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dewdropdinosaur · 22 days

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White Gold Glitters Too

ALASTOR x READER SMUT

Summary: Lucifer takes too much of a liking to Alastor's wife and he seeks to claim her and prove his dominance. Fucking her for Lucifer to hear sounds like a good option.

Warnings: NSFW/18+. MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Oral Sex, Reader has a Vagina, Heavy Sex, C*m, Implied P in V Sex, Jealous Fucking, Mention of Restraints, Tentacles

I have never written smut before...so I am sorry.

REQUESTS OPEN

Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon from Hazbin Hotel, was known for his charismatic yet enigmatic presence. He ruled over his domain with a devilish grin and a penchant for blood. But beneath his charming facade lay a heart that beat fiercely for one person: his beloved wife, Y/N.

Y/N was the epitome of grace and beauty, with a kindness that melted even the most hardened of souls. She had captured Alastor's heart as soon as they had entered through the doors of the hotel, and he would do anything to keep her by his side. Having been newly wed, Alastor’s possessive nature seemed to rear its head often when it came to his bride.

However, trouble brewed when Lucifer, the fallen angel and hellish king himself, began to take an seeming interest in Y/N. His smooth words and suave demeanor drew her attention, much to Alastor's dismay. Alastor’s confidence was shaken when Lucifer Morningstar began to show a keen interest in Y/N. Despite her loyalty to Alastor, Lucifer's suave demeanor and irresistible charisma stirred a jealousy deep within Alastor's demonic heart.

It has begun innocently enough, with Lucifer's smooth compliments and flirtatious gestures towards Y/N whenever they crossed paths. Then it turned to a hand atop hers or brushing hair out of her face while she worked on fixing up the hotel. At first, Alastor attempted to suppress his jealousy, masking his feelings with his trademark grin and witty remarks. But as Lucifer's advances towards Y/N became more pronounced, Alastor's facade began to crack.

One fateful evening, as the flames of Hell danced in the distance, Alastor found himself unable to contain his simmering jealousy any longer. He watched from a distance as Lucifer flirted shamelessly with Y/N, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

His once cheerful demeanor turned dark as he became increasingly passive-aggressive, making evil eyes at the short king(yes my dears, narrators can make a joke occasionally.) But still, Lucifer persisted in his advances, seemingly unfazed by Alastor's silent warnings. Y/N, momentarily stepping away at Charlie’s call for some assistance, left the two men alone in the lobby.

“Well, well, if it isn't the charming Lucifer. Quite the show you're putting on tonight”

Lucifer smirked, “Ah, Alastor, always a pleasure to see you. And might I say, your wife looks positively radiant this evening. You picked a good one.”

Alastor forced a smile, a natural habit of his that was wearing on him. “Why, thank you, Lucifer. She does tend to have that effect, doesn't she? Though I must say, your interest in her appearance is unexpected.”

“Oh, Alastor, there's no harm in appreciating beauty when it's right in front of you. And your wife is truly a sight to behold.” Lucifer leaned closer, using his elbow to nudge Alastor in the ribs playfully; unaware of the brewing violence in the red demon before him. Or maybe he did know and elected to ignore it. Lucifer did get terribly bored.

Alastor spoke firmly through clenched teeth “Indeed, she is. But I must warn you, Lucifer, my patience wears thin when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Just engaging in some harmless conversation. Does that bother you?

“Of course, how silly of me to assume otherwise.” Both men quipped back and forth so sarcastically it could've been considered the eight deadly sin.

Returning from aiding the princess, Y/N resumed her place by Alastor’s side and back into the conversation. Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Alastor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder and looked towards Y/N with a forced smile plastered on his face. "Darling, would you care for a stroll?" he offered, his voice dripping with false sweetness.

Y/N, oblivious to the turmoil raging within her husband, nodded with a smile and waved goodbye to Lucifer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hell, Alastor's mind seethed with anger and resentment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Alastor halted abruptly and turned to face Y/N. "Tell me, my dear, what is it about Lucifer that captivates you so?" he demanded, his words laced with bitterness.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change in Alastor's demeanor. "Alastor, what are you talking about? Lucifer is just being friendly," she protested, confusion etched on her face.

"Friendly? Yes, that's one way to put it. Though, his friendliness seems rather... focused, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N glanced at Alastor, sensing the tension in his voice. She attempted to defuse the situation with a reassuring smile.

Y/N: "Alastor, there's no need to worry. You know where my heart lies."

Alastor's smile tightened, his grip on Y/N's hand becoming just a tad too firm.

Alastor: "Of course, my dear. I'm well aware. But it's amusing, isn't it? How Lucifer seems to find you so... intriguing."

Y/N shot Alastor a puzzled look, sensing the underlying resentment in his words.

"Alastor, you're being awfully aggressive. Is something bothering you?"

Alastor's grin widened, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Lucifer.

Alastor: "Bothering me? Not at all, my dear. Just finding it fascinating how Lucifer can't seem to keep his eyes off you. Quite the dilemma, wouldn't you agree?

Alastor refused to be swayed by her words. With a fierce determination, he pulled Y/N flush to his chest and pushed her back against the wall, his grip possessive and demanding. Peering down into her eyes, his own glowed with a dark green hue.

"I'll show you who the better man is, my dear," he growled, his crimson eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture hers. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought her hands up to find themselves tangled in Alastor’s red locks.

Trailing his hand up to her waist, Alastor gave it a tight squeeze that made his wife squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity. Deciding she had enough teasing, Y/N grabbed hold of Alastor’s cane and used its shadows to transport them to their shared bedroom. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king sized bed and laid down on the red silken sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, Y/N wasted no time in relocking her lips back to her husband's.

Nimble fingers traced up her waist, tugging softly on the waistband of her shorts before suddenly ripping them off of her body. Exposed to the cool air, Y/N let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Alastor traced a knuckle up her clothed core.

“Darling, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are drenching my fingers through these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across her pantie-clad slit, Alastor mumbled the words into the base of her neck.

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Al.”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged her request by removing the offending garment from her body. Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering white gold slick that painted her hole.

“Gorgeous darling, glittering gorgeous.” Diving in, his tongue lapped up all the juices that spilled from her needy cunt. Sucking softly here and there while delving as deep as his tongue would allow(he would not admit to using magic to make it longer), Y/N let out wanton moans and lewd hisses of pleasure. Gripping the sheets beneath her as her eyes remained shut in ecstasy. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, Alastor inserted his finger into her while continuing to feast. He could see her holding back some of her noises, desperate to control her lust.

"Darling, do not hide from me."

"But normally you don't want people to hear--"

"That does not apply today. Let all of Hell and that filthy king know you are mine."

Stretching her open, he added another finger; scissoring her wide. Y/n’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Alastor placed it on her hip and held her in place.

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Y/N gulped. Being restrained by Alastor’s slick tentacles, forcing her legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued her interest. Perhaps for another time.

The thoughts and stimulation from Alastor’s mouth and his fingers nearly had her cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push her over the edge. Smirking, Alastor brought a third finger into her hole, its walls squeezing onto him for dear life. Using his thumb to rub against her clit, the stimulation was bearing nearly too much.

“Go on Y/N. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good. That even the King of Hell couldn’t make you cum just from his fingers.”

That’s what did it, Y/N felt the coil in her stomach snap as she cried Alastor’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard her by now. Just as Alastor wanted. Cum now coated his fingers and the bedsheets below as her high overtook her senses and she saw stars.

Drawing his fingers slowly out of her and bringing them to his lips, Alastor sucked on the white gold juices. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged her in on the bed and she could feel his growing bulge against her thighs, Alastor whispered darkly.

“Now dear, feel like letting Lucifer know how good round two is about to feel?”

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 3 months

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#its me #text #quotes #quote #random #me #depressed #depression and anxiety #anxiety #depression #h o r n y

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lightseoul · 1 year

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you and me? really?

synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)

cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff

word count. 1.7k words

Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.

“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.

“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”

You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”

Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”

“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”

She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”

You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.

You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”

“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.

“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.

“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”

You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.

“Right on.”

Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.

And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.

You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.

He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.

Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)

“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”

Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”

Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.

His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?

Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.

“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”

“Ouch..?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”

You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”

What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.

“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.

You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.

“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”

You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.

“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.

You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..

“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.

Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”

“Has he texted you yet?!”

You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”

“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”

“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”

“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”

You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.

You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”

“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”

“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”

“Sure, go on.”

You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”

“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”

“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”

You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.

“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”

You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”

Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, wait!”

You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”

“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”

You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.

Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.

But this? This is an emergency.

You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.

Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.

Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.

You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.

Hey, it's Bakugou.

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #i haven't written in MONTHS oh my lord #starting to get out of my depressive episode and this is a good sign LMAO #i hope you guys like it!!!#i enjoyed writing this #very self-indulgent lmao

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rinhaler · 6 months

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You Deserve Roses and You Know This

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors. ✧. ┊ ex!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: Smut & Angst Notes: reposting from my old account! Warnings: 18+, dubcon, vaginal sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, dacryphilia, pregnancy, abortion ideation, miscarriage, depression, adultery, breeding, creampie ♡, smoking mention. Words: 4.1k

“Is it true? Did talking to Megumi make you cry today?” Toji asks you, peeling down your bra strap before sensually decorating your exposed shoulder in delicate kisses.

He didn’t notice, but as soon as the question left his tongue you had instinctively become dead behind the eyes. It was true. You’re an adult, and yet you were brought to tears by his seven-year-old son. It wasn’t that he said anything callous, quite the opposite, really. Earlier that day, Megumi had been sitting playing in your front room. You were babysitting, as you often did, while Toji and his wife were working. Your eyes hold shut as you remember his wife; his beautiful and kind wife while he continues littering your skin in adoration. You shouldn’t be doing this, but you can’t stop now.

Green sparkling eyes looked up from innocent children’s toys to pose you a question – “Why do you hate me?” he asked, genuinely. It was like a knife through your chest. You didn’t hate him. You could never hate him, Toji being partly responsible for his existence is enough reason to adore him with everything you have.

You just wish he was yours.

Toji is patient when he gets his time with you. It’s rare, after all, and he wants to make the most of it. Two large palms settle on your breasts, the straps are down but your bra is still firmly in place. He massages your flesh over the material, lips traversing the expanse of your body until he reaches your pulse point. He licks, slowly, hot eager breath contrasting your own temperature and making you shudder. This, he notices, pulling your back even closer into his chest. His left hand slowly yet forcefully moves up and down your adjacent arm, desperate to dispel the goosebumps that have formed on your skin. He suckles and licks on your ear lobe before nibbling it softly between his teeth. His breathing changes, his mouth level with your ear, he’s going to speak.

“Baby… what were you talking about?” he sighs, an even more chill inducing breath warms the shell of your ear. He pecks against it, the sound of tactile lips puckering slithers directly through your ear canal. You moan, unintentionally, and back further into your temporary lover. He holds your breasts once more; stabilising you, if only a little, as you begin to grind your core against his crotch.

