#and then he struggles through the spring but just when he’s starting to hit his stride at the giro he gets sick

[etapereine]

.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥KNOCK THAT KITTY CAT OUT!

old!manlogan x f!reader

summary ❥ everything and everyone seems to stress the old man out, what happens when he takes it all out on you? title inspired by sir mix a lot

warnings: dom logan, sub reader, fingering, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, raw sex, breeding kink, claws come out, spanking, etc.

note: round three! enjoy my hunni buns. m.list here. wc: 1.9k

the loud cling of his belt as it hit the floor, echoing throughout the room, making you gulp as you watched the older man saunter over towards you. following his belt, his button up fell to the floor, leaving him in his beater; showing off his salt and pepper chest hair.

“had a long fucking day, doll. a long fucking day. ‘m gonna need you to be a good girl and take it,” he looked at you, stress etched into his brows, letting you know he exactly how this was going to play out. “okay, daddy~” your voice sweet and sultry, making his cock throb in his black slacks.

logan motioned you over to him, watching you crawl your way over on the bed, kneeling right in front of him as you reached out and palmed his bulge. drool started to trickle out of the corner of your mouth, own arousal building as you anticipated what was to come next.

a low growl left his mouth, tangling his hand into your hair, gripping it and tugging your head back; making you stare into his dark irises. “pull it down,” he ordered and you didn’t hesitate to unzip his slacks and pull them down, revealing his fat bulge that sat behind his grey boxers. you moaned softly, tugging them down as well, his fat cock springing free.

his tip was coated in globs of sticky precum, which you happily licked up. he stiffened from your actions. your warm wet tongue teasing his sensitive head, making more of the translucent fluid pool out, before you finally wrapped your mouth around his tip.

the older man sighed, watching as you took him whole, slowly easing him to the back of your mouth; nearing your throat, before you pulled back. felt like you were teasing him, even though you weren’t. he was huge and it usually took a minute for you to relax and get used to his size, but the old man didn’t have any patience for it—he had an unbelievably hard day.

the grip on your hair became tighter as he pushed your head further down on his fat cock, making your cheeks puff up and your pretty little eyes well up with tears. he began to move his hips, pulling himself out of your warm mouth before pushing back in, repeating the process and causing strings of spit to trickle down.

“just like….that, doll. nice and sloppy.” he praised, making your cunt gush. they he was using your mouth like his own personal pocket pussy was so arousing, this was exactly what you needed. you were glad his job stressed him out, so he could fuck you like the slut that laid deep inside of you.

he wiggled his hips into your face, looking down into your eyes as you took him so well. you looked so pretty like this too. eyes big and watering with tears as he stuffed your mouth full of cock, fucking your throat just the way he liked it. the old man was losing himself. in some sadistic way, he got off at the thought of destroying you—using you to fulfill he desires. and you knew it too, that’s why you moved a free hand down to your clothed cunt and began to rub your little bundle of nerves.

the more he fucked your mouth to his liking, the closer he got to his orgasm and soon he was coating your mouth with thick ropes of cum. the growl he let out had you cumming along with him. you struggled to swallow his seed, overtaken by the slight intensity of your orgasm—earning a harsh tug on your hair. “swallow,” he commanded and you did as you were told, earning a ‘good girl’ from him.

logan then told you to get in his favorite position, ass up—face down. your peach shaped ass sat up high in the air, allowing him to see how much slick that started to see through your red laced panties. he sucked his teeth and shook his head, pulling the thin fabric to the side; your drooling cunt glistening just for him.

a sigh escaped your mouth when your walls stretched to make room for his cock. despite him fucking you almost everyday, you remained tight as ever and he loved that. when he was finally inside of you, he gripped your hips and pushed his own forward, practically pressing into your cervix; which made you back up.

“told me you were gonna take it,” he scolded and brought you back onto his dick. you whimpered and clenched the silk sheets beneath you, bracing yourself for what’s to come. yet, nothing could prepare you for his ruthless attack on your cunt.

the way he showed you no mercy as he drilled your cunt, had your mind spinning and your eyes fluttering to the back of your head. it was mind boggling to see this older man have this much stamina, yet everything about it felt so good. his balls meeting your clit, smacking it each time to the lewd squelching of your cunt—which made both of your sexes throb.

logan’s pace quickened and he was pounding into you even harder before, making you bite down into the sheets—walls squeezing him as he moved. you could feel your stomach get tighter, wach time his cock rubbed against your spot; earning a series of muffled moans leaving your lips. you were gonna cum so hard and he knew it too.

a harsh smack met your plump ass, the stinging sensation only aroused you and had you wanting more. “harder! please..~”

he grunted in response and repeated his actions, this time harder than the last; making you yelp out, coming undone on his dick. specks of white blurred your vision as you were overtaken by the intensity of your own orgasm, the sheets drenched from your arousal.

but, he didn’t stop there. still fucking you through the mattress—your mind clouded by the second with nothing but thoughts of his delicious dick. “daddy….—‘s too much, please~” your pleas went on deaf ears because he kept stuffing you with his cock, the fat of your ass echoed loudly throughout the room.

your boyfriend let out a loud grunt, before he painted your gummy walls a shade of white. your third orgasm for the night followed right after, your body shook and trembled; this orgasm just as intense as the last. and when he pulled out of you, the warmth of his seed made you feel all tingly and satisfied, which made you glad that he was finished.

until he wasn’t.

—

you should’ve know he wasn’t going to let up on you, especially after the kind of day he had. logan needed to destress and there was no better way to than have your plushy walls wrap around him as he fucked everything away.

you were currently on your back, with him behind you, his thick digits plunging in and out of your wetness; bringing you closer to your orgasm only for him to remove his fingers each time—edging the hell out of you.

whines left your mouth and your eyes brimmed with tears, you needed to let go badly. you tried grinding against his palm, hoping that he would finally let you cum, only to earn a smack towards your cunt—which made you cry out. you were frustrated and he knew that. he was getting off watching you squirm, trying to ease some of the tension he caused you; only for him to pull away each time.

“baby please! please let me cum. please,” oh that nearly made him cum right in his spot. hearing you sob and your voice cracking while you begged for it, broke him, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

his fingers were drenched with your sappy essence, coating them each time he fingered your aching hole. sweet sultry mewls left your mouth and meshed beautifully with the sounds of your pussy; which made the older man pump his fingers faster. you gripped his wrist and bucked your hips upwards as you released the tension that was thick in your stomach.

streams of clear liquid splashed out from your cunt, hitting his palm and your bed—staining it some more. “that’s it. that’s my pretty girl, make a mess for me.”

he continued to pump his fingers faster inside of you, making you squirt even more. and when he finally pulled away, slurping up the remenants of your juices, before leaning down to finally kiss you. the taste of you against his tongue made your eyes flutter and your gushy cunt throbbed. you were so dizzy from the kiss and when he pulled away it was like you were brought back to reality.

logan moved from his spot and laid on the opposite side of you, his hands behind his head while his dick stood tall; shocking you.

did this man take a fucking viagra or something?

he pulled you on top of him, his unbelievably hard cock laid smack on your lower belly; twitching with desire. you gulped and looked down at him; those hazel eyes unbelievably darkened with lust.

“baby….i don’t—I can’t cum anymore, please.”

“just one more. just need one more from my pretty girl. ‘m gonna do all the work, just need you to take it.”

and he kept his word, jackhammering the hell out of you; your nails digging into his skin from the brute force. he groaned in pain and pleasure, his wounds slowly healing while he continued to fuck you stupid. it seems that he was gonna break your cunt while pulling another orgasm from you.

logan could feel you clenching and unclenching around him and he pushed your back down, connecting your mouth with his. “go ahead and cum for me, doll. need to see you cum for me.” he pulled away and you whined, your vision hazy as your climax took over you. your ass clapping with each powerful thrust as he continued to give you dick.

the tighter you clung to his cock, the quicker his own orgasm came down on him and soon he was losing it. he let out the loudest growl ever, his claws unsheathing and sinking deep into the mattress; while he pumped your cunt full of his cum.

and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he pulled out and his claws retracted back into his skin, before you slid off of his sweaty body. your body shook and writhed as you still felt how intense your orgasm was—ropes of his cum starting to pool out of your, until he stopped it with his palm.

“need you to keep it inside. want you all round and plump with my kid inside,” he leaned over and kissed your tear stained cheek—eyes fluttering with sleepiness.

“don’t….don’t go to work tomorrow. can’t take it, ‘m gonna be sore for days.” he chuckled at your remark before pulling the covers over the both of you, cuddling up against your weak body.

it would be a while before you could take him again like this, but it was all worth it.

[slytherinshua]

WITHOUT WORDS

genre. fluff. maybe a bit suggestive?? warnings. making out. they're so in love it's disgusting(ly cute). half proofread. pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. no. a/n. i don't think i've watched any enhypen content since like spring 2022... but i still wrote this just to feed @hursheys brainrot so she better thank me smh.

Perhaps the only time where you could admire your boyfriend without getting embarrassingly hot in the face was when he was asleep. You weren’t sure how it was possible for someone to be so handsome, but Sunghoon surpassed perfection in many areas, so you had grown to accept it. The first morning light had just started to seep through the window, shining softly over Sunghoon’s face.

And, god, he just looked so pretty. His hair fell over his forehead, eyelids closed, lips slightly parted letting soft breaths out. You were practically hypnotised by him. Usually you weren’t so utterly down bad for him (well, no, you were), but you simply couldn’t take your eyes off of him this morning. 

You silently brushed his hair away from his face, your touch light and gentle so as to not disturb him. The light from the window hit his now exposed forehead and eyebrows, warming up his cool toned skin and taking your breath away. You would never not be in love with him.

Your eyes shifted to his perfect nose, and the little brown mole that dotted the side of his nose bridge. You gave in to the immediate urge to press a gentle kiss to it, despite knowing that the action would probably wake him up. He was bound to wake up sooner or later from the light anyway, and you knew he always liked waking up to your kisses.

Your hand cupped his cheek, a finger softly tracing his jawline and then eyebrow, as if you were memorising his every feature. When you lifted your hand, intent on bringing it back to rest by your side, your wrist was caught midway by Sunghoon’s fingers. Although his eyes were still closed, he guided your hand back to the side of his face, a silent plea for you to continue your gentle touch. 

Instead of opening his eyes, his lip twitched, threatening to lift up into a smile. He tried to suppress it, but he too was struggling with the butterflies that your touch gave him. When it was just you two, he felt like he was floating, heart completely caught in your hold. Just when he thought he was the happiest he ever could be, you proved him wrong.

He gave in, letting the breathless laugh that was fighting to emerge, out, gracing your ears with the sound. When he opened his eyes, he was met with his favourite sight, one that he was sure he would never get tired of. Sunghoon was well aware that he was debilitatingly in love with you, but he faced the feeling with pride. He allowed you to invade his every thought, direct his every decision, and dwell at the very centre of his universe. It was where you belonged. 

There were no words needed between you two. All sentiments were delivered through your eyes, as you both could read each other like it was second nature.

Sunghoon’s ebony eyes sparkled with many messages, the most obvious of which was I love you. After years of dating him, that was one you could never miss. There was rarely a time where you didn’t see it reflected in his irises. It had become a constant for Sunghoon. Loving you was simply a part of his identity. He wasn’t himself without the love that you brought out of him. 

