Sometimes, I Think About How I Used To Let Life Overwhelm (still Do, But Not As Bad), And I'd Take It

LADS men finding out you SH

Part 2 - Zayne

tags: self-harm, neglect, gore, panic attack, hurt/comfort (kinda), angst, fluff and angst

!!By clicking ahead you are consenting to viewing media with disturbing topics!!

Zayne had his suspicions. Since you were younger, he would catch a glimpse of scabbing and blood on your wrists. He knew that you didn't know that he knew.

He was fifteen when he fully registered the cause behind your cuts. From that moment onward he vowed to help you in any way he could. But he couldn't help himself from being distant. A part of him wanted you to heal on your own, like he believed you could. Another part wanted to kiss your scars and hold you tight to his chest.

The years you were apart were more stressful than getting his doctorate. You lived in the back of his mind, constant worries and concerns about your well-being would flood his head once he had a moment of rest.

Becoming your PCP was a blessing in disguise. At first, he was wary. You'd become a Hunter since he'd been away, risking your life to protect Linkon City. He thought having a violent outlet would give you less reason to hurt yourself. How foolish.

Your monthly check-ups were nothing special. Zayne would run tests on your heart and you'd get on with your day. It was the yearly physical that caused you problems.

You walk in the automatic doors of Akso Hospital, smiling to Yvonne as she checks you in. Your knee bounces rapidly as you wait for your name to be called, prompting the elderly man two seats away form you to watch you with concern.

You shoot from your seat as Yvonne calls your name, taking you to the examination room. The routine checks and measurements blur as your anxiety peaks. Then it's just you in the room. You stare at the gown in your lap.

You had gotten carried away the night before, cutting deeper than you wanted. Your skin had split, giving you a view of the veins beneath your epidermis. You had panicked, using a plaster as a makeshift suture and wrapping it tightly. You knew you needed stitches, but you refused to ask for help. You hid the bandages with bracelets and ignored it.

Zayne is perceptive, he notices. You hope he doesn't this time.

Reluctantly standing, you change into the hospital gown. You shiver at the cold hospital air against your back, the scars lining your thighs becoming more visible against the gooseflesh.

Just as you sit back on the exam table, a knock raps at the door.

"It's Dr. Zayne. May I come in?"

"Yeah."

The door opens and Zayne steps through, placing his clipboard on the counter and turning to you. His eyes meet yours and you feel exposed. Behind the cold exterior you find masked concern, a slight tilt in his brows.

"Today's visit is for your yearly physical, correct?"

You nod, playing with your fingers. Zayne pulls the rolling stool over, taking a seat. He senses your anxiety, so he narrates everything he does.

Scooting away a bit, he speaks, "I need to do a skin check. The Hunter's Association is requiring it as of the new year." Zayne meets your gaze, "Are you comfortable with me conducting it? Or would you rather one of my female colleagues?"

Your heart stops. A skin check!? Why would the Association mandate a skin check? Your hands start to tremble, your breath quick and shallow. Zayne immediately catches the signs of a panic attack, and is kneeling beside you before you can even blink. He keeps his hands on his knees, his voice calm as he calls your name.

"Can you hear me?" He asks, his voice is soft and level. You blink rapidly, your vision blurry with tears. Zayne hovers his hand by yours, looking into your unfocused eyes. "May I touch you?"

You shake your head, gasping a breath. He changes his question.

"What do you need?"

You whimper, hugging your shoulders, "I don't know," you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, your lip trembling as more tears wet your face. You repeat yourself, your chest stutters.

Zayne moves closer, but is careful not to touch you. "Can you look at me? I'm not going to hurt you."

Gasping for breath, you struggle to meet his gaze. He smiles softly at you, praising you for looking at him. "Breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. I've got you, you're alright."

Inhaling shakily, you copy his exaggerated breathing. He guides you through each breath. He rests his hand near yours, giving you the option of holding him if you need. Feeling your lungs expand with every inhale gives you something top focus on.