“I- I can’t, Toji—”

Your attention is fixated on him as his hand encases half of your face and turns you to face him. But you both find yourselves closing your eyes as he places a kiss against your lips. It’s slow, yet heated, and you feel him smile into you when he hears you moan into his mouth pathetically. You’re well and truly at his mercy, though you aren’t embarrassed. How else should one act and behave around the love of their life?

“You can and you will,” he explains, biting your lip as he parts from the kiss. A singular string of saliva keeps you connected for a second before snapping. “you can’t have secrets with my son darlin’, you just can’t. So tell me, what were you talkin’ to him about?”

You gulp, nerves overcoming you like never before. Your eyes flutter shut yet again as he diverts his attention from your eyes to your body. The skin behind your ear is the next subject of his eroticism. And yet, he has the gall to chastise you for enjoying it. With one more repetition of tell me you realise you can’t stall anymore. Out of options. And you can’t lie.

“R-Rocco, ah—!”

“How does Megumi know about Rocco?”

“I- I told… him…”

He hikes your leg up so that you’re sitting on his lap like a little girl. The kissing has stopped and the touches have halted. Toji isn’t patient except with you. He’s never looked as furious as he does now, with you. Brows scrunched and the glimmer in his eye you love so much has ceased to exist. His scar looks as raw as it did the day he got it. A non-existent armour made you believe he wouldn’t mind you talking to his son about such a sensitive subject matter, but apparently it is not to be discussed under any terms.

“Don’t you ever talk to my son about Rocco again. D’ya hear me? Never.” he forbids, his eyes seem to soften ever so slightly when he spots that you can’t prevent the way your lip begins to wobble. “If you really wanna talk about Rocco, talk to me. Yeah? No one else, just me.”

“Y-You don’t let me—” you start, your thought isn’t completed. Thoughts are rattled from your mind as he begins manoeuvring you so that your back is flat against the mattress, jade green eyes boring into your very soul as he hovers above you. His arms dip behind your back, finally unhooking your bra and baring your chest to him.

Beautiful, he thinks.

“I’m letting you now.” he explains, his head resting on your chest, looking up with intent behind his salacious stare. He latches onto one of your protruding nipples, taking it between his cracked lips. He sucks and pecks, and it’s almost lazy, but you know it’s with purpose. It’s driving you wild, you can’t help but wriggle helplessly beneath him, desperate to gain some relief on your eager heat.

He pins one of your legs down, stopping you from continuing your movements. It’s torture, you think, he’s expecting you to broach such a heavy subject matter while you’re so desperate for his touch.

“C’mon sweetheart… talk about Rocco,” he commands. You can’t. Tears stream down your face as you do your best to experience Toji whilst thinking back to the past. Your mind spins and you feel as if you can’t breathe. He releases your nipple with an accentuated pop as he smirks up at you. “I remember how scared you were to tell me… when you realised—”

“Fuck, Toji.” you croon, a mischievous finger slithered down your abdomen down the length of your clothed slit. Feather light touches against your clit and your entrance forced your hips to buck upwards carelessly. He snickered, repeating the action again and again. “I- I remember.” you stutter.

You’d only been dating for thirteen weeks. He was yours before his wife entered the fray, before you had to battle for his time and attention. Nerves got the better of you, the thought of admitting to yourself what you already knew made you nauseous beyond any description.

Your period was late.

It was something you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone inform Toji of. It had been so little time since you began dating. You thought he’d leave you, run away and never look back. So, there was only one thing for it. An abortion. You couldn’t keep the baby if you wanted to keep him. It was your only option. You were stressed, manic, exhausted. But at least you’d have Toji – that was all you cared about.

“You were so scared to tell me, weren’t ya?” he asks, hooking a finger beneath your panties before settling it in your inner thigh crease. He plunges a finger inside of you, chuckling when more obscenities fly from your mouth as your head falls backwards into the plush pillows. One of your hand grips the sheets below, whilst your other almost tears his hair from the roots. So little attention, and yet such a big reaction from you. “Thought so little of me, baby, ‘m sorry.” he finishes, adding a second finger to your scorching heat. It's almost as if the air in your lungs has frozen, weighing you down. It’s preventing you from speaking. From breathing. Even thinking.

It was confirmed when you finally took the plunge and decided to do a pregnancy test. Big, black, bold text told you the answer and where your future was heading. Motherhood, for certain. But you knew you had to take care of it before Toji became suspicious. It was something you didn’t even want him to know you were going through. Everything with him was perfect, it wasn’t something you wanted to ruin over something you believed could be easily taken care of.

So… why were you crying every day?

That’s what he asked you. You hadn’t been yourself, and that is what gave you away. Jokes he told that you found funny didn’t seem so funny anymore. The way he traced his fingers up and down your arms made you defensive, and paranoid. You didn’t want him to touch you in case he somehow sensed it in his fingertips. If he felt you he might just know that you’re carrying his child and he’ll skip out on you.

It all came to a head one day after you finished throwing up. You couldn’t keep your cries silent. Your body was betraying you, you felt hurt in ways you never had before and it was becoming impossible to keep it all to yourself. You didn’t dare tell a soul for fear of Toji finding out through the grapevine. But enough was enough, he thought.

“You need to tell me what’s going on with you.” he told you, but you shook your head.

“I can’t Toji, please. Trust me, I can’t.” you explained, “It’s fine… I will ruin everything if I tell you so… so I’m… I’m taking care of it—”

“Cut that shit out right now. This has been going on a fuckin’ while and I can’t stand to see you like this,” he responded, moving his head as you moved yours. You were trying to avoid his piercing glare, but he wouldn’t let you. He couldn’t. He’d never of forgiven himself if you carried on like that, unable to share your woes, and did something you might regret. “Trust me, I’m beggin’ you to trust me, baby.”

He forced you to sit down, and face him. He wiped away your tears with his thumbs and kept all of his attention focused on you as he watched you calm yourself down. Tear filled breaths that clogged your lungs fizzled into shaky exhales the longer you held eye contact with Toji. He wasn’t going anywhere, for now. If you explain you can tell him your plans. Maybe he’d support you if he knew you planned on freeing you both of the burden of parenthood, you hoped.

“I… I’m, uh—”

“Yeah? C’mon sweetheart, doin’ so good f’me just use your words.” he spoke, doing his best to tempt the truth out of you. With one final swallow of terror and closing your eyes for a moment to think, you finally found the courage to confess.

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out quickly. “but it’s okay I’m gonna get rid of it. Okay?” you fumbled out words quicker than you could think. You just wanted him to know that there was no way you’d be keeping the baby. He was what you needed, not a kid. “Please, I promise I’m going to get rid of it, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. D-Don’t leave me, p-please. You are more important to me than a baby, I just want you. I—”

Your rambling was stifled as Toji pressed a finger to your lips. He kissed you on your forehead, a warm smile filled his features. Instantly, you were relived. It meant that your idea of an abortion was enough to convince him to stand by you. There was no reason to worry yourself sick like that, he was going to support you through it all.

“You don’t have to get rid of our baby,” he smiled.

“W-What?”

“In fact, I don’t want you to do that at all.” he warmly spoke, pulling your body into his and forcing his head between the valley of your breasts. It wasn’t sexual, it was just a comfort to him to hear your heartbeat. “Maybe… we could start our own little family, huh?”

Tears roll down your eyes as you reminisce on it all whilst Toji adds his flat tongue to the equation of his fingers in your cunt. It’s all so romantic and wonderful and intense. You don’t think you’ve ever been happier than you were in that moment. The moment you knew he really would stand by you through anything at all. And despite your assumption, he was excited to become a father. He was excited to have a baby with you.

“I love you, Toji.” you speak, softly, unsure if it was even loud enough for him to hear. Oh, but he did. He doesn’t want to stop lapping at your swollen clit, knowing it’s exactly where you need the most attention right now. But a particularly harsh suckle and pop of the bead is a silent acknowledgement, he promises he heard you. “Gonna… gonna cum. T-Toji—”

“No no, baby, not yet,” he instructs. He removes his fingers from your hole, delicately rubbing them over your sensitive bundle of nerves instead. It’s slow and tormenting, but he doesn’t want you to cum like this. “I was so happy when we found out we were havin’ a little boy, y’know? So damn happy princess.”

You remember it well. Your emotions were running high and you had the ability to blame your hormones when you discovered the gender of your unborn child. But you couldn’t quite believe it when you looked over to see Toji’s eyes, eyes that are normally so strict and stern, glossy with tears on his lash line. He couldn’t help it, he claimed.

“Look what we made.” he pointed, the scan revealing perfectly what a handsome little boy you’d made together.

And later that day, he took you shopping. Money was no object. That is what you both decided. Neither of you could believe how much stuff you ended up buying. Paints for the nursery. A crib. Other necessary pieces of furniture. Toys. Clothes. Everything you thought you needed, you bought. You were both first time parents and completely clueless. So, if a shop assistant recommended it, you bought it.

You spent so much time together painting the walls of your baby’s new room. Toji was very irritable when you kept asking what to do and how to help. The paint wasn't going on as nicely as he hoped and his temper flared, it was extremely evident in his face. What do you do when you see an angry bear? Poke it with a stick. Or in this case, flick paint from the end of your brush at him. When he noticed what you had done and he turned to face you, you swear you could read murder on his mind. But when you began to laugh, he couldn’t help the laugh that snuck out of him.

There was more paint on the two of you than on the walls by the end of it.

“That was the day we decided to call him Rocco…” Toji mused.

He began to kiss up towards your naval and back to your neck. Your fingers laced through his hair as you begged for him to deliver the same salvation he was offering your body to your lips as well. He complied, slow patience had dwindled as your tongues found each other. It was wet, heated, sloppy. You felt yourself drooling out of the corners of your mouth, Toji Fushiguro is just so intoxicating. A drug you can’t quit though you know you should.

He’s all you have.

He doesn’t break the kiss from you, though his hand eventually meets his heavy, wanting cock. He guides it to your desperate entrance, lining it up perfectly before slotting himself inside. His hips roll, bullying his cock into you inch by agonising inch until your lip begins to quiver. He hushes you, though.

You both know you want it.

“I’m s-so – fuck – I’m so sorry, baby. I am so—”

“P-Please, pleaaaase stop.” you beg. He doesn’t. You are the one who wanted to talk about it. So desperate to talk about it that you went to a seven-year-old boy to discuss it. His son. “N-No more, I can’t—”

“It was the worst day of my life, too, I promise you that darlin’.” he mumbles in your ear. The thrum of his words rushes straight to your cunt, and you clench so hard around his cock you think he might have to stay there forever.