Your fingers danced on his cheek again, committing the feeling of his smooth skin to memory. He had a busy day ahead of him, and you knew you wouldn’t be seeing his face again until the middle of the night, so you took your time, soaking him in for as long as you could. Sunghoon was attentive to this as well, but had something else on his mind regarding how to spend the time he had left with you. He caught your wrist, this time using it to bring you closer to him, your nose almost brushing against his.

“Let me kiss you.” Came his soft request, his voice deep and slightly raspy from sleep. You smiled, meeting his lips immediately. There would never be a time when you would refuse his wish to kiss you. You sighed when he kissed you back, the warmth of his love reaching you from his lips.

You bit his bottom lip gently, making him gasp. His lips parted just enough to allow your tongue past them, the movement causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. His hands slipped to your waist under the covers, circling his thumb over your skin under your pyjama shirt (which just so happened to be one of his old t-shirts). 

Sunghoon knew he would have to break away from you sooner than he wished in order to allow time to get ready for the day. This only urged him to kiss you deeper, drowning in the feeling of you. His tongue circled yours, the dance of lip and tongue feeling as natural as breathing. He knew exactly how you liked to be kissed, years of perfecting his skills ever clearer to you as he pulled you closer.

He wished he could kiss you for eternity. He wished he didn’t have to leave you or the bed. He wished he could call the day off and stay— stay with you for the rest of his life. He was sure he would do that, but not in the way he currently wanted to right now. His work was far too important to miss, as he had several important shoots to attend. He had to cut his losses, no matter how hard it was to leave you for the entire day.

So, he pulled away, although it broke his heart to do it. You let out a quiet whine, knowing that he had to leave soon and dreading it as much as he did. He soothed you with a few quick kisses to your cheek and nose, hand squeezing your hip before he sat up, eyes lingering on your figure under the covers.

He checked the time, panicking slightly when he realized that he may have kissed you for a minute or two longer than he should have. He’d have to cut his shower short. He grabbed the clothes he had picked out the night before and rushed to the bathroom, giving you a quick smile as he closed the door. You heard the shower run for no longer than 3 minutes, and the hurried movements of him brushing his teeth and changing. 

He emerged exactly 6 minutes later, grabbing his bag and blowing you a kiss before he left. You sighed, eyes focused on a random spot on the ceiling. The taste of Sunghoon’s lips lingered on yours, making you smile slightly. You already missed him, and it hadn’t been a minute since he left. You were so down bad for him.

You rolled over to his side of the bed, squishing your face into his pillow (which smelled just like him) and falling back asleep.

↳ enhypen taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @minholing,, @delcakoo,,

@kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,,

@amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,,

@bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,,

@dimplewonie,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz

[valsverse]

• just thinking about percy jackson as your summer bf. fumbling with sunscreen, smearing it on each other’s noses, missing spots on purpose. sticky cuddles under the blanket, even though the air is way too hot for any kind of physical contact. popsicle juice dribbling down your chin, and him kissing it away, his lips sweet and a little too eager. racing into the ocean, him pretending to trip just to make you laugh. stealing sips of each other’s lemonade, but only when you think he’s not looking. screaming on the rollercoaster while he pretends to be fearless, though you catch his knuckles white around the bar. arguing over the best ice cream flavor—he insists on mint chocolate chip, but you know it’s cookies and cream. beach volleyball that always ends with him picking you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing too hard to keep score. running barefoot on the hot pavement, hopping between patches of grass. falling asleep in a hammock, legs tangled, with the smell of saltwater still clinging to your skin, and waking up to sunburned shoulders and his lazy grin. • or how fall coded leo valdez is. going to haunted houses together, hiding your face in his shoulder every time you get freaked, while he grins and teases you, but never lets go. sharing one scarf because he insists he’s not cold, but somehow the scarf always ends up wrapped around you both. carving pumpkins together, where he makes his a goofy, over-engineered contraption while yours is just happy and crooked. attempting to watch Saw for halloween, but halfway through, he grabs the remote, and suddenly It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! is on. apple cider kisses, warm and sweet, his lips tasting like cinnamon. drowning tea with lethal douses of nutmeg because he swears it makes everything better, and it does. walking through piles of fallen leaves, and just when you’re admiring the colors, he kicks a bunch of them at you, laughing as you chase him down the path. ending the night with bonfires, where he messes with the flames, making them flicker in shapes just to make you laugh. • and winters with luke castellan, him cupping your face in his hands, palms warm and soft, trying to chase away the chill from your cheeks, always grumbling about how cold you are, but never pulling away. sharing caramel apples, and him struggling to take a bite while making a mess, albeit with a small grin. snowball fights that start with playful teasing and end with him catching you in his arms, both of you laughing and brushing off snow. walking through the frosty streets, his arm around your shoulders, making sure you’re never too cold. stopping by a food cart for hot chocolate, where he burns his tongue but pretends he's fine, playing it off with a casual shrug while you laugh. driving through the city, holiday music low in the background, his eyes flickering between the lights and your smile; and his peppermint scent clinging to your sweater, lingering long after he’s gone. • while jason grace is undeniably a spring bf. feeding each other freshly picked strawberries, sweet and sun-warmed, his smile soft as he knows just how to choose the best ones. stopping by the convenience store for a snack run, where he knows your favorites by heart, grabbing them without a second thought. stopping by a local café for iced coffee, his fingers brushing yours as he hands you your drink.

playful water fights by the fountain, where he always ends up drenched, his hair sticking to his forehead, but he’s still grinning, water dripping everywhere as you both laugh at the chaos. visiting farmers' markets together, where he picks out the freshest fruits and insists on trying every sample with you. sharing ice cream cones that melt faster than you can eat them, him sneaking bites from yours with a playful smirk, wiping away a stray drip with the back of his hand before it hits the ground.

©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[youleftmenochoicebut]

GOLD RUSH — regulus black x reader.

SUMMARY. — your secret relationship with regulus isn’t so secret anymore.

PAIRING. — regulus black x fem!pureblood!reader

WARNINGS. — reader has a 1st year brother; this is shitty;

A/N. — im desperately trying to write something coherent for reggie and it’s not working

“if you stare at that poor girl for a little while longer i’m pretty sure her head’s gonna set on fire.” Barty’s voice is quiet as he leans in closer to your ear, and you tilt up your head at him, quickly hitting his shoulder. you’re standing in front of the potions classroom, and out of your friend group it’s only the two of you - Evan back in his dorm claiming to be sick, Dorcas not every making any excuses as to why she didn’t show up, Pandora being a ravenclaw, and Regulus… well, Regulus.

Regulus is standing in the darkest corner of the hallway, having a conversation with some hufflepuff (a good friend of his who you have known of for a while) who’s batting her eyelashes up at him, and you wonder if he’s truly that oblivious to notice or just chooses to ignore it. either way you shrug, turning to Barty with a grimace on your face that’s supposed to be a smile.

“damn, babe, with that look on your face you might just scare away potential suitors.” he tugs at your braid, swiftly making it fall apart, and your frown deepens.

“not in the mood, Barty.” you roll your eyes with a scoff, leaning back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. your parents have been bugging you about finding a suitable future husband to marry after you graduate ever since this school year started, and as it all nears spring you’re only growing more restless. of course they don’t know about your relationship with Regulus. sure, they would be over the moon at the news, the younger Black brother being… hot shit amongst the mentally challenged elders, as Evan described it once. which is exactly why you want to keep it under the wraps for as long as you can.

it’s been going pretty well you’d say, both of you not having much problem with acting casual, but lately you’ve been struggling with that. you’re not jealous, Merlin forbid, you’re just… well, maybe you are the tiniest bit jealous. in all honesty, who wouldn’t be? it’s Regulus Black.

you enter the classroom hand in hand with Barty once the clock strikes nine, splitting with him when you make your way to your desk. during this class you actually share your space with Regulus, and so you give him a small smile when he sits down beside you.

the whole day passes in a blur for you, as it usually does, and soon enough you’re in your favorite place of all Hogwarts. you’re sitting on a huge plush couch in the room of requirement, your head resting on your boyfriend’s lap as he runs his slender fingers through your hair. both of you dressed in some comfortable clothes instead of the everyday robes, your wands laying down on the wooden table in front of the sofa.

“i haven’t written back to my mother yet.” you murmur after a moment, eyes set on Regulus’ face, trying to catch every detail of it.

his skin is pale, sheer thin, and if you believed in them you could’ve said he’s a ghost. his lips are always so plump looking, now outstretched in a smile, his gray irises staring right back at you with that loving shimmer to them.

“have Alistair?” he asks, your younger brother’s name leaving his mouth so quiet it’s practically a whisper, and he raises his eyebrows. you shrug, and a moment later you shake your head.

“i’m not sure. i think so.” you reply, internally groaning at the mere thought of your sibling, and you push yourself up on your elbows then fully sit up, reaching out for one of the mugs standing on the coffee table. they’re both filled with hot chocolate, and you take the pink one into your hand, sipping on it slowly. “little bugger is snitching on me, i try to avoid him.”

you watch him chuckle and reach over for his mug, then the two of you lean back against the couch. you can feel yourself sinking into the cushions, and a delighted sigh escapes you, before you catch Regulus’ amused expression and purse your lips together quickly.

“i just can’t wait for all of this to end, so we could move away.” you mumble, setting your cup back down, and he nods. he leans in closer, his hands resting on either sides of your middle, and for a beat he only looks at you. then suddenly his smile widens, and he kisses the top of your nose.

“chocolate on your nose.” he whispers playfully, his lips brushing innocently against your cheek next, then your jawline, your chin, slowly trailing down to set on your neck for a longer while. “just three more months, ma chérie. and we’ll leave it all behind.”

his breath is hot against your skin despite the chilliness of his hands that wrap around your waist, helping you into a laying down position. his caress is gentle, soft, just so so loving.

“a cozy cottage somewhere in a quiet village. maybe wales?” you breathe out, your hands coming up to first rest on his shoulders, but you quickly move them up and tangle them into his dark curls.

“mhm, like we planned.” he nods, making you yelp in surprise as he suddenly sucks on your pulse point, and you swear you can feel him smirk against the column of your throat. “a whole lot of protective spells to keep us safe and hidden from everyone. and then maybe we can focus on what’s good. plant a tree and have a dozen of children.”

“well, i don’t know who’s gonna give you a dozen of children, cause it’s for sure not me.” you scoff, a chuckle escaping your lips as you pull him back from you, and he takes the opportunity to give you a kiss. it quick and sweet, and his hands start to wander under your shirt, ghosting over the outline of your bra teasingly.

you leave the room of requirement in the middle of the night, fingers intertwined, and your guard let down. your clothes are wrinkled up, hair messy and tousled, and there’s already a slight limp to your walk. you’re both sure no one’s going to see you, i mean come on, it’s 2am. but the moment you step a foot outside, and the magic door disappears behind you, you hear a victorious laugh.

your brother is standing right there, just a few strides away from you, grinning from ear to ear. you immediately groan, gaze locking with Regulus’ for a moment before you step forward.

“i swear to Merlin, Alistair, if you tell anyone about this…” you start menacingly, hand clasping on the boy’s shirt collar, but it gives you an opposite result of what you’ve hoped for.

