#i’m so miserable and alone rn

[pyrefection]

/vent post

if anyone has nice words, my job is making me come in tomorrow when i’m 90% sure i have covid

to stare at a screen for eight hours

in a room of fluorescent lights

i’m not upset nooooooo

[burningthetree]

hey google how to watch musicals without crying

[decafvillain]

.

[milo-is-rambling]

Day whatever it is recap!

[dreamersneverlose]

🫠

[nothingweirdhere]

my mum has decided to wake me up in the morning and basically force feed me my meds in the 30 seconds before i fall back asleep 😭 i hate that it worked

[threebyfours]

Dude my ex was on some BULLshit. I can’t believe I.. put up with that for THREE years and we were both miserable. The only difference is I never cheated or lied :)

[stevesgother]

i'll be your mirror - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.3k

Warnings - depictions of depression/anxiety, depressive episode, self neglect, cursing, mental health themes, non-sexual nudity

Contains - soft boyfriend steve helping you take care of yourself during a depressive episode

AN - man i am just pumpin fics out rn huh? i am NOT having a depressive episode rn, but if u are, ily. take care ~ emma <3

The previously soft flannel of your pillowcase was now stiff with mascara stained tears. A look outside your tiny window informs you that it’s started to snow, and suddenly you can’t remember the last time you left your room, let alone your apartment.

What’s supposedly meant to be the ‘most wonderful time of the year’ for everyone else, for you just feels like drowning in a thick, inky sea. The absence of twinkling, multicolored lights on your walls leaves the room bathed in an intimidating darkness, and you just can’t seem to bring yourself to leave the confines of your bed– it traps and keeps you there, not unlike sticky quicksand in a desert.

The landline that hangs on the wall just right of the kitchen has been ringing for at least a day and a half, whoever it is--consistent. There’s logically only one person it could be. There's only one person who still bothers with you when you’re like this.

You hear the jingling of a spare key being shoved through its matching lock, and the distinct rush of a draft being let in through an open door. There's no effort made to get up– to save face and pretend like you haven’t been rotting in your bed for days– you can’t bring yourself to feel anything other than apathy.

Heavy, booted footfall and the gentle sound of your name being called float through your thin apartment walls as your boyfriend makes his way towards the room you’ve been holed up in.

“Thought I might find you here,” he says as he clicks the door shut behind him, “brought you some soup,” he waves the tupperware container at you in an attempt to make it look enticing, but the sight just makes bile rise in your throat.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble into the sheets.

“You have to eat, baby,”

This is why you hadn’t been answering his calls. He too sweet for his own good, and you don't feel you deserve him, or his unconditional love for you-- so you just say, “I already ate,”

“You haven’t left this room in days,” he sets the plastic dish on your dresser next to the decaying vase of flowers his mom brought you on Thanksgiving, toes off his shoes and makes his way towards your bed. You feel the mattress dip under his weight, but your head is still buried in your pillow– a poor attempt at disguising how awful you look.

He rubs your back in slow, comforting circles. Steve’s only ever seen you like this a handful of times, and each time, it breaks his heart just a little bit more than the last. He wishes fiercely that there was something more he could do for you– that if he wasn’t able to take the pain from you altogether, then at least maybe he could be miserable with you– but instead, he brings you your favorite comfort foods, and waits with you for the storm to pass.

“I’ve been calling you for a few days,” he says, not unkindly, as he runs his fingers soothingly through your knotted hair, “was worried about you, you know?”

“I know,” you whisper, beginning to feel the sting of guilty tears, “I just didn’t want you to have to take care of me,”

“I want to take care of you,” he says matter-of-factly, “I love you, and I care about how your wellbeing,”

You reply with only a barely noticeable nod.

“How about we take a shower? Or a bath?” he offers, “I could wash your hair for you,”

“I just want to lay here,” you sniffle.

“I know, honey, but you’ll feel better,” he moves to kneel on the floor by your bed, and pushes the hair away from your face that's been plastered there by sticky tears, “I promise. And I’ll be with you the whole time, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper and he helps you sit up slowly; dizzy from how long you’ve been horizontal. He seals the deal with a gentle kiss pressed to the center of your forehead

–

In the bathroom, he sits you on the closed lid of the toilet and turns the shower faucet on and all the way to the left. While you wait for him to grab you both towels, you reluctantly stand and dare a glimpse at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is matted in places, the bags under your eyes are nearly blue and you've been in the same pajamas for three days too long. You hate how disheveled you look, and you don’t understand how Steve can stand to see you in such a state and still want to be with you. It’s all too much, and you begin to quietly weep.

“Okay, I threw the towels in the–hey,” his tone colored in concern as he reemerges from the hallway and sees you sobbing at your own reflection, “Baby–what’s wrong? C’mon, talk to me,” he says as he tries to sidestep in front of you and block your view of the mirror.

“I just–hate–I don’t–” you struggle to speak through gasps, feeling as though you’re trying to inhale through a straw.

“You have to breathe, sweetheart,” he tells you, this time a little more firmly, “Can you breathe with me?”

He counts for you both as you take synced, exaggerated breaths in increments of three seconds. In three, hold three, out three.

Once your breaths come more evenly, he tries again, “Now tell me what’s got you so upset, huh?”

“I just don’t want you to see me like this,” you tell him between hiccups, your cheeks blotchy and red from your sudden rush of tears.

“See you like what?” He looks genuinely lost, like he can’t comprehend what you could possibly be referring to.

You glimpse down at yourself, “I just look so–”

“--Beautiful?” He interrupts before you get the chance to insult yourself, “Strong? Brave? The most lovely person I’ve ever known? What??” He rambles, exasperatedly trying to understand how you don’t see yourself the way that he does.

You glance sideways back at the mirror, though your view is obscured by Steve’s shoulder now.

“Stop.” You’re startled by the stern clip of his voice, “Stop looking over there, and look at me,” he commands, gentler this time. His calloused hand cups your cheek and he thumbs away the tears that still threaten to spill, “You’re so wonderful, love. And I know you don’t see what I see, so I’m gonna see enough for the both of us, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur into the cotton shoulder of his t-shirt, one you’re quickly soaking with tears.

“Good, now let’s get you out of these clothes, yeah?” He lifts your arms over your head slowly, just enough to get you out of your soiled shirt.

–

After he washes your hair, and holds you firmly against his chest under the hot spray of water from the showerhead, he coaxes you into the living room to watch a movie with him on the couch.

The Breakfast Club plays quietly on your small, boxy television while you sit cross-legged on the floor in front of Steve. In a fresh pair of pajamas, the twisted and unkind corners of your subconscious feel less daunting. It doesn’t heal you, not really, but it’s a step in the right direction.

You sip on the soup Steve brought you from home–Minestrone, your favorite– as he runs a wide toothed comb through your damp hair.

“Want me to braid it, baby?” He asks.

“If you don’t mind?” You look back at him over your shoulder. He’s so pretty in the glow of the TV– looking down at you like you put the stars in the sky.

“Of course I don’t mind,” he chuckles, “You say the silliest things sometimes,”

And for the first time in days, a smile graces your features.

divider credit to @/enchantingthings-a

[moongreenlight]

GIRLIE PLS I NEED MORE YOUNG HOUSEWIFE x PRICE 😭😭

Instead of starting every ask response with “sorry it took me so long to get to this I suck” I’m just going to issue a blanket statement that I have like 45+ asks in my inbox rn and I get so overwhelmed looking at them that I just ignore them until I need to write something. I love you all for messaging me I love hearing your ideas and compliments please don’t stop sending them just bear with me as I sift through them. <3

Also- I got legit death threats on my first post like this. I’d like to make this ABUNDANTLY CLEAR that this is a LEGAL AGE GAP. It’s not grooming, it’s not predatory, it’s ENTIRELY LEGAL. You’re early twenties. He’s mid-to-late-thirties. Please do not bite my head off.

Anyway I’m back on my Price and his young housewife bullshit below the cut. Xoxoxo

Here’s the OG post if you need a refresher

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

There’s this scene in the MW3 campaign where Price and Farah are talking about where she got the missiles from and he’s trying to shoulder up with her, but she just shuts him down in the end. (Like always I hope you’ll trust me. Implicitly) (John Price the man that you are!!!!!!) and I really think that’s the household dynamic. He’s always the biggest in the room, but he’s got this incredible reverence and respect for women who can out-bitch him. Bends his rigid spine BACKWARDS for you. Would move mountains if you’d only ask.