You don’t think you’ve ever been as embarrassed as you were when you came home from the hospital. Your pristine white maxi dress, stained in bright red blood by your crotch. The atmosphere in your house was foul. Two solemn adults who had lost everything in a few menial hours. Hollowness filled you, not a single emotion ran through you until you heard Toji a few rooms away. You sat on the sofa, turned on the TV and pretended it wasn’t happening. But you could hear Toji loud and clear.

He was in the nursery.

That was the first and only time you’ve ever heard him cry. A loud thud vibrated through you and you knew he had collapsed to the ground. Melancholy overtook him as his new reality was setting in. Your little boy was no more. No fault of your own, apparently, everyone made sure to repeat that enough times for it to really take root in the depths of your brain.

It didn’t help at all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to check on Toji. That would mean going into Rocco’s room and facing the truth yourself. So, you waited. You waited hours for him to finally come out. He came to see you, resting on the balls of his feet in front of the sofa where you sat. Fresh tears replaced old ones as he noticed the drying blood on your dress.

“H-How about a bath, huh?” he suggested.

You don’t remember saying yes, or nodding. But somehow, you found yourself naked and submerged in a bubble bath. It was like you had left your own body as he did his best to clean you. You could hear him sniffling. He was desperate to talk about it with you, all he wanted was for you to help each other cope. But you couldn’t. So, he did his best to lock it away too.

It was as if you had returned to yourself when Toji took a break from washing your hair to wipe more tears from his eyes. A soft mumbling of ‘Oh, Godddddd…’ trailed from his lips as he tried to pull himself together. And finally, your lip began to jut out helplessly. Your eyes scrunched, and the tears began to flow. You were staring at your bloody dress, and listening to him try and hold it together. It was all equating to too much.

It was real, now.

“Our… baby—” you cut yourself off with a wail, Toji pulled you into his hold and sobbed into your sodden locks.

He hissed with each thrust inside of your gummy walls. A perfect home for him in the form of your bodies fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. He doesn’t feel like this with his wife, only you. He couldn’t stay away, he’d never be able to do that.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you.

“’m not good enough… I’ve never been—”

“Stop it, baby. You are enough, I promise.” he tells you through gritted teeth. It’s getting harder and harder to have a normal conversation while he is fucking you so intimately. Every ounce of his love poured into every devastating thrust.

He loves you.

“Wasn’t good enough for you, or our- our baby.”

“Stop it darlin’. Please stop. I- I need—”

“I can’t live like this-!” you cry out. His hand covers your mouth entirely as his mind tries to process what he needs to say to you. Christ. What does he need to say to you? Everything and nothing all at once. He thinks he should start with I love you. But is he prepared to open that can of worms?

“I need… you. I’m gonna leave her, yeah? My wife. Let’s… try again. Me and you, hah? I won’t pull out this time, let me… let me—”

“Tojiiiii—”

“You’re good enough, baby, more than good enough. I’ll cum inside and we can try again. I need to, I need to.”

Your tears stream endlessly but silently. Is this really what you want? Do you want him to break up his family to satiate your unfulfilled desires? It doesn’t matter. You find yourself nodding anyway. Perhaps it will dull the ache inside of you. It could be the plaster to cover to puncture wound in your aching heart; it’s been bleeding since that day.

Toes begin to curl as he continuously batters the spongy centre that spells your eventual undoing with his fat cock head. He isn’t doing much better. Nobody and nothing will compare to the rush and the high he feels as when your precious cunt swallows him again and again.

“Gonna- cum, with me. Please, baby. Cum with me now.” Toji pants.

Your lips are on his again, both of you focusing on your impending climaxes. The way you break away to moan momentarily before smothering each other in kisses yet again is such a lewd, romantic, high that you can’t get enough of. He pounds you perfectly and it’s an arrangement neither of you have been able to let go of after all of these years.

“Oh God, I’m cumming- cumming baby…” he alerts you. You’re practically choking on your own orgasm as it swims through you. Nails dig into his back as you try and hold onto the feeling for as long as you can. He fills you with his warmth, heaving like a desperate animal while he breeds you to the brim.

What have you done?

Time wasn’t a healer for either of you. The days got harder and harder and you couldn’t even stomach looking at him. Each time you looked at him, you saw what could have been. What should have been. The father of your son. The man who was going to teach him everything he knew and help your little boy cause all kinds of mischief for you.

The man you thought could keep you both safe.

That’s how he found himself married to a woman he would never love as much as he loved you. There was a drift, it was aggressive and painful, yet necessary. But you found yourself brought back together a few years after Megumi was born. You were practically an aunt to his son. A second mother, even. A sordid little secret.

You don’t hate Megumi, you just wish he was yours.

The pair of you got changed after he had his post fuck cigarette, knowing you couldn’t risk dallying for fear of being caught. You didn’t doubt for a minute that if you called him in a few weeks and told him you were carrying his child, he’d kidnap Megumi and run away with you to start your new family life together. And you would love that, you’d love him. You’d love it all.

But, it isn’t right. Is it?

He grabs his car keys, readying himself to drive you home to be alone with your dark thoughts. Before you step outside, though, something plagues your mind. A question that you simply must know the answer to. He looks scared, honestly. The way you’re facing him and eyeing him up as the same words twist and circle through your mind. A heavy hand rests on your waist, the other on your cheek. He’s scared, it’s obvious, but he’s still encouraging you to talk.

“Do you ever think about Rocco?” you ask him, genuinely curious. Toji has never felt the need to bring him up, this is the first you’ve discussed him in years. It kills you to think that Toji has managed to shut out thoughts of his unborn son while you are plagued with them each and every waking moment of your pointless life.

And there it is. That warm, kind smile, that is the Toji you know and love.

“All of the time.”

Four simple words have you breaking down like you did that day in the bathtub. Your head is pulled into his chest as he holds you close and tightly, allowing you to bawl every emotion onto him. You can’t control yourself and you don’t want to stop. It’s fine, he thinks. It’s clear that you need it. At least you know something today that you didn’t know yesterday. One piece of information that might take some of the burden off your own shoulders.

At least you know you aren’t alone.

this is a repost from my old account

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razzle-n-dazzle · 2 months

Note

hello, friend!! i saw your adam hcs and i loveddd themmm!! i was hoping to request smth if that’s okay? could we get lucifer with a reader who also struggles with depression like he does (it’s mentioned in episode five if you didn’t know!!) and maybe reader had a practically rough week and gets home from work and just breaks down in tears, and luci find a way to cheer them up? either fem! or gn! reader if that’s chill, tysm for taking your time to consider this even if you don’t get to it!!

— 🪽anon

ᯓ★ "Give Your Corpse Some Smile Lines." Lucifer / Reader | Oneshot TW! Read at your own risk and comfortability! | talks about depression, suicidal topics/actions, overdosing topics/actions, reader breaking down, hurt to comfort, self destruction, abuse

ᯓ There are days and weeks, sometimes months and years, that prolonged like time, made it appear like it no longer moved and served a purpose. Like time was nothing but a feign idea that was made to torture everyone and anyone who dared think about it, who dared to calculate how it traveled and how long it took to pass a minute. And some days it made people want to break, and some day it made people want to kill other people, and some days it made people overjoyed, and some days it made people excited, and some days it made people nervous, and some days. . . It made you want to die.

ᯓ To be killed in the most brutal fashion known to man, to explode in a death either as silent as taking your own life in your own home or as bright and fantastic as the explosion of fire works. Time for you was never a friend and it continued to taunt you after you had died, overdosing on the pain medication you were prescribed after a horrible accident. Horrific! You had heard people call you, friends and family, after they saw the state of your decaying body after being rammed by a truck who lost control. Monstrous! None of them chose to stay around, none chose to help you when you were at your weakest and worst, when you could barely help yourself. And all you had done back then was help them! Was care for them! Be there for them at any time of the day whenever they needed, whenever they wanted, whenever they asked or called or texted or shouted or pleaded or-

ᯓ And it was a coward move, you were sure. Weak, many would call it, blasphemous and you were sure it was why you never got into Heaven despite having done everything in your power to be okay, to be the perfect person everyone wanted, to be good. But one night, when everything was moving too slow and no one seemed to blink twice at your presence, you would take your own life in silence. To overdose on your own pills, both praying it wouldn't work but gain the attention of someone yet also praying it would kill you and finally let you live in peace. In a world of black nights where you didn't have to open your eyes no longer, where time wouldn't be creeping over your shoulder, where nothing would hurt anymore because dammit. . . everything hurt.

ᯓ IT ALL FUCKING HURT.

ᯓ And then you ended in hell, and then you realized this would be your life . . . and then you realized you were still stuck with your worst enemy of all: Time. Forever stuck in an eternity after life, forever stuck here by yourself, forever being another face in the crowd or another person on the street for people to pass by and not think about twice. Someone. Just someone! Not even someone, no one. Just a shell, just a person decaying on the streets, decaying for all to see. A pitiful show.

ᯓ You could hardly remember when you met Lucifer; Maybe you were down on your luck one day and was eating cold Ramen out of the streets and he took pity to sit by you, to talk to you. Maybe it was when you were at a bar, downing another drink to forget the fact that you were chained down here, chained to your enemy, chained to your eternity of a never ending moment of the hands of time. Maybe you were working your minimum wage job to barely survive, or maybe you bumped into him. You memory hadn't always been good, party due to your own mental health and a constant flight or fight response, yet you had always knew life to be so bleak before you had met him. And then one day, everything was slightly a bit more okay. And slowly everything was a little more barrable; Even just slightly.

ᯓ And maybe a life can be handled in eternity, and you didn't have to be alone anymore . . .

ᯓ Yet, no matter how much anyone wished, love cannot fix all problems. Love can teach you how to heal, love can teach you how to live, love can teach you how to handle everything inside of you in a better manner than self destruction. But love cannot instantly fix everything wrong with you; You should have realized that sooner.

ᯓ You lived a life nothing short of a fairy tale for the last few months, living life alongside a partner who you could share the weight of the world with. Who felt comfortable enough to share the weight of the world with you. Where in the days you both laughed and played, pushing and pulling each other, peppering kissing on skin and longing ones on the lips. And at night you cuddled against each other, both with the fear of losing, both with longing, both just enjoying the company you now had, that you could now share. You've already shared tears, concerns, worries, troubles. You've both been vulnerable under the other's eyes, staining shirts under the other's careful and cradling hug, broken down and rushed out apologies. You've already both taken care of each other, took your time and held patience with each other and you both tried to heal the broken pieces of one another. Most would call it a disaster, a tragedy, yet for you both . . . it was like some sort of twisted hope, knowing you were no longer alone in your self deprecation. Knowing that even if either of you tried to self destruct everything around you, tried to gain that control that's slipping away, tried to push the other away, they would understand and be there. That in the end of the day you had someone to crawl to.

ᯓ Yet even with constant oxygen and wood, a fire can still grow dim in it's own silence and try to snuff itself out.