“sod off, Y/N! i’m writing about this to mother right when i get back to my dorm!”

[thedevilrisen]

Sunsets & Daisies

Luke Hughes x Reader Word Count: 2.3k Description: Luke Hughes and his fiancée always have an annual spring photo shoot, this year for their fourth anniversary Luke gets some welcome news.

Every year, when September hits Luke and Y/N venture to some decadently and much fought over location for their annual photo shoot. What once started with the two cramming into a Photo Booth, drunk on Luke’s birthday became somewhat of their tradition.

This year Y/N had practically begged Luke to relinquish all control he had and give it to her, given as of recently a huge surprise - a future altering surprise, was now at play. It had been almost nine months since Luke proposed and with the wedding two days away the couple thought this would be the perfect time to have the shoot before the season starts.

The location was about a forty-five out of Michigan, and was scheduled for the late afternoon in an attempt to achieve some sunset lit pictures. Luke’s sling added to the difficulty of getting ready, being sure not to accidentally aggravate his shoulder while also trying to get the polo shirt on was a massive task.

"You're too tall Lukey, can you bend down a sec?" you murmured, making sure to gently thread the bunched fabric over his injured shoulder first. The swollen, bruised skin making you grimace as Luke hissed through his teeth when you rotated his arm to allow the other one to slip through. "Sorry bub."

"It's alright." Luke whispered, "You're doing your best and their isn't much else we can do for the pain."

"You can have another does of pain killers when we get there, I'll put them in my purse for you to take before we get there.” The girl spoke as she put said medicine in her purse, among other essentials as well as today’s surprise. While she was allowed the liberty of preparing the surprise with the photographer by graciously offering to organise this year's photo shoot, claiming that Luke already does to much. However if Luke told you the story, it would have been told so dramatically the person listening would have assumed you held him at gunpoint. Which was completely untrue. You had used a hot spatula.

"Sounds, good." Luke spoke, grabbing a cap, using it to brush his hair back so it sat perfectly. You could see the one handed struggle he was having as you watched his scrunched up face in the mirror.

With a heavy sigh you crossed your arms, staring at him in the mirror, "Luke, if you think for a second you are wearing that cap during the shoot you have a lot more concerning things to worry about rather then your shoulder."

“I wouldn’t dare, it’s just till we get there so my hair doesn’t get super frizzy.” Luke stated, giving a pointed look as he turned back around and started to walk over to where you sat at the vanity, brushing the last bits of makeup across your face with the brush before turning the light switch and watching the bulbs dim till the room was bathed in darkness.

Exiting down the hallway and plucking the seperate car, house and gate keys off of their designated wall hooks in the entry way, playing them into your purse knowing because of Luke’s arm, even though he would insist on driving you will have to. Walking into the kitchen, hand brushing past the marble countertop, fingers drifting over the bunch of bananas sitting on the stone as you contemplated what you wanted to eat as well as a snack to take.

Luke trotted down the stairs quickly, heavy footsteps sounding out, softened by carpet but still loud enough to contemplate whether or not an elephant was storming throughout your house. “Should I wear my white sneakers? Or my blue ones?”

“I’d wear the blue.. well they are navy actually. There might be red dirt there and it will be easier to get it out of the blue rather than the white.” you said with an analytical tone, thinking best about the circumstances. “Besides, they will work well with your shirt.”

You heard Luke shuffle off down the hallway to the mud room, where you had all the shoes stowed away in little cubby cubes under the coat rack.

“Can you grab my black ankle boots please?” you requested as you opened the fridge, still in search for snacks you knew you were going to want inevitably. It was remarkable how dense men were sometimes, Luke, who knows you inside and out hasn’t even put a thought as to why you may be eating more or why you wanted one food constantly. Almost like you were craving, something.

“The ones with the little chain?” Luke called back out, you could hear him pulling the weaved baskets in and out.

“No! The ones with the little ribbing down the side of the legs?” You spoke, albeit louder so it carried down the hall into the room Luke was in.

“So the ones with the chain!” Luke’s tone matched yours, his with filtered confusion. He was holding said boots, they were black with a tan, woody coloured block on the heel of them, although it added little height and across the ribbed stitching on the side of the boots was a dainty little gold chain.

From where you were standing, brow creased as you looked into the fridge, eyes darting from the bread to make some toast, to the eggs which you could quickly scramble and maybe put on the toast. Then your eyes locked with the packet of dark chocolate covered almonds. Now they would be good.

“Y/N!” Luke cried, still looking at the boots as he waited for an answer. Looking at the wall with a expression of concern and disbelief.

“They aren’t the same boot Luke! They are different bo-“ Y/N cut herself off as Luke wandered into the kitchen, boots in hand. “Oh. But they are two different boots! I swear they are!”

Slamming the fridge door shut, discarding the loaf of raisin toast and butter container and jar of strawberry jam on to bench, crouching and letting the items fall from your arms onto the bench with a clink from the glass jar. You rounded the counter, using your hand to prevent you from bumping your hip bone on the stone.

Luke watched as you damn near jogged, more of a hop, skip and jump down the hall towards the mud room. It was cute, watching your light anger in being wrong show through your actions. Listening to the manic shuffling of the woven crates as you pulled them out of each of their cubby shelves only to see they weren’t the pair of shoes you thought existed, but clearly didn’t. When you came stomping back down the hall with a heavy pout and furrowed brow, giving the boots which matched the description you gave with disdain.

“You were right.” Your tone was short and sad.

“Yeah.. is that upsetting you?” Luke asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“It is. It shouldn’t but it is.” You spoke in an incredulous tone. Moving back over to the bench, fingers toying with the plastic covering the bread loaf. You felt as if you wanted to yell, cry and scream all at the same time. Darn mood swings.

Luke just laughed, a rich hearty sound that made your knees wobble as you screwed open the jam jar, placing the raisin toast into the toaster, waiting and ruffling through different packets of chips in the snack drawer picking out two and throwing them in Luke’s direction.

“What flavours do you want?” You asked, still swatting your way through the chip drawer.

“I’m not going to be hungry. I ate before remember?” Luke looked up from his phone.

“Okay the-“ you cut yourself off as the toaster popped up, bringing the raisin toast with it. You grabbed the toast out, flinging it onto the bench after realising it was too hot to just hold onto.

Smearing the butter and jam onto the slices of toast, shoving one into your mouth holding it in your teeth as you turned and placed the bread and condiments back into the fridge. After taking a solid, hearty bite of the toast you placed it back onto the bench, not minding the crumbs that dropped off it. You grabbed the boots from where they sat next to the kitchen island counter and slipped your feet into them, the black tights you were wearing to battle the brisk september air aiding in your pursuit.

"Are you ready to go?" Luke looked up as you asked him this, stretching his none injured arm out, then slotting his phone into his back pocket.

"Whenever you are!" He replied enthusiastically, standing up and holding his hand out for you. He watched as you grabbed your purse, still holding your piece of toast trying not to let the jam dribble down your hand. Luke held the front door open as you stepped out and followed the path to where the car was parked in the driveway. You pressed down on the key fob to unlock the door so you could slide into the driver seat while Luke situated himself in the passenger seat, awkwardly reach across his body to pull the seat belt over and click it into place.

Mirroring Luke, albeit with more ease you strapped yourself in before pulling backwards out of the driveway, checking both ways for traffic. Heading to the stop sign at the end of the street, pulling away from the suburban area and driving away from the city after taking an entry onto the highway to go south. Luke had taken care of the music, connecting his phone to the car via aux cord and playing the majority of his songs, with your input for a song here and there.

"Play that Garth Brooks one.. the country one Jack really likes." you spoke, voice raised slightly to project over the song that was currently playing.

"Why would I play that?" Luke questioned back, his face skeptical.

"Because Callin' Baton Rouge is a fantastic song. Now play it." you responded, looking in the rearview mirror, checking the lanes next to you before merge into the exit turning lane, heading down a rural street where the sides of the road was lined with fences holding cattle in and big tall trees acting as a windbreak.

Even though he had absolutely no idea where the final destination was Luke was staring to catch on that it might have something to do with a field, something very nature-y. He was right, or by the fact that you pulled up next to a white toyota camry near the entrance gate to a field which was bordered with a small forest. Following you and getting out of the car, he watched as you ambled over, shook the young woman's hand.

"Luke, this is Kelly. She will be doing our photos this year." Y/N introduced the photographer, it was obvious that she wasn't a random due to the high quality canon camera she was cradling in one arm.

"Pleasure to meet you." Luke exchanged pleasantries with the woman before the little group of three set off into the field, heading towards the treeline. There was a dirt track that Luke could hear led down toward a creek, he could see why you had told him not to wear his good white shoes, there was a certain chance his shoes would be getting a little dirty.

With all credit to you, he had to admit that the spot was absolutely stunning and he couldn't imagine a more perfect place for the photos. Particularly when the dense foliage thins out and he can see the beautiful architecture of some kind of ruined building. Nature had taken over, vines crawling all up the elegant arches which were bathed in late afternoon sun.

"This is beautiful darlin'" Luke murmured in your ear as he looked up from where he was perched on a rock, this was just one of the many positions and places Kelly had you too stand, sit, hug, kiss, smile or laugh for the photos. He already seemed elated at the fact the photoshoot was happening, he hadn't even gotten the news that was turning your stomach inside out with nerves. Or was it something else?

"Okay, Luke, can you turn and face the creek? I need Y/N behind you, and then you are going to turn around." Kelly asked, setting up for the final shot of the big moment. She winked at you as you pulled the little reel of photos out of your purse. Taking a deep calming breath as you stood behind him, holding the photos that represented your future with Luke, you hands were shaking but you stood. "Okay Luke. Turn around for me."

As Luke did you met his briefly before they locked onto the ultrasound photos you held for him to see. His beaming smile dropped into a gape as he looked at the photos dumbfounded, but it quickly returned as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words he so desperately wanted to say. Instead he scooped you into his arms, spinning you around as the camera clicked. Capturing this moment forever, allowing you to reflect on it and show it to family and friends.

"Your- Your seriously." Luke stammered, placing you down, cradling the side of your head as well as the side of your stomach.

"Yeah.. I am." you smiled back, matching his grin with one just as bright.

He pulled away turning away and pumping the air before shouting into the forest clearing. "I'm going to be a dad!"

Yes you are Luke Hughes, a damn great one.

[poppadom0912]

Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.  

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.  

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.  

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.  

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.  

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.  

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.  

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.  

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.  

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

No Nut November - Kirk

A/n: I have decided I'm focusing on unfinished series' first and I will deal with requests later because holy fuck I have a lot and I am ✨overwhelmed✨ so bear with me 🥹

Warnings: Smut, semipublic sex?, oral (m receiving), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Intro

It was barely a week into you staying with Metallica and the guys were all struggling. Kirk was having an especially hard time, partially because you were going after him first.

Kirk was the youngest, the calmest... honestly, he just seemed like an easy target.

He never acted on his thoughts, not that you knew of anyway, but you could see the cracks in his jokes, how he rarely made eye contact with you, left his eyes on you a second or two longer than he should've.

You were making yourself a little midnight snack in the dark, hoping that would keep people asleep since you hadn't felt like dressing up or anything. Also, your midnight snack was utterly atrocious, as is the way with the best of them, and you didn't need people coming in on that.

