Categories > Original > Drama
Disgusting Love
0 reviewsAisling hasn't told Dylan yet and now she understands why. Warnings just in case, further warnings inside. Companion piece to "And Then There Were None".
0Unrated
A/N:
Extra warnings: Talk of suicide, self-harm, coarse language.
This was meant to be just a little bit of smut but it morphed into this instead. This turned out a lot more personal than I expected too - if you want to ask questions, feel free, I'm willing to share. But as always, please heed the warnings and thank you for reading :)
DISGUSTING LOVE
For all the ways in which Dylan was bad for me, the sex was the one thing I never tired of. He knew my body in a way no one else did. With the slightest shift, he could make me weep with joyous pleasure. He knew just what to do to unravel me and once we started, we struggled to stop.
Which is why making out on my bed this particular afternoon was a terrible idea.
He’d come over when I came home from school. I’d had a bad day and when I did, he had this tendency to try and fix it with trails of kisses all across my skin. From my mouth he’d trailed lines down my jaw and neck, lingering over my jugular to suckle gently before progressing to my collarbone. The outcropping of covered bone was now cloaked in purple bruises from where Dylan had claimed me and as he slipped a hand beneath my shirt, I felt the panic rise.
We’d had sex a lot by this point but we’d never done it where he could see my skin in perfect light. Dylan didn’t know I cut myself – if he did, he was a very good liar, which didn’t really surprise me. I lifted a hand to his cheek, pulling him back up and kissing him full on the mouth as I ground our hips together. It was an awkward distraction and it didn’t last long but it was enough to try and figure out a plan to explain the scars and cuts littering my body.
Dylan pulled up my shirt, moving his lips to my flat stomach. I bit my lip as my hands tangled in his brown waves and his tongue dipped into my belly button. He hummed softly before he pushed my shirt over my breasts and I released his head briefly to discard the garment. When I looked back down, I was met with his wide brown eyes watching me in horror.
“What the fuck is this, Ash?” he whispered, his voice breaking.
“I can’t help it – it’s just something I need to do feel… I need to do this to love you-”
“You need to hurt yourself to love me?” Dylan asked, overtly repulsed by the idea. He pushed himself away from me and off of the bed. His faced was flushed, angry, and as I sat up, I pulled a blanket over me to hide the shame.
“I don’t need to do this to – I love you but sometimes – it just hurts.”
“It hurts? You think it hurts not being able to love me without fucking destroying yourself?! I’m in love with someone who’s having an affair!”
“What?!” I asked, my heart breaking as the words played over in my mind.
“You’re in love with pain, Aisling – don’t tell me you can’t see that!” Dylan yelled, his eyes red with angry tears.
“I’m not – I just need this to feel, I mean, to feel better! You have to believe me!”
Dylan raised his hands and they flailed slightly as he tried to figure out what to do before giving up and throwing them back to his sides. “Of course I fucking believe you! I love you, Aisling! But I don’t know how to deal with this!”
“You don’t know how to deal with this?” I asked, totally broken. I had sat up now and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, my feet dangling. “How the fuck am I meant to deal with this? I’ve finally let you see the darkest part of me and you just start yelling at me!”
“You cut yourself, Aisling! You cut yourself and from what I can see, this isn’t a little thing you do every once in a while, when you argue with your parents or fail a really important exam. How am I meant to deal with a girlfriend who finds more solace in a razorblade than she does in me?!” Dylan was all out crying now and part of me wanted to console him but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to make this right. I was in pain and it hurt to hear the words coming from his mouth. I would never think to imagine how it hurt for him to say them.
“I need to get out of here,” Dylan murmured after a long silence. I stood, abandoning the blanket and running to Dylan, wrapping my arms around him in a vague attempt to get him to stay.
“Please Dylan, don’t leave – I love you, let me love you, we can still be together, we can still be us,” I gave up on words and tried kissing him but he pushed me away. I stumbled and fell to the floor, the rug shifting and revealing the ominous blood stain beneath.
I looked down, struggling to find the words to explain myself as I looked back up at Dylan. He shook his head, struggling to find words too.
“We will never be us again, Ash… Call me when you pull yourself together again.”
I reached towards him but the door was already slamming behind him. There was silence before I heard Frankie sigh beside me. I looked to him, seeing him bobbed down beside me with a resigned look on his face.
“I’m sorry, Ash.”
“It’s not your fault,” I replied, looking down at my lap.
“I won’t stop you tonight.”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea? I might kill myself out of desperation,” I scoffed, looking back up at the ceiling as fresh tears welled in my eyes.
“I know, but I also know that it’s best not to take away the option,” Frankie sighed as he moved a hand to try and rub my back.
“It wasn’t meant to turn out like this,” I croaked out before sobs and whimpers rippled through me. I leaned my head against Frankie’s invisible shoulder and let myself weep as he rubbed my back and pressed kisses to my hair.