Doesn’t always have to be serious things. Like maybe you’ve made friends with some moms in the neighborhood (it’s a point of pride for him that they’re all minimum 5 years older than you.) and they all go to this obscenely expensive Pilates class at six in the morning. You mention in passing that you’re signing up and the suburban white dad in him makes his ears perk.

“‘N how much ‘s this class going to cost me?”

“Dunno. Think it just goes on the account.”

“Course. Gym membership doesn’t cost enough as it is.”

And then all it takes is him seeing you in a matching workout set for all of his protest to die down. For SURE makes a comment about how he ‘didn’t know it’d be this worthwhile’

Loosely following that point, I think any real arguments get hostile very quickly. He’s not so egotistical that he won’t apologize, but I’m certain that it’s like pulling teeth to get him to that point. He can hold a grudge unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Borders heavily on immature when the two of you are in the thick of things. Starts shit just to start shit. (Secretly because he just loves makeup sex. Would rather eat you out until you’re sobbing than actually say the words “I’m sorry.”)

Having thoughts about him bringing you to some military ball. The both of you dressing up and sliding into the car that was sent for you just to sit on opposite ends of the backseat and not speak a single word. He burns through a cigar in record time and you toss back a few glasses of champagne. You both put on appearances getting out of the car. Hook your hand around his bicep while he shoves you inside with his hand on the small of your back. Hissing nasty quips back and forth about making this quick. Few hellos. Show your faces and then you can get home and get away from each other. Putting on appearances only goes so far, though, because when John is pissed- everyone feels it. Sucks the life out of a room and replaces it with an eerie feeling like a bomb’s about to go off.

He leaves you alone with a few other wives. Pulled away by Laswell with a promise of a ‘quick’ meeting. He comes back half an hour later fuming when he sees that somehow you’ve been pulled away from where he left you and found company chatting with his boys at the bar.

He gruffs some greetings before dragging you away by the arm so roughly that you have to stifle a yip.

“Are we leaving?”

“No.”

“So what is it, John? You’re making everyone think we’re miserable.”

“We are miserable.”

He’s yet to stop yanking you away. You have to do an awkward half-jog to follow him down a short hallway just outside the washrooms.

“Christ, would you just-“

“You look like a slag in that dress.”

He about throws you straight into the corner at the end of the hall. Muscles in his jaw ticking under the force that he’s using to grit his teeth.

“Sorry?”

His lips are brushing the shell of your ear. Bullying you further back into the wall. You’re entirely taken aback by his ferocity; especially because he usually prefers you wear something much more revealing than this. Some twisted point of pride, him seeing all the men your age drooling over you even after knowing you’re on his arm.

“Ought to let the boys pass you around. See if that won’t sort out that fucking attitude of yours.”

Theres some more protest from you, but it was entirely useless given how worked up he was. He ends up making good on his threat and shoving you into Ghost’s side when he brings you back out. He says something, but you can barely hear it over the blood rushing in your ears. Though you assume it’s a half-warning, half-explanation by the way Ghost snakes an arm loosely around your waist and gives a sharp nod. You get off relatively easy all things considered because Ghost is the only one smart enough not to take Price’s words at face value and sneak you away to some coat closet. That’s a permission granted only when John was present and in his right mind.

I cannot stress enough how much it gets him off to see you pregnant. Not like sexually, but he is nothing if not a glutton when it comes to feeding his ego. Likes it when you wear shirts that hug your swollen belly tight so he can see exactly how much your body is changing. Even better if they’re crop-tops that show off the skin that’s now littered with stretch-marks from growing his babies.

I have been saying this, but just to make it clear, he wants a small army of children. Like enough to have one of those trashy reality TV shows about how many kids you have. (In reality I’m getting 4/5 kids in total vibes) Loves coming home from work and seeing you carefully stirring a big pot on the stove while bouncing a baby on your hip, pulling a clingy toddler around on your leg, and situating your school-aged kids with their homework at the table.

But he most definitely hires a live-in nanny to help you out. Knows it’s not fair to leave you with that kind of responsibility. But also it just makes him so hot to see you mothering his kids that he needs to be able to take you away and not have to scramble to find something to occupy the kids.

Makes the nanny take over bath time more often than not so the two of you can take a bubble bath yourselves. He loves the casual intimacy of pouring two glasses of wine and having thirty or forty minutes to yourselves.

Having this visual of you before you’ve started having kids sitting in the tub after being strangely quiet all night. He offers you a heavily-poured glass of red and you’re a little glassy-eyed and staring up at him but making no move to take it.

“You alright, doll?”

“Mm?”

“Said you alright? Don’t want a drink?”

A long moment of silence from you. Long enough for him to perch on the rim of the tub and gently tip you up to look at him by putting a few fingers under your chin.

“John, I think I’m pregnant.”

“So no drink, then.”

[hungermakesmonsters]

(Once Bitten) Twice Shy

Chapter Fifteen

Plot summary : Desperate to get away from your controlling family, you take a job in New York as a wealthy vampire's blood source. A million dollars awaits if you can make it through a year, but life with Billy Russo is not going to be as simple as you think.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R  Chapter Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut and angst. All chapters will contain mentions of blood. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.4k

A/N : I'm sorry for using the word buttocks. I'm deeply ashamed rn...

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN

MASTER LIST

Chapter Fifteen

Sleeping in until three in the afternoon helped you skip the worst of your hangover, but you didn’t feel any better. In fact you felt like shit.

You hated what you’d done to Matt, hated that you kept dragging Karen into your problems and, most of all, you hated that you kept letting Billy have so much power over you. Something needed to change, you weren’t prepared to carry on that way. You’d reached your lowest point, felt broken in a new and more painful way.

It had to stop.

The idea came upon you slowly, starting as an insidious notion while you were eating breakfast that only seemed to become more insistent as you showered.

You needed to leave.

Every reason you had to stay had evaporated last night. You didn’t belong here with any of them - maybe you didn’t belong anywhere at all. And you were just so so tired of every day feeling so miserable and alone.

Before you really knew what you were doing, you’d stepped out into the penthouse and made your way to the elevator, to the intercom, to your only way out.

The intercom crackled and buzzed far louder than you expected. You hit the button twice and then waited. It was the middle of the day, Lissa was probably sleeping, but impatience got the better of you and you hit the button again. You barely noticed the tears that were rolling down your cheeks, your finger jabbing the button again.

“What are you doing?” 

His voice filled the penthouse and, for a moment, you didn’t dare turn around, you just kept pushing the intercom, over and over, not wanting to face him.

“I said -”

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you finally turned. 

He was right behind you, far too close for comfort. Billy seemed taken aback by your tears and you took that moment of confusion to pull away from him and to start moving back towards your rooms.

“You win,” you told him, barely keeping your voice from breaking. “I’m done. I’m leaving.”

“What?” 

There was hurt in that word, a pain that he didn’t deserve an ounce of pity for but, still, it turned your stomach to think that you might have upset or hurt him in any way. But that was the difference between you and him, you cared about his pain while he barely even seemed to notice yours.

“I’m leaving,” you said again, “I quit.”

“No,” he said like he didn’t understand, like he couldn’t figure out what had led to the decision. 

“No?” You repeated, heartache and anger filling your voice. How dare he try to fight for you now. “You don’t get to tell me no after everything you’ve done to me, Billy.”

“I -” he started and stopped, uncertain which of his many crimes against you that you were most upset about. “I'm sorry. I fucked up, I know I fucked up, but -”

Against your better judgement you stopped dead in your tracks and turned to face him.

“But what? What excuse do you possibly think you have for keeping me prisoner and lying to my friends?” You asked, your voice getting louder each time he made you respond to him. “This is what you wanted.”

“I didn't want this.” His voice rose to match yours, almost frantic. “I just needed time to -”

“What? Find someone else?” You snapped. “Two someone else’s? Did you take them all to bed last night?”

“No,” he answered just as sharply. “I wanted to - before you, I would have - but they aren’t you. You’re the only one I want.”

“Am I supposed to believe that? After all the lies?”

“I just spent the last few weeks trying to get you out of my head, but I can’t.” An uneasy desperation started to fill his voice, every word sounding more fraught than you’d ever heard him. “You’re like sunlight, I - I can’t stop thinking about how you feel and, when I’m not with you, I miss you so fucking much.”

“Stop lying to me!” Your own voice turning just as fraught, hating that he was doing this to you now that you’d made the difficult decision to leave.

