and familiarity of her touch. Her eyes soften at that, her thumb caressing your cheek.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shake your head, finding yourself unable to speak. She nods in understanding and the two of you stay there for a while, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you.

Eventually, She moved you further onto the bed. Her heels were discarded somewhere across the room, her coat hanging against the headboard, you stare up at her as she situates you so that your head lay on your chest, the steady rise and fall of chest calming your nerves and anxiety that you didn't even realise was there.

Silence falls between you two again, but you don't mind at all. Her hand mindlessly draws shapes on your back with her fingers. You bury yourself in her embrace, her touch alone lifting away all your worries... well.. almost all of them. You felt the need to open up to her but you hesitate, that same old voice in the back of your head telling you not to bother her with your pathetic whines. But as you look up at her and you find her staring back at you with nothing but love and warmth.. you can't help but let the dam loose.

You lay there and open up about everything, how tired you've felt recently, how disgusting you feel especially when it comes to your scars. You want to cry, but you can't, so you just kept it all in until you couldn't anymore. As you rant, She listens to you intently, her eyes filled with nothing but understanding and care. When you end your small tangent, she brings your wrist up to her face and presses a kiss to it.

"Thank you for telling me," She whispers softly, her lips pressing against the skin of your wrist, you shiver at the contact, confused as to what she's doing. She continues to kiss your wrist.. no, your scars, you notice, and you watch in silence, your eyes curious yet filled with warmth.

She takes her time with each one, each kiss soft and meaningful. You could feel the pure love radiating off of her, it was overwhelming. It nearly made you cry, but what really did it were her next words."I know I can't do much to help you see yourself the way I see you." She mutters against your skin, her eyes reading into yours.

"But not once have I ever found you pathetic or disgusting, nor have I ever thought you were a burden." She pulls away from your wrist and caresses your cheek once again, her gaze filled with sincerity. You listen to her, clinging onto each word, the familiar feeling of warmth from her comfort already lifting the weigh on your shoulders.

"And most of all," She grabs your wrist with her free hand, her fingers gliding across the skin. "These scars... while the way they got there is.. unconventional. They're a testament to how resilient you are, how resilient you have been."

"I will never view them as disgusting, because despite everything, they still make up the person that you are, and I love you all the same. And I'll continue to do so, For as long as you'll have me."

..

Tears sting your eyes, but not in a bad way, never in a bad way with Larissa. Your heart was swelling with such gratitude and love for the woman before you. You can't help but stammer like an idiot, your tears spilling down your cheek. It was an embarrassing sight, you're sure of it, but not to her, she wipes away every tear wordlessly, no judgement or mockery in her eyes. Just pure unfiltered love, love you never recieved growing up, love you needed all this time, love you deserved, love she offered.

As you fall asleep that night with her arms wrapped around you and the steady beating of her heart lulling you to sleep, you come to the conclusion that living isn't so bad, as long as you had your Larissa.

[lowerthanapplebottomj]

“And It’s Just As Good As I Knew It Would Be”

And so I started falling,

Endlessly.

From the clouds-I went.

Falling, laughing, crying, and fighting like hell.

I hit the ground hard and fast and when I finally opened my eyes— I was so confused

My skin was warm and the sun was bright. I looked up and I saw you holding out your hand. Intoxicated with the smell of sweet wine and your laughter. I started running with you —the most irresistible force of fire and life I have ever known.

I didn’t want to understand how this happened. I thought I was dying? I accepted my fate and somehow gravitated to your soul. Like that’s exactly what the universe had planned, pushing me off of the clouds- this is why I had fallen.

Deeply, Madly, Endlessly.

I never knew anything as sweet as you.

With blood on my lip and bruises on my body. You healed a part of me I didn’t know was so broken.

Although, my wounds were deeper than I actually knew. You couldn’t get to them. Embedded into my bones I felt something snap, I looked down and I was bleeding. My heart fell out of my chest.

We just stared…

Tears flowed down your cheek.

Gently, you picked it up and placed it back into my hands. Giving me a cute little cartoon bandaid, and we continued running.

but,

We ran out of bandaids— that was a shit fucking day. You didn’t know what to do. It was storming. Rain was pouring. I couldn’t see, I wiped the water from my eyes and I saw something dark emanating in the distance- monstrous shadows slowly creeping out of the night sky.

They were familiar and I was terrified.

I knew they were coming for me.

You held me tight and I should of held you tighter. I should have kissed you harder. I screamed as they dug their claws into my feet ripping me away from you.

They took me. Pulled me under. You tried grabbing my hands. You did everything you could, Everything. You fought. Cuts and bloody knuckles.