However, the light flicked on and you turned to see Kirk staring at you wide eyed. Shorts that weren't quite long enough and no shirt, just your bra because it was fucking hot this time of year.

"Hi." You said simply, just to break the awkward silence. Kirk's attention snapped up to your eyes and he smiled at you, crooked teeth and all.

"Hi." He replied, trying to keep his tone normal. "What are you doing?" He asked, coming closer to you.

"Making a snack." You said, continuing to work on your food.

"In the dark?" You chewed your cheek before shrugging.

"Dark doesn't scare me." You said, then you thought for a moment. "Does it scare you?"

"What?" He asked, giving you a look like he was more scared you'd genuinely think that of him. "No, of course not, why would I be scared of the dark?"

You shrugged and sucked your teeth. "I don't know, you watch a lot of horror movies, you might've thought I was some kind of demon."

"Oh, totally." He said with a soft laughter. "You know, I thought you were actually Freddie Kreuger out to get me."

"Right, right, so you came to get me first?" You asked, brow raised at him.

Kirk's mouth opened to say something but he cut himself off. "What the hell are you making?" He asked, changing the subject.

You explained your midnight snack of choice, by that time Kirk got hungry and since you were talking about horror movies he suggested you watched one with him right then. Perfect conditions, middle of the night, everyone sleeping, and you had snacks. Really, there wasn't much too it.

He set up a movie while you got to work on popcorn.

When you came over to him he was all set up on the couch with a blanket and everything. There was tons of space, the whole rest of the couch and other chairs, hell, you could've sat on the floor if you wanted. But you had a plan, and you were going to stick to it.

You sat right beside Kirk, curling up to him. Hesitantly, he returned your little act of affection and held you to his side, squeezing you gently whenever something even remotely scary happened.

You weren't too focused on the movie, you were more interested in what you could get kirk to do. You started rubbing your hand up and down his thigh, listening to his breath hitching and catching his small glimpses down to you.

He didn't stop you from pushing his shorts down and palming his hard-on through his boxers. Soft moans left him, lips parted and eyes looking dazed at the feeling.

You pushed the blanket off of the both of you and slipped off of the couch and onto your knees in front of him. Kirk looked around frantically. "We-we can't. What if-" He was cut off by a moan, which he covered by slapping a hand over his mouth.

You were pulling his shorts and boxers down, his cock springing free and hitting his abdomen, already red and leaky with pre-cum. "Don't worry," you said, trailing a finger up his length, "no one's coming down. The lights are off, they won't even notice us."

"What about the movie?" He mumbled. You glanced over you shoulder at the movie still playing.

"Then they'll notice you." You said with a shrug. He didn't look too convinced but he definitely relaxed when you took him into your mouth. He didn't care of someone came and saw you, he barely cared enough to cover his mouth as your head bobbed up and down on him, slurping, sucking and licking on him.

He spread his legs further and his hand went to the back of your head, guiding you on him, not that you needed it. His hips bucked up, pushing him deeper into your throat.

You felt him pulsing, veins on your tongue, tip hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes watered and drool dripped out the corners of your mouth. You kept your eyes on him, watching him carefully and taking mental snapshots of his expressions.

You heard noises coming from upstairs, Kirk did as well. "Stop, we have to-to stop." He said, voice breathless. Despite his words he kept pushing you back down, keeping himself in you. "Someone's gonna- fuck-!" He squeaked, holding a hand over his mouth tighter.

His body seemed to flare up, weakly trying to push you away while simultaneously holding you in place, hot cum spurting down your throat.

You pulled the blanket over you and Kirk pulled a few pillows over in a feeble attempt to cover you before the lights flicked on showed Lars standing by the stairs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Fuck are you doing?" He grumbled, accent painfully strong with sleep.

"Watching the, uh..." Kirk stammered, pointing to the TV which still had the horror movie going.

Lars stared at him, there was no way he didn't notice the strange lump on Kirk's lap but he didn't bring it up and just nodded. "Go to sleep, weirdo." He grumbled, turning the lights back off and heading back upstairs.

You waited to here the door to Lars's room close before pushing the blanket off of you once more, finally pulling away from Kirk and wiping your mouth.

You stood and pushed your shorts and soaked panties down before sitting next to kirk. "My turn~" You said, grinning widely. How could he say no?

[hypewinter]

Bruce sighed. He was in over his head. Wayyyy over his head. Honestly he only had himself to blame. Really what was he thinking? He'd taken in one child and suddenly thought he was an expert in traumatized youths? He'd been overconfident and rash and now Danny was suffering for it and would probably hate him forever now and-

"I can hear you fidgeting through the door!" Came a voice that broke Bruce out of his spiral. There was a shuffle before the heavy wooden door swung open. A boy with floppy black hair and ice blue eyes stared up at him.

"You could've just knocked ya know?" Danny said.

Bruce fidgeted a little more, embarrassed that he'd been caught. "Bu- I thought you were-"

"Still mad at you?" Danny interrupted. "Yeah, I can tell by your face. You didn't even bother to wipe off your eyeshadow."

It was true. Bruce had rushed through patrol and gotten back home as quickly as possible. He'd barely shed his armor as he practically tripped over himself trying to get up to Danny's room. He had come up with and memorized the perfect apology to smooth things over between the two of them and had been dying to get it out before he messed anything else up. But now all the words he'd rehearsed left him.

"Wait. You're not angry?"

Danny leveled him with a blank stare as he leaned on the door frame. "Oh I'm always angry. Just not at you. At least not right now."

Upon seeing Bruce struggle to form words, Danny continued. "You were right," he said. "I shouldn't have beat up Dylan and his little minions. I knew they were intentionally trying to goad me into hitting them and I did it anyway. I-I'm sorry."

For the first time since their conversation began, Danny looked away. His look of mild annoyance was now replaced with one of shame.

"I just- they were making fun of my family. Saying stuff like 'they were small town trash and no one would miss them'. And that comment just set me off." Tears were now springing to Danny's eyes as anger took over his features.

Danny's hands balled into fists as he continued. "I couldn't just let that go. Especially not when they're the ones that are trash. They're so bothered by a 'commoner' wearing the same uniform as them that they feel the need to persistently bully me even when I have nothing to do with them. We don't share any classes, I eat lunch alone, I'm not in any clubs or extracurriculars and if I had a choice I wouldn't even be going to that damn school to begin with!"

Tears were freely streaming down Danny's cheeks as he stopped to catch his breath. His whole body was shuddering with fury. Bruce carefully put a hand on the boy's shoulder, ready to back off if Danny pulled away but he leaned in instead. Given the go ahead, Bruce carefully pulled Danny into a hug, slowly patting his back.

It took a while before either of them spoke. "I know what they said was out of line," Bruce started. "And trust me, they'll definitely receive punishment. But-"

"I know, I know," Danny murmured, turning his face to the side while still clutching onto Bruce's shirt. "Sending 5 boys to the hospital with my training is still bad."

After staying like that for a while, Danny finally looked up at Bruce. "Am I gonna be expelled?" he asked.

Bruce gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise."

Danny finally pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeve and returned Bruce's smile with a toothy one of his own. "You're gonna bribe them or something aren't you? There's gonna be a conveniently placed donation or something. You're just like those rich pricks," he teased.

"Heyyyy! How come Danny gets to cuss?" came a small voice from beyond the shadows of Danny's room. Soon enough, Dick made himself seen, Zitka cradled in his arms as he sleepily stolled forth.

"He's not," Bruce answered quickly. They had just convinced Dick to use more "colorful" insults as opposed to outright cursing and Bruce for one was not willing to face Alfred's wrath if he reverted back. A side glance at Danny told him the exact same thought was running through the boy's mind too. Leave it to Alfred to put the fear of God into two vigilantes who beat up criminals every night.

Dick yawned as he reached out for Bruce. "Then why'd he just say-"

"Don't tell Alfred and you'll have my dessert for a week," Danny interrupted in a panic.

Dick grinned. "Deal," he said as Bruce picked him up. The little boy blinked his eyes a few times before falling back asleep in Bruce's embrace.

Danny halfheartedly glared at the sleeping child. "I swear that kid is gonna grow up to be a politician the way he manipulates like that."

All Bruce could do was sigh. After all Danny was probably onto something. Dick knew very well the influence he had on others and never shied away from using it. It was very likely that he would be holding this particular little incident over their heads for at least the next two weeks.

Bruce looked at Danny, a thought suddenly dawning on him. "Why was Dick sleeping in your room? Did he have a nightmare again?" he asked, shifting the conversation.

Danny shook his head. "Nah. He just insisted that we both make up. He wouldn't leave until I agreed. That kid really doesn't know the meaning of 'no'."

Bruce felt his heart melt as he looked down at the boy in his arms. Why was Dick such a sweet child?

Danny grinned as he started heading downstairs. "Don't get all sappy yet. He was also walking me through his plan of how he got back at Dylan and his gang for my suspension."

The smile dropped from Bruce's face. "Wh... what do you mean revenge? Danny? Danny!?"

I told y'all I'd do it myself if I had to.

[kicxvu]

NOT ALLOWED ! izumi miyamura x reader

summary : bumping into the boyfriend of a really really jealous girlfriend would make your life hell

warnings :

word count : 2k

a/n : first fanfic of my bby ! luv him, and sorry it’s quite hate on Hori… if you don’t like it leave kindly pls !!

-> pt1 -> pt2

Life had always been a quiet affair for you. Each day blended into the next, a monochrome tapestry of routine and solitude. School was no exception - a place where you existed more as a shadow than a person, drifting through hallways and classrooms with barely a ripple in your wake.

It wasn't that you disliked people. No, it was more that you had grown accustomed to the gentle hum of loneliness, finding comfort in the predictability of your own company, at least you were forced to enjoy your own company. Your classmates' names and faces blurred together, a sea of unfamiliar familiarity that you navigated with practiced indifference.

This particular morning started like any other. You rose with the sun, mechanically prepared for school, and set off on your usual route. The spring air was crisp, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms that lined the street. As you walked, your mind wandered, lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts.

You barely registered the school gates as you passed through them, your feet carrying you on autopilot. The chatter of other students washed over you, a meaningless backdrop to your internal musings. You were contemplating the English assignment due next week, mentally cataloging the books you'd need to reference, when it happened.

One moment you were lost in thought, the next you felt the solid impact of colliding with another person. The shock jolted you back to reality, your eyes widening as you stumbled backward.

"Oh!" A male voice exclaimed, surprise evident in his tone.

As you regained your balance, you finally focused on the person you'd walked into. It was a boy, probably around your age, with dark hair that fell softly around his face. His blue eyes were wide with surprise, one hand half-raised as if he'd been about to steady you. There was something vaguely familiar about him, like a face you'd seen in passing a hundred times but never truly looked at.

Next to him stood a girl with long, light brown hair and an expression that rapidly shifted from surprise to anger. You had a fleeting thought that you might have seen her before too, but your notoriously unreliable memory provided no name or context.

You opened your mouth, an apology forming on your lips, when the girl's voice cut through the air like a knife.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, her eyes flashing. "Don't you dare touch my boyfriend!"