You started moving again, getting closer to the door leading to your rooms and, of course, Billy realised that if you reached your bedroom, he wouldn’t be able to follow. When you tried to open the adjoining door, you soon found his hand on it, stopping you. You turned, pressing back against the wood, trying to create some space between you as you glared at him, silently demanding he move.

“Please, just listen to me,” he tried again.

“Why?”

“Because losing you would kill me.”

His confession seemed to suck all the air from the room and, while every rational part of you was screaming at you not to believe him, the way he said it sounded so certain, so raw. 

“You wanted to send me away,” you told him again. “You wanted me to leave.”

“I wanted you to be safe,” he said, his gaze dropping to your broken arm, his voice breaking. “Just look at you, look what I did...”

He’d been so cold and emotionless after it had happened, when he’d first asked you to leave, but hearing him now, seeing the look on his face... you finally understood just how much the situation had fucked him up. It seemed like your decision to leave had unnerved him enough to force some honesty from him.

You couldn’t speak. It felt like all the anger had drained from you and, instead, there was something else inside you, the sort of pain that you couldn’t put a name to. He’d hurt you. Over and over. And you weren’t going to make excuses for him, but now he was finally letting you see how much it had hurt him too, it left you feeling unsettled.

“I thought I could let you go if it meant you’d be safe,” he muttered, his gaze still fixed on your cast.

“And now?”

You watched as he took a shuddered breath, tension coiling in his body as he struggled to find the words. The silence seemed to stretch on and all you could hear was the echo of your heart, pounding in your chest. And you knew Billy could hear it too. 

With every second that passed in silence, you started to lose hope.

“You terrify me,” he confessed in a whisper. “Everything about you, the way you make me feel; it’s all terrifying to me. And I can’t - I don’t understand it.”

You didn’t dare speak, wanting him to continue without prompt or provocation. Anything he said had to be because he wanted to say it. This was his chance to finally be honest and lay all of his cards on the table before you left. So, you waited, barely breathing as he seemed to fight with every rational part of himself to say the words.

“I wish I could stop feeling like this. I wish I could just let you go.”

“Why can’t you?” Your voice broke as you tried to hold back a flood of fresh tears. “You don’t want me, so why keep me here?”

“Stop saying that. Of course I want you. It kills me how much I want you,” he told you, still not looking at you, still staring at your arm, his head hung. “But it kills me just as much knowing that I’ll lose you no matter what I do. Even if you stayed by my side the rest of your life, and I’d still have to watch you grow old and slip away from me.”

Your breath caught, realising you’d never thought of it that way. When you’d told him you wanted to stay, you hadn’t been thinking about the future, about spending your life with him. But Billy wasn’t like you, a year to him would seem like nothing in the grand scheme of things. So would your lifetime. 

“You’ll grow old and die, and you’d miss out on so much because of me. There’s so many things I can’t give you… so many things you deserve...”

The thing that hurt most of all was how he’d obviously thought all of it through, how he’d considered what a future together would look like, but he hadn’t once tried to talk to you about it to find out what you wanted.

“I know I can’t keep you, but it’s just -” he let out an agitated huff “- it’s not fair. You’re the one person who makes this life, this existence bearable, and you hate me. You were the best thing to happen to me and I ruined it. I just wanted a little more time...”

Finally he looked up, his jaw clenching uncomfortably, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I don’t want to hurt you again but I don’t want you to go,” he almost pleaded. “Please, don’t go...”

It was your turn to talk, the moment to stick to your guns and tell him you were leaving, but the words just wouldn’t come. Tears were still rolling down your cheeks and you hated how much pain you were both in. Finally, he’d been honest and it was enough to make you wish he’d stuck with his lies.

“Please, say something,” he said after a minute had passed in silence.

“I’m tired, Billy,” you confessed, “I’m so tired of everything always being a fight or an argument...” 

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I’ve put you through all of this.”

He dared to reach for you, his fingers brushing over the back of your hand, a ghost of a touch. But that touch was a comfort that you had been desperately craving, a comfort that you’d tried to find with Matt the night before, a comfort that you were finally realising only Billy could provide.

“Everything seems so pointless without you,” he muttered.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you felt the exact same way.

You loved him and nothing was going to change that.

Your heart stuttered, your hand slowly turning, cautiously letting your fingers brush against his before lacing them together and taking hold of his hand. A relieved sound escaped him and you felt his fingers tighten around yours.

“I won't hurt you again,” he promised and, this time, you actually believed him.

He reached for your cheek, thumb gently wiping away your tears.

A minute must have passed and neither of you seemed willing to move or pull away, so Billy cleared the distance and kissed you. It was soft at first, a tender reaffirmation and reignition of all the feelings you’d been trying to snuff out. He pressed closer, the kiss eventually turning more heated until his body was against yours and your broken arm was wrapped around him, cast pressing into his back and pulling him against you.

It was a slow descent into frenzy, but you both seemed to know where it was heading.

When he lifted you off your feet, your legs wrapped around him. You barely paid attention to where he was taking you, too caught up in his kiss.

Under different circumstances you might have taken a moment to realise that you were finally seeing his bedroom; you would have paid more attention to the dark and cold colour scheme and the smattering of photographs on the wall, or maybe you would have noticed the large walk-in closet, filled with his suits. But all you saw was the bed and all you wanted to pay attention to was Billy.

He kept kissing you and, by the time he put you down, your legs felt weak.

You both moved on auto-pilot, both needing and wanting so desperately that undressing each other was just a formality. There was no wonderment in slowly uncovering him because you’d seen him so many times and, this time, you were aching for so much more. You barely even pulled back from the kiss to look at him as his shirt, then pants, fell away.

Once you were both down to your underwear, you reached for him, your hand cupping his cock, feeling how it was already throbbing and hard for you, the tip already peeking out from beneath the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“Hummingbird,” he groaned as deft fingers unhooked your bra and pulled it away from you.

His hands slid up your stomach to your breasts, kneading the soft flesh and tracing his thumbs over your achingly hard nipples. He kissed you again, languidly and slowly. Your hand cupped him and stroked him through his boxers, earning another groan that you happily swallowed down, his hips moving, gently pressing himself into your touch.

A hand gripped your waist as he slowly guided you backwards. When you felt the bed against the back of your legs, you moved, climbing onto it and pulling him with you, 

You fell back, legs instinctively parting for him, allowing him to settle between your thighs. He tested the water by pressing his hips down against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against you.

“Billy,” you gasped, arching your body into his.

“What do you need, hummingbird?” He asked, though you were already certain that he knew the answer.

“You, Billy,” you answered, already breathless, “I need you.”

He reached down between your bodies, cupping you through your panties, biting his lip when he felt just how wet they were. Billy didn’t bother trying to remove them, he settled for tearing them away from your body.

“You’re so wet already,” he said, wasting no time before pushing a finger inside you, causing your back to arch. He pulled it out just as quick before pushing in two and starting to fuck you with them.

“Billy,” you moaned with the intensity of it. 

It had been over six weeks since he’d last touched you, but he hadn’t forgotten a thing. You cried out as his fingers curled inside you, your walls clenching around him, gripping him tight. But it wasn’t his fingers you wanted, and Billy seemed to know that.

“I know,” he muttered as he pressed his lips to your neck. “Soon, hummingbird, I just need to make sure you’re ready for me...”

“Please...” you heard yourself begging, completely losing yourself to him.

“First you’re going to take my fingers, then my tongue, and then you’ll get my cock,” he told you.

Just the thought of it had you shivering.

Your breath caught as a third finger slipped inside you, stretching you and pushing you closer to an orgasm you didn’t have permission to have. At some point, your fingers had tangled in his hair and you were tugging far harder than you should.

“Do you want to come for me?” He whispered into your ear, and all you could do was keen in response. “Then come for me, little hummingbird.”

It was automatic, your body doing exactly as he wanted. You cried out and moaned his name as your walls started to convulse and flutter around his fingers. Fingers that kept moving, dragging out the sensation of ecstacy. You pulled his lips to yours and kissed him, trembling and moaning as his tongue found yours.

But he didn’t linger. Soon he was moving down your body, lips and tongue trailing a clear path from your lips, over your chest and stomach, and down to the apex of your thighs. You shivered in anticipation, seeing his dark eyes staring up at you from between your legs, his fingers parting your folds and -

“Billy,” you cried out as his tongue slid against your trembling flesh.