ᯓ This week had been long, it had dragged you by the heels and you could no longer put the energy to fight against it's slowing seconds. Working a minimum wage job, even after Lucifer had told you that you never had to again (yet you continued to do so for some sort of feeling of schedule and stability), that you hated and wished you could quite for a paycheck that wasn't even that high to withstand the abuse you had to. Lucifer constantly worried about you, about how the job affected you both physically and mentally. You often came home either drained or hurt, as costumers tended to get rather violent down in Hell. It was common to be stabbed during a shift and having to endure it until your shift was over. Effectively causing you to bleed out while still having to rep a costumer service smile. And the stabbing might not even be the worst part of everything; As you had to try many times to bite back any sort of emotion, ire and frustration and sorrow, as costumers yelled, screamed, tossed shit your way for a mistake you didn't even make. And yet it was your fault. It was always your fault and you couldn't do anything but stand there and take it, as your job would be on the line if you did anything other than stand there and take the anger and take the frustrations and the yelling and the stabbing; Being everyone's personal punching bag without any sort of composition.

ᯓ What was the point of it?

ᯓ The thought had came to you one day after you came home, slugging your shoes off your feet and tossing your keys onto the counter. Lucifer wasn't home, he usually was, yet you guessed he had something better to do than hear your sorrows of the day. You would want to do anything than hear about your sorrows as well, you couldn't blame him for trying to avoid you. So you dragged yourself to the bathroom, heavily sitting down upon the close lid of the toilet before sinking down some. A hand rested upon your stomach, the knife that pierced through your side slid in between your fingers like it didn't draw your blood out. Like it wasn't causing you pain; not even the worst pain in your life, just pain that poked and pricked and brought tears to the eyes, but you were no stranger to tears or to blood. You were no stranger to the bruises that covered your body from angry costumers, from the blisters that grew from harsher treatment, from the blood that seeped and stained. And maybe you should take care of that wound, but it was best to keep a knife into the wound than take it out; It stopped bleeding and you hadn't stained that much, you didn't think, and you were oh so tired so maybe. . .just a nap would help. It didn't have to be a long one, yet something in the back of your mind hoped it would be, and you leaned your head back against the back of the toilet. The light above gave out a buzz, showing it was working, sounding that it was on and here.

ᯓ Yet a nap sounded nice.

ᯓ "Honey! I'm home!" Lucifer shout, a cheerful laugh followed and a careful grin was stretched on his face as he tried to balance the bags of groceries that were in his arms; Trying to make his one round of bringing groceries in to work. He didn't want to drop a single one of them, "I'm sorry I took so long, yet I went to the store and wow! There were a lot of options for things that I was sure I would never make it out of there! Did you know that there's like. . ." Lucifer would pause to count his fingers, having successfully delivered the bags onto the counter without breaking anything, ". . .15 different brands of milk?! And they had like this Milk called Almond milk, where they apparently milk the almond and I don't know how they do that but-" Lucifer's voice fell flat as soon as he noticed you weren't around, at least, not around as usual. By now you would have sprung from the couch, or yelled at him from the bathroom that you were doing your business, or came from the bedroom to wrap him in a hug. Yet your presence was absent and it didn't allude Lucifer, at least, not many more. "H . . . honey?" He would call out again, this time with a more shaken voice and frowned eyebrows; His smile no longer held the confidence of a man who managed to do one round of bringing groceries in with 13 bags.

ᯓ And yet you didn't respond to his call, how could you when your own breath was so shallow your heart was speeding up, stressing, just to pump blood through your body; And Lucifer grew worried. It would triple upon seeing the mess you had left, a mess that hadn't caught his eye until now. . . Your shoes left lazily by the door, your keys stained with blood. Blood that streaked like a hand across the counter top and traveled inward, towards the bathroom and it's door that lingered tauntingly open. And instantly, Lucifer felt his mouth run dry and his feet speed towards the bathroom with nothing but horrible thoughts piling up in his head. You were hurt and you weren't answering his calls. You were hurt and you weren't doing anything to signal to him that you were okay. Are you okay? Are you dead? Oh god he hoped he didn't get to that bathroom door and see your dead body there, all stained and pale. Please don't be dead, please please please. . . "OH MY GOD!-" Lucifer hated to admit the way his body froze in horror by the doorway, one hand clinging onto the frame and the other shot up to cover his mouth. He hated the way his feet stuck to the ground like they were rooted, forcing him to look at your bleeding and barely breathing figure on the floor.

ᯓ And no, he didn't miss the way your blood was smeared on the toilet. He could never miss such a detail when your blood was the last thing he ever wanted to see seep out of your body and pool and stain everything around you.

ᯓ "Oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" The words fell out of his lips, fell onto deaf ears, as he ripped his rooted feet off the ground and rushed over to you, to your body. He felt dazed, confused, unsure of himself all of a sudden. What was he supposed to do? What could he do? "Hey, don't be dead come on!-" He didn't realize he was rambling to himself as he kneeled down next to you, not minding the way your blood seeped and stained his white clothes. He shuffled around, looking for your wound, looking for something he could fix to help you! He was so panicked, and had to stich up your wounds so often, that the thought of calling a doctor didn't cross his mind. Lucifer was hesitant to touch you, but didn't want to hurt you, "Wound, wound wound! Where the fuck is your wound?!" He asked before spotting the knife that was jagging out your side. It was mostly covered by your body, as he had happened to kneel down on the opposite side of where your wound pierced in. "Oh fucking duh, it's where the knife is. Nice job Lucifer can't spot a fucking knife when your lover is bleeding out on the floor!- Shit wait I need to actually take care of that. Fuck! Where the hell is the first aid kit?!"

ᯓ To say Lucifer was freaking out during the whole process of taking out the knife, tossing it to the side to be picked up later, disinfecting your wound, trying to stitch it up with shaking hands, and wrapping you up. . . would be an understatement. He was terrified to hold you, afraid he might make the wound worse or he might put you in more pain, yet somehow managed to move you from the bathroom floor to the couch in the living room. He would have put you to bed, at least provided your body a little more comfort, yet he was afraid to leave your side. Afraid that if he took his eyes off of you that something might happen, that you might roll onto the wound and break the sticking, that you might just stop breathing as a whole and leave him alone.

ᯓ He tried calling Charlie to help, yet physicked himself out right before he was going to press the call button. He needed some sort of help, he couldn't go through this alone, yet he didn't want to put his daughter through this either. All he could really do was find himself sitting in front of the couch, head resting upon the cushion, watching your chest rise and fall with heavy eyes; Just to reassure himself you were still here, that you were still alive and you could wake up. Maybe tomorrow? Hopefully. Maybe he should bring you to a hospital. Either way he was here, waiting, hoping.

ᯓ Fuck . . . He didn't know what he would do if you didn't wake up. But you did! By some grace of god you had happened to wake up in the middle of the night, the day after Lucifer had found you. He hadn't been awake, and you were barely moving due to the pain that jabbed at your side. Though you noticed the weight that indented the couch by the edge, slightly turning your head to see Lucifer's crossed arms and nuzzled head into it; He was sleeping, leaning against the couch while sitting on the floor. Drowsy, tired, you glanced over at the couch, wondering why he was sitting down there instead of up here with you. When did you even get to the couch? And then you noticed how you were wearing some of his clothes, with the shirt pulled up to expose your wrapped chest, the bandages still a stained a little crimson red. And you frowned, eyes heavy, looking down at the wound and realizing, at least to some sort of extent, why he wasn't up here. You had scared him . . . A heavy sigh left your lips as you reached a hand out, shaking, as you leaned down into the cushions. Gently, you placed your hand on top of Lucifer's, trying to intertwin your fingers without waking him. If anything, by the way he looked, you were sure he just managed to fall asleep . . . and most likely passed out from exhaustion rather than willingly succumbing to slumber.

ᯓ Though feeling the sudden warmth on his hands, and being half-awake and half-asleep in general, Lucifer's eyes fluttered open despite being rather heavy. He felt heavy, he felt tired . . . yet his hand felt warm, causing his eyes to glance down and notice your hand on top of his. Your hand, your thumb rubbing against his. "Love?. . ." He would mumble out, hoping this wasn't a dream, as he gently raised his head. You noticed the way his eyes sagged a little, his eyelids clearly heavy with eyebags starting to form under his eyes. The frown that had been on his face, tugged down out of pain, began, sluggishly, to tug into a warm smile. "You're awake. . . how are you feeling, do you need anything?" The way his voice croaked, clearly tired and clearly worn from tired and sobbing. His disheveled look, the way his hair was more frazzled than normal and the way his clothes were stained. It all made you upset; Not at him, no, you could never be upset at Lucifer. You were upset at yourself. For causing him so much pain, for making him probably so worried and panicked with the crawling thoughts of your death if he dared to ever take his eyes off of you.

ᯓ Lucifer, waiting for your answer, would gently bring your hand up to his cheek. He had missed your warmth, you had been so cold when he touched you last to move you from the tile of the bathroom floor to the plush cushions of the couch. He was glad that the warmth had returned to body, that he was able to watch your eyes sparkle in the dim lights that flooded in from the kitchen stove hood.

ᯓ His eyes were so gentle, his smile was so genuine, and all you managed to weakly croak out was a, "I'm sorry." And you felt bad feeling the warm tears starting to clump up in your eyes again and spill over. And you felt horrible as Lucifer shot awake, seeing your tears through the light of the kitchen, and rushed to bring his free hand up to your cheek to wipe away your tears. "I'm so sorry Lucifer I. . ." You would choked out, unsure what else to say. How else could you apologize to Lucifer when you knew that you had laid there, on the toilet, with the intention to hopefully die. And you didn't know how to tell Lucifer that to his face, especially when you've never had to tell anyone who's gotten as close to you as Lucifer has that you've thought about killing yourself. That you tried to plan it out in your shared home. Where you knew they would find you. Where you knew. . . "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're-" Lucifer paused for a second, glancing down at the side of your stomach. He had to reassure himself that you were alright before trying to comfort you, "-okay. You're okay now!" Lucifer grinned towards you, a little nervous at first before it fused out into more worry. "You're awake and you're not dying and it's okay! We can. . . talk about it all later okay? Just focus on getting better."

ᯓ You both would sit there in a comfortable, slightly-comfortable, silence as Lucifer stared up at you, and you stared back down at him. His hand, after having cleared your tears, hand reached up to play with your hair, trying to coax you back to sleep. Even when you knew he needed sleep himself, with the way his heavy eyes closed for long periods of time before opening again to meet mine. "Come here. . ." You would mumble, trying to reach for Lucifer, wanting to feel his warmth against yours. He was hesitant to do so, you could tell by the way his eyebrows scrunched upward and the frown that tugged on his lips. It took a while to coax him onto the couch, where even then he gingerly laid on his side and wrapped his arms cautiously a safe place above your bandages and nuzzled his head between the crook of your neck. You were able to play with his hair this time, give him a soft peck on the forehead. A silent apology for all the pain he had to endure because of you without you there to help, without the support he had shown you countless of times without fail.