Your heart got broken.

I knew this part was my fault.

You see, I knew them from long ago, and they only got more sinister since I was a kid. I was just so fucking tired. I should have protected you. I should have gave you a clear warning. Although I tried, and you thought I was just trying to scare you like in the movies we’d watch, but unlike the bad acting in chainsaw massacre, this was real and you didn’t understand. How could you?

They were vicious. Told me that you hated me. Told me I was worthless. Fed me poison and told me that love never existed. I scoffed and screamed out your name- giving them the middle finger. It exists. I said.

It got quiet

dead silence filled the air…

Slowly stepping forward, claws dragging on the cold hard ground. They each held up a jagged mirror to my starved and broken body.

Dissociation glazed over my face.

Gripping a fist full of my hair, forcing my tear stained eyes to the image in front of me.

“How could anybody love you?”

A trail of mocking laughter echoed off the walls and I fell to my knees.

You were trying to get back to me. I heard you calling and I so badly wanted you to hear me. To bring me back to the surface.

But It was too late…

I couldn’t escape. I didn’t have a shovel and six feet under wasn’t going to cut it. I had to salvage what was left of my soul.

This time- I wanted to. Honestly, it brought me no greater joy. Live or eat shit for the rest of your life knowing they will never let you have peace.

It felt like an eternity.

I nearly broke every bone in my body.

Tortured and forgotten until I felt nothing.

For months, I felt-

Nothing.

Rip me into pieces, tear me limb from limb, but being slowly poisoned by nothingness…. Is not of this earth.

Having to constantly remind myself that I was even still alive.

Day after day, I was exhausted. Sinking quietly into the abyss. Collecting shards of broken glass left over from previous years. Careful not to sound off the rust covered chains they kept me in. In the pitch black darkness, raw and bloody, my fingertips gently tracing the perfect outline.

I was patient.

I waited until they fell dormant. They do this for periods at a time- you see. They’re sensitive to sounds and I was done living in silence.

The darkness almost swallowed me whole when I finally heard a click. My eyes shot open.

Quick to my feet, I lured them in with a bang- Throwing my restraints on the floor. They came lunging towards me and I bolted to the bag of jagged mirrors.

Every single loved ones face, Every single regret and moment of betrayal flooded my body.

Nothing but adrenaline in my veins and the memories of grievous heartbreak pounding inside of my head. I wasn’t afraid anymore- I had nothing more to lose than my life. So, fuck it.

Cutting them off with determination. They clawed after the bag. My fists were raw as I gripped it from their ridged grasp.

Striking the floor. Mirrors shattered in every direction.

Their reflections scattered, but it wasn’t enough.

Dark screeching laughter pulsated through me like nails on a chalkboard.

Palpitating my heart with terror.

Quickly, I slid. Scraping my knee to the only un-shattered piece still left on blood stained ground. I held it up strong while it cut deeply into my palm.

Staring in silence and disbelief.

Unfazed by the glass setting fire into my skin.

“I’m fucking bored.”

Boldness and hell ran through my veins.

“And it was you who never existed!”

Impulsive rage filled their hollow eyes as they tried for my throat one last time.

I smiled in satisfaction as I waited.

Face to face with their own demise of a faceless existence- They fulminated into ashes.

Falling pure as snow.

Twisted echos were no longer lingering inside of my head.

The smoke cleared and my lungs inhaled deeply.

I could breathe.

Silent tears dripped off the tip of my nose as I looked down on what remained. Standing over the ashes with years of left over rage,

Cursing deeply under my breath.

Spitting onto the ash with spite.

I could have swept what was left under the rug, but I spent too many years doing that.

This was a reminder.

I dusted myself off, and started climbing.

Dirt, sweat and dried up tears covered my entire face.

With my fingertips barely scratching the surface.

I sensed it all at once— Light, Radiance, and Euphoria fell like glitter all around my being.

Finally,

I was free.

I was finally fucking free.

I felt proud. I was grateful. I was healing.

Walking into this new found life, the sun was shining and the trees were swaying in the breeze. I was dancing when it started raining. I smiled, spinning myself around dizzy, joyful-

and there you were.

You looked different.

You looked like you had been searching for me all your life.

It was always you.

Dancing, laughing, as vibrant as the blood moon.

Holding out your hand, impatiently smiling.

“What are you waiting for my love?”

[inafieldofdaisies]

“just hold me.” for the prompts? 🥺🥺

Prompt from this post.