Your back arched and you tried to lift your hips to press against his mouth, but Billy quickly gripped your thighs and held you in place, determined to stay in control of your pleasure. His tongue moved to your clit, licking with the lightest pressure, barely a ghost of a touch but it was enough to have you breathless.

Finally his attention moved lower, lapping against your slick entrance before pressing the tip inside. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, so possessively, your hips would have shot off the bed but, instead, all you could do was cry out as his tongue continued to lick into you.

At some point, your fingers had found their way to his hair again and you were holding him just as tightly as he was holding you, trying to pull him against him, demanding more. And Billy didn’t disappoint. 

He fucked you with his tongue, not stopping to give you permission to come but, instead, fixing you with a hungry look. 

Your whole body tensed before you came on his tongue, but Billy didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, returning his attention to your clit, pushing you from one orgasm right into the next.

“Please,” you begged, feeling like you were about to shatter into a million tiny pieces, “no more. I can’t take any more.”

And, finally, he relented. Billy crawled back up your body, his chin and lips glistening with your wetness. He kissed you eagerly and your lips parted for him, tasting yourself in his mouth, while your hands forced his boxers down.

You’d already come three times, but just the press of his cock at your wet entrance was enough to make your breath catch. You were already intimately familiar with how big he was but it still made you nervous. Looking down you watched him tease his tip between your folds until it glistened with a mixture of your arousal and his own pre-cum.

Then, his cock surged into you, filling you in one rough thrust, catching you off-guard and causing your over-sensitive pussy to tremble as you struggled to adjust to his size. He pulled back before filling you again and again before coming to an abrupt stop buried deep inside you, leaving you shaking beneath him.

He looked down at you, a mixture of remorse and shame on his face and it took you a moment to realise why; he thought he was being too rough with you.

You reached for him, your hand pressing against his cheek. 

“It’s okay,” you told him softly, “I don’t want you to hold back.”

“But what if I -” he started and you shook your head.

“Are you here with me? Are you in control?” You asked and Billy gave a definite nod. “Then fuck me, Billy.” You told him, feeling your cheeks warm at how brazen it sounded.

You moaned as you felt him start to move again, every hard inch taking what he needed from you, every thrust causing your walls to flutter and clench, gripping him tight. Everything had been building to this moment, months of foreplay finally leading somewhere. It was no wonder he couldn’t hold back. 

“Fuck, hummingbird, you keep gripping my cock like that and I’m not going to last,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “Is that what you want? You want me to come inside you?”

No words left your mouth, just an eager, desperate moan as you stared up at him, lust and desire written all over his handsome face, putting to rest any lingering doubts that you had about his feelings for you.

He kissed you again and again, and you lost yourself to everything he was doing to you. You lost yourself to him. Every time he pulled back, he left you feeling empty and every time he plunged forward left you feeling like all your prayers had been answered.

“Come for me,” he demanded, as if he knew it was building in you before you did.

As commanded, your body started to shudder, coming undone as you moaned his name. His hips slowed, leisurely fucking you through another orgasm, sending more desperate sparks of arousal through your body. It was overwhelming. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You weren’t sure you could go on but you were certain that you couldn’t stop. You wanted more. You wanted everything.

And luckily for you, Billy was just getting started.

“You good?” He asked, his fingers brushing sweat slicked  hair away from your brow.

“Yeah,” you answered breathlessly, too overcome to even force a smile. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

Billy smiled, kissing you softly, still moving slowly, waiting until your walls finally stopped trembling so much.

He gripped your leg, his hand behind your knee, pulling it upwards, opening you to him, while his other hand reached over you to grip the headboard. For a second he paused, looking down at you, waiting for permission. You bit your lip before nodding.

Nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of what followed. He pulled back slowly before plunging his thick cock into you again, deeper than before, making you realise that you hadn’t taken all of him before then. You let out an incomprehensible cry as you felt his tip graze your cervix, the sensation causing you to clench around him.

Looking down between your bodies, you watched as he started to fuck you, his hips setting a relentless pace, his grip on the headboard helping his powerful movements as he pushed you down into the mattress with each thrust. You felt out of control. No, you felt like you were giving control to Billy, letting him have it because you knew that was what he needed.

“Look at me,” he demanded, sounding just as breathless as you were.

Your eyes found his, and that sight alone was almost enough to make you come. His jaw was clenched and his unblinking eyes were watching every flicker of emotion that passed your face. He was looking at you like there was nothing else in the world, like he was committing every second of this to memory and leaving you feeling more wanted than you ever had.

“My hummingbird,” he groaned, “I’ll never let you go.”

You couldn’t answer, not when every rough, rapid-fire thrust of his hips was forcing moan after moan from you. 

Your hands slipped down his back over cold, sweat-slicked skin, right the way down until your fingers were gripping his buttocks, pressing your fingernails into his flesh. That only seemed to spur him on, moving faster, harder, claiming you with every shift of his hips.

“I want to feel you come again,” he told you.

This time you tried to hold back, fighting every urge that told you to give into the pleasure, wanting it to last, wanting Billy to keep fucking you into the mattress. But then you felt his hand on your throat, just beneath your chin, not squeezing, but gripping tight enough to get your full atention.

“I said I want to feel you come,” his voice almost became a growl, his fingers tentatively tightening their grip on your throat.

You couldn’t deny him. You don't want to, not when you were completely at his mercy. This sudden escalation should have scared you, but some part of you trusted him, some part of you was enjoying this and was desperate for more. Finally, there was no doubt in your mind that he wanted this, wanted you.

Your head fell back as the first wave of your orgasm crashed over you, his fingers gripping tighter as he continued to drive his cock into you. You swore and cried out his name, over and over as he forced you through the most intense climax of your life. Your vision went white and Billy kept going until you couldn’t take any more.

He pulled out suddenly, leaving your body desperately clenching and grasping around nothing, feeling unbearably empty. Your whole body shuddered with the intensity of it all, and Billy just watched as you fell apart for him. It seemed to go on and on, your body shaking uncontrollably, your eyes refusing to focus. You felt starved for touch, and even though you were falling apart, you felt needy and desperate for more than just the touch of his fingers on your throat.

Billy didn’t move until the worst of the tremors had subsided, pulling his hand from your throat as he lowered himself over you again. His lips pressed against yours in a chaste and gentle kiss, a tenderness in his eyes, as he slowly sank his cock back into your sensitive pussy. 

This time his movements were gentle, allowing you to really enjoy the feel of him inside you. Your fingers slipped through his hair and even though he was being so gentle now, you still felt tender and overwhelmed. It felt like something had broken inside of you, like he’d managed to fuck your head empty, and now all you could think about was him and how good it felt everytime he filled you with his cock.

His hands framed your face, holding you as he kissed you, and it felt like everything had been leading to this moment. Now that you’d both sated the urgent desires that had been building in you over the last few months, you could finally take your time with each other. 

You lost yourself in the gentle kiss, in the feeling of him loving you and not just fucking you, slowly climbing towards another orgasm and, this time, Billy seemed primed to join you. 

Towards the end, he started to pick up speed, his groans stacking, his face buried against your neck.

“Come, hummingbird,” he grunted.

The moment you let go, you felt him start to pulse inside you, the sensation causing you to shiver. He gave a couple more thrusts before finally stilling deep inside you, groaning against your neck as his orgasm gripped him.

When you’d pictured sex with Billy, this was not how it had played out, this was not how you saw it ending. You felt boneless, completely overwhelmed and exhausted. For a few moments you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. And, when he finally pulled out, you felt the telltale trickle of cum between your thighs.

For the next couple of hours he held you. Neither of you spoke, both having said so much already. You drifted in and out of sleep, always waking to find him holding you securely, his cold body pressed to your back. 

You were half-asleep when you felt his fingers between your legs, parting your folds and guiding his cock into you. Your back arched against his chest as he started to fuck you from behind, letting out a soft moan as he teased your clit. His free hand gripped your chin, turning your head so he could kiss you, slipping his tongue between your lips before you could think to say anything.

His movements started off slow and sensual, letting you enjoy the sensations of him moving inside you and the way your body stretched to accommodate him. You still felt tender from earlier but any discomfort was quickly forgotten.

“Fuck, hummingbird,” he muttered against your lips, “your tight little pussy takes me so well...”

“Billy,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut, still exhausted but wanting more.

“I’ll never get over the way you grip my cock. It’s like you were made just for me,” he continued in that low, seductive mutter. “Can you feel it?