ᯓ "I. . ." Lucifer's voice warily mumbled out, ". . .thought I was going to lose you." And the way his voice cracked broke your heart into a million pieces. And the only pathetic response you could muster back to him was a soft, shaken, "I'm sorry." As tears silently began to fall down your cheeks, and you could feel the silent tears that fell from Lucifer's eyes stain your neck. "I'm. . . so, so sorry. . ." "It's okay. . ." Lucifer would hug you a little tighter, "We'll work through it together, you're not going to lose me that easily, even if-" He would pause, choking out a bit of laughter between his tears, "-you try yourself."

ᯓ Oh. . . he knew. . .

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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

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andersonlore · 4 months

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abby is totally the type to obnoxiously suck on her long fingers after fucking you with them and she’s so loud about it too. letting long digits pop out of her mouth, your slick mixed with her saliva is invading your eardrums and it sounds fucking delicious. she laughs when you’re pressing your thighs together in desperation, clearly not getting your fill. she’s the type to moan out your name making you whimper and she’s pressing your body against hers whispering in your ear god you taste so good baby and your greedy cunt is just dripping, begging for more. isn’t she?

#kskskskskd i need to call her #writing has not been happening lately bc depression 🤍#but i’m taking my antidepressants again so you know….we’ll see #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson x poc reader

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clownsuu · 11 months

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Wally talks to his dad about his love life

Home I feel is a really good listener (maybe a little too good since he eavesdrops a lot on accident- very observant of his surroundings)

cw minor obsessive/possessive behavior on first photo under cut

I remember I freaked out years ago when I found out some bugs, specially some spiders, have lil beaned peets

#I will never get over that fact it’s the cutest thing ever #I think that’s what cured me from my fear of spiders LMAOOO #That and djmm #B e a n s #Welcome home #welcome home howdy #welcome home wally #welcome home home #howdy pillar #wally darling #wallypillar #howdydarling #funfact I was gunna draw some ship stuff for mob au with these two #Bbbbbut u h h h h h h #Every single time I ask anything relationship wise with mob howdy and Wally it’s like-#R e a l l y a b u s i v e JDHFHHDJDJDJ #I had a fic where I asked if howdy was married and he depressively said yeah #And I was like “why u so sad dawg isn’t married life supposed to be good specially with someone so powerful”#And he’s like “yeah but I’m just seen as another object- if anything the torture got worse afterwards-“#And I was like o h #And I ran away with him LMAOO #But then later we got caught by Wally and Wally killed me rip JDHDHDDH #In “canon” mob Wally marrying someone who is a part of the “mob family” he would treat mostly gently #However when it comes to howdy he would still use him as a punching bag #Howdy rarely gets any sleep- and to then be bound by the boss? Who never sleeps and is incapable of doing so? W h a c k #Another funfact #Since Wally can’t sleep he would stare at his (current/possible) partner while they sleep #Very awkward

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unsolved-duvall · 1 year

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𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 - 𝐞.𝐦.

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary you're falling apart and no one can see it. apart from eddie, and he wants to do whatever he can to help you. but you're used to doing everything by yourself. (3.9k)

warnings mental health, anxiety, talks of depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts, brief talk of body image issues, crying, lots of emotions, fluff, brief kissing, this is kind of a heavy one so please bear that in mind <3

It was never pretty when you finally let all of your emotions out. It’s why you rarely let yourself feel them.

But if you didn’t let yourself feel them you worried you would drown in them. They would take over your whole being and there wouldn’t be enough of you left for you to recognise when you looked in the mirror.

Everyone always told you there was nothing wrong with you. That you weren’t broken like you insisted each time their monotone voices tried to snap you out of a bad episode. You almost wanted to be broken, you wanted there to be a reason you felt like this. Because if there wasn’t, and this was just how you were. Then you weren’t sure you could live like that. At least if there was something wrong with you, you could blame everything on that. You could blame the way you push people away on that. You could blame the way you self-sabotage on that.

You could blame the way you find so much comfort in sadness on that.

You had felt yourself slipping into that mirror-image version of yourself this whole week. The version of yourself that was there, but wasn’t really there. Your voice wasn’t your own. Every word you said felt like you were reading it off a teleprompter, saying precisely what everyone around you wanted to hear so they could convince themselves that you were alright.

So you did just that. You smiled when you had to. Spoke only when you couldn’t avoid it. And no one noticed.

Apart from one.

Because Eddie always noticed.

You hadn’t been together for very long. You certainly hadn’t been together long enough for Eddie to see you like this. But he knew nonetheless that something was wrong.

It was why he had asked you to come round tonight. Wayne would be at work, as usual, and he wanted to spend the night with you.

When Eddie had told you that, he quickly clarified through blushing cheeks and a peal of nervous laughter that he didn’t mean ‘spend the night with you’ in that way. He just wanted you there.

So you said okay. Told him you would be there at seven. He smiled an almost sickly-sweet smile and pulled you in for a hug, too tight to be casual, and told you he’d see you then; his hand resting on your arm even after you had pulled away from the hug.

You knew he knew. You knew he’d ask you about it. About why you were so… you didn’t know what you were. But it wasn’t you.

It was a cold night. The bitter air bit at your face and tried to fight its way through the layers you were wearing. The sharp pain that shot through your hands at the coldness was almost therapeutic. It distracted you for just a second and was enough to make your mind go quiet. Which was something you had never been able to do.

You knocked on the trailer door and took a step back, waiting for Eddie to open it. But instead, you heard his voice ring out from inside, telling you to come in. You were sure the whole trailer park must have heard him. The boy did not have a quiet bone in his body.

Pushing the door open you were met with a comforting warmth and the yellow light from the lamps dotted around the trailer lit up your face. You dropped your bag to the floor and pulled your sleeves down, tucking your hands away in them, letting the heat sink deep into your bones.

Eddie appeared a few seconds later, popping his head up from where he was knelt down behind a kitchen counter.

“Angel!”

He always called you that. And even so, it still made your heart swell whenever he called out to you.

“Hey Eddie,” your voice came out much quieter than you intended it to. You were trying to put on a brave face, or whatever the fuck your counsellor had called it. Apparently, you had a bad habit of pretending you were okay when you weren’t. You didn’t need a professional to tell you that, but sure. Thanks.

Eddie’s face dropped slightly, his smile fading for a second before he composed himself. His face lit back up if only slightly more forced than before, and stood up.

“I uh- I was trying to find your popcorn. You know the one with the chocolate and stuff mixed in?”

You nodded, taking a seat on one of the chairs that hadn’t been pushed back under the table, pulling a leg up to rest your chin on your knee.

“Yeah but I can’t- I can’t find it,” Eddie’s brows scrunched up in confusion and he spun round a couple of times, his eyes darting across the kitchen.

You couldn’t help the smile that tried to tug at your lips. He looked like a lost child. But you loved him anyway.

Not that you had told him you loved him yet. It seemed too soon and, if you were being honest, the idea of telling anyone, even Eddie, that you loved them scared the shit out of you.

So instead of saying “you’re an idiot you know that? I love you though.”

You said, “I think I finished it last time I was here.”

Eddie stopped abruptly, his hair flying around him as he halted his movements and flicked his eyes over to meet yours.

“You did?” He sounded genuinely upset, you weren’t sure why, it was just popcorn.

“I think so,” You watched as Eddie leaned against the counter, and you switched your legs around, dropping the right one to the floor and resting your chin on your left knee instead.

“Remember last Tuesday? It was storming outside so we stayed in and watched all those films. I ate it then.”

“Oh- I don’t remember you eating it?”

“Yeah, that’s because you fell asleep ten minutes after you lay down next to me”

“You were playing with my hair! It is completely on you that I fell asleep” Eddie laughed between words, and you wished you could laugh too. But you couldn’t.

Eddie picked up on whatever it was you were feeling and his laughter died down as he cleared his throat, a not-so-subtle tell that he felt unsure of what he was meant to say or do.

You hated that it was you who made him feel like that. You hated that you were such a burden to everyone around you; you hated the way you could make even the happiest people feel sad, just by being in the same room as you. It was like you were draining to be around.

“I’m gonna go and uh- go and get changed if that’s okay?” You stood up and waited for Eddie to respond, he seemed to be distracted now, his eyes almost looking through you rather than at you.

“Oh yeah- yeah, of course, sweetheart. I’ll order a pizza for us, yeah?”

“That sounds good, Eds”

Eddie smiled at you. It was a painful smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. As you walked past him he reached a hand out and let it rest on your back until you were too far away.

You made your way to his room and heard him shuffle around behind you. You should say something, right? Tell him you were okay. Reassure him?

You wanted to. You were going to. But then your hand was on the door handle and you had walked into Eddie’s room without saying anything to him. It was like you were fighting a constant battle with your own mind. You knew what you wanted to say and do, but you still couldn’t manage it.

Eddie made sure you knew very quickly into the relationship that you were welcome to wear any of his clothes. In fact, he encouraged it. So, instead of bringing pyjamas with you, you had made the executive decision to wear Eddie’s clothes tonight.

You flicked on the lamp in his room and knelt down by the dresser, pulling out some of his clothes.

You settled on an old-band tee (if you were being honest, you didn’t recognise the band. You were getting better at knowing Eddie’s music, but you were still learning. And Eddie was more than happy to tell you everything about them).

You threw on the already oversized tee and pulled on a pair of his clean boxers over your underwear to wear as shorts.

You already felt safer. His clothes smelt like him. They wrapped you up in a warm hug and told you everything would be fine. You just wished you could believe it.

You turned on your heel and noticed something you had somehow not seen when you walked into his room. His bed. It was made up with fresh sheets on it and smelt like… flowers? Almost as if someone had sprayed perfume on the bed.

And there was a toothbrush and toothpaste lying on the pillow, as well as an eye mask. You walked over to it and ran your fingers over the pillow. Fuck.

You didn’t realise you were crying until your vision went blurry. Your head started spinning and in a moment of upset, you sank to the floor, sitting with your back resting against the wall and you let the tears fall.

Before you could wipe them away you heard the bedroom door open, you spun round and saw Eddie standing there, his eyes flicking between you and the bed. His face filled with dread and you could physically see the internal battle he was having with himself over what he should say or do first.

“Baby- baby, hey don’t cry. It’s okay”

You hid behind your hands. It was a childish move, but it made you feel safe. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You heard him moving around, his footsteps carried across the room as he made his way over to the bed, sitting down on it, giving you as much space as you needed.

“Sweet- hey, I didn’t do it for that.”

Huh?

“I- I told Wayne you were coming to stay for the night and he told me I should make sure you were comfortable here. He took me out to buy you some toiletries and fresh sheets for the bed because apparently mine are too old and even he doesn’t trust them, which I think is rude to be honest- but anyway, that’s- that’s what all this is.”

