Philophobia and its Ironic Consumption (sporadic updates)

Philophobia and its Ironic Consumption (sporadic updates)

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização sáb, jun 25, 2016
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Fanfic
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Its a weird itching sensation. It stings and makes your skin crawl whenever you go without it for so long. But you can't get rid of it. No matter how many times you try to change, no matter how muh you promise to stop it just keeps. coming. BACK! It's so overwhelming that it burns yours skin and claws at you from the inside out until you snap and induldge on its sweet, bitter, and filthy content. If Harry had to describe his addiction thats /exsactly/ how he would do it. And when he's done, breathing heavy, body numb, mind hazy and covered in hot seduction; he has the overwhelming feeling to clean up after himself before he dose what he despises most. On the other hand, his addiction brings him something gorgeous. it embodies peace and courage. All he's ever wanted and never had. But it forces him to conquest his biggest fear and break his only rule. Dont. Fall. In Love.
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niallhoran
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*WARNING* Drug use and nonconsensual sex When Harry gets home, after he's dragged his sore body up the stairs, he lays on the tile floor under the scalding hot water in the shower, fully clothed, until it runs freezing cold over him. He tries to cry, to do something to make his body feel normal, but he can't. It's like his soul was torn from his body and left on that floor. He scratches at his skin and scrubs the parts of his body that aren't covered in clothes trying to clean himself of the night. It doesn't work. When he looks at himself in the mirror, his tongue is still blue from the pills, his skin is red, bruised, and cut from his nails, and there's still bright red lipstick stuck to his skin like a tattoo.

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