John wiped away at the steam that had gathered over the bathroom mirror, taking a deep breath as he stared at his reflection. "So what if she out there. You have everything under control.", he mumbled quietly, hands gripping the edges of the sink. He was yet to pop out of the bathroom to grab a change of clothes, something that had escaped his mind in his rush to put distance between him and Sabrina. A very irrational worry, really, considering she was fast asleep. Reminding himself of that fact, he carefully cracked the door open, the light spilling out into the bedroom barely illuminating the bed and the outline of a body beneath the sheets. It took an embarrassing amoung of willpower to tear his gaze away from her, focusing on the task at hand as he rummaged through his drawers in the dark, one hand holding onto the towel wrapped around his waist. In his refusal to turn on any of the lights, he relied completely on touch, feeling each piece of clothing until he got to his favorite pair of sleep pants. With the garment clutched in his hand, he tip-toed back into the bathroom, dropping the towel on the floor as he put the bottoms on. John was well aware that he was simply buying time, avoiding the inevitable after he had acted brazenly and crossed a line, brought her to his bedroom, left her to sleep in his bed.

"She asked me to.", he whispered as he hung the wet towel on the drying rack, cursing the part of him that had suggested it in the first place. His fingers wrapped around the door handle while he imagined the alternative - stirring her awake so she can- Do what? Leave because you're afraid you won't handle her sleeping in your bed?

No. He was going to face the challenge head-on, prove to himself he was strong, stronger than temptation, stronger than the parts of him that wanted her more and more each day she spent at the ranch. Seconds later, he was on the other side of the door, no light to guide him over to the bed this time around aside from the moonlight and his memory. Whatever estimation he had of the distance between the bathroom doorway and his bed turned out to be a bit off, and he bit back a yelp when his toes met the wooden footboard, cringing at every little creak of the floorboards that sounded louder in the silence as he rounded it. Sabrina had shifted to the side of the matress that faced the balcony, the light coming through its windows teasing her form as she lay facing him, looking completely at home with her face nestled into his spare pillow. Any plans he entertained about kicking her out of his bed vanished at the sight, at how right it felt to have her there.

"I'm strong, Joseph.", he breathed out before lifting the sheets and crawling beneath them, the transfer of his weight doing nothing to wake her up. John settled onto his side, too, sticking one hand beneath his own pillow and putting as much space as he could between him and Sabrina without rolling off the matress and onto the floor. He could imagine her laughing at his hesitation, how she would tease him about the way he was acting had she been conscious. Minutes ticked away where he willed himself to sleep, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness and barely making out her features, the hand that wasn't trapped under his head itching to reach out and brush away the strands of hair that had fallen across her face. Then he heard it, amids his own quiet breathing and the rain pattering outside, a small whimper, followed by her shifting in bed, her fingers gripping the ends of her pillow. What alarmed him more was the indistinguishable low mumbling that he could only describe as panicked, more than he had ever seen her be, even when she was in his Reconciliation room.

"Don't.", it was the first thing he could make out as word, and before he could stop himself, he was shuffling across to Sabrina, arms reaching out and pulling her into his embrace, ignoring the idea he was yet again crossing a boundary. His hand stroked her back while her heart raced so fast he could physically feel it resonating through his own chest. "Deputy.", John called out quietly, pushing down a wave of dread. He had witnessed so many people in distress and pure agony in his chair, yet the alarmed feeling he was experiencing at that moment was something he had never dealt with before. "Deputy.", he tried again when she pushed at his chest, palm making contact with his bare skin, the same way she had touched him nights before in his kitchen, only this time it was like she was trying to get away from whatever she was seeing in her sleep and he was unintentionally embodying it. "Sabrina.", her name was a plea as he shook her shoulder gently, having absolutely no experience at dealing with other people's nightmares or any idea what he was supposed to do, why he even cared. A tiny gasp left her lips before her hand that had formed a fist over his peck unfolded and spread across it. "John?", her voice sounded small, confusion seeping into it and making him resume his reassuring stokes over her back. "I'm here.", he retorted queitly, "You had a bad dream." "You're in my space, again.", the words made his hand freeze as her breath ghosted over his neck, reminding him of how close they actually were. "I… I didn't know what to do." Despite her observation, Sabrina made no move to pull away, craning her head back so she could meet his eyes, her silence as she regarded him putting him on edge while he battled his own urges at the way their bodies touched. "I will go back to my side, Deputy." "Don't.", the word this time around had quite the opposite effect on him. "What?", he mumbled in disbelief, telling himself he was hearing things, that surely his mind was playing tricks on him to make him stumble. "Just hold me." Sabrina rested her cheek against his chest after uttering that out, her own hand straying until it stopped at his waist, the heat emitted from it traveling across his skin.