The words hit you like a physical force, leaving you reeling. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to process what was happening. Boyfriend? You hadn't meant to touch anyone. It was an accident. Why was she so angry?

Your face, usually a mask of calm indifference, betrayed your bewilderment. You blinked rapidly, mouth slightly agape as you struggled to form a response.

The boy - apparently her boyfriend - turned to the girl, his expression a mix of embarrassment and irritation. "Hori, it was just an accident," he said, his voice low but firm. "There's no need to-"

But the girl - Hori - wasn't listening. She took a step forward, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Are you even listening? I said, stay away from him!"

You flinched at the volume of her voice, acutely aware of the curious stares of other students beginning to gather around you. Your heart raced in your chest, a caged bird beating against your ribs. This was exactly the kind of attention you always strived to avoid.

Summoning your courage, you tried to speak, to explain, to diffuse the situation somehow. But before you could utter a word, you felt hands on your shoulders, pushing you backward with surprising force.

You stumbled, nearly losing your footing. The shock of the physical contact left you breathless, your mind reeling. In all your years of fading into the background, you'd never experienced anything like this.

The boy - Hori's boyfriend - looked positively mortified now. His face had gone pale, and he reached out towards Hori, clearly trying to calm her down. "Hori, stop it! You're overreacting. It was just an accident, okay?"

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Hori stood there, glaring at you with an intensity that made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

You stood frozen, your body tense, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. You weren't used to dealing with such strong emotions - especially not from others. Your own feelings were usually kept carefully in check, hidden behind a facade of quiet reservation. But now, in the face of this unexpected confrontation, you felt your carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble.

Your eyes darted between Hori, her boyfriend, and the growing crowd of onlookers. The urge to run, to escape this bewildering situation, was almost overwhelming. But something kept you rooted to the spot - perhaps the lingering shock, or some deep-seated instinct telling you that running would only make things worse.

As the tension hung in the air, Miyamura's mind was in turmoil. The sight of you, standing there looking lost and confused, triggered a flood of memories from his own past. He saw himself in you - the quiet, reserved child he once was, the target of bullies, the one who faded into the background to avoid attention.

His eyes traced your hunched posture, the way you clutched your bag like a shield, the barely concealed fear in your eyes. It was like looking into a mirror of his younger self, and the realization hit him like a physical blow.

Hori's angry words faded into the background as Miyamura's thoughts raced. He remembered the loneliness of his childhood, the sting of cruel words, the bruises from physical bullying. He thought of the piercings hidden beneath his uniform, each one a testament to his journey of self-discovery and resilience.

In that moment, Miyamura felt a deep, visceral horror at Hori's behavior. The girl he cared for, usually so kind and understanding, was acting like the very bullies that had made his life miserable. He wanted to reach out to you, to offer some word of comfort or understanding, but found himself frozen, caught between his past and present.

Your quiet, almost emotionless apology snapped Miyamura back to reality. He watched, a lump forming in his throat, as you quickly walked away from Hori's accusing gaze. Your retreating figure seemed to blur with the image of his younger self, walking away from yet another confrontation, another day of feeling invisible and misunderstood.

As you disappeared around the corner, Miyamura felt a surge of empathy and regret. He should have done more, said more. He knew all too well the pain of being singled out, of being the focus of unwanted attention.

"Hori," he said softly, turning to his girlfriend. "That wasn't right. She didn't do anything wrong."

Hori, still bristling with indignation, opened her mouth to argue, but something in Miyamura's expression made her pause. She'd rarely seen him look so serious, so… hurt.

"Let's just go to class," Miyamura said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. As they walked, he couldn't shake the image of you from his mind. He wondered about your story, about the experiences that had shaped you into the quiet, reserved person he'd glimpsed in that brief encounter.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly before them as they made their way to class. Miyamura's steps felt heavy, weighed down by memories and regret. He could hear snippets of conversation from other students, whispers about the scene that had just unfolded. It made him feel sick.

As they approached the classroom, Miyamura caught sight of you again. You were just ahead of them, your shoulders hunched, your pace quick as if trying to escape. He wanted to call out to you, to apologize, to offer some word of comfort. But the words stuck in his throat.

Entering the classroom behind you, Miyamura felt a sense of dread. This was your safe space, he realized, the place where you could blend into the background and avoid attention. And now, because of what had happened, all eyes would be on you.

He watched as you made your way to your seat, your movements stiff and uncomfortable under the curious stares of your classmates. Miyamura felt a pang in his chest, remembering countless similar moments from his own past.

As he sat down at his desk, Miyamura couldn't help but think that this day, which had started so ordinarily, had become a turning point. For you, for him, for his relationship with Hori. He glanced back at you, noting the way you seemed to be trying to make yourself as small as possible in your seat.

In that moment, Miyamura made a silent promise to himself. He would find a way to make this right. He would show you that not everyone was like the bullies from his past, that there were people who could see beyond the quiet exterior to the person within.

As the teacher entered and class began, Miyamura's mind was far from the lesson. Instead, he was lost in thoughts of past and present, of hidden scars and silent struggles, and of the unexpected connection he now felt with the quiet girl who sat behind him.

As the lunch bell rang, the classroom erupted into a flurry of activity. Students rose from their seats, chattering excitedly about their plans for the break. You remained seated, watching as Hori practically dragged Miyamura and her friends out of the room, her voice carrying back to you.

"Come on, let's go to the roof! I'm starving!" Hori exclaimed, her earlier anger seemingly forgotten.

"Hori, slow down," Miyamura's softer voice replied, a note of concern evident.

Their voices faded as they disappeared down the hallway, leaving you alone in the now-quiet classroom. The silence enveloped you like a familiar, if unwelcome, friend.

You reached into your bag, pulling out the bento box your mother had carefully prepared that morning. Setting it on your desk, you stared at it, feeling a lump form in your throat.

This was your life, distilled into a single moment. Alone, always alone, even in a room full of people. The realization hit you anew, as fresh and painful as if it were the first time you'd acknowledged it.

You felt a hot tear slide down your cheek and let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. "Pathetic," you whispered to yourself, the word hanging in the air like a judgment.

Your mind began to spiral, thoughts tumbling over each other in a familiar, depressing cascade.

'What's wrong with me?' you wondered, your inner voice tinged with self-loathing. 'Why can't I be like them? Why can't I laugh and chat and make friends so easily?'

You thought about Hori and her group, imagining them on the roof now, sharing food and jokes, creating memories you'd never be part of. The loneliness felt like a physical ache in your chest.

'I'm invisible,' you thought, your fingers tracing patterns on the desk. 'No, worse than invisible. When people do notice me, it's only to yell or push me away.'

The memory of the morning's confrontation flashed through your mind, bringing a fresh wave of shame and hurt.

'I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere. What chance do I have at friendship, at love, at any kind of normal life?'

Your thoughts turned to Miyamura. For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd seen understanding in his eyes. But that was probably just your imagination, wasn't it? Why would someone like him ever notice someone like you?

You wiped your tears away roughly with the back of your hand, angry at yourself for crying, for feeling, for caring.

Looking down at your unopened bento, you felt a wave of nausea. The thought of eating made your stomach churn. You pushed the box away slightly, your appetite completely gone.

The classroom remained silent, the only sound your own shaky breathing as you tried to compose yourself. You stared out the window, watching clouds drift by in a sky that seemed impossibly blue and cheerful, a stark contrast to the gray world you felt trapped in.

As you sat there, alone with your thoughts and untouched lunch, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever change, if you'd ever find a place where you truly belonged. The answer, as always, seemed depressingly clear.

well, you may not like it but you better learn how ‘cause it’s your turn now

Ⓡ kicxvu all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won't let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: surprise double chapters!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You lay in the dim glow of your laptop, the screen saver swooshing back and forth, giving light to the dark. You’re limned it its idleness, in a similarly inert state. You blink, eyes dry and raw, your head pounding. Your back and shoulder pang with your inactivity as you lay on your stomach, neck twisted to one side.

Your vision is static and fuzzy, the air humming. You groan and drag an arm up, the effort alone like lifting a boulder. The world is distant and desolate. There is nothing beyond those four walls.

A chime comes from your laptop. You stare at the curtain, darkness along the borders. It’s night time already. Or again. You don’t know. You lost count of the hours, rather, days.

You roll over and peer at the abyss above. The ceiling is similarly shrouded in shadows, the corners clustered with darkness. Your head spins at the effort of your movement. Your tongue is starchy and sticky from neglect. You cough and sit up, nearly falling back against your pillow.

You don’t want to be awake. It’s so much easier to sleep. Nothing makes sense in your dreams but everything is awful in real life.

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and reach for the plastic cup of stagnant water. You sip from the brim and a slam brings you back into focus. Your hand shakes and you clack the cup back on the table, turning to watch the wall as chaos erupts on the other side.

“Goddamn, Irene, get off of me. I ain’t tellin’ ya again,” the holler rolls through like thunder. “Fuckin’ skank.”

Your eyes round as your ears ring. You cover them and back up to cower against the headboard. Your lip trembles as you hear a crash followed by the shatter of glass.

“We were having fun, sweetheart,” your mother’s desperate yawl comes over the patter of her feet, “don’t go so soon, please, baby.”

“Why you actin’ like a goddamn whore?” The man snarls and you hear your mother whimper. You sniffle as you fold yourself up and push your chin down against your knee, shielding your head as if it’s you taking the blow.

“I--” your mother snivels, “I just wanna love you, hon.”

You close your eyes. Lee huffs and stomps past your door, his shadow flickering beneath. He’s just another in a line of men your mother brings around; each one as angry as the last. It always starts the same; at first, they’re nice, then you hear how they change.

“I’m too damn tired and it’s too damn late. I’ll be back when you get your head screwed on,” he retorts and hits the wall, making you jump again as the springs of your bed squeak. “And you’re a goddamn mother... should know better...”

You crouch in fear, locked up as you listen through the wall. You hear him moving around as your mother begs him to stay. You press your hands to your ears so you can’t make out her words. The front door of the apartment snaps shut and quaver out a breath.

You wait until you hear your mother retreat, herself crying, and the clink of a glass comes shortly after. You wipe your face and lift your head slowly. You won’t be able to sleep, not with your heart racing like this.

It takes all your strength to crawl across the bed and put your feet to the floor. Your stench clings to your unwashed clothes. You haven’t changed in a couple days at least. You can barely remember the last time you left your room.

You sit down in front of your computer. The metal seat of the folding chair is hard and cold, even through your pants. You squiggle your fingers over the touchpad of the outdated laptop, as thick as a book.

The screen wakes up and you key in your passcode with one finger. The wallpaper comes up, the colours stinging your eyes, and you squint as you adjust to the glare. You tap on the envelope icon to open your inbox.

At least a dozen unread emails clutter the folder. Reminders and notifications automated by your obligations and inactivity. You scroll through and delete the messages telling you to submit your assignment and noting several missed tests. At the very top, the latest of the bunch, is from a person.

Your heart sinks as you see the name and the subject line. Professor Raymond Smith, Attn: Overdue Work. God. You clutch your head and your eyes tinge once more. You don’t have enough moisture to summon any more tears. Your head pulses and your eyes itch but you can’t cry.

You shudder and make yourself look at the screen. You hover your hand over the mousepad and make yourself tap. Just one quick touch and the message opens.

