Slashers x Male Reader Oneshots

|Bandages|Stu Macher

This chapter contains self harm, skip if you are uncomfortable
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I told Stu I was going to get better. I really tried, but it all came crashing down. I knew I was hopeless from the start. I've always struggled with helping myself. How can you help something you don't love?

Stu was out of the house. I didn't know when he'd be back. I'd grabbed a hoodie, walked into the bathroom, and found my razor. I took the blade and cleaned it with alcohol. I know I'm stupid for coping with life by hurting myself, but I wasn't stupid enough to give myself an infection.

I also grabbed some bandaging from under the sink, just in case.

I then sighed. Was I actually going to do this? Break my winning streak? Stay a disappointment?

But my emotions pushing me to do it were too much. I set me hoodie on the toilet and stood in the mirror without a shirt on. I held my arm over the sink as I grabbed the blade. I started at the bend in my arm, slicing a horizontal line into my skin. And then another just above it. And then another above that.

'I'm such a fucking pussy.' I thought to myself. 'Stu's gonna be so disappointed.' And then I stopped. I hadn't realized how many engravings I'd marked my skin with. I felt sick as my eyes began to water.

'Stu's gonna be so disappointed in me.'

'Look at what you did.'

'Mom and dad were right, you are pathetic.'

Your head was clouded with negativity. Your eyes filled with sorrow. Your heart filled with regret. Your arm began to shake with weakness. You turned on the sink and set it to cold water.

'You fucking freak.'

The water stung on my new wounds. God, it stung so bad. But I held my arm there. Even when the pain was becoming unbearable. Even when tears spilled down my face. Even when my legs were giving out. Even when my head became fuzzy.

Because I deserved it.

'You broke a promise.'

'You deserve to feel hurt.'

'You've made your bed, now lie in it.' If you were going to harm yourself, then you'll feel the pain that comes along with it. Because you were hurting someone.

My boyfriend. The one I loved most in the world.

I broke into a sob as I thought of how he'd look at me when he found out. The face of disgust and horror and disappointment.

'Why would you do this? You were supposed to be getting better!' I imagined him saying. 'I thought you loved me, but I guess you can't even keep one promise.'

You didn't even realize you'd fallen to the floor. You placed your back against the bathtub as you sobbed, harder and harder until you were an ugly mess. Red salty eyes, runny nose, and drool falling from the side of your mouth.

How could a creature, a freak, such as yourself be loved?

You should've done more. You should've bled yourself dry, painted the floor red, filled the sink like it was a punch bowl. You should've sent your mortal body into a sleep it'd never awake from. But you couldn't. You'd stopped yourself.