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word count: 2,118
warnings: suicidal ideation, graphic descriptions of violence, blood, language, etc. DO NOT READ IF THESE TOPICS TRIGGER YOU
description: Reader is desperately looking for a way out, yet J refuses to play into that trap; Reader finds themselves beneath the crushing weight of society and J steps in to remind them how little others care.
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You had managed to hide how you felt from J for quite some time, but even you were not capable of keeping these sorts of thoughts buried within your mind, especially with the temptation of all of J's weapons lying around.
Panic had begun to set in this particular night and you felt your heart beating rapidly as you searched high and low for one of J's precious blades. You had seen several earlier, though now it seemed they were nowhere to be found. Perhaps he had retrieved them before he left the house, however you doubted it. There was always at least one hidden within your home, sometimes several...if you knew where to look.
You tossed the cushions off the sofa and yanked the carpet back to check underneath. You ripped contents out of drawers, sheets off beds and clothes out of closets.
Nothing.
After having effectively scoured your home from top to bottom, you had dropped to the floor as you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. You clutched your stomach, feeling disgusted with yourself for even considering such a senseless act, but you could not take it much longer. The desire you had within yourself to find peace was greater than you had ever experienced before and you were not strong enough to battle it alone.
This part of life was not something easy to discuss or explain or ask for help with, but in that moment you knew you were powerless to maintain control of it all on your own. You were fighting a losing battle and you were ready to let yourself sink below the tumultuous current; thoughts, sickening thoughts, came swirling into the forefront of your mind and you let them come, brutal as they were.
You imagined what it would be like if J himself were to give you your end. Some dark part of you even wanted him to do it and the idea almost brought a smile to your face the longer you entertained it.
You wanted to feel him plunge the blade deep into your chest and twist. You wanted to experience every deep incision from his most trusted weapon of choice. Even if you were unable to go through with it, even if you tried to back out once it was already too late, you wanted to be unable to remove the knife from his powerful grip. No matter how hard you screamed or cried or pleaded for him to stop...you wanted him to do it.