"That's it, you're doing great," he praises, "Good, keep breathing with me."

Zayne's soft smile doesn't leave his face. He keeps his eyes on yours, monitoring you as you gradually calm. You grasp his hand, squeezing it. He reciprocates, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He glances to the bracelets on your wrist, but keeps quiet.

"There we go, you're alright." Zayne's hand squeezes yours, his soft assurance grounding you. You lean forward, dropping your head onto his shoulder. He tilts his head, gently pressing his cheek to your hair. "I've got you, you're safe."

You stay like that for a while, letting your tears dry. You lean back, taking your hand from his to wipe your face. Zayne stays close, watching you with soft concern. You smile weakly at him, taking a deep breath. He carefully places his hand on your knee, rubbing soft circles with his thumb.

"Are you alright now?" He prompts, brows slightly furrowed.

You shrug, "Not quite, but better."

Zayne nods, rising to his feet. "I want to make sure you're alright before we continue with the examination."

"I'm okay, I just..." You take a deep breath, looking at your lap, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he chides, squeezing your knee softly, "I'm here to make sure you're healthy, not to judge you. For anything."

Blinking, you look up at him. His gaze is knowing, concerned. Your voice is soft when you whisper, "...You know?"

Closing his eyes, Zayne nods, "I've known for a long time now."

Fresh tears well behind your eyes. Your hands are shaky as you rub the tears away. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted you to overcome this on your own..." He starts, looking away, "I believed that becoming a Hunter would give you a different outlet."

"Zayne..." you murmur.

He turns away, retrieving supplies and gloves. "Please, let me see. I stood back for long enough, I'm not letting you do this anymore."

You nod, pulling your lip between your teeth. You take off your bracelets with trembling hands, struggling with the clasp of one. A scarred hand enters your vision, carefully unhooking the clasp and unwinding the bracelet from your wrist. Zayne's eyes drop when he sees the blood seeping through the bandages.

He looks up at you, his fingers pinching the tape securing the bandage. You nod, looking away. Unwinding the bloodied bandages is tedious, carefully working it off. Your blood worked like glue, the fabric adhered to the wound.

Zayne wets a towel with warm water and holds it to the last layer of bandage, moistening the dried blood. Circling the wound with the towel, he eases the bandage from the wound, without pulling off the scab. He carefully wipes the blood away, his eyes widening slightly as he sees the extent of the cut.

"You needed stitches." He states. Your skin has already started healing, leaving a wide gap between the edges of your epidermis. Zayne shakes his head, retrieving the rubbing alcohol and dabbing a soaked cotton ball over it.

You hiss, your shoulders tensing. You grip your arm by your elbow, curling your fist to deter the sting. Zayne sighs sadly, a frown carved on his face. He repeats the process a couple times, ensuring that it's clean before he continues.

The ointment is cold, but not unbearable. Zayne makes quick work of bandaging your wrist, securing the end with medical tape. He removes his gloves, setting them with the soiled bandages and takes your hand in his. He raises your joined hands, bringing them up to his face.

"I know you're addicted, but I can't bear it anymore," Zayne presses a featherlight kiss to the inside of your wrist, just above the cut. "Seeing you hurt yourself is worse than hell itself. I'm begging you, please don't do this to yourself." His lips forge a trail, kissing over the dozens of overlapped scars on your arm.

Hazel eyes shine with tears as they meet your gaze. Shame rears its ugly head in your stomach, making you feel nauseous. Your cheeks wet, your free hand covering your mouth to muffle your sobs. You collapse into his chest, your tears wetting his lab coat.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. Your shoulders tremble with each sob. Zayne wraps his arms around your shoulders, his own tears falling silently into your hair.

Real

rather have a headache from not eating, than feeling bloated from binging

Crying.

➢𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏

I decided to hop on this and give it a try :). Basically I’m gonna be writing each day of October a different prompt, I already picked the mcyt that I’m gonna use for each one. Since this is NSFW the only people I’ll be writing for are the dream team, Karl and Punz. I hope you like it<3!