The man he was before she ever came to Hope County would have pushed her away, blamed her for attempting to tempt him, instead he ignored the quips about what Joseph would think of his actions as he settled into the pillow she had claimed as hers, breathing in her scent. All he could think about in that moment was the fact she needed him, that she wasn't reeling back at their nearness. "We're not crossing any lines.", John argued over and over the faint voices that spoke of sin and abandoning his path as he fell asleep with her in his arms.

[lost-soul-in-time]

His chest hurts. It’s hurts so much, and he can’t get a proper breath in.

He can feel it watching him, studying his movements, crawling beneath his skin. It’s never been this bad, he’s always been able to ignore it. But it’s impossible to do just that when everything is uncomfortable. The way air enters his lungs, the way he steps forward and back, the way his skin feels over his body, how the blood laying dead and gone in his veins feels—

The way a sudden wetness is leaking through his dress shirt.

Stumbling up to his feet, Oliver immediately collapses into the nearest wall, breaking his fall and keeping himself up with the his hands — which he’s now noticed are utterly black, the dark tint dragging up his forearms as slow as a snail’s stride, but still there.

He wants to claw at his skin until the inky color bleeds out of him.

The wall will have to be used to his advantage. He slides and slumps across the surface the best he can, grabbing onto the handle of the bathroom door when he’s finally arrived, like finding land during a rough storm at sea. His legs feel weak, as if he’s run miles without pausing and only now begun feeling the side effects.

He’s in pain. He’s not supposed to be in pain.

The door opens, his enfeebled limbs pulling him towards the sink and gripping the laminate counter with a quivering hold. The reminder of his stained shirt gains back his attention when it begins to burn — god, and it really burns.

Oliver’s hands are too unstable to even attempt to unbutton the tainted garment, but when he stares at himself in the mirror, he doesn’t feel the need to do so. His heart and his chest, his scars, are steadily loosing blood too dark to be normal or alive as well. He looks freakish. Veins as dark as his hands have reached his neck, reaching up to below his jaw.

His jaw feels tight and tense. He can feel his canines digging into the inside of his cheeks, brushing along his gums, poking around in his mouth like they’ve always been there when it’s clear they haven’t.

tu ad me pertines.

Fuck, his head is throbbing.

With a pained yell, his hands move up to grip tightly at his head and his eyes squeeze shut, desperate to relieve the pain some way, any way. Curling in on himself proves to be a better and worse decision, eventually collapsing onto his knees and falling to lay on his side with a tortured sob. He claws at his head, pulls at his hair, shouts to be left alone, just leave me alone—

i’ve waited long enough.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD—!”

He screams with the little air he has in his lungs, and he hears the mirror shatter, a few pieces showering themselves over his body and he flinches at the cuts he receives. This can’t happen, it shouldn’t be happening yet, he’s been fine all this time. It will all pass eventually, he’ll get a washcloth to clean his cuts if he can’t heal himself, and he’ll wait for them to come back home because you wouldn’t believe what happened to me today darling—

sleep.

His world darkens exponentially, and he feels the walls he’s built around it finally crumble.

He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

[glacecakes]

Today, of all days, see how the most dangerous thing is to love...

Anne sees her everywhere. In her reflections, out of the corner of her eye. Her white glow, the flaking of her skin like the rustling of leaves. Because she is proof that Anne is just a copy, and her destiny is to die of old age and (probably) become a goddess. All while yearning for a land that Anne knows she no longer has the power to see.

But she's fine! Totally! She's so fine! She doesn't need to talk to anyone or worry them, not when she is the only one who is struggling. She can't hold them down.

But perhaps she can find happiness elsewhere.

Pretend it’s still may 14th shhhhhh

Happy anniversary to the episode that made me so mad I cried for 2 hours straight

This work was inspired by the common AU that Anne is haunted by her white calamity form post-canon. In particular I was inspired by the art of Spix_rave, syrasenturi, kyoryuv, and chaska_draws (go check them out on twitter they're fantastic artists). There's a lot of mental illness depiction going on here, so if the tags or writing upsets you please turn away! A huge chunk of this though is my own projection bc I have been Going Through It and this was very therapeutic to write. Lmao.

Please like/reblog/kudos/comment! It helps a lot!

Excerpt under read more:

“I know you’re here.”

Anne stands in front of the mirror in her bathroom. Her fingers grip the sink so tight her knuckles turn white. If she had any more strength it might even crack. Her gaze stares right through her reflection. It’s a familiar sight; curly hair tied back in a ponytail, green work shirt, those damn brown eyes. Brown, brown, brown, her mother always said she had the prettiest eyes, brown like Jupiter, like the sand on the beach, brown like soil beneath her feet. Not blue, blue like the sky, blue like the raging sea, blue like her gemstone. They haven’t been blue in a long time. Or maybe they never were.