“Yes,” you whined as your hand awkwardly reached behind you to settle on his hip, wanting to touch him.

It stayed like that for a few long minutes, Billy taking his time with you, smiling at every gasp and moan he managed to pull from you.

Then, without warning, he started to rut into you, his movements becoming desperate and sloppy until you felt him twitch and pulse inside you. You started to shift your hips, clumsily riding him as he spilled inside you. Realising that you hadn’t come, he resumed teasing your clit and groaned in your ear.

“Come for me, hummingbird,” he pleaded and you soon did as you were asked.

“I love you,” you moaned, turning to press your face into the pillow as your body succumbed to the pleasure coursing through it.

All Billy gave was a hum in response. There was no question in your mind that he’d heard those three little words, even as his body shivered behind you, and he lost himself in his own pleasure. After everything, you didn’t expect to hear it back, you didn’t expect him to confess more than he already had. You just wanted him to know.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, too exhausted to move or lift your head again, your eyes closing. Billy pulled you tight against him and held you there until you fell asleep again.

The next time you woke, it was to Billy getting out of bed. You watched him stroll into his walk-in wardrobe and he didn’t notice you were awake until he returned with a suit and shirt.

“I’m really sorry,” he told you softly, “I have to go in to work for a few hours, Frank’ll kill me if I don’t, but you can stay in here and rest and I’ll see you when I get home?” 

There was something in his voice that almost made it feel like he was asking your permission, like he didn’t know how you were going to react. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you wanted to react; you’d just spend the afternoon having the most earth-shattering sex of your life, and now he needed to go to work.

“Okay,” you muttered sleepily, knowing you couldn’t keep him from his job, not after all the time he’d already lost.

You watched as he headed into his bathroom and you listened as he took a quick shower before emerging dressed and ready to go. If you had been so tired you would have appreciated the sight of him in his light grey suit, looking devilishly handsome. Instead you could barely lift your head when he kissed you goodbye.

Around half an hour after he left, you managed to get up and return to your rooms. You took a long shower, exhausted but unable to keep your mind from racing over everything that had happened and what that meant going forward.

Everything he’d said, the way he’d looked at you when you were together; it was too much. It played over and over in your head until it became deafening in the silence of the penthouse. He’d been right about everything. You suddenly understood why he’d tried so hard to keep some distance between you, why he’d never wanted anything beyond the physical. You knew that losing you to illness or old age would kill him.

And you loved him far too much to put him through that.

You were left with only one option; hurt him now to save him from more pain later.

(Or maybe it wasn’t that at all, maybe you were just scared that he was going to hurt you again. As much as you hated yourself for your little admission of love during sex, it still caused your stomach to knot thinking about how he hadn’t said it back. What if he never said it?)

It wasn’t long before you found yourself by the intercom again, pressing the button, waiting for a response and, when you finally heard Lissa’s voice...

“I need my things, I want to leave...”

End Note : 😅😅😅😅 like I said last week 'trust me, I have a plan'. At least they actually got to fuck this time 😅 Also, just as a potential warning, I'm not 100% sure if next weeks chapter will be on time; I'm away for a couple of days and my birthday is next weekend. I have already started chapter 16 though so I will try to get it posted at the normal time. If I can't get it done, I'll post something to let people know and probably try to post two chapters the week after.

Also, I now have an AO3 account (it's hungermakesmonsters) I'm planning on posting things there as well as here but things will probably always end up on tumblr first, so don't feel like you have to follow me there or anything. As always, thanks for all your support and the likes/screaming in the comments/reblogs! Have a great weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt.

Tag List : @vaguekayla @thdcre @rensolodriver @house-husband-of-castlemurdock

@snowkestrel @danzer8705 @noortsshift @aoi-targaryen @lincerad

@vxnity713 @readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure @dreadfulxives18 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @glamourbabe17

@sweetserendipity65 @damagelove @strangerfromketterdam @a-starrynightwith-u @readingabouthim

@countryday @weepingwitchofthewest @broadwaybabe18 @bunnygirlwriter876 @oliviaewl

@rosey1981 @benbarnesprettygurl @rachlovesactors @robertthehoover @ladyblacky

@goldenbeskar @mydarlingnana @strwbrrynd @cheshirecat484 @jvanilly

@ashy-kit @jazzclubprincess

[bruisedboys]

hello!!! i saw that you write for bradley and i’m OVER THE MOON RN. could i possibly request a hurt/comfort fic with a shy!plus size! reader combo? maybe a first date scenario where bradley is super late to said date and reader thinks he stood her up or asked her out as a joke so she goes home super embarrassed like “why did i think i could be w him in the first place??” bradley is devastated because he’s liked this girl for so long and he just blew it but he’s able to get her back in the end 🤩 please and thank you!!

hello angel!! thank u so so much for the sweet request, I hope it’s okay! mwah

bradley bradshaw x shy!fem!plus-size!reader cw for body insecurities

You stare at yourself in the mirror, miserable. You haven’t cried yet, but the way your stomach looks in this top might be your breaking point. You’d actually felt pretty, earlier in the evening, all dolled up in your new clothes. But then you’d waited an agonising 45 minutes at the restaurant for Bradley to show up, only to realise he wasn’t coming and you’d made a complete fool of yourself. Now you just feel ugly and so, so embarrassed.

Why would he even want me? You think, glaring at your body in the mirror. You lift your top and squeeze a handful of your soft stomach cruelly, half wishing you could rip it clean off. He probably asked you as a joke, you suppose. And you were stupid enough to buy into it.

A single, hot tear rolls down the slope of your cheek.

You’re wiping at it angrily when there’s a loud, sharp knock on your door. You flinch. It’s enough to scare you out of your miserable state, at least. You freeze, thinking maybe if you ignore it, whoever it is will leave you alone.

“Y/N?”

Bradley? You recognise his voice immediately and your heart climbs to your throat. What is he doing here? Did he not just stand you up? Is he here to antagonise you further? You creep out into the entryway, where Bradley’s voice is clearer. He bangs on the door again.

“Y/N, honey,” he’s saying. He sounds stressed and a little desperate. “I know you probably hate me right now, but please would you come to the door? I really need to talk to you.”

You feel as though an invisible force is pulling you towards the door, towards Bradley. You don’t know why on earth you do it, but you lift a hand and open the door.

Bradley stands on your doorstep, in jeans and a nice linen shirt that doesn’t have an ugly Hawaiian print, for once. His aviators hang from the collar. He’s still strikingly handsome even though you’re upset with him.

“Y/N,” he breathes out. He lowers his fist from where he’d been rapping on your poor door. “Hey. Hi.”

You shift on your socked feet and grip the door handle like it’s your lifeline. “Hello.”

Bradley gives you a look akin to devastation. “Listen, honey. I’m so, so sorry about our date. I got caught up at work, and then my car wouldn’t start, so I had to— hey, are you crying?”

Unfortunately, you are. Why now? You think to yourself. Warm, salty tears spill over your lower lashes against your will. You scrub at your cheeks harshly. Bradley frowns at you.

“Hey. Hey, don’t.” He steps forward and takes your wrists in his hands. He encourages your hands from your face and replaces them with his own, thumbs swiping at your hot tears. He’s a hundred times more gentle than you had been.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I feel like such a dick … I’ve had a crush on you for ages and ages and now I’ve made you cry.” He pulls you into a hug and gives a self deprecating sort of laugh, rubbing your back in quick, smooth sweeps. “What kind of loser am I?”

You sniffle. His hug is overwhelmingly warm. You feel a bit dumbfounded, and wonder if you’ve heard him right.

“You—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat and pull back out of his arms. “You have a crush on me?”

Bradley gives you a look of confusion, his hands on your shoulders. “Well, yeah, honey,” he says. His brings his thumb up to swipe at a tear collecting in the corner of your eye. “That’s why I asked you out.”

You blink at him. So … it wasn’t a joke? He didn’t do it to make fun of you? “I— are you serious?”

Bradley frowns at you. His eyebrows pinch in the middle. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Well, that’s the big question, isn’t it? You draw a shaky breath. “I don’t know, I guess because I’m not— I mean, I’m not really like other girls, Brad.”

Bradley continues to look even more confused than before. “So?” He asks, incredulous. “That’s why I like you so much, babe.”

What? This is not how you thought this would go. Why isn’t he getting it?