The professor greets you by name. You want to dissolve into nothing. It’s easy to just be a student number on a screen but now he picks you out of the bunch and you know exactly why. You haven’t logged into the learning site in a week or more. You haven’t been able to make yourself.

‘It has come to my notice that your last tasks have gone unsubmitted. As your instructor, I am obligated to check in to see whether I can expect these assignments to be submitted for grading. As well, I would offer any support necessary for you to do so.

Please respond to this email at your convenience so we might rectify this situation. You may also schedule a meeting through my calendar linked in my signature.

Best Regards,

Professor Smith’

You cringe. How do you explain to him that this always happens? That you’re just a failure?

This was supposed to be different, but just like everything, you blew it. You thought that you could make this work. You remember the day you got your acceptance; the program is manageable and you can do it all online. You thought you were getting better but your mom stopped refilling your script and you stopped caring.

You sit, blindly staring at the screen. For an hour, maybe more, caught between shame and sadness. You can’t just run away from another thing. You take a breath and raise your hands over the keyboard. It’s just letters on a screen.

Hi

Dear Pro

Hello Professor

I apologize for not submitting my work. I will not be able to complete this course due to mental health personal reasons.

Thank you.

You read and re-read. You guess it’s good enough? You don’t know. Whatever. Just another poor excuse.

You hit send and you peek at the time. You look at the original email. It’s a bit strange the instructor would email that late. You delete the email and go back to bed, hiding under the blanket. Typical, just another stupid idea.

📓

Your head throbs as you wake up. You’ve slept too much. Nothing different than usual but you haven’t left bed for more than a couple minutes at a time. Your skull feels ready to cave in and swells with each movement.

You get up, stumbling as you find your bearings, shuffling to your door and into the hall. You go into the bathroom. It’s a mess, like usual. Your mother’s clothes are on the floor and a man’s razor is on the edge of the sink. Is he here again?

You relieve yourself and flush, washing your hands then your face. You should probably shower while you’re in there. You lift your arm and confirm the need. You stink and your clothes are damp with your sweat.

You undress and crank on the faucet. You step into the grimy booth behind the counter as the water splashes down cold and slowly warms in the whining pipes. You shiver and let it cleanse you as much as it can.

You squeeze out some of the discount soap that smells like a hospital and scrub yourself as the air steams around you. You hear an odd creak then the plastic of the toilet seat hitting the porcelain tank. What the heck?

You grab the edge of the curtain and peek around it, smearing lather along the plastic. It’s opaque enough to blue your silhouette but not completely hide you. That man, Lee, belches as he holds his dick and pisses. He looks over and smirks.

“Ah, sorry, darling, didn’t know you were in here,” he chuckles and turns straight, leaning to brace the wall as he sighs, “goddamn, my balls are tight.”

You pop back behind the curtain and grimace. Ew. It’s not the first time you’ve had an awkward run in with one of your mother’s suitors, for lack of a better term, but no less jarring than any other. You shut off the water and back up, reaching past the other end of the curtain to grab the towel.

Something closes around your wrist and has you yelping. You cling to the curtain, staying behind it as Lee tugs on you.

“Don’t needa be shy, darlin’,” he tries to drag you out, “doubt it’s much different than your mama.”

You try to yank back but he’s too strong. You slip and barely save yourself as you grab onto the towel bar. You cry out, “let go! Please!”

He squeezes and you wince, pressed against the curtain as your knees buckle. Your soles are slippery on the wet tile. You whine and whimper, heart pounding in your chest.

There’s a knock at the door and he lets you go. You quickly pull free the towel and hide in the shower to wrap your body in it. You don’t think it’s clean.

“Everything okay?” The door groans with your mother’s entry.

“Ah, I’m just tryna piss and your daughter’s making all sorts of fuss,” he scoffs and flushes the toilet, “like she ain’t never seen a real man before.”

“Oh, Lee, you shoulda let her finish--”

“What’s the big deal, she was in the shower,” he deflects, “you know I ain’t her for that brat.”

You pant and lean against the wall, veins coursing with adrenaline. Your mother grumbles as they leave. You feel the draught of the open door and warily sidle out from behind the curtain. You gather your clothes and check that the coast is clear and find your way back to your room.

You pull on a fresh hoodie and your least dirty pair of sweats. You need to do laundry desperately. You need to do a lot of things. Your computer bings as if to agree with that sentiment.

You sit down at the table and stare at your laptop. The folding plastic thing has barely enough room for that and your notebook. You sigh. All you do is sigh. Everything is just a disappointment. You have nothing but trash around you and you fit right in.

You open the lid and login. You could watch that play through of the new fantasy game you can’t afford. Or you just break that damn thing. You have an email.

You don’t click on it right away. Instead, you scroll through a subreddit on an obscure television show you streamed on Youtube. All the posts are years old and the place is dead. If you’re good at anything, it’s avoidance.

Finally, your anxiety knots tight enough for you to do something. You close your browser and open Outlook. You make a strange noise as you see the response to the email you sent days ago. Or by your estimation. You scratch your neck until the skin burns.

You work at deleting the spam from your inbox before you’re forced to face the Re:

You click and read with trepidation. Again, the professor addresses you by name.

‘I understand that you are dealing with personal obligations. Considering how far we are in this course, I would like to allow you the opportunity to complete it successfully. If the current workload is too much, we can discuss alternatives to meet the learning objectives.

I would prefer that we have this conversation face-to-face. If you would like explore your options, please use the link below to meet with me on Tuesday at noon. Please confirm here and I look forward to meeting and speaking with you then.

Also let me know if I can do anything else.

Professor Smith’

You want to melt into nothing. You want to evaporate from existence. You want to just keel over and die. How embarrassing!

You want to delete it a forget. You want to say now and through everything away. You want to go back to how you’ve always been. You want to be a slug in the dirt. You want to stop hoping because it only ever ends like this.

But you can’t. You hit the trash button but then you can’t help but stretch your fingertips between CTRL and Z. The message reappears and you read it again and again and again. It feels like this is the moment. This is the big decision you make; is your life always going to be like this or are you going to try?

You hit reply.

‘Thank you, Professor Smith. I will meet you on Tuesday. I appreciate your understanding and I will do better.’

Your eyes blur as you move the cursor over the little arrow. You take a breath and tap your fingertips. That’s that, then.

[itsabouttimex2]

Could you write something for shadowpeach with yandere wukong? Maybe it takes place right after wukong sees macaque for the first time since he killed him or maybe it takes place during season 4 when wukong gets trapped inside the scroll and sees their relationship before he killed macaque and once he gets out of the scroll he got full on yandere? :3

(Hai, im rlly sorry. i just realized i sent this originally when your inbox was closed. im super sorry😭)

(Hey, no big deal! It’s sweet that you remembered your request!)

Lost and Found

“…you hurt a lot of people,” the Great Sage starts, plucking at the hair around his wrists, “and you don’t even feel bad, huh?”

“I’ve got nothing to feel bad for,” returns his rival, rolling a drupe pit between his palms- a remnant of the peaches that Sun Wukong so adores. “None of this was my fault.”

It’s hard to tell whether or not Macaque is being sincere right now- he’s more guarded now than ever before, even as rays of sunlight spill softly across his pitch-black fur and his stomach fills with sweet fruit.

He’s like shattered obsidian, inky blackness casting rainbows in the glinting light.

“Bud, you made a deal with the literal most powerful demon in the world, and didn’t even try to-

“Keep this up,” cuts in the umbrakinetic, “and I’m gonna leave.”

Wukong springs to his feet suddenly, crushing a few pink-white petals under his reckless soles, squashed into mangled clumps of cellulose under the reckless monkey- then crushes a few dozen more as he charges to Macaque and slings himself over the startled simian.

“No, no, no! Bud, you said we would-“

“Get off me! Dammit, I’m not some kind of toy!”

“No! Lay down and listen to me!”

Macaque struggles under Wukong’s iron grip, his claws digging into golden arms as the tension between them crackles like static. The multi-eared monkey snarls, his claws scraping at Wukong’s clothes and fur, but the Great Sage’s skin is long hardened by fire and trial- it remains unblemished.

“Listen,” Wukong huffs, his voice trembling somewhere between desperation and long-baked sorrow. “You can’t just walk away every time someone calls you out! That’s not how this works, Mac! That’s not how we work!”

Macaque’s pupils narrow to slits, his breath heavy as he glares into Wukong’s golden eyes. The sunlight dances on them, warm and radiant. “You think- you think a little chat will make ‘us’ work? ‘Us’ never worked!”

“It can! We can make this work, if you would just try!”

Macaque stills, his claws frozen mid-scratch against Wukong’s wrist. The afternoon sunlight filters through the cherry blossoms, casting fractured patterns across their fur. For a moment, the only sound is the wind rustling the petals around them.

He gives, eventually. The sable simian huffs and deflates under his old mate’s grip, going slack against the meadow’s grass.

There’s a moment where Macaque leans in, ruffled black fur thrown askew with effort and sweat, still flecked with debris from the Lady Bone Demon’s final push for utter “perfection”.

He’s tired, worn, spent from battle and spent from a lifetime of old regrets circling his heart.

But he’s still Macaque.

“…not in a thousand years, Wukong.”

Even though the rejection is tempered, the king wilts under it, golden fur dimming under the weight of his mate’s refusal.

“Mac... you can’t just-“

“I can. I make my own choices now, Wukong,” the darker monkey snaps, lips pulling back to reveal his sharp canines- a threat, if the matter is pushed.

...but the king just can’t let this go. Not after centuries spent waiting and wanting.

“...there’s no one else who can protect you.”

A harsh snort comes from Macaque’s creased snout, the unpleasant sound smoothing into chuckles.

“From what, O’ Great Sage? What do I need to protected from?”

“The Celestial Realm, bud. You think they haven’t already figured out who you threw your lot in with? That you made a deal with the Lady Bone Demon?”

A pause, sharp and stiff- he’s hit a nerve.

“...they wouldn’t. Not after I helped defeat her. Not after I put my life on the line,” he almost pleads, as though the court could hear his defenses. “They wouldn’t.”

“After what they did to me? You’re not off the menu, bud- you never are. Not after you’ve wronged the Celestial Court.”

There’s a dread rush of panic that starts to race through Macaque’s cold veins, an icy chill radiating slowly through his skin.

“They wouldn’t.”

Right after he says it, Wukong signs and rolls off of Macaque, offering a hand to help him up.

“They never let go, bud. The moment we sieged their home, there was no way they’d ever stop looking for a way to ‘repay’ us.”

His old rival sits up with panic in his shrouded eyes, slapping away Wukong’s hand.

“No,” he snaps, bolting upright under a shower of plink petals. “You’re right. They won’t. Which means I-“

“You’re leaving,” the king sighs. “You’re running away, again. You’re gonna leave me, just like every one always does.”

Macaque pulls his face into a nasty sneer, dark and creased. “You don’t get to try and pull me into some little pity part, Monkey King. Not after you put me in the ground.”

To his surprise, one of Wukong’s golden eyes twitch, lit with a sudden anger.

“You know what? No. No, you aren’t going anywhere,” the monkey snaps, snaring one of Macaque’s wrists in his hand. “Not until you’ve actually started to change. You spent five centuries down in the underworld and don’t even start to think “Hey, maybe there’s a reason I ended up down here?!” Not even for a second, Macaque?!”