“Are you gonna show yourself?” She asks into the quiet. If someone were to walk in, they wouldn’t see anyone. But she’s not alone, she knows it, just as much as she knows her eyes are brown and not blue, damn you for not being blue.

She shuts her eyes. Counts to ten. When they open, she is in the mirror.

“What do you want from me?” Anne asks, for the hundredth, thousandth, millionth time. Or maybe it’s the first time she’s asked. She says nothing, like always. Her hair swoops upward like a lotus flower, eyes like diamonds. Three colors alight her old ratted uniform. Her skin cracks and flakes. Pieces of it evaporate every time she breathes.

Silence rings in the bathroom.

“Why are you here?” Anne asks. “Are you just here to torture me? To remind me of what I used to be?” Used to be, or never was? Is she just an imitation, a flawed copy made in a factory with the wrong serial number? Every piece of her is the same, every digit copied over, and yet the location of the data is different. She is a glitch of code, a rewrite of a file long since erased from the hard drive.

She reaches a hand out. She places it on the mirror.

Anne rears back. Is she trying to crawl through, to claw and tear through reality and death, undo the blessing (curse) that was given to Anne? Is it a mercy? Is it something to fear?

Her eyes line with an indescribable emotion.

“I can’t help you.” Anne rasps. “I’m not you. I’m sorry I’m not you. I want to be you, but I’m not.” she grips her chest. Her shirt wrinkles underneath a shaking fist. “Maybe if I was you, I’d figure out a way to get back. Maybe I’d be happy, I’d still talk to Sasha and Marcy. Maybe I’d see my family again.” Her chest is caving in, it is a black hole, and she is spaghettifying into it, she is a supernova, she is exploding and destroying everything in her path.

She is everything.

She is nothing.

She is immortal.

She never lived.

She punches the mirror.

[anemptygun]

the lights installed amongst the ceiling tiles in the motel were constantly buzzing, constantly droning and meticulously reminding me they were always there.

i stood in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. my hands gripped the edge of the counter—i had to hold on to something to keep myself here. i felt like i was escaping myself, my body, and alone in this building during the night, i knew no one would catch me. if i run, i’m gone forever: soulless, aimless. i’d never find myself again. no longer contained inside a safe, permanent body, but forever roaming the earth as a mere mist, a mere entity, never to be seen again.

isn’t that what you asked for? that’s what you asked for… but now it sounded nightmarish to be stuck in this purgatorial place, forever roaming with no purpose.

i wish to die.

i studied my reflection, the churning in my gut telling me she was going to slip away from me at any given moment. i needed her. i needed her to show me i’m real, that i exist, and that i’m here.

she stared back. a blank expression planted on her face, and i couldn’t believe she wasn’t expressing what i was feeling on the inside. she looked like someone else. she looked like she was somewhere else.

i studied her. dried blood stained her skin: her nostrils, her lips. her face was battered and bruised, like she’d spent an eternity fighting in a boxing ring. dirt caked her hair. the foreign mud framed her face, making itself a home in between a few strands.

i stood still. my hands gripped the edge of the counter. the longer i stared at my reflection, the darker her eyes became. my scleras went from a shining white to a blaring black, a road sign to the deep night, so dark i couldn’t find the pupils.

she smiled at me, a wicked smile that looked like it was on the brink of insanity, the kind of insanity you can never return from. a wild grin, showing me all of my own teeth, black eyes widened until i saw the lashes touching the skin. i touched my mouth, feeling no trace of such smile.

she relished in my horror, in the way my eyes didn’t match hers, in the manner of which i no longer recognized myself—my whole self.

she slammed her head against the edge of the sink, pulling her head back up as quickly as she crashed it down. i could hear the bones breaking inside of my own skull, my face riddled with new blood. she slammed her head down again. and again. and again.

i saw her look at me. she was a mangled product of her own destruction. she held her hand out in front of her, spitting out her teeth and blood, pulling out any remaining teeth that were loosened in her jaws.

i realized the weakened, horrified whimpers leaving my mouth as i cried, my hands shaking uncontrollably as i hesitantly moved my fingers to my mouth. did she take my teeth? was that me? i felt the bones that were always wet with my spit, running my fingers along them to count each and every one. i squeezed my tongue feverishly, almost to make sure it was still there. then my lips. then my cheeks.

she laughed at me. god, she laughed at me. a maniacal cackle like that of a wicked witch or an evil demon. the way you see the infernal bodies parading the planet in the deep end of october.