“But— but I’m big,” you say, feeling a bit sick. You don’t like to call yourself big, you know it doesn’t matter, but it’s the only way to make Bradley understand. “I don’t have a nice body. And. And I’m too quiet. I thought maybe you didn’t turn up because …”

You trail off. Because I’m fat. Because I’m shy. Because you’re lean and handsome and I’m nowhere near to being in your league. All things you’ve been thinking since he didn’t show up to your date. You don’t say them out loud, but they hang in the air between you and Bradley like burning hot stars anyway.

Bradley stares at you hard. You feel the heat of your confession on your neck, your cheeks.

“Honey,” he says, serious and sweet simultaneously. “Sweet girl. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”

You duck your head. The way he’s looking at you is too much. If he keeps this up you’ll be a puddle in seconds.

“It’s not your fault,” you say quietly. It’s not. Really, it’s your own for assuming the worst of him.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bradley says firmly. “I upset you, didn’t I? I’m really sorry.” He slides his hand under your chin. You know you have more pudge there than another girl would. And yet, you find you don’t mind his touch as much as you feared you would. “Would you look at me?”

Shy, you tilt your head up with the help of his gentle hand until you’re meeting his eyes. You’re struck, suddenly, by how close he is.

Bradley smiles. He’s so, so handsome you almost feel sick by it.

“I really like you,” he says, earnest. “So much. I don’t mind that your body is different. Everyone’s body is different, isn’t it? It’s not a bad thing, and I happen to really like how you look. You’re beautiful exactly the way you are.”

You blink rapidly. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. You don’t think you’ve ever been spoken to in such an honest tone, with such lovely words. It sets you aflame from the inside out. You’re melting, a lovesick puddle of a girl.

“I don’t mind that you’re quiet, either,” he says, and somehow he’s just getting lovelier by the second, and you can’t believe you ever thought he had ill intentions when he’s being so achingly kind to you. “I think I talk quite enough for the both of us, don’t you?”

You laugh, breathless. You’re hyper aware of his hand on your face, of his chest where it’s inches from yours. Normally you’d feel self conscious with another person so close to you, your insecurities on display in full. With Bradley, and the way he’s looking at you, soft brown eyes and a kind smile, you feel special. A flower blooms in your chest, rearing towards Bradley like he’s the sun.

“I’m so sorry for ruining our first date,” Bradley says in a low voice. He brings a hand to your waist. You feel his heat through your clothes. He’s touching you like you’re something precious, like porcelain or starlight. “Do you think you could give me another chance?”

Well, when he asks like that, you know you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

[dinozarr]

jockboyfriend!gojo is literally all i can think rn ¹⁸⁺

𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 . . . is everything you ever expected. he’s cocky, he’s conceited, he’s the goddamn quarter back for christs sake; his ego only enlarges by the masses. Tornados of fangirls try and stop him daily, enthralled by his boisterous aroma and just flat out suffocating persona. If it weren’t for you than he would’ve been trampled over more than a hundred times… in a day.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Satoru Gojo not only thinks he’s the shit, but he knows he is. He got a full ride as a freshman in high school, and graduated early just so he could play for the University of his dreams. That fact alone was his token treasure when it came to showing off around the other players; his own and from other schools. He was above all else— the chosen one, if you will. He listened to no one below or above him.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀No one.. except for you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He’d lick the cafeteria floor just for the sole purpose that you told him to, joke or not. Anytime word got around (which was frequent with the obnoxiously loud man) that he wasn’t going to a party, or attending an event, simply because you suggested staying in and lounging around; everyone and their mother was discussing whether or not he was genuinely for real and was actually going to listen.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And he did.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Every.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Single.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Time.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Was it because he knew that listening to you was better than smelling like booze and vomit from random strangers was unanimously 100x better? oh most definitely.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀But, it was also because, he’d always end up beneath you every damn time. No matter what, you both somehow seemed to end up with him whining tremendously while lying beneath you, the flesh of your waist in hand whilst you rode him as if it depended on your life. The skirt to your cheer uniform would ride up the sides of your plump thighs, Satoru’s long and calloused fingers trailing beneath the fleece fabric and delving into the skin of your hips.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀His throbbing dick prodded into your greedy cunt with ease, the juices that leaked from both of you causing an utter mess to be formed on Satoru’s lower abdomen. Each time you curled your hips while lifting yourself from the base of his dick— just to slam right back down and cause nerve rattling moans to ricochet off the bedroom walls. They (walls) may have been thin, but nothing was more ignorant than young adults that were ultimately terrified of a 6’2 cheerleader. Let alone the damn captain.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Your newly filed nails would rake against your stammering mess of a boyfriends abs. His toned abs. The same ones he’d flash to everyone after throwing the winning pass in a game. Those same abs were lathered in both of your climaxes, vague and delicate spanish murmurs tumbling from your incoherent lip movements.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “F-F-Fuck, Y/N, I-I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Oh- fuck!” he slurred out huskily through the moans he tried his utmost hardest to suppress, yet failed miserably due to how diligently you rolled your hips against his.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀When you both released with hard groans of pleasure suffocating the air all around, your upper body fell onto his chest as your combines liquids spilled from your pussy. Your leg twitched as his hand rested along the side of your ass cheek, each of you humming in delight with your eyes barely even open.

NOTEZ : guys i’m a wee bit drunk rn (almost wasted🤓☝️) and erm !!! well i thought of this so like have it ig. idk i’m going to bed goodnight 🚪🧑‍🦯‼️

ᶻ z Z ! © TAKST4Z — all rights reserved. mature discretion. please do not plagiarize or steal any of my works or graphics.

[bunnypeew]

I’m here for you - Lucifer x gn!reader

okay soooo,, today i’m having a bit of anxiety so,, i’m writing this rn to calm myself down since i have no one who can help me at the moment but oh do i yearn for someone

CW: mention of self harm briefly

It was midnight, almost 1am actually and they were sitting at their desk writing. They were alone, Lucifer was busy that night so he slept elsewhere, this usually didn’t bother them, they didn’t mind being alone but when they felt actually lonely is when they started worrying for themself. They had taken their anxiety meds hours ago now but still felt that deep pain in their chest like little needles stabbing their poor little heart, they slowly closed their laptop and got out the chair to go lay down in theirs and Lucifer’s bed trying somehow to soothe themself, hugging a pillow even, something to make them fall asleep but every attempt failed miserably. They got up again went to the window, looked outside at the street lights and the somehow pretty lively Pentagram city far away from the Hotel, they wondered what Lucifer was doing, even thinking of calling him but they knew he was most probably asleep at this hour. Their anxiety was starting to grow by the second, they moved from the window and went to sit on their bed, their hands were aching to pick up the phone and call him but their body refused to move even an inch. They started shaking and crying all of a sudden, rocking back and forth, they were thinking about Lucifer, about how could a royal love a stupid human sinner like them, it was not fair on him after he loved the first human ever, like that is such an honour!

They started picking at their hair, pulling, scratching and hurting themself overall, they couldn’t help it most of the time since it was an impulse of their anxiety, they knew it was wrong but they just couldn’t help it. This went on for a couple of minutes until they opened their eyes to see a sparkly golden portal appear near their bed all of sudden, It was Lucifer. He was planning to surprise them in the morning with breakfast in bed but things weren’t going to plan.

As soon as he completely appeared out the portal, they jumped on him, shaking from how much they were sobbing. This caught Lucifer completely out of guard, hugging them right away, kneeling to the floor to hold them ever so gently.

“my love what happened? why are shaking and crying..,,

they weren’t able to speak, their voice interrupted by hiccups and short breaths, Lucifer understood this and didn’t try to make them speak again instead he starting stroking their back. They were in the crook of his neck, wetting his beautiful suit with their stupid tears, arms pressed to his chest in a soothing position for them

“come on baby, slow deep breaths, with me okay?,,

he starting taking this deep breaths for them to mimic and that they did, slowly but surely they calmed down, tears still rolling from their beautiful big eyes, Lucifer went to wipe them away gently, holding them by their chin so they would look at him, he sighed and smiled

“You're okay, You're alright. I'll never, ever leave your side. I will stay and I will fight. With you,,

he started singing ever so softly, stroking their hair and looking them in the eyes, still wiping away those nasty tears from their soft cheeks. They calmed down fully now, cracking a little smile at him, this made Lucifer smile widely

“there you go! that’s what should always be on your face, my love,,

his sentence made them giggle and hug him again he hugged back

“you ready to tell me what happened?,,

they push back and look away for a second, then turn their head toward him and nod their head. They slowly started explain to him what went through their head in those hours they were alone, this made Lucifer very sad, to think that a soul as beautiful as theirs would think so low about themself. When they saw Lucifer’s expression change, they felt incredibly guilty and were ready to cry once again but he stopped them by kissing them on the lips ever so gently, both hands around their face as to hold them.