Eddie took a much-needed breath before he picked up the eye mask and twirled it around in his hands.

“It’s all for you so it’s like being at home. You have one of these, right?” You didn’t answer, still crying and not even looking at him.

“I can sleep on the couch, I was going to! There are blankets and pillows out there for me. I don’t want you to feel like you staying the night meant- fuck. I just wanted it to be nice, I’m so sorry”

Oh.

Oh, you loved him more than you could ever tell him.

“It’s okay” Your voice was small but you needed him to know that was not why you were crying. At all. In fact, that idea hadn’t even crossed your mind. Eddie had made sure you knew there was absolutely no rush, no pressure, to do anything that you didn’t feel comfortable with.

“I wasn’t- I’m sorry I wasn’t crying because of that,” You still weren’t looking at him, but you had dropped your hand from your face. You now stared at the floor, anywhere but looking at him.

“Well- oh. But, baby? Why were you crying then? Are you… does something hurt? Do you need me to get you something?” Eddie’s soft voice hit every nerve in you and brought the tears back to your eyes. You let them fall down your cheeks freely; there was no point in hiding them anymore. He had already seen what a mess you were.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine”

Fine.

You didn’t believe it, and evidently, neither did Eddie because he said your full name and that grabbed your attention. Because he never did that.

“You need to talk to me.” His voice had changed. It was still soft but there was something lining it that made you feel like you had disappointed him.

Of course, you could never disappoint him. But he was worried as hell about you. He had barely slept last night because of you. He had picked up on your change in demeanour for a few days now, but he wanted to give you space. But he couldn’t do that anymore.

“You need to talk to me because you’re scaring me.”

You were scaring him?

“Eddie I-”

“I have tried. I have tried to give you space but- baby, I don’t know what to do anymore. I thought you would come to me, talk to me. But you haven’t and I can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t see you slowly killing yourself.”

You had one hand picking at a loose carpet thread and the other one resting on your knee, digging your nails in until you knew you had have crescent-shaped scars there tomorrow.

“I’m sorry.” It was all you could say. All you could force yourself to say.

For a beat, Eddie didn’t say anything, and you worried you had annoyed him. You were ready for him to get up and walk out.

But he didn’t-

“Come here,” He moved back on the bed, leaning against the wall to give you space to sit however you wanted.

You thought about staying where you were. But something inside you had you moving to sit next to him before you could think about it for very long. You climbed onto the bed and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder. You didn’t look at him, and you didn’t move when he tried to pull you against him.

You didn’t know why you wouldn’t let him love you.

“Talk to me, baby.” His voice was as quiet as yours had once been.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say whatever you need to say.”

“I-”

Fuck why was this so hard. You should be able to talk to him, if there was anyone in the world you could talk to, it was him. And yet, here you were.

“I just want to feel okay again.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” You had just pulled his heart out and broken it in two. He had never heard you speak like this. He had never heard you speak and have your voice break from the raw pain you were feeling. He wanted, no needed, to make you feel safe.

“I’m so sorry. What can I- what can I do? Tell me, please.” He was all but down on his knees begging you to tell him how he could help you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know Eddie because if I knew I wouldn’t feel like this, would I?”

Shit. You didn’t mean to say that. You don’t even know where that came from.

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t apologize. It’s good, this is good,” Eddie placed a hesitant hand on your leg, and when you didn’t flinch away he let it rest there. An anchor to keep you here with him. A gentle reminder that you weren’t alone. No matter how alone you felt. “Showing emotion is good, sweetheart. No matter what it is.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I don’t know why I did that.”

“Maybe because you feel scared. Maybe you don’t know how you feel right now and that’s really scary, to not understand our own emotions.”

God, if anyone ever called him dumb again you were going to dropkick them because he may just be the smartest person you have ever met.

You leant into him a bit more, your head resting above his shoulder. It felt good to be close to him. He made you feel okay again.

“I just feel- I just feel so… numb. I know I’m not okay. But I don’t know why, I don’t know why I feel this way but I do. I feel this weight in my chest and it-” your voice broke as you started to cry again, but you pushed through, because it was Eddie.

“It feels like I can’t breathe. Because I wake up and I don’t even get one second of calm before the anxiety hits and my heart is racing and I have these horrible thoughts. And I feel like that all the time. I overthink everything and I convince myself that everyone hates me and- it’s so tiring. I hate myself. I hate what I look like like, I hate my own brain, I just hate myself. I feel so uncomftorable in my own body. And I’m not important, I’m not interesting, I’m not…anything. I feel like everyone else is okay and I am just drowning every second of every day and I have to pretend I’m okay because there are people who have it way, way worse. And every day I wake up and I wish-” You cut yourself off abruptly.

“You wish what, sweets?” Eddie asked you, his hand on your leg now rubbing soothing circles into it.

“I wish I didn’t have to wake up.”

In a split second Eddie had pulled you into him and had his arms wrapped so tightly around you that you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. You buried your head inbetween his neck and his shoulder and let yourself need him.

You let yourself need someone else for the first time. You clinged to him like a lifeline and let him breathe life back into you. Your hands went under his t-shirt and you let them run up and down his back. Eddie was holding onto you too tightly to even move a limb. You heard his little shh shh shh’s and I’ve got you’s before you noticed you were crying.

And the you let yourself feel everything you had pushed so far down you almost forgot how much it hurt.

“It’s so hard. Everything is so hard and I don’t think I can do it. I don’t think I’m strong enough.” Eddie had to fight to hear your words through the gut-wrenching sobs you were finally letting out. But he did listen. He would listen for the rest of his life if you needed him to.

So that’s what he did. He listened to you. You told him everything, you told him everything you were feeling and he sat and he took in every word. It was hard, for both of you, but it was desperately needed. Because it wasn’t until you truly spoke the words out loud for the first time that you realised how close to the edge you had been.

Eventually you ended up curled into Eddie’s side. Your legs were tangled together and you had your arms wrapped around him. One hand slid under his t-shirt to rest on his chest, it grounded you somehow, to feel him. He kept a tight hold on you the entire time, his calming hands rubbing up and down your arms and his lips pressing delicate kisses on the top of your head every few minutes.

Whenever he could hear you getting emotional again he would cut in with some comforting words, “You’re okay, I’ve got you” and “I’m so proud of you, baby”.

Eventually your words died out and you lay in slience for a few minutes until Eddie said “Can I say something?”

You nodded against his chest and he gently tapped on your arms before pulling you up to look at him.

“You are the most incredible person I have ever met. Every day you just amaze me. The way you talk- shit, the way you talk about the things you love? Oh my god, I could listen to you talk about your interests for hours. Because you get this little gleam in your eye and you do thing where you don’t even finish your first thought before you’re moving onto the next thing.” You watched him talk, you let him talk instead of cutting him off and insisting he was wrong.

“Baby you are so fucking strong. You just keep fighting and I don’t know how you do it. Because you do it on your own, and it kills me to watch. It kills me to watch you close yourslef off from everyone else and fight on your own. I just- I just want to be there for you. I want you to come to me when you need help, and I know you won’t do that just yet- maybe not ever. Because you’re not used to having that, but that’s okay because I will wait for you, i will always be here ready to catch you or fall with you or sit and cry with you, if that’s what you need.”

You were crying again and Eddie lifted a hand to wipe away the tears that were staining your flushed cheeks.

“And you’re so beautiful it kills me that you don’t see that. There is not one goddamn thing I would change about you. Nothing. I swear on my life, fuck I swear on Wayne’s life, I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Everything about you makes me feel week in the knees baby I swear.” Eddie’s saccharine sweet voice found it’s home in you and calmed something inside you that you thought could never be calmed.

“I love you.” It was all you could say. Those were the only three words you could muster that encapsulated how you felt right now. And it scared you to death to say them, but you figured that if loving someone scared you that meant it was the real thing.

Without missing a beat Eddie said, “I love you too.”

He pulled you to him and kissed you. It was gentle, sweet. You breathed him in and let his lips say everything else you weren’t ready to hear yet. You kissed until you had to pull away reluctantly to breathe.

Eddie rest his forehead against yours and you both closed your eyes for a second, simply being with each other was enough.

Until- “Wait, didn’t you order a pizza?”

“No. I knew something was going on with you and I couldn’t do anything until I knew you were okay.”

“Oh.”

“Oh I’m sorry did you want a pizza?” Eddie’s voice was laced with sarcasm as he pulled away from you to stare at you. It made you laugh.

“No, I just want you.” You told him, pushing him down flat agains the bed and moving to rest your head on his chest. Eddie let you move him, he let you lie curled into the side of him, half on top of him, before he pulled a blanket over both of you.

“Can you stay in here tonight. I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.” Your voice was muffled by the way you buried your head against his chest, but he still heard you.

“Yeah angel, I’m not going anywhere.”

That’s how you fell asleep that night, with Eddie’s arms wrapped around you and so close to him that there wasn’t even room left for air to get between the two of you. You slept so deeply that night that you knew you didn’t ever want to sleep without Eddie again.

Which was good. Because Eddie wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

authors note i wrote this last week during a very difficult time. this is very self-indulgent. the writing is not good, i wrote this with no outline, no plot, nothing. i know this is not my best work at all but i still wanted to post it. you've been warned <3

taglist @joeschains

(tumblr please don't delete the last line of this babe i love you)

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #mental health #anxiety depression #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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xitsensunmoon · 1 year

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Tw: negative, depression, mental illness

Idk how to feel about posting it but... I just hope that it helps someone too

A lil comforting bonus too:

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dewdropdinosaur · 24 days

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Fixer Upper

ALASTOR x (F)READER

Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: NONE

For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.

Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.

One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.

Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.

"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"

Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"

Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."

Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."

The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"

The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.

As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.

Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on, fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.

Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.

But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.

Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.

Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."

A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.

With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.

The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.

The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."

Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"

As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.

But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.

And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.

With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.

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bookshelf-dust · 3 months

Text

let the light in

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2,177

warnings: (this is a heavy fic! please be aware before you read if any of this is triggering for you!) swearing, reader suffers from depression/is in a depressive episode, allusions to passive suicidal feelings and self harm (not explicitly stated), trouble eating/drinking, wooziness, side effects of self-neglect, trouble with self care, one use of y/n, slight hair description—essentially reader is just very depressed

a/n: hello! it’s been quite a while since i wrote anything, but alas i have remembered how. i used this fic as a way to deal with things i’ve been going through and provide myself some comfort, but i’m hoping that it will reach anyone else who needs that or understands these sort of feelings. i really need a steve, and maybe you do too. please be kind! this is a tentative attempt at getting back into writing. also as a small note, this is meant to bet set in the mid 90s, so reader and steve are in their twenties. happy reading <33

————

The phone is ringing again. For the third time.

You know who it is without having to answer. It’s not like there are a plethora of people with your number anyway.