the woman in my reflection began peeling off her skin—my skin—layer by layer, so thin and so fragile, like a pastry. as she approached the muscle, the bones, there wasn’t anything there: it was empty. hollow. living within the walls of my arms were maggots, feverishly crawling out of me as they noticed light. between her two fingers, she delicately picked one out of her limb, bringing it to her now toothless mouth. she ate it, and i felt my stomach churn once again at the thought of the small insect gliding against her fresh, bloody gums, and raining down the tunnel that is her esophagus as she swallowed.

everything smelled floral, almost beautiful and nostalgic, like a grandmother’s perfume. the scent cradled me before my mouth gushed with saliva, the tides of it crashing against one another like an ocean in a ferocious storm. i lunged to the toilet, not far away from me, vomiting everything i possibly could have in my system.

i stayed there, cradling the seat, afraid to leave the porcelain in case i’d look over and see her again. i don’t know who she is. the coldness helped me stay here in reality as my beaming hot skin pressed against the seat. is this real? what’s real? what is truly real, anyway?

on the brink of sleep, i forced myself away, unsure of how much time had passed. had it been minutes? had it been hours? had it been days? i felt pathetic as i let go of the toilet. i felt disgusted that i was so desperate for a safe haven that i gripped a place where countless others had placed their bare bodies before me.

the sun was coming up.

why?

[tbmunson]

I Want You | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're with your best friend Eddie, smoking in his room while he writes a song. Watching him turns you on. You excuse yourself to take care of the problem, but Eddie can hear you...

Warnings: SMUT 18+, drug use, swearing Dom!Eddie, oral (f receiving), some fingering, unprotected sex, p in v sex.

WC: 2.6K+

Masterlist

You sat on Eddie's bed, a joint hanging from your lips as you watched your best friend strum his guitar. You weren't sure if it was the weed or just nature that made your core ache as you watched his fingers work. You weren't sure how long you'd been fixated on him, but it was long enough for him to notice.

He took the chewed up yellow number 2 pencil from between his teeth and waved it in front of your face. "Whatcha looking at?"

Your eyes zoned back in and you shook your head slightly. "Huh?" Your brows furrowed as you watched him lean over and tug the joint gently out of your lips.

"You were staring." He tapped your nose gently before bringing the joint to his lips and taking a long drag.

"No I wasn't. I-I was watching." You lied, faltering slightly as a blush creeped up on your cheeks, tenting them pink.

"Mhm, and I suspect you're going red because it's hot, not because you're blushing." He smirked, still hunched over his guitar and paper at the end of his bed.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom." You stated, trying to get out of the situation you'd found yourself in.

He reached out, brushing his fingertips from your elbow to the tips of your fingers. "Try not to think about me too much, babydoll." His smirk weakened your knees.

To your dismay you let out a soft whimper, which you were sure he'd heard before you disappear from from his room. You didn't dare look at his face before you walked out.

You quickly darted into the bathroom, resting against the counter with your head hung to look into the slightly yellowed sink. You turned the water on, dipping your hands into the cool stream before pressing them onto your face. Part of you wanted to run out of the house and avoid this situation. The other part hoped Eddie would bust through the bathroom door and give you everything you've wanted right here on the counter.

You whimpered again, thinking about him knelt in front of you, licking your core as you sat on the counter, head against the same mirror you refused to look into as you moaned out his name. You were panting at the images in your head that made you dampen your underwear.

If you were going to be able to go back into that room you had to have some sort of release. You slowly pushed you hand into the waistband of your running shorts and pushed the crotch of your underwear to the side. Your middle finger slipped up and down your folds before rubbing small slow circles on your clit.

Involuntarily a moan slipped past your lips as you gripped the counter. You were surrounded by the scent of Eddie and it overwhelmed you. You continued to build yourself up, aided by the reminders of your best friend. You tried your hardest to suppress your noises but as you grew closer it grew harder to keep them at bay.

A knock on the door along with the simultaneous asking of, "Are you okay in there?" warranted a panicked, but moaned out "Yeah, Eddie." In response.

You froze, having just moaned out Eddie's name somewhere other than your empty bedroom in the middle of the night.

The doorknob twisted and you kicked yourself for not locking it when you entered. You watched through the mirror in horror as the door slowly fell open to reveal Eddie standing there, looking at you with your hand down your pants. You turned, quickly removing your hand and looked at him, face to face.

His eyes were darker than usual and a sinister smirk pulled at his lips as he scanned your body over. "Well, well. Looks like I interrupted. Go on, continue." He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"Eddie, that's not funny." You countered, trying hard to fight the tomato color from gracing your cheeks.