“why would you ever think that about yourself hun? I love you for you, who cares if you’re a sinner or a human. You are you, ne that’s all that matters to me okay?,,

they nod frantically them press their lips against his again with a love filled heart. Lucifer picked them up and put them in their bed.

“now sleep my darling, I have something for you in the morning and don’t worry, i’m here for you.,,

WOW EMM I WAS REALLY SAD WHEN I WROTE THIS LAST NIGHT BUT NOW I FEEL BETTER!!!! but i never stop loving Lucifer ofc ofc hope you enjoyed!!

[mikeysonly]

Take Care Of Me - Isagi Yoichi

♡ I’m rly sick rn so I wanted to write abt it idk. with isagi.. ofc… enjoy, pls brush ur teeth after this one it’s so sickly sweet lol.

The soft hum of the heater filled the small room as Y/N lay cocooned under her blankets, her cheeks flushed with fever. Her head throbbed, and even the dim light filtering through the curtains felt like too much. She sighed, her voice hoarse and her throat raw. Being sick was miserable enough, but being alone made it worse.

The sound of a knock at the door startled her. She struggled to sit up, clutching the blankets tighter around her.

“Who…?” she croaked, her voice barely audible.

“It’s me!” came a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Yoichi?” she rasped, disbelief laced in her tone.

The door creaked open, and there he was, her childhood best friend. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, balancing a small tray of soup, tea, and medicine in his hands. His scarf was still wrapped tightly around his neck, and his cheeks were pink, likely from the chilly January air outside.

“My mom made me bring this over,” he said with a sheepish grin, stepping inside. “She said you’re too stubborn to take care of yourself properly.”

Y/N blinked, trying to suppress a laugh that turned into a cough. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

“Figures,” Isagi said, walking over to set the tray down on her bedside table. He crouched beside her bed, his blue eyes scanning her face with concern. “You look awful.”

“Thanks,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“No, I mean…-” He stopped mid-sentence, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “ Ugh, you know what I mean. Are you feeling any better?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “But your mom’s soup smells great.”

“She said it’s guaranteed to make you feel better, so you’d better eat it,” he said with a small smile. Then, his voice dropped slightly, tinged with worry. “Seriously though, Y/N. You need to take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice was far from convincing. She reached for the soup, but Isagi quickly grabbed the bowl and spoon.

“I got it,” he said with annoyance, batting her hand away. “You just sit there and uh…- try not to die or something.”

“Wow, so comforting.”

Isagi carefully blew on a spoonful of soup before offering it to her. She hesitated, her cheeks heating further. Not from the fever this time, but she relented, opening her mouth. The soup was warm and soothing, the perfect remedy for her aching throat.

“See? Not bad, right?” he asked, his face lighting up as she nodded.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, with Isagi feeding her small spoonfuls and chatting about his most recent Blue Lock training. He animatedly described how he’d been working on his spatial awareness and how one of his shots had made even Rin Itoshi do a double take. Watching him talk with such passion almost made her forget how miserable she felt.

“You’re going to be a star one day,” she said softly.

“You think so?” he asked, his cheeks dusting pink. “I mean, that’s the goal, but… hearing it from you makes it feel more real.”

“Of course,” she said. “I’ve always believed in you, Yoichi.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the heater’s hum. His eyes met hers, and she could see the earnest gratitude in them. He cleared his throat, suddenly looking anywhere but at her.

“You, uh… need anything else?” he asked.

“Maybe some tea?” she teased, though her voice was weak.

“Right!” He grabbed the cup, handing it to her carefully. “Here. Don’t spill it.”

She took a sip, smiling softly. “Thanks for coming, Yoichi. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did,” he said, his voice almost defensive. “You’re my best friend.”

Her heart clenched at the way he said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She set the tea down, leaning back into her pillows.

“You’re really sweet, you know that?” she murmured.

His ears turned red. “I..-I’m just… trying to help. Don’t make it weird, okay?”

She chuckled lightly, but it quickly turned into a cough. Isagi leaned closer, his concern returning.

“You sure you’re okay? Should I call your parents or something?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, smiling weakly. “Especially with you here.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to her lips for a split second before darting back to her eyes. “Y/N…”

“Yoichi,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.

Before she could think too much about it, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. It was a fleeting kiss, tender and hesitant, but it sent a warmth through her that had nothing to do with her fever. When she pulled back, she saw the wide eyed look on Isagi’s face, his cheeks a deep crimson.

“Y-You…-” he stammered, his hand flying up to touch his lips. “Do you realize you’re sick? I’m gonna catch whatever weird mucousy thing you got going on!”

She laughed, the sound weak but genuine. “Worth it?”

His face softened, and he let out a small, exasperated sigh. “…maybe.”

[ibeblizzard12]

…….……🐾🦴🖤🎀🖤🦴🐾………….

Haiii I’m Nyx!! I’m an edblr!! She/they(anything workz but they/them is preferred but idc tbh), intp/intj, in high school(my age is one of these: 14, 15, or 16),pro recovery, not pro ana, caffeine addicted virgin, aroace but idm flirting for funz, MINOR!!!, very mentally ell, not much trauma tbh, hello kitty/sanrio obsession, junkorexic, cutecore/cutegore/2020 e kid, minor aspirin addiction, insomniac, biological girl(I identify as one as well), cat person, sh, multiple mental illnesses, luvz video games like dti omori ddlc yanderesimulator sims4, usually stayz up untilz 2-5am, probably anemic, likes 2 drawz, likes 2 smoke and do drugs(usually snorts em), been in mental hospitals before, I’ve tried to kms once or twice lol, needz 24/7 distraction so I don’t think about kms, ed is a copping mechanism for meh, on antidepressants, tried therapy before doesn’t work for for meh tho cuz imz a minor, very few safe foodz, very picky, multiple personalities, brunette, youngest child, can never tell if I’m a victim(like it’s not my fault I’m this way I just have a bunch of mental problems) or the absuser(I deserve to be miserable cuz i manipulate people and I think of them as entertainment I would kill them without a second thought if I could get away with it and I wouldn’t feel guilty for it and I literally can’t feel empathy ect), underweight, hates physical touch, always eepy, hates myself :P

I AM NOT PRO ANA IM AM FUCKING PRO RECOVERY SO DONT FUCKING REPORT MEH THIS IS MY DAMN SAFE PLACE AND MY ONLINE DIARY I AM NOT TRYING TRIGGER ANYONE U ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR UR OWN TRIGGERS JUST LET ME HAVE THIS BLOG I AM VERY MENTALLY UNSTABLE AND THIS BLOG IS A WAY TO DISTRACT ME FROM MY SUI IDEATION MY MOOTS ARE ONE OF THE REASONS I HAVENT KMS YET PLZ JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND JUST BLOCK ME NO REPORTING IS NOT GOING MAKE ME RECOVER THE MORE I GET REPORTED THE MORE DEPRESSED I GET MY ED IS MY COOPING MECHANISM I KNOW ITS NOT A GOOD ONE I AM FULLY AWARE THE DANGERS OF AN ED BUT IM JUST GONNA KMS IF U KEEP REPORTING ME SO YOULL BE THE REASON I FUCKING DIE🖕

DNI-

homophobics/transphobics, misogynists, people who have mdni in their bio, under 13, 27+, creeps, pro ana people(but if ur not gonna comment anything pro ana on my posts then idm), pedifles, people in recovery(but if we’re already mootz then can still interact just not on my blog or just block the tags that ur recovering fromz), non mentally ell blogs, men if their over 21, gen alphas(I don’t count 13/14ys), people w fat or skinny or sh fetishes, people who want report meh or my mootz

(Keep reading if u wannaz know more about meh)

DIAGNOSED W-

anorexia, depression, adhd, anxiety, minor autism, minor ocd, sui ideation, arfid 

NOT DIAGNOSED BUT I MIGHT/PROBABLY HAVE-

bulimia(100% sure I have it(kinda trying to recover fromz it tho), aspd(psychopath), bipolar, DID