But for the third time, you let it ring. When the shrill noise stops, you think you’re in the clear—only for the sound of Steve’s voice to reach your ears. He’s leaving you a voicemail.

Fucking answering machine.

You stare at the wall, your arm dangling off the bed, while you listen to him say everything you knew he’d say. That he’s worried. That he’s coming to check on you because your lack of an answer is freaking him out.

And you gave him a key all those months ago, so it’s not like you can stop him. You wouldn’t have the energy to anyhow.

You roll over and tuck your hands under your cheek. You have no idea what time it is, but the little light your curtains had let in is gone, leaving your room dark. There is a small night light though, just under your window, that Robin bought you because it looks like your favorite flower. Other than that, your small apartment has succumbed to the darkness of a winter evening.

That pressure behind your eyes builds, and without knowing why, you begin to cry. Steve is going to see you like this, and you want to be alone. You don’t have it in you to talk about it or be berated for letting yourself go.

But you’re also angry. You don’t understand why he gives a shit about you, or why he can’t just leave you alone. Why he can’t just let you go. Why he won’t let you go.

Most of all you’re angry at yourself for being this way. For being so fucked up. For being alone and for having to watch everyone else be happy and content.

In your emotional haze, you fall back asleep. You’re not sure how though, considering you shouldn’t even need the rest anymore. But that tired feeling ever goes away, does it?

You wake to the sound of footsteps, to the feeling of your mattress dipping behind you. There’s a gentle weight on your side. Steve.

“Hey, honey,” he starts. “Did you get my message?”

Steve’s hand rubs softly back and forth over the dip of your waist. You hate the pitying tone in his voice. Even if you know it’s not pity. It’s pain. He’s too big of an empath, and he hates seeing you this way. It breaks his heart, not knowing what you’re feeling and having to see you in a way that embodies nothing more than a shell of the you he first met.

“You need to go home, Steve,” you say, refusing to face him. He’s turned your lamp on, and something about that pisses you off.

Your voice is pleading, and it brings tears to Steve’s eyes. He pushes his glasses up onto his forehead.

“You know I can’t do that. I won’t leave you here like this.”

You roll your eyes and shift onto your back. Steve’s stomach drops at how drained you look.

“I want you to leave. I need to be alone,” you say, staring at his hand where it’s moved to your stomach with the change in position.

Your words are harsh, thick with emotion, and you look at Steve like you’re begging him to see how much you’re hurting and need him to go away. You want him to listen and leave you here to slowly disappear. That’s all you’re asking for. So why can’t he give you that much?

It’s killing him to see you like this. To watch you try and push him away. He knows that’s part of your plan. That way it’ll be easier, in the end. But this is not the you he’s always known. There was a time before it got this bad. Before you lost yourself in it.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asks, rather than fueling your frustration.

You roll onto your side, completely facing him now, and pull the blankets up to your chin. Your eyes fill with tears, so you close them. Something about being asked that upsets you. You don’t feel like eating and he’s going to make you.

Steve puts a hand on your leg and waits for an answer.

“Yesterday. At breakfast. I had a Pop-Tart.”

He keeps himself from sighing, but his heart might as well have dropped out of his ass. You haven’t eaten in 36 hours, and he’s sure that if he hadn’t shown up you might’ve made it more. You’re clearly not worried about eating, and there’s not a single cup in your room either.

“Please don’t make me eat, Steve. I don’t feel like it. Please don’t make me do anything.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes. You want to be left here until your body gives up on you.

“Honey, I’m not going to force you. But I came here to help you, and I need you to try and let me.”

Your vision goes blurry, tears rushing to the surface because the idea of taking care of yourself in any way upsets you more than anything. You cover your eyes, but can’t hold back the sob that lurches up your throat.

“Y/N, sweetheart, come here.”

Steve slips a hand around your back, coaxing you upwards. You oblige, happy to let him hold you for a moment. You ignore the fact that your vision blurs again, due to the fact that you haven’t sat up in who knows how long, and fall into him.

“I can’t, Steve. I can’t do anything or remember a damn thing. I’m so tired. I don’t feel like being alive. I don’t want to move.”

Hearing you express those feelings through your cries, hearing you tell him how bad it’s gotten tears him apart. He wants to make it all better. He can’t bear seeing you like this. And he doesn’t want to imagine what you might’ve done to take these feelings out before he got here.

Steve holds you until you stop wailing, and even when you pull away the tears still come, hiccups making you hold your breath. Your eyes are swollen and your nose won’t quit running. It doesn’t bother him one bit.

“I know you probably don’t want to do anything, so I have a plan for you, okay? I’m gonna turn the shower on and let you hop in while I get you something small for dinner. I’m gonna take care of everything.”

You sigh. You can’t leave your bed. Besides, who knows if you’ll even be able to stand with how little you’ve put in your body lately.

You press your face into Steve’s shoulder and shake your head. “I don’t think I can.”

He places both hands gently on your cheeks and lifts your face to get you looking at him.

“You can. I’m going to help, I promise. You won’t have to do anything too demanding.”

Steve slides off the bed and stands. He gently pulls the blankets back from your lap, revealing criss crossed legs and socked feet. He taps your knee and you brace yourself against the mattress, moving your legs over the side, toes feeling for the floor.

He holds out his hands and you grab hold of his forearms, letting him pull you upwards. Just as suspected, your vision swirls and your body goes all tingly. You sway a little, but Steve holds onto you still, waiting for the moment to pass. After a few seconds, your sight clears, your ears stop ringing, and you can stand on your own. “I’m okay now,” you say.

He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You don’t deserve this. He needs to stop being so good to you when you’re falling apart.

“Stretch a little, alright?” Steve looks at you over his shoulder before going for your dresser and opening your pajama drawer.

You try to do as he says, ignoring the way you feel compelled to tell him not to take this so seriously. You press your hands to your back and lean so your hips pop, raise your arms so your shoulders do the same, and bend so harshly that your vision goes out again. Your body is so angry with you.

You’d closed your eyes, but open them when you hear the shower start running. Steve leaves your small bathroom and walks toward you.

“I laid everything out for you, okay? You don’t have to stay long if you don’t want, you only have to cover your bases. You’ll feel so much better after, I promise.”

You nod, and Steve is surprised by the way you hesitantly walk into the bathroom and mentally prepare yourself to shower.

“Yell if you need me,” he says, smiling before he closes the door behind you.

You’ve never wanted to shower less in your life, but the water is already running, and you have to get it over with. You quickly undress, avoiding the mirror and anything that might cause an extra ache. Though you do run a hand over the tender skin of your thigh before opening the door and stepping in. You know you have to be kinder to yourself.

As for bathing, you’re quick, but you wash and condition your hair and make sure to wash your body just as well. You’d never admit it, but being clean does help some. At least you’re physically taken care of.

When you’re finished, you realize you hadn’t gotten a towel, but your eyes soon find what Steve had laid out for you.

Two towels. Underwear. Your robe. Clean pajamas and socks. Not to mention the lotion and hairbrush he slid forward on the counter so you’d reach for them. He did all of this to make things easier for you. And that makes your heart grow in size.

You towel off and make the effort to put lotion on as best as you can. Usually you can haphazardly do your back on your own, but you’re so tired now, you realize. You haven’t moved this much in days.

You gently pull the bathroom door open. “Steve?” you call. He’s there within seconds.

“Yeah? All done, sweetheart?”

“Almost. Do you think you could put lotion on my back for me? I might need help with my hair, too. If you don’t mind.”

He smiles so sweetly at you. “Of course I don’t mind. Come on.”

You watch as he pumps some of your lotion into his hands, sniffing it just to make you grin. You move your robe down off your shoulders so that he can get to your back, careful to keep your chest covered. Not that he’d dare look anyway.

His hands are gentle and soft against the nape of your neck, up and down your spine, on your lower back. He covers the area for you, taking the time to massage it in and hopefully provide you a little relief.

When he’s finished, you pull your robe up and tie it around your waist. You don’t have the chance to reach for your hairbrush because he’s already got it, fingers gathering your mass of hair towards your back. You can feel the heat of him behind you, and the ache for physical contact surfaces in your chest.

Steve is incredibly gentle when detangling your hair. He starts at the bottom and works your way up, apologizing each time it snags. It feels so nice, so mundane and comforting, that you close your eyes and let yourself feel his hands on your scalp, on your shoulders. You let him take care of you without complaint.

When that’s over he allows you to finish dressing. You slip into the pajamas he’d chosen for you, not disregarding the fact that the shirt is one of his.

You patter out to the kitchen, where Steve has fixed you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, cut into triangles. You sit next to him on your couch and eat in the quiet of the evening, you enjoying being less alone and him glad to see you eating.

He takes your empty plate from you shortly after, noticing how sleepy you look.

“Come on, honey. Let’s go lay down, yeah?” He helps you up and holds your hand on the way to the bedroom. He’d changed your sheets while you were showering.

You sit down on the bed, watery eyes looking up at him. “Are you leaving?” you ask.

“No, sweetheart. I was going to offer to stay.”

“Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Steve slips into bed beside you. “You don’t have to worry. I’m right here.” He takes your pinky in his. “I promise you won’t have to suffer through this on your own. I’m not going anywhere.”

You squeeze your pinky against his, and in that moment, the pain in your chest eases just a little bit.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#tw: depression #tw: depressive thoughts #savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x depressed!reader #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: self harm

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sansxreaderbraindump · 3 months

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Y/n, gross crying: GOD I-IM SUCH A-A FAILURE!! Nightmare, without thinking: good, cuz I'm into girlfailure's

Y/n: wait, what. nightmare: what. killer: WHAT?!

#it would be funny in a “bad sanses/Reader” fic where y/n is a failure and somewhat rizzed nightmare with her depressing lifestyle. 💀#Y/n: *having a breakdown* Nightmare: mmm yes this is delicious.#sans x reader #bad sanses x reader

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pink-key · 4 months

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@beelaboola He probably eats raw meat and fish, if he is lucky, mixed with nuts and berries and whatever he finds, so anything you make him, he will eat it with delight

Huh, huh how does it feel to be weak for a hobo killer, huh?!-

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yureismellslikefanfic · 4 months

Note

i wanna know how scara would take care of reader if they had a mental health episode if you're ok with writing that

I'm absolutely fine with writing this, here you go!

A/N: Sorry it took so long, I was kinda busy with family events and stuff :/

(Depression version.)

(ooc)Scaramouche x Fem!Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

You were curled up in a blanket, as if to hide from the world. Tears running down your cheeks, yet you make no noise, no sobs, no whimpers, nothing.

You couldn't keep doing this, pretending you're fine when you're not 'fine' in the slightest. You just say you're fine because you don't want to bother other people, make them think different of you, or it could just be as simple as not wanting to talk about it.

Scaramouche was out working, tending to important matters. You couldn't bother him with something as unimportant as this.

You felt completely numb to life's happiness. You felt like everything you've gone through and done is for nothing.