He let out a gruff laugh. "I'm not joking, sweetheart. I want you to show me what you were doing."

You lost the fight, feeling your cheeks heat quickly. "I wasn't doing anything." You lied better, smoother this time like your life depended on it.

Eddie shook his head and walked over to you, grabbing your hand and examining the slickness on it. "This doesn't look like nothing to me." He said, amused.

"That's a double negative Eddie, so it really doesn't-" Your attempt to deflect was shut down quickly as Eddie pulled you hand up to his face and captured your finger in his mouth. "Mmm." He moaned out as he left your flavor dissolve in his mouth. He pulled your finger out with a small pop. "Just as sweet as I thought you'd be."

Your head spun as you registered what he'd said. "You think about me?"

He nodded, pressing himself closer to you. "Yeah. I think you think about me too." He placed his hand on your hip as he grew closer to you. "Can I kiss you?"

You nodded, unsure of if your voice would even work.

"Uh uh. Use your words." He was so close you could practically taste him on the air.

"Yes." I was barely a whisper but it was good enough. Your lips were captured by Eddies and his hand rested on the side of your face. Honestly when you'd thought about your first kiss with Eddie, his bathroom, surrounded by his dirty clothes wasn't the first place that came to mind, but you didn't care at this point.

His other hand rested on your hip, pulling you close to him. His thumb wiggled it's way under your t shirt to rub the skin above your shorts. His touch sent chills through your body.

You moaned into his mouth before he pulled back to look at you. You pouted at the lack of contact, making him laugh.

"What were you thinking about while you were touching yourself?" Eddie asked, gently pushing a few hairs behind your ear.

You bit your lip, not wanting to hell him.

He used his thumb to tug your lip out before brushing over the tender skin. "You can tell me. It's okay." He said softly, his gaze flipping back and forth from your lips to your eyes.

You nodded and released the breath you hadn't realized you were holding. "I was thinking about me, sitting on the counter." You looked down, blushing before continuing. "With your head between my legs."

Eddie chuckled lowly, using his finger to lift your face back up to his. "I can make that reality, if you'd like."

You moaned at the idea before remembering his rule. "Yes, please."

"Look at you, using those words." He teased, stepping back from you. "Let's get rid of these, hm?" He hooked his thumb into the waistband of the shorts as you watched him. He tugged them, along with your underwear down gently, holding your hand for balance as you stepped out of them. "Look at the pretty little pussy. I can't wait to eat it up." He hummed more or less to himself, but you still hung on every word, getting wetter and wetter.

"Eddie." You whined as he stood back up.

"Yes, princess?"

"Can you please do something." The need was becoming too much and you were on the verge of tears as you begged.

He chuckled deeply and leaned down to kiss your neck. "Just as needy as I thought too." He commented before nipping and sucking a few places, marking you as his.

You moaned out as he found the right spots. You could feel the arousal starting to slowly drip down your leg as he teased you more and more, finding all of the right spots with ease.

His hand dipped down to trace your lower lips, smirking against the skin of your neck as he felt just how ready you were. In a swift motion Eddie's hands gripped your thighs just under your ass and he hoisted you up onto the counter. "Just so we're clear, I could have teased you for a hell of a lot longer."

You couldn't help the slight snap that came out of you. "Such a fucking gentleman. Eddie, do something please." You were whining by the end, causing Eddie to laugh,

"Forgive me if I want to savor this. You begging for me, pussy, dripping wet and on full display. It's something I'd like to remember." He said coming to stand between your spread legs. He leaned in for another kiss, but stopped centimeters from you. He pressed his thumb onto your clit, applying pressure as he slowly moved it around in a circle.

You let out a guttural groan at the unexpected contact. Your hands immediately went to gip his shoulders to keep you grounded.

"That was so hot. Fuck." He continued this motion for a bit longer before dropping to his knees, leaving you to grip the counters edge. Eddie removed his thumb and placed a light kiss to the swollen bundle of nerves before he sucked it lightly into his mouth.

You moaned out again, gripping as tightly as you could to the counter.

He gripped your thighs roughly, keeping you in place as his tongue slipped out of his mouth and explored your folds. He moaned against you, sending vibration into your core

"Oh, fuck. Eddie." Your thighs fought against his hands, which didn't budge. You knew you'd have bruises the size of his fingertips, which you wouldn't mind at all. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter as he continued. "Eddie. I'm gonna cum. Oh fuck."

He nodded and moaned against you again, sending you over the edge.

