#inrxins

send me ❤ and I will bold all that applies to your muse

I would kill for you. • I would make love to you. • I would fuck you. • I would protect you. • I would hurt you for a selfish cause. • I wish we had more in common. • I want nothing to do with you. • I want to see you cry. • I want a future with you. • I want to destroy your future. • I do not care what you do. • I am indifferent towards you. • I want children with you. • I love you ( platonically ) • I love you ( romantically ) • I love you like family. • You are my family. • I could fall in love with you. • I would lie for you. • I would fight by your side. • I will never let you go. • I would hold you while you cried. • I would hug you. • I want to kiss you. • I would stay by your bedside if you were ill. • I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. • I want to forget you. • I will never forget you. • I only want to make you proud. • I wish I could make you happy. • You deserve nothing. • I will never forgive you. • You confuse me.

♥ For mine to accidentally bite yours too hard while kissing. 

No thoughts could pulse through a state like this; a state James brought her to of impulse and desire and craving, ever craving his taste, his skin, his warmth. Somehow the man had taught her to desire and be desired, to feed her wants, and Garnet intended on doing just that. In her haste, pulling the man close, tugging on clothes in the chaste few minutes they had, the young woman bit down on his bottom lip– apparently far too hard, as the next thing gracing her tongue was the metallic taste of blood. 

“Mhmmmm, absolutely Rachel.” She cooed into the phone pressed to her ear, taking long easy steps as she looked around for her ex boyfriend. He always had a habit of getting jealous -- might as well see how he was doing. “Oh no, he was completely gorgeous. Gentleman. What-- whether I fucked him or not is between me and him, I don’t kiss and tell.” 

When her eyes finally set on the man, her lips curled into a knowing smile.  “I’ll talk to you later.” With a light tap of her manicured finger, the phone call was ended and those heels carried her closer to him. 

“Evening, dear. How was your night?”

Stasia woke from the nightmare screaming, sobs catching in her throat as tears tracked hotly down her face.  Blindly reaching into her nightstand she pulled out the baggie of coke and cut the lines on a small mirror, inhaling deeply,  then downing a couple of uppers. She’d do whatever she had to as long as it kept her awake. Grabbing her cigarettes and a book she scrambled towards her window, opening it and crawling outside. Leaning against the brick wall she dug for a cigarette, her breathing shaky, whimpers escaping her lips. Trying to make herself believe her father wasn’t inside waiting for her, that Tom was not lurking in the shadows, waiting for his prey.  Her hands shook, hiccuped breathe and whispered whimpers, she lit up, just realizing the blood from her nails tearing at her forearms.

send me a ‘✉’ for five times my muse didn’t text yours, and one time they did.

[ Text ] : I think he’s getting suspicious. I don’t know what 

               –Message Deleted

[ Text ] : I can’t stop thinking about you. When can we

               –Message Deleted

[ Text ] : An art exhibit just

               –Message Deleted

[ Text ] : I can’t do this anymo

                –Message Deleted