Edit: This is all based on AUs which means the boys are not cc! Unless stated otherwise.

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏: Cockwarming | KARL JACOBS

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐: Cuckolding | DREAM + SAPNAP

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑: Restraint | DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: Gagging/throatfucking | PUNZ

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟓: Humiliation kink | DREAM TEAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔: Impact play | GEORGE

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: Somnophilia | GEORGE

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟖: Hand kink | DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟗: Roleplay | SAPNAP

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎: Gangbang | DREAM TEAM + KARL + PUNZ

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟏: Spectrophilia/incubus | PUNZ

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: Foursome | DREAM TEAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟑: Mommy kink | DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟒: Voyerism | GEORGE + DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓: Daddy kink | KARL JACOBS

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟔: Pegging | SAPNAP

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟕: Hate sex | DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟖: Breeding kink | DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: Mutual masturbation | GEORGE

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟎: Thigh riding | PUNZ

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟏: Phone sex | GEORGE

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟐: Sex toys | KARL JACOBS

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟑: Squirting | DREAM TEAM + KARL

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟒: Corruption kink | KARL JACOBS

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟓: Shower sex | KARL JACOBS

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟔: Dry humping | GEORGE

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟕: Sex tape | DREAM

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟖: Size kink | PUNZ + SAPNAP

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟗: Knife play | SAPNAP

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: Orgy | DREAM TEAM + KARL

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟏: Public sex | DREAM

Tags;

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

I think some of you forgot that autistic people sometimes act strange and say things that are poorly worded and speak with incorrect tone and misunderstand or miss social cues because they are autistic

Scent

Miguel O’Hara X f!reader

Summary: It was an intoxicating scent. And he knew it was yours. (In which Miguel goes feral when you ovulate)

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: Language. Obvs. S m u t. Obvs. Oral, f receiving. P in V (no protection), cum eating. Cheesy probs. Reader says Miguel’s name a lot lmfao not beta read.

Minors DNI.

Honestly, I don’t know how any of this stuff works. This is some bullshit and none of it makes sense. Enjoy.

Keep reading

NSFW — caleb would loatheeee you trying to be quiet. he’s waited so long to have you this way after all the daydreams and fantasies that would distract him. the ones that would make him reread his source articles in academy because the image of your collarbones in that v neck from your hangout blurred the lines, the ones that would make him improvise in conversation with friends because he was too busy thinking about kissin up your spine to hear what they said. and after all that you want to hide away from him. uh uh.

he’d finally have you sprawled out on his huge comfy California king, pressed under the weight of his body in a nasty prone bone. his shoulders and sculpted biceps would be caging you in and his forehead would rest gently in the crook of your neck, suffocating in the smell of your sweat mixing with the perfume you always wear that drives him insane. you were completely trapped and it was delicious.

but here you were, shoving your face into the pillow and squeezing your eyes shut in hopes to find the strength to stop being so loud. your were embarrassed at how primal he could make you sound like your noises were being ripped from your chest at the feeling of him.

he’d hear the hitch of struggle in your voice once and his eyes shoot open and his brows pinch together. he lifts his head to look at you through droopy eyes. ‘w’ya doin’‘ he slurs firmly. ‘stop it.’ he wheezes and shifts to lean on his forearm and uses his other hand to grip your jaw and tilt your head up.

you let out a gasp into the thick sticky atmosphere but you still don’t seem to ease up and he whines in something close to agony at your muffled noises. ‘nooo please baby sing for me gimme ‘ur pretty voice.’

he’d get so impatient that he hooks his thumb into your mouth and pries it open, moaning at the drool that trickles down his wrist. he starts to fuck you as if he’s trying to thrust through you and you can’t help but cry out in bliss, right into his ear, as he rams right into that sweet spot that’s just for him.

it was like a mountain was just lifted off of his shoulders and the relief coursed through him like euphoria. ‘my pretty girl. nothin’ t’be scared of stop hidin fr’me. let caleb hear you, let him hear baby’ he’d coo absentmindedly. he has to try like never before not to cum in you right then.