You hands moved from the counter to his hair as he continued to eat you through your orgasm. You moaned loud, pushing his head back as you felt the painful pleasure of overstimulation. "Eddie, please. I need a second." You begged, trying to catch your breath.

He stood up and licked his lips. "Oh we aren't done yet." He said, snatching you off of the counter to carry you to his room.

You were nervous as he placed you on the bed. "What are you gonna do now?" You asked nervously, fidgeting with your thumbs.

"Me?" He asked, pointing as himself as he went to put his guitar back on the wall. "I'm going to fuck you until you cum all over my dick, sweetheart."

You couldn't stop the whimper that escaped you. "Please." You begged, watching him slowly come back over to you.

He chuckled and in a swift motion pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the tattoos scattered across his skin. "You're such a good girl and one hell of a slut for me." He smiled, coming to a stop in front of you. He bent down, pressing a kiss to your lips before standing and pulling your shirt over your head, revealing the fact that you'd opted not to wear a bra in the sweltering heat.

"Goddamn." He mumbled, brushing his fingertips over the soft skin. He pushed you onto your back before leaning over to take a nipple into his mouth. He smirked as it pebbled against his tongue before be lightly brushed it with his teeth, making you moan.

His fingers twisted the other so it didn't feel neglected as he worked, leaving hickeys all over your boob before making his way across your chest to mark the other.

You mind felt like TV snow, static. You couldn't focus on anything since your body left like it was on fire with pleasure. Small whimpers and whines left your mouth as Eddie took you over.

"God those sounds are so pretty." He said before he rose from the bed.

You watched him as he unbuttoned his black jeans and stepped out of them. You couldn't look away as he rubbed himself through the black boxers he was left in.

"Are you okay with this? Is that what you want?" He asked, causing you to tear your gaze away from his lower half.

You started to nod before remembering he liked words. "Yes, Eddie. I want you. I've always wanted you." You couldn't stop the flow of words, letting your secret fall.

"I've always wanted you too, princess. Now, scoot up." His smile was genuine, causing one to spread across your face as well, as you settled onto the pillows at the top of the bed.

"Tell me if you change your mind. m'kay?" He said as he pulled his underwear down, letting his dick spring free.

You watched him as he made his way to the bed, crawling up towards you. "I want you." You repeated, never breaking eye contact with him.

He nodded, dropping his hand between your legs. His fingers circled your clit a few times before dipping down to enter your hole.

You moaned as the two fingers stretched you and curled inside of you, preparing you for what was to come.

After repeating the motions a handful of times Eddie removed his hand, soaked in your arousal and pumped it up and down his cock a few times. "Fuck I'm not even in you yet and you're gonna make me cum." He chuckled as you twitched your hips towards him, your body begging for him.

"I need you, Eddie, please." You whined, reaching up and resting your hands on his back, just behind his shoulders.

"Okay princess." He said as he lined himself up. "You ready?" He asked, applying enough pressure for you to know he was there, but not enough to enter.

"Yes."

That was the last confirmation he needed before he pushed into you, stretching you as you dug your nails into his shoulder blades.

"Fuck you feel so good. Oh god." He groaned, tucking his face into your neck.

You felt him bottom out and pause, waiting on your word. "Move, Eddie. Please." You begged in a hushed whisper to his ear.

He did as you asked and began slowly thrusting as he kissed your neck.

You whimpered with every thrust into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his pace picked up, sure that you'd adjusted to him by now.

He pushed himself up with one hand, the other gripping your hip to keep you in place. His eyes moved back and forth between your bouncing tits and your face as he pounded into you, hitting your spot every time.

You felt the knot tightening again, causing you to grip at the sheets and moan out, back arching. "Eddie." You whined, unable to say anything else.

He could feel your walls starting to close around him so he released your hip to hold your face. "Look at me princess. I wanna see you when you cum on my dick." He held your face in his hands and you nodded, pulling at the sheets as the knot snapped, sending you over the edge again.

You more or less screamed out, convulsing slightly but never breaking eye contact with Eddie as you shook under him. You knew he was close, his strokes sputtering until the stopped and he bowed his head back into the crook of your neck. You could feel his hot release mix with yours inside of you as you slowly came down from the high.

Eddie made a move to slowly pull out of you before standing from the bed. "I'll be right back, princess." He said and walked out of his bedroom door before returning with a damp cloth. "Let me clean you up." He said, resting on his knees, between your legs.

You watched him slowly, carefully clean you up, making brief eye contact with you to make sure you were alright. He was humming your favorite KISS song as he did. You couldn't help but fall deeper in love with him.

This is my first smut post. I really hope you enjoy. If you have any requests I would be more than happy to oblige! Thanks for reading!