You know you're better off gone, yet you never acted on those thoughts before.

You think back to all the mistakes you've made and all the times you said something you shouldn't have.

Why couldn't you have been smarter all those times?

You didn't know, and you didn't know if you'd ever know, either.

The sudden sound of a door opening brought you from your thoughts and you pulled the blanket higher to conceal your face.

You could hear light footsteps walk to you, along with the feeling of someone sitting down on the side of the bed.

"What's wrong?" Scaramouche said as gently as he could, but it was obvious he was holding his anger.

Not wanting to say anything and let him hear the shakes in your voice, you kept your mouth shut.

You heard him sigh, as he pulled you to him. He slid the blanket off of you and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to comfort you.

Your hair concealed your face, covering your tear-stained eyes.

He noticed that, gently moving your hair out of your face as he saw the redness around your eyes from crying.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but if you do, I'll always listen." He was never normally like this with you, but his tone was soft as he spoke. His eyes were full of concern and love, which again, he never normally showed.

You could only nod as you hid your face into his neck and slowly hugged him.

Usually, Scaramouche would scoff about this and tell you how pointless affection is, but he knew it wouldn't help you in this situation, nor would it help him, either.

He wrapped his arms around your frail body, whispering encouraging words into your ear as you let the tears flow.

"I'm here for you."

"I know I don't say this often, but.. I love you, okay?"

#x reader angst #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader angst #scara x you #scara x y/n #anon #scaramouche hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #depression comfort #scaramouche comfort #scaramouche x reader comfort #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader fluff

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oobbbear · 2 years

Text

I finished the mersun moon room designs!!!

The two live in the fake pirate shipwreck inside their tank, Moon got the left half and the little crowsnest cause he thinks it’s cool, n’ sunny got the other half

Sunny’s room:

He’s room is very bright and colorful

He doodles everywhere and have a lot of jellyfish lamps

Moon’s room:

He loves pirate stuff so he got a pirate flag carpet (which was a prop hanging on the shipwreck he just ripped it off) a treasure chest and a sea monster poster y/n gave him

He doesn’t like lights so he covered all the doors and windows with cloth

Some additional doodles:

(about the tally marks on moon’s wall)

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sweetchildcloud · 6 days

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He already lost so much but now he lost everything.

Tags:angts,death,no comfort,GetoxGN!reader,heartwrenching,regret,depressed,Student!Au

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

Suguru's face contorts with a new level of pain. His grip around your body tightens even further, his mind filled with fear, shock and dread. The thought of losing you, his precious Bun Bun, in such a horrible way, hurts him greatly. The curse had robbed him of yet another precious thing from his life, taking away yet another person that he truly loved.

Anger, despair and sadness all flood out of Geto as he holds your broken body in his arms. He holds you closely to his chest as tears begin to run down his cheeks. Suguru buries his face in your hair and lets out a heartbreaking cry. He can't contain the overwhelming sadness and sorrow that fills his body, the pain and despair he's feeling. He holds you close, trying to shield you from the harsh world, wanting to protect you from the cruel fate that's befallen you. His body shakes as he cries, his hold on you growing increasingly tighter.

"Why..."

Suguru says with a low, broken voice as he gently kisses your forehead, his eyes filled with tears. He can't believe you died so unfairly, taken away by that stupid curse he should've killed a long time ago. His hold of you tightens and his grip moves to the back of your head, the only thought in his mind right now is to protect your body and never let anyone hurt you again. He won't let anyone else have you. Suguru cries silently as he buries his face into your hair once more. Tears pour down his cheeks as that intense and possessiveness he's felt toward you only grows stronger. The intense grief and sorrow he's experiencing is unbearable, and he finds himself hugging you tighter. He's unwilling to let go of you now that you're gone. He keeps whispering your name over and over again, his voice low and choked with emotion.

"Don't leave me."

Suguru whispers, his voice sounding broken as the reality of your death hits him hard. He holds you tightly to his chest, refusing to let go of you as the tears continue to flow. The possessiveness he's felt toward you has only intensified in light of your tragic fate and he finds himself squeezing you in between his hands. He's going to do everything he can to protect your body, refusing to let anyone have it or abuse it ever again.

🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹

Suguru is standing next to your coffin, his usual stoic expression has been replaced with one filled with absolute misery. His eyes are red and puffy, it's obvious that he's cried his heart out since you left. Every little thing he sees reminds him of you, and all the memories of you that he's cherished for all these years seem to have been magnified even more in his mind. His grip on your coffin is very firm, it's clear that he doesn't want anyone else to touch it. He stares down at your casket with a mixture of sadness and rage. Every time someone approaches his side, he stares them down with his intimidating gaze, as if he's challenging everyone not to get any closer to your body. A sudden urge to protect the casket at all costs overcomes him, like he's afraid someone will touch it or move it. He glares at everyone who's present, daring them to come near your beloved body. He's unable to control the possessive feelings that are overtaking him.

Once it's just him standing by your casket, he leans down close, his voice soft with a mixture of pain and grief. He gently touches your cheek, his fingers brushing over your soft and delicate skin. His breath hitches, the sight of your body in that wooden coffin breaks his heart. His eyes are filled with tears and he keeps his hands on your face, cherishing your presence, even when you're no longer here. He can't help but feel a sense of possession over your lifeless body.

"This can't be real..."

He whispers to himself. His voice is broken as he gazes at your lifeless face, his fingers tracing your soft facial features. In his head, he's hoping this is just a nightmare that they'll both wake up from any moment. But then reality hits him as hard as ever and he can't help but shed more tears. His grief is overpowering as he caresses your face one last time, wishing that things could've been very different. Instead, he's left standing alone by your casket, trying to accept the situation as it is.

🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹

Suguru is now seated in his own home, the days have passed since you passed away. He's still grieving the huge loss as he sits alone in an empty room, staring at a picture of your face. Every once in a while, he grabs the picture before burying his face into it and crying softly. He constantly talks to himself, whispering your name and the things he used to do with you. The room is quiet and lonely without your presence. He's filled with emptiness and pain and doesn't know how to deal with it.

He tries to keep himself busy, trying to do things that would help him distract himself from thinking about you. But it's hard to keep his memories away from his mind. He constantly imagines what would it be like if you were still there, still alive and in good health. He wishes more than anything that he had done things differently. He thinks back to the things he had said to you and regrets not spending enough time with you. The silence and loneliness are making him go crazy. He's missing you more than ever.

🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹

The days keeps passing and Suguru is slowly learning to cope with the loss. He's still grieving and missing you terribly, but he's trying his hardest to get through it all. He spends time with friends and family, trying to surround himself with loved ones to help him through this difficult time. Though the emptiness he feels without you is still hard to ignore, he's slowly starting to move forward. He's learning to slowly accept the reality of your passing, but there's still a part of him that can't let go. He keeps your picture with him everywhere he goes. After a few days, Gojo finds Suguru seated alone in his room. He's looking at a picture of you and sobbing softly. Gojo steps inside the room, a worried expression on his face. He takes a seat next to Sugru and waits for him to calm down a bit. Once Gojo sees that Suguru is no longer crying as hard, he speaks up. "Hey."

Suguru's face is still tearstained, he immediately looks up at Gojo with puffy eyes. He looks away quickly, not wanting to talk yet.

"I know things have been really tough for you since..."

He pauses, unsure of how to proceed. He wanted to give Sugru time to collect himself. He notices how he's still holding a picture of you and the sorrow in his eyes makes his pain obvious. Gojo continues to try and cheer him up, his voice becoming gentle and sweet.

"I know you're still hurting and there's nothing I can say that can make it any better right now. But I'm here for you, if you ever need to talk or vent, I'm always here."

"I appreciate that, Gojo."

Suguru continues to look away, his expression is still soft and vulnerable. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, trying to get himself together. He wants to pretend everything is back to normal, but it's impossible when the person he cared about the most is gone.

"It still doesn't feel real..." "I know..."

Gojo leans closer, speaking in a soothing tone. His touch is light as he places his hand on Suguru's shoulder.

"It's going to take some time to get used to the new reality, you're going through a lot right now. I understand that. Give yourself time. This is the toughest thing you're going to have to overcome. Allow yourself to grieve, allow yourself to feel the pain you're experiencing. Trying to suppress your emotions now will only make things worse for you in the long run." "Yeah..."

Suguru nods, staring down at his feet. He seems to be listening intently to Gojo's words, but the pain he's experiencing is overwhelming him. Gojo's hand on his shoulder is comforting though, a bit of a relief from the intense sorrow he's feeling. He knows Gojo is right, he just needs some time. But it doesn't make it any easier for him. Sugru sighs softly and speaks gently.

"It's just so hard without..."

"I know. I can't even start to imagine how lonely it must feel. You've lost someone very close to you, that pain can't be described. Especially when it's so sudden and unexpected. It's only natural to miss and mourn for the person you've lost."

Gojo's hand lingers on his shoulder, his touch is gentle and his gaze is kind. He can see the sorrow and hopelessness in Sugru's eyes, it's making him worry for his friend. He wishes he could just magically make him better, but he knows it's not that simple.

"Mhm..."

Suguru is silent for a while, he's thinking about what Gojo just said. It does feel empty and lonely without you, it's hard to accept the reality of your absence. But he knows that he'll have to do it eventually, he has to learn to move on for his own sake. Suguru looks back up at Gojo, noticing the worry in his eyes. He gives him a weak smile as he speaks up again.

"I appreciate you coming here, Gojo."

"Of course, it's the least I could do."

Gojo's smile is gentle and reassuring, he wants to be there for Suguru at this difficult time. He remains next to your friend, giving him the support he needs in this time of need. Suguru is still trying to keep his composure, he's grateful for Gojo's presence. Gojo's presence alone is slightly lifting his spirits.

🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹🖤⃝🤍🫀🩹

Suguru and Gojo visit your grave together. They're both standing in front of it, silent and solemn as they stare at the flowers and other mementos laid down on your body. Suguru is quiet, his head lowered low as he looks at your grave. His expression is still sad and troubled, he's finding it hard to believe that you're really gone. There are still some tears in his eyes, but he's trying his best to suppress his sorrow. Gojo's eyes are on the grave as well, a slight sadness noticeable in his gaze.

Suguru's gaze is still fixated on the grave, his lips are pressed together as he stands there quietly. He takes a breath, trying to stay calm and collected, but the reality of your passing hits him hard. His eyes are still filled with sorrow, he couldn't believe that you're really gone. It's just so surreal... Suguru's hands are clasped together tightly, he's still trying to make sense of everything that happened.

Gojo's gaze is still on the grave as he remains there next to Suguru, trying to keep his thoughts to himself as he doesn't want to add to his friend's sorrow. The two of them stay silent for a while, neither speaking as they continue to stare at your grave. It's a somber and depressing scene, the silence is only interrupted by the occasional sound of the wind.

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