The umbrakinetic pulls back a little, eyes wide with surprise at having his usual shit-slinging slung back at him.

“That’s not- shut your damn mouth. I don’t deserve to be yelled at, and-“

“Did I “deserve” to be alone under a mountain for five hundred years after one fight? Did I “deserve” to be abandoned while I was fighting the Jade Emperor? Did I “deserve” to be collared by the Celestial Realm while you got to run around wreaking havoc?”

Things are going wrong, Macaque faintly realizes. He’s not usually the one get reamed out for centuries old mistakes, a dynamic he was quite fond of- Wukong takes all the blame, and he slinks off to hide in the shadows. That’s what he likes.

And he realizes more and more with each passing second that things are going further south- especially when he see the way that Wukong’s hand dips into his pocket.

From it, he procures a gleaming circlet.

No. No. No.

It’s wound with the image of branching vines and flowers, a step up from Wukong’s own in term of design- perhaps someone had grown bored with it

The golden hoop exudes a warm, almost soothing aura- it’d be calming if Macaque didn’t know what it could do.

But he knows almost everything about it. He knows how it works. He knows who made it.

Guanyin.

She had been like a mother to the Monkey King during his short stay in the Celestial Realm, one of the very few gods that he thought of fondly- and one of the even fewer who looked on him fondly in turn.

“My dear Monkey,” she had cooed to the intruding demon, both her warm hands cusping his furry cheeks, “what have you come for today?”

“Guanyin, I… I found my old mate,” he admitted to her, his palms nervously clasping over her own. “And I don’t know what to do. I want him back, but...”

“Oh, my little pilgrim... you wish to reunite with... wasn’t his name Macaque, then? Well, if you do desire this... shadowy little imp... I will lend you my aid.”

Her head had dipped forehead, lips gentle on his forehead, a blessing born of warmth and love- a blue sigil etches across the skin-warmed spot, riding the king good luck and protection. “Anything for you, my dear Monkey. Take my blessings, and take this... this circlet. I trust that you will do good with them.

But Macaque hadn’t know that.

That Wukong had a plan all along, that it was backed up by an adoring goddess of mercy, that he had a damned tightening fillet from the start and was never above using it-

All he knows at this moment, frozen in place form shock- is the tightness around his forehead as Wukong snaps the hoop into place.

“We can still fix this, Moonbeam. I’m not losing you again.”

[not-sleepys-blog]

I need another step dad! Gojo where he steals your panties and masturbates with them.

Read the previous step dad! Gojo here

WC: 584

A/N: this was one of my ideas when I’d first started posting but I didn’t know who. I have it written down as “pervy step dad stealing panties” 💀 pretty sure one of my friends didn’t like the idea

MINORS DNI

Just a bad habit. He told himself as he opened your bedroom door, walking to the dresser and opening your underwear drawer. He found himself sneaking into your room when you were away so he could satisfy his urges with the closest thing to your pussy. He could already feel his cock hardening in his sweats as he looked for that specific pair of blue lace panties that drove him crazy when you would prance around in your skirts that covered just enough or the oversized shirt you’d wear to bed.

He’d sit on the sofa and watch you move around in the kitchen, watching as you reached up to grab something, giving him a glimpse of your round ass, it took everything in him to keep him from walking over to you and bending you over the counter, grabbing your hips and pulling you back against him. He ground his hard cock against your ass, letting you feel how much he wanted you, his hands moving to your breasts, kneading them roughly. He feels his cock twitching at the mere thought of sinking into your tight cunt, shit, he was getting to caught up in his own fantasies. He starts to stroke himself through his sweats, his eyes flutter shut as he cursed under his breath. His hand moves faster, his breathing heavier, as he thinks about your body, your scent, and how good you'd feel wrapped around his cock. He finally finds that specific pair of panties, his fingers already hooking around the waistband of his sweatpants and tugging them down, his cock springing free. He starts to stroke himself, his movements slow and deliberate, he wraps your panties around his shaft, letting out a low groan. His mind flashing to memories of you. How pretty you look on your knees, taking his cock in your mouth, how your eyes roll back when he hits that perfect spot. Fuck he wishes you were here right now. Gojo grits his teeth, struggling to hold back his orgasm. His cock twitches, the tip glistening with precum as he forces himself to slow his pace causing his hips to jerk into his fist and the crumpled cloth around his cock wishing it was your mouth or better yet, your tight pussy. He thinks back to when he fucked you in the bathroom at a dinner party. How he lifted you up onto the counter, spreading your legs wide, you were already dripping for him. Such a needy thing. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing against your wetness, burying his cock inside you with a swift thrust. He could almost feel how you squeezed around him, the way you moaned behind his fingers after he shoved them in your mouth to keep you from moaning too loud. His breathing becomes more labored, his body shaking and his muscles straining. his grip on his cock tightening again, his strokes becoming more aggressive. He's close, so unbelievably close. His body tensed as he lets go, his cock pulsing inside your panties. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over him as he comes, his seed filling your panties. He groans, his head falling back, his body shuddering as he rides out the orgasm. He removes your panties from his cock, his cock still semi-hard as he puts his cock back into sweatpants. He looks at the cum covered panties in his hands as he closer your drawer and left your room to go hide the evidence

[soft-girl-musings]

Cry (MK Spring Bingo #1)

Marc Spector x Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: panic/anxiety attacks, possibly inaccurate description of an emergency room visit (i don't remember the exact process i borrowed from my own experience bc i was sick… in the ER…), no use of y/n

wc: 1,356

fic summary: Three times Marc told you it was okay to cry, and one time you returned the favor.

A/N: Finally got around to writing something for someone besides jake lockley, bless. once again this is self-indulgent, but if anything hits home for you i'm glad <3 (based on Adam Melchor's "Cry" , which is the most marc-coded piece of music i've ever heard. in this essay i will)

_____________________

The first time came out of nowhere.

Nothing was wrong per se; no major injury or crisis had come up. All you knew was that you were frozen in the corner of your room, hot tears streaming down your face as your mind raced between a million different things.

“Sweetheart, have you seen my–” Marc’s request stopped the moment he saw you frozen in the darkened room, gripping the sleeves of your shirt as you bit your lip so hard you risked giving yourself another reason to cry.

“I just need a minute,” your voice came out trembling and heavy, as if too many syllables would cause the tears to fall with greater force. Not that you knew how to stop them, or how they even started.

Quick strides across the room brought Marc to your side. His warm hands wrapped around yours, cold and losing color from digging into your arms. 

Words were never his strong suit; Marc’s a man of few, usually letting his presence and actions suffice. So when faced with consoling you against some invisible threat, he could almost hear the sound of his own heart breaking in tandem with your staggered breath.

So he stood there. Until your fingers relaxed and entwined with his, he stood there until he could guide you to the floor. Arms wrapped around your shoulders, he cradled you as you continued to cry.

“This is so stupid,” you groaned as you wiped your face with your sleeve. “So fucking… ugh.”

“Hey,” he shushed you. “Not stupid. You’re feeling what you’re feeling.”

“But I don’t know why,” you choked out. It was hard enough being so distraught; not having a valid reason for it made everything hurt more.

“You don't have to justify it. Don't have to do anything but just… be here.” A hand to your temple eased your head against his chest. “I'm here, as long as you need me to be.”

This was all the permission you needed to let another rush of tears spill down your cheeks, soaking his shirt. He didn't mind.

___________________

The second time was in the emergency room.

You'd never struggled to catch your breath like this before; a common cold turned south and triggered long-dormant childhood asthma, making your lungs betray the rest of your body. Marc drove you to the ER when your hollow coughing didn't let up for the third day in a row. Head spinning and chest aflame, you were rushed to the back as soon as Marc told them you couldn't breathe.

“You've got to breathe steady, honey.”

“I'm trying,” you muttered around the medicated tube in your mouth. It had to be almost 3 in the morning; your body ached like crazy and you didn't catch a word of what the nurse told you to do with your medication. All you knew was that you were cold, exhausted, and grateful to have Marc there to time your breathing.

But even with his hand holding yours, you still felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Every inhalation brought medicine to your airways, but the ragged sensation resonated through your chest and made your body ache more.

“I'm so tired,” you finally said around the device. With that, your tears fell faster than you could swipe at them. Your frown pushed the device from your mouth, but you didn't care.

Marc sprang up, catching the equipment when your grip faltered. He said nothing; instead, he climbed onto the bed with you, leaning your back against his chest and taking your hand in his once more, bringing the medication back to your lips. You let him bear your weight, immediate relief washing over you as he took over keeping the device steady with one hand and gently dabbing a tissue at your cheek with the other. 

“Nothing wrong with a few tears, honey. Means you’re alive.”

When you finally went home, the fire in your lungs extinguished, he held you again until you fell asleep.

_____________________

“.....The movie just started.”

(The third time was on the living room couch.)

You had finally talked Marc into watching La La Land with you (with the promise of his getting to choose the next movie night film, of course). You were barely 30 seconds into the opening number when you'd started crying, eyes glued to the screen as dozens of up-and-comers danced and sang about their dreams to make it in the industry.

“They haven't said anything.”

“They're saying everything.”

“He's dancing on a car.”

“Because he's excited!”

“Why did they stop traffic to dance?”

You didn't hear the rest of his quips, too engrossed in the scene. The colors, the music, and the highly impractical interstate  choreography had a way of getting to you ever since you first saw this movie. Meanwhile, Marc sat with his arms crossed and eyebrows knit together as he tried to follow along.

When you noticed his body language, you reached for the remote and paused the movie. “Do you… want to watch something else?”

Marc's face fell when he realized this new batch of tears wasn’t because of the movie, but because of him. The thought of making your cry hit like a punch to the gut.

He took the remote from you, moving closer to your side. “Nice try, but you're not getting out of it that easily. I need your commentary if I'm gonna keep up.” He hit play and choked down every criticism as he saw your face light up, tears of joy brimming during the remaining 2 hours of the film.

The next morning, while making breakfast, you could have sworn you heard Marc humming Another Day of Sun under his breath.

_____________________

As you'd grown closer, you began to know Marc as your rock, your steady landing place when you had thoughts and feelings too big to deal with on your own. He never had to say much to be there for you. He kept you tethered and together, happy to be of service no matter how ugly your hardships felt. 

It was only a matter of time before you saw a crack in his foundation.

You got home late one night, a thunderstorm hot on your heels. You had shrugged off your coat and shoes, calling out to Marc to see if he was home. No response.

You checked each room diligently, until you found him sitting on the corner of the bed.

“Marc?” You asked softly, walking toward him. You knelt in front of him, and the sight of his face twisted into an unfamiliar expression, a steady stream of tears spilling from his reddened eyes, was more than you could bear.

The first time came out of nowhere.

“Can you give me your hands, Marc?” He complied, his breath short and his eyes fixed on the storm pelting the window with sheet after sheet of rain. His vision darted between drops of water and streaks of lightning. The room shook with the echoes of thunder as the worst of the storm hit.

“Hey,” you urged him. “Just be here. With me.” Your thumb traced his wrist as you tried to stay calm.  “Can you breathe with me, Marc?” You sat up on your knees. He nodded, slowly but surely matching the pace of your breath. 