RANDOM MENTALLY ILLNESS SHIT ABOUT MEH-

convinced that their are multiple eyes always watching me idm why and I always draw them for some reason I feel that always watching me especially at nightz their in the wallz and in the my bl00d and my tears, since I was 9 would pretend to have an audience(like I was a YouTuber or smt) and I would talk to the audience but eventually the audience became an imaginary person/personality that I talk/think to(probably cuz I’m lonely) when ever I do something I think smt like, “we need to do blah blah blah.” I can’t stop myself from thinking we instead of I and idk if it’s normal, my eds are cooping mechanism except arfid I’ve that since was two after I choked on a certain food I would always(unintentionally) puke if my parents would try to make me eat a food I didn’t like even at the sight or smell of it so know I always think of certain foodz and meat/eggs/seafood especially w the fear that I’m just gonna puke it so I’m naturally VERY picky for the longest time I would literally only eat angle hair pasta w ketchup idc if u think itz gross it was my safe food rn my main safe food is energy drinks but I can’t have that all the timez, I have social anxiety and used to get panic attacks when I was in crowds it’s a bit better now tho, ive tried to kms before(was gonna hang myselfz) but I managed to stopz myself(it was really hard),  I’m actually quite manipulative when I want 2 be lmao, moody teenager, I have to be awake at night and keep myself distracted so thatz that thoughtz(sui stuff the eyes ect) can’t torment me so I try to stay awake until I’m too tired 2 keepz thinking

I’m am pro recovery I am not pro ana plz just leave me alone on this I’m not fat phobic I try not 2 be but keep in mind I don’t have a conscience, I really don’t care if ur fat I just have bad experiences w them cuz when I first lost weight I would constantly get skinny shamed even tho I was a perfectly healthy weight and it really got to me and contributed to meh ed cuz eventually I started seeing it as praise when people would comment on meh losing weight and now I get really anxious and sui if some doesn’t say I’m skinny tho if they say it in a mean way than I’ll get offended I get that it was out of concern and jealousy but it no one had commented on my body I would probably not have an ed rn and I would’ve watched wut I ate but not in an obsessive way. But seriously I really don’t mind if ur fat just don’t be mean to be about it just cuz I’m skinnier than u. 

Things I really likez-

video games, sleeping, watching YouTube and anime, chainsaw man, solo leveling, insatiable, arcane, death note, future diaries(tho the ending sucked), maduca magica pullea smt(I’m not gonna bother trying to write or even remember the whole name💀u get the jist of it if ya know the anime that I’m talking aboutz), I like cute things w a creepy twist(cutegore), I like cutecore and 2020 e kid fashion(I also like other alternative styles but those are the ones I likez most(pretty sure cutecore isn’t alt but wut ever), drawing, creepy eyes that are alwayz watchingz meh, hello kitty/sanrio, those alt spiky collar/bracelet thingyz, plushies, catz, dress to impress, makeup, dressing up, anime hair, knifes, bl00dz, aspirin, melatonin, bupropion, getting high, cigarettez, ultra monsters(my current fav flavor is the sugar free peach one), my room, cutecore rooms, decorating my room, going to da mall!!, waterrrr, Diet Coke, cucumbers, st4rving myselfz dont ask.

[astrok1dz]

❤️ Glad you’re back! ❤️

I can’t remember your request guidelines rn so I’m gonna play it safe. Coddling and complimenting Eddie? 👀

RRRAHHHH THAT WAS QUICK!!!!!!! ALR, YES. Eddie needs to be spoiled and just. so much attention. I am very much willing to give that to him. that being said

cw: Eddie being traumatized (duh), a bit of angst, a dash of relationship issues, dw they fix it, happy ending, fluff

Never Too Much

-----

okay so bc of Eddie's past, we know he most probably has a lot of trouble getting into relationships, let alone romantic ones.

so when he met you, and obsessed over you, of course, he felt so lucky he could even breathe the same air as you

but nothing good ever lasts for him, everything is ripped away from him by this god forsaken city. he tries not to get too attached (and fails miserably) so he's shy for longer than he should be.

he's just trying to be prepared for when you'll leave him.

he's absolutely surprised when you don't

he doesn't say anything, of course, but he's just utterly confused

how? how didn't you leave him? all this city had taught him was how he wasn't good enough, how he was different, and how different people, people like him, don't get anything nice. don't deserve anything nice.

you notice this. you always do. it's not hard to tell when he's overthinking. he'll stop and take deep breaths or immerse himself in puzzles, but you're working on communication

you decide to start coddling Edward. to spoil him a little bit.

it doesn't even have to be something big, he'll be grateful for whatever you give him, although he doesn't quite know how to tell you or thank you properly

Eddie hadn't been your Eddie for the last two weeks or so, consumed with work and his plans to cleanse the city. He hadn't had the energy to be quite romantic or intimate lately, so things had been a little colder than usual. It hurt. Did he not love you?

One day you realized your mistake. Eddie? Your Eddie worshipped you. Sure, he could have his bad moments and want some time to himself, but after all the neglect and abuse he'd lived, he probably wanted to be coddled. He just was too embarrassed to ask you to do it. No wonder things had been like this. It was your turn to take the lead.

Now you knew, and you decided to take matters into your own hands. For the last couple of weeks you had been thinking of little ways to make him feel better, and today would finally be the day when you unleashed them all onto little unsuspecting Edward.

You hear the creak and slam of the door to your apartment. In comes Edward's tumbling silhouette, shuffling around to plop down on the couch next to you. Your sweet boy, all tired from work, all tired from this city. He always was.

"Eddie! Oh honey I missed you so much...", you coo, and his heart melts, because although he knows you adore him, he's used to having his absence not quite matter.

He's silent as he shuffles a little closer to you, and you immediately receive him with open arms and an inviting hug.

"Tough day?", you ask, and he nods. You do as well, and hold his shoulders.

"I got a little surprise for you, c'mon, follow me", you tell him. He looks at you, eyebrows knitted in confusion. You help him get up and slowly peel off his jacket, take his hand, and lead him to your bathroom.

He doesn't even get to see what it is before a sweet aroma invades his nostrils. Your tiny bathroom, adorned with scented candles, bubbles and rose petals floating on your tiny tub (if you could call it that).

What?

He looks at you, confused. Why would you do this? Why you, such an angelic being, the antithesis of this dirty city, do this for him, a broken man?

"I- you didn't-", he starts.

"I didn't have to, I know. But you've been so stressed lately and I wanted to help you relax...", you explain kindly. You start shredding your clothes, ready to enter the tub with him. You extend your hand to him, and he feels as if he's being dragged to the pearly gates of heaven.

"Besides, I've been missing you so much... I wanted you all to myself a lil' bit...", you say, and ignore the sting in your eyes. You really did miss him so so much...

"You can have me all to yourself whenever you want (Y/n)...", he stutters out, feeling guilty.

"Oh...", you let out. There he was, so kind, so sweet to you, so unapologetically yours.

"Well, in that case...", you say, almost seductively, but cover up a little once again when you remember your appearance. You were so busy planning this whole thing for today, you hadn't even shaved, you hadn't taken care of yourself. It felt overwhelming. What if your appearance ruined this whole things for him?

"Shit- I didn't- I forgot to- Sorry-"

He stares at you, but his eyes sparkle and his round face is flushed as if this was the first time he's ever seen you (which you both know is not the case).

"You know I don't care about those things. I want to see you...", he says, taking your hand. He looks at you, eyes full of adoration. His hands make their way to your waist and caress it gently, bringing you closer. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

A few happy tears escape your eyes. There he was, the Eddie you've been missing. You help him undress, hands sliding lovingly over every inch of skin you know he's not fond of. Eddie. Your Eddie, so soft and round and most of all, so gentle.

You both get in the tub, cuddled up together. You don't even need to say a word. You both occasionally ask each other questions regarding doubts or insecurities, and reassure each other. When you're both satisfied with each other's answers you share the silence, snuggled up.

"You're so pretty, Eddie... my baby..."

He shivers, and you keep going.

"I love you, Eddie. You're kind and so so sweet. You deserve this, Eddie"

You notice by the way he shakes that now it's his turn to cry, happy cry, of course.

"My baby, you're so strong... You're safe here, you're okay. I love you Eddie, I'll never leave you". You coo.

He sobs, feeling free to break down in your presence. You kiss his tears away.

"Th-Thank you... you're too good to me... you do too much...", he hiccups.

"Oh, but don't you get it, Eddie? It's never too much", you reply, and for the first time, he begins to believe it.