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#and hes holding her in his arms late late at night...
bpmiranda · 15 hours
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hey could I request lumberjack Logan being known as all emo and solitaire at work but one day his gf shows up because he forgot lunch?
My Girl (Logan Howlett)
A/N: fluffy, lumberjack!logan, bubbly!gf, 20+ f!reader, grumpy!logan, suggestive content
When Logan spent most of the day chopping wood and hauling tree trunks, he wasn’t exactly a in a chatting mood so the men he worked with didn’t really know much about him. Logan put in the long hours and he’d go home, he wouldn’t ever go to the bar with them, wouldn’t join in on the work gossip. His coworkers only knew two things about him; his name and what car he drove. Sometimes he would be dropped off and they only ever saw the silhouette of whom they could assumed was a woman, but Logan never had her get out of the car.
“Who’re you hiding from us, Logan?” They would tease and he’d only smirk to himself, shaking his head as he continued his tasks.
You weren’t a secret, he wasn’t trying to hide you. Logan wanted to keep you safe, to protect you, and above all, keep you to himself. Some of the men didn’t know how to control themselves around pretty women and Logan believed you were the prettiest thing to grace the Earth. He knew he wouldn’t be able stand their ogling eyes on you, their cheap sweet talk making you uncomfortable, so he’d kiss you and tell you he loved you before getting out, he’d tell you to sit in the car as he grabbed his tools, and give you a sly wink as you backed out to head home.
It wasn’t your intention to drive up there without his knowledge, but he had forgotten his lunch and you couldn’t stand the thought of him working those long shifts without something to eat. As you scanned the yard for him among the others who were already taking their lunch break, one of them began to approach you with a small smirk, his eyes roaming over the backside of your jeans. When you spotted Logan, he was already sauntering towards you, the ax resting over his shoulder as you happily bounded over to him, unaware of the man now cowering below Logan’s sharp gaze behind you. “Don’t be mad. You forgot your lunch.” You say against his lips as he brings you into his aide with an arm around your waist. You press a hand into his chest and hold tightly onto his lunchbox behind his back as he kisses you with such fervor it makes you dizzy.
It’s his fault he forgot it, left it sitting there on the counter on which he also had you sitting with his head between your thighs. It had been a rushed morning, but if he was going to choose whether to spend what extra time he did have packing his lunch or pleasuring you, he would choose the latter again. “Couldn’t ever be mad at you, baby.” He whispers against your lips, holding you so possessively you feel slightly out of breath. “You should go home now,” He urges and he feels your lips turn into a frown against his mouth which makes him chuckle. “Or would you like to stay with me during lunch?” He asks and you nod. “Just this once.”
The other men in the lumberyard understand why he’s always racing to get home. They understand why there’s no space in his life for work buddies or late night drinks at the bar. Logan’s in love. They see it in the way you two seem to be in your own little world as you sit on the hood of the car, yapping his ear off about the errands you’re going to run and the dinner you’re going to cook while he leans against the hood beside you, eating and listening with a content look in his face. “You don’t have to go through all that trouble, princess.” He tells you as he’s packing up his lunchbox.
“Well then, what will we have for dinner?” You tease as he moves to stand in front of you, leaning into you so he can kiss you softly, his hands firmly planted on the hood as you caress his bearded jaw.
“I was hoping for a dessert first type of evening.” He whispers, making your face grow warm as he mumbles into your neck, “Let me take you out for dinner.”
The idea of a night out so you can have a relaxing night in is quite appealing and you hum as his lips move to your collarbone. “What should I do until you get home then?” You ask, sighing as he bites your earlobe gently.
“Wait for me in bed.” He whispers, one of his hands smoothed down your back and he pulls you into him, pressing your chest into his own. “You don’t have to do anything else for me today, sweetheart.”
Logan was secluded, he wasn’t big on having drinking buddies, and there wasn’t much that he wanted in terms of things. With you, however, Logan was kind and doting and all he wanted was to keep you happy and satisfied, you were all that mattered. You were his little piece of heaven on Earth and he wasn’t going to allow anything to soil what you two shared, not in this lifetime.
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened
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neopuppy · 12 hours
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Agora Hills (M)
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pairing. step-dad Johnny x step-daughter female reader
genre. arrest me daddy officer AU, cop Johnny, angst, M/F, pwp, one shot
warnings. age gap(y/n: 18, Johnny: 38), y/n is manipulative(and has extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms), multiple hook ups, death mentioned, y/n dealing with the loss of her mother by acting out, peeping, boxer-brief snatching, side characters: Jaemin Jeno Jungwoo, this gets pretty nasty. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
word count. 16k+
now playing. Agora Hills//Doja Cat
smut warnings. dom/sub dynamics, masturbation, stepcest, loss of virginity, heavy on size difference, daddy kink/use of ‘daddy’ + pet names, dry(wet) humping, fingering, face fucking, face slapping, squirting, possessiveness, overstimulation, spitting, choking, handcuff use, multiple orgasms, sex in public, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, etc
—————————————-
There’s no denying how hard this year has been, each day feels more and more like a battle. It’s hard to wake up, hard to put a brush through your hair, hard to bother with putting away your laundry. Little things really, they feel meaningless, everything generally feels meaningless.
“Hey, it’s already half past noon and you haven’t eaten anything yet.”
Concern rings between each word, dragging your body to the side to blink your eyes open and peer over to where he stands. There’s those same eyes that droop at the corners, never bright or optimistic anymore. They used to hold a softness, love, adoration, never toward you romantically, but still enough to make you feel special. 
You are special to him though, that’s why he’s concerned. Even when he has to look away, maybe because you remind him too much of her. Of the woman you both loved more than anything, the loss you both continue to suffer from. 
“Not hungry.” You mutter, pulling your blanket on tighter as soft fabric rubs against your hips and sets off warmth between your chest.
He sighs, head knocking on the door frame. “You know, I won’t let you deteriorate, your mom would—“
“Mom’s not here.” You say, cutting him off. A small pang of guilt hits when he nods solemnly, chin tucked to his chest without looking at you again.
“Fine. Have it your way.” Letting go of your door handle, he shrugs and shakes his head. “I’ll leave my card and cash out on the counter if you change your mind and get hungry later. Have to get ready for work, I’ll be home late so don’t.. worry about me.”
You’d be lying if you said you won’t worry. You always worry. Always fear the thought of receiving a late night call that he didn’t make it, that he’s on his deathbed hooked up to life support leaving his fate in your hands. Instead you nod and barely raise your fingers out of your blanket to wave goodbye.
It’s always the same routine when he has these night shifts. Pester you about eating, about getting some fresh air, doing something productive with your free vacation time, just being a damn nuisance you don’t want to deal with. You have to get through it, act like you don’t care too much, keep up a calm facade despite the anxious way your heart begins to race.
It’s been weeks of planning, trying to figure out what it would take to make your sweet nurturing step-father finally snap. 
Jaemin: Swing by to get you tonight around 10?
Yeah. That should be late enough, and from the clues you’ve gathered, you know exactly where to go.
The sound of the shower turning on from the master bedroom alerts your ears, jumping out of bed and into your slippers to tiptoe down the hall and twist your mom’s key through the lock to allow yourself in. It’s lucky you’d found it mixed in with a bunch of her items, making it easy to pocket and hide in case you’d ever need it.
He’s already inside of the shower by the time you’ve rounded the corner and crouched down by the connected bathroom door. It gets steamy, but the glass still clears up enough to take in his long muscular legs, sleek lean back, thick arms curling up to run shampoo through his hair.
It’s different today, having to cover your mouth to hold in your gasp when you spot him leaned back against the wall. His eyes are shut tight, sharp eyebrows furrowed together frustratedly, arm jerking furiously. The fog clears up along the glass with each hit of water, making the view of his large hand stroking up and down his length vividly clear. 
To your surprise, he never brings anyone home. Many would consider him to be a young handsome eligible bachelor still, a good career, attractive face, fit body. You certainly wouldn’t be shocked if he decided to start dating again. The sad truth is you often find your step-father still mourning the loss you both took. He cries through the night, wakes up with swollen eyes and dark circles, he plays it off and puts on a smile for your sake but his pain is evident. 
It’s hard to watch him struggle. The way he pulls on his cock seems painful, writing his internal guilt with each whimper and groan that squeezes from his tucked in lips. He doesn’t want you to hear him, he doesn’t want to experience pleasure through his pain. Doesn't think he deserves it.
You wonder what brought this on, what set him off enough to finally break the silent celibacy pact you assume he’s held himself accountable to. Today’s different from the way he barely touches his cock whenever washing suds off his body, scrubbing himself clean in such a robotic way without any expression. 
Sliding onto your knees, you have to adjust the oversized boxers hanging from your hips, rolling them up tighter to squeeze around your middle. He hasn’t mentioned anything about his underwear going missing yet, hasn’t had the nerve to question you about the different items from his closet that he can’t recall seeing for weeks now. It’d be too weird to suspect his step-daughter of invading his privacy and personal belongings while at work. 
Johnny’s always been too nice to ever think you could do anything wrong. Not you, not with the angelic side of yourself you grace him with. It’s almost too easy messing with him, rolling around on his freshly washed sheets when he leaves for work, spraying his cologne on your pillows to feel closer to him.
He won’t say anything even if he notices a familiar print of his underwear peeking out from your pajama bottoms.
“Shit.” You murmur, pushing back on your legs to inconspicuously crawl your way out before he can exit the bathroom. Too fast to sneak out to take in the evident failure pulling his cheeks down into a frown.
Johnny’s lonely, he’s real lonely, and you can fix that. You want to fix that.
A knock rasps down your door minutes later, halting your hand from traveling past the waistband of your stolen boxers after burrowing back inside of your bed. “I’ll be heading out now, if you need anything I’m only a phone call away.” 
Staying silent for a moment, you decide to get up and listen at the door for his breathing. Keeping your movements light enough to not make the floor creak as you make your way over. His breath comes out evenly, fingers tapping a couple of times along the doorbed before he lets out a quiet sigh and turns to leave. 
It’s better for him to believe that you went back to sleep, lessen any possible suspicion, cover your ass if you ever fuck up and accidentally leave evidence. He’s too good at his job.
The cop car stays parked across the street from your house most days when he’s working a lot, not helping the ongoing joke you hear about how your step-dad does that on purpose to ward away the men who want to date you. For the most part it worked too, living by his rules to focus on your education throughout high school and not waste your time fucking around with teenage boys.
Times have changed though, and with this year long break you both agreed would be best for your mental health, you have gotten bored.
Beyond bored. 
Sneaking over to your window, you watch as he takes one last glance back at the house before getting inside of the car. He’s handsome as ever in that stupid pig uniform, the halster cinching his waist in further really accentuating his build.
Jaemin: Your step-dad’s not roaming the streets tonight by chance? 
Watching his car drive off you reply with an angel emoji, exclaiming how excited you are to get out.
“I’ll see you later Johnny.”
—————————————-
“Didn’t think you’d ever agree to going out with me.” Jaemin grins from ear to ear. Rounding his car to get the passenger door opened for you. 
“Don’t be so modest, you know I’m into you.” You say flirtatiously, settling into the car seat. His eyebrows raise, grabbing onto the roof of the car to duck his head inside. 
“You seem to be into a lot of guys.”
That’s true, you can’t lie about that. Opting to offer him a coy smile, you shrug and tap the tip of his nose. “And you’re at the top of that list.”
Scrunching his nose back at you, he nods acceptingly. “Not only that, but your dad—“
“Step dad.” You’re fast to correct, clearing your throat. “He’s not my father.”
“Right, that, well..” Jaemin stands up straight, cooling his hands off on his jeans from the hot car roof. “Isn’t he like, a cop?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“Thought you told Haechan last semester that you’re not allowed to date..” walking around, he gets into the driver seat and reaches over to buckle your seatbelt. “Didn’t you say that’s his rule? Your step dad?”
“You sure do have a lot of questions, Jaemin.”
“I’m not trying to piss off a cop.” He chuckles, gripping onto the steering wheel. “Silly if you ask me. You’re 18, he can’t expect you to stay abstinent until marriage.”
“Well he does.” 
“Oh.”
“And I don’t care.” Leaning over the middle, you grip onto his thigh. “Right now all I care about is you and me.”
Jaemin’s mouth falls open with a hidden smile, eyeing your hand inching up his thigh. “Someone’s eager.”
“Let’s go to Agora Hills.”
“What??” Snapping his head up, he stares at you with blown out wide eyes. “Oh I thought—“
“You thought wrong, let’s go.”
Slowly nodding, he releases the brake to pull out of your street. Shaking off his shock as he pulls onto the freeway toward the notorious spot up in the mountains. “Well, if I had known, I wouldn't have made a reservation for us at that new Italian pizza spot.”
“Not really hungry,” you shrug, gripping at his inner thigh. “Not for food anyway.”
Jaemin’s eyebrows raise all the way up, a grin spreading on his face as he steps down on the gas pedal and switches to the fast lane. “Don’t think I’ve ever made it out here this fast.”
Directing him to park off in the more secluded area, you smirk and push your way past him to the backseat. “Let’s not waste time.” You say with a wink over your shoulder at him. “I’m so wet already.”
“Fuck.” He practically howls, using the door to get out and climb into the backseat with you. “You really weren’t playing with me with all those slutty pictures, huh?”
“Want you so much.” You say huskily, climbing onto his lap before he can fully even settle into the backseat. “All I can think about.”
Jaemin’s state of shock can’t leave him fast enough, groping his palms up and down your sides. He grabs onto your hips and squeezes, hissing between his