You didn't know what was on his mind, only that it was racing. You couldn't tell what had him so worked up, only that his breath escaped him even as you counted to ten again, and again, unrelenting in your focus on him. You had no idea what made your rock, your anchor, cry like this.

Maybe he'd tell you later; maybe it'd remain a mystery. None of that mattered in the moment. All that mattered was the rhythm of your breath as the rain let up; the way his tears drenched your sleeves when you dabbed at his flushed cheeks; the steady thrum of his heart as his body relaxed beside yours. All that mattered was how, with your chest pressed to his back as you lay on top of the bedspread, he let you hold him for a change.

_____________________

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added/taken off this wee tag list)

[medullamindset]

hello! Could you make a hobie brownxfemvirginreader? That it’s her first time and she is kinda scared but hobie tries to calm her? If it’s a okay to you!^^

First ask YIPPIEEE!! and yes i can ♥︎

Heads up! Hobie calls reader Doll, Sweetheart and Baby. Reader calls Hobie 'Bee' once or twice. Use of the pull out method (actual protection is adviced)

You're not sure how you ended up in this.. situation. It was supposed to be a casual sleepover with your boyfriend, yet it feels like anything but casual when hes caressing your face like this, kissing you slowly, his tongue cautious yet seeking entrance.

The tickle of his cool lip ring against your warm skin and his hand sliding down makes you gasp, Hobie takes it as an opportunity to glide his tongue against yours, making you let out the quietest whine. And the warmth pooling between your thighs cant be ignored anymore.. you shuffle uncomfortably, signaling Hobie to check on you.

"Y'alright?" He murmurs against your mouth, his hand ghosting over your torso, right underneath your breast. "Yeah.. yeah, its just.. alot." You admit, sure you've kissed other people before, but it was never really more than that. with Hobie it feels different, hes so patient and kind, pouring love and care into each movement. He looks you over, reading you like a book, he always does. "You new to this stuff then?" He asks, the bluntness making you shoot up, searching his features for any boredom or even disgust, but all you find is gentle curiosity.

"Yes." You nod, looking down to avoid his gaze, but ofcourse you can still fucking feel it, feel him.

"We can stop if you wanna..-" he starts but you shake your head. "No, i want it.. I want you." You admit, fidgeting with a seam on his well-worn t-shirt. "Im just nervous, i guess..?"

"Okay," hobie climbs over, now hovering above you, he saids "we'll take it slow, yeah?" He kisses you, once, twice. "I'll take care of you." He affirms you with his hand back on your cheek, his thumb caressing back and forth. "Nice an' proper, yeah?" He kisses you again, and you return it with fervour, a silent agreement.

Minutes pass like seconds and suddenly you're laying back, with Hobie between your legs, kissing and nipping at the plush of your thighs while rubbing your pussy through your underwear, slow, slow circles around your clit, making you tense every time he rubs it just right. His free hand is wrapped around your left thigh, fingertips ghosting up and down it, sending a wave of goosebumps through you.

"'Bee.." you pant, looking down at him with need. He meets your gaze with his own teasing one, not once stopping the movement over your clothed clit, making you struggle to find the words. "Please,.. quit fucking around." You giggle pathetically, making Hobie chuckle.

"Can't help myself, doll.." he shrugs. "You're so" kiss  "kissable." Kiss

You let out a breathy giggle, sinking into the cushions with a faint smile. And thats when Hobie decides hes done "fucking around". He sits up and pulls down your underwear, the cool air hitting your wetness makes you shiver and close your legs. Hobie coaxes them open againwith his soft palms. you look down at what hes doing, and thats when you see it.. his cock straining against his jeans, rock hard, begging for attention, all that for little ol' you?

Hobies tongue swipes over his lips as he leans back and palms himself, staring into you eyes while doing so, seeing the mezmerized look in them as the feast upon the sight makes his head fall back with a defeated groan. You feel yourself clench as it plays out. Hobie begins undoing his belt, making quick work of the button and zipper, he pulls his pants down along with his briefs.

You gasp quietly as his cock springs up and hits his stomach, it swaying slightly as he takes his pants all the way off. He climbs on top of you, grabbing his dick and sliding the dark pink head between your wet folds, he looks up at you. "You're okay with this still, yeah?" You nod. "Yeah." He kisses your forehead, "'kay." He mumbles as he slowly pushes inside, filling you up inch by inch.

"Ohh.. fuck." You breathe, the words coming out in a whisper. Hes not even all the way in when his tip nudges your cervix. He pulls out halfway only to thrust back inside, making you both gasp. You hold onto him as he experiments with his pace, watching which ways your face contorts when he does this and that. Making you grab at his back and torso desparately. "Takin' it so well, doll." He purrs. "You feel good?" He asks, caressing your thigh, gently draging his fingers over the marks he left there before quickening his pace with a snap of his hips. "Mhm!.. shit!" Your eyes squeeze shut as Hobies thrusts quicken, your eyebrows pulling together like a pleading puppies.

He grabs your hands, holding them by either side of your head as he comes closer, your noses nudge as you pant against eachothers mouths. He kisses you sloppily, dragging his tongue against yours. You muster up some courage and begin to suck on his slippery muscle, ripping a guttural groan out of him, he squeezes your hands as he slams into your g-spot, making you let go of his tongue with a loud moan. "Shit, baby.. you're doin' so good, so good f'me." He grunts, scooting his knees a bit closer to you so he'll hit your g-spot with each thrust. This new angle has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your throats getting dry from all the heavy panting. You let out another broken moan, already feeling yourself getting close. "Hobie!!" You shriek as your legs stretch and tense in desparation. "I know, sweetheart.. shit- me too.." he grunts, letting go of one of your hands, he leans back and spits, letting his saliva dribble all the was down onto your cunt. He starts rubbing circles on your clit with his right thumb again, that combined with him slamming into your g-spot over and over being what eventually has you skyrocketing towards climax, you begin pulsating around him, grabbing onto his arm for support and squeezing his other hand in yours. "H-Hobie, m'so close! M'so fucking close!" You slur your words, digging your nails into his bicep. "Yeah? Cum on my cock, Baby." Hobie whines as you tighten around him, choking his dick.

Your legs shake as your orgasm takes over full force, you let out wheezy moans and broken whimpers and all you see is white for a solid 15 seconds.

Hobies thrusts lose their rythmn as he comes closer and closer to release, his hips stuttering as he tries VERY hard not to cum, wanting to let you ride out your orgasm before he pulls out. His movement on your clit slows and eventually stops as you start getting overstimulated. He pulls out gently before jacking himself off frantically over your stomach, cumming with a low groan.

He bucks into his hand, thick spurts of white cum hitting your warm skin. His head falls back as he comes down from his high, still panting heavily.

He crouches back down and pets your hair. "Y'alright?" He mumbles before kissing your cheek. "Yeah.. thank you, 'Bee." You hum, a stupid grin on your face as he keeps kissing you all over, whispering praises in your ear.

Being my first writing (this long, anyway) i hope this was alright :')

[rocknrolldecadence]

Hiii, okay so, i've read some of your fics and i really like how you write things, so i wanted to request something fluffy with Axl. Like the reader is really stressed and worn out, so Axl is there for her and in general very sweet with her? I just want you to include lots of hand holding, hugs and kisses (maybe a massage too if you can throw it in somewhere). You don't have to do it if you don't want to, thank you in advance!

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

i’ve got you

you’re stressed, and axl knows what to do to cheer you up

warnings: alcohol and drunkenness

a/n: tysm!!! sorry this took so long, i hope you like it 😛

life had been hitting you hard recently. real hard. it seemed like no matter what you did, you couldn’t ease the stress you felt. everyday was a struggle, and oftentimes you wondered if you’d even get through a day. with everything going on in your life, it felt like you’d never get relief.

there was one thing you found solace in, though. well… one person. your boyfriend, axl. you’d think since he’s the lead singer of the band many proclaimed to be ‘the next big thing’ in the world of rock n roll, he wouldn’t be very loving or attentive. but he was the complete opposite. axl was the most kind, considerate man you knew. sure, that certainly wasn’t the image he kept up in his music or for the media, but he truly was the best person you knew. so when you went round to his place one day, he could tell something was up.

“what’s wrong, love?” he asked you as you sat down together on his sofa. it was old, and a spring loudly creaked as you sat, but you didn’t mind. there was already a glass of wine waiting for you, the decanter placed like a centrepiece between your glass and axl’s. you sighed and sipped on your drink, hesitant to answer. you felt the liquid run down your throat, warming you up from the inside out. silently, you wondered how he was able to afford it. it seemed very fancy. you met your boyfriend’s eyes and began to speak, but cut yourself off.

“you can tell me.” he encouraged, his soft tone of voice putting you at ease.

“just… life, i guess? its so tough. i feel like there’s so many things just weighing me down every day. no matter what i do, i feel so stressed. it’s like there’s no remedy for it. i don’t know what to do.” you confessed. you knew you were safe to tell axl anything. that was what you liked about him - he always made you feel valued and not like you were crazy.

axl listened intently as you vented to him. when you were done, he grabbed you softly and pulled you into a hug, pressing a light kiss on your cheek. the combined smell of tobacco and wine putting you at ease. you let yourself sink into him, and slowly but surely, you began to cry. tears dripped down your face and were absorbed into axl’s shirt. he held you tighter, letting you get your emotions out.

“i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he reassured you as you cried. you stayed like that for a while with him, just holding onto eachother wordlessly. it felt like the world had stopped. you didn’t know how long you ended up sitting on that dingy sofa together, but it was insanely comforting. soon you started to feel better. but then axl had an idea.

“how about we go get some drinks?”

“oh, axl, i don’t kno-”

“think about it. we’ll walk down, sit and have a few, and then we can come back here and sleep. does that not sound good to you?” he said to you. you tossed the idea around in your head before eventually agreeing. why not? it’d be fun.

you got yourself ready with the few supplies you always left at axl’s place. once you were ready, you left with him and started to walk to the nearest bar to his place. subtly, he linked your hand with his, intertwining your fingers together. it made you blush. you and axl had been together for a long time now, but whenever he did small things like that, it still had you reacting like you did at the start of your relationship.

it was a short enough walk to the bar. you sat down on a stool beside axl. it wasn’t very busy, so you got served right away. the bartender took your orders and you both got them quickly. as you sipped away at your drink, you and your boyfriend quietly chatted. after a while he asked, “how you feeling now?”

“i’m okay,” you answered, “feeling better than before, anyway.”

“i’m glad. i hate seeing you so upset, darling.”

you smiled and the two of you fell back into what you were talking about before. as the hours passed, the bar filled up more and more, until you could barely hear what axl was saying to you. so, when you finished your drinks, you paid and left. your tipsiness had you stumbling slightly as you walked back. axl reached out his arm and you leant on him. you giggled at the close contact. he was warm. comforting. and you wanted to tell him so.

“hey, axl.” you said suddenly, stopping under a street lamp.

he turned to look at you and stopped too. “yeah?”

“thanks for tonight. you always know what to do to make me feel better. love you.”

he smiled. “i love you too, baby.”

and with that, he grabbed you and kissed you, disregarding the cars that sped past on the road beside you. you kissed him back, leaning into his embrace.