“It’ll be okay, Ash. We’ll make it through this, too.”
Extra warnings: Talk of suicide, self-harm, coarse language.
This was meant to be just a little bit of smut but it morphed into this instead. This turned out a lot more personal than I expected too - if you want to ask questions, feel free, I'm willing to share. But as always, please heed the warnings and thank you for reading :)
DISGUSTING LOVE
For all the ways in which Dylan was bad for me, the sex was the one thing I never tired of. He knew my body in a way no one else did. With the slightest shift, he could make me weep with joyous pleasure. He knew just what to do to unravel me and once we started, we struggled to stop.
Which is why making out on my bed this particular afternoon was a terrible idea.
He’d come over when I came home from school. I’d had a bad day and when I did, he had this tendency to try and fix it with trails of kisses all across my skin. From my mouth he’d trailed lines down my jaw and neck, lingering over my jugular to suckle gently before progressing to my collarbone. The outcropping of covered bone was now cloaked in purple bruises from where Dylan had claimed me and as he slipped a hand beneath my shirt, I felt the panic rise.
We’d had sex a lot by this point but we’d never done it where he could see my skin in perfect light. Dylan didn’t know I cut myself – if he did, he was a very good liar, which didn’t really surprise me. I lifted a hand to his cheek, pulling him back up and kissing him full on the mouth as I ground our hips together. It was an awkward distraction and it didn’t last long but it was enough to try and figure out a plan to explain the scars and cuts littering my body.
Dylan pulled up my shirt, moving his lips to my flat stomach. I bit my lip as my hands tangled in his brown waves and his tongue dipped into my belly button. He hummed softly before he pushed my shirt over my breasts and I released his head briefly to discard the garment. When I looked back down, I was met with his wide brown eyes watching me in horror.
“What the fuck is this, Ash?” he whispered, his voice breaking.
“I can’t help it – it’s just something I need to do feel… I need to do this to love you-”
“You need to hurt yourself to love me?” Dylan asked, overtly repulsed by the idea. He pushed himself away from me and off of the bed. His faced was flushed, angry, and as I sat up, I pulled a blanket over me to hide the shame.
“I don’t need to do this to – I love you but sometimes – it just hurts.”
“It hurts? You think it hurts not being able to love me without fucking destroying yourself?! I’m in love with someone who’s having an affair!”
“What?!” I asked, my heart breaking as the words played over in my mind.
“You’re in love with pain, Aisling – don’t tell me you can’t see that!” Dylan yelled, his eyes red with angry tears.
“I’m not – I just need this to feel, I mean, to feel better! You have to believe me!”
Dylan raised his hands and they flailed slightly as he tried to figure out what to do before giving up and throwing them back to his sides. “Of course I fucking believe you! I love you, Aisling! But I don’t know how to deal with this!”
“You don’t know how to deal with this?” I asked, totally broken. I had sat up now and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, my feet dangling. “How the fuck am I meant to deal with this? I’ve finally let you see the darkest part of me and you just start yelling at me!”
“You cut yourself, Aisling! You cut yourself and from what I can see, this isn’t a little thing you do every once in a while, when you argue with your parents or fail a really important exam. How am I meant to deal with a girlfriend who finds more solace in a razorblade than she does in me?!” Dylan was all out crying now and part of me wanted to console him but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how to make this right. I was in pain and it hurt to hear the words coming from his mouth. I would never think to imagine how it hurt for him to say them.
“I need to get out of here,” Dylan murmured after a long silence. I stood, abandoning the blanket and running to Dylan, wrapping my arms around him in a vague attempt to get him to stay.
“Please Dylan, don’t leave – I love you, let me love you, we can still be together, we can still be us,” I gave up on words and tried kissing him but he pushed me away. I stumbled and fell to the floor, the rug shifting and revealing the ominous blood stain beneath.
I looked down, struggling to find the words to explain myself as I looked back up at Dylan. He shook his head, struggling to find words too.
“We will never be us again, Ash… Call me when you pull yourself together again.”
I reached towards him but the door was already slamming behind him. There was silence before I heard Frankie sigh beside me. I looked to him, seeing him bobbed down beside me with a resigned look on his face.
“I’m sorry, Ash.”
“It’s not your fault,” I replied, looking down at my lap.
“I won’t stop you tonight.”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea? I might kill myself out of desperation,” I scoffed, looking back up at the ceiling as fresh tears welled in my eyes.
“I know, but I also know that it’s best not to take away the option,” Frankie sighed as he moved a hand to try and rub my back.
“It wasn’t meant to turn out like this,” I croaked out before sobs and whimpers rippled through me. I leaned my head against Frankie’s invisible shoulder and let myself weep as he rubbed my back and pressed kisses to my hair.
“It’ll be okay, Ash. We’ll make it through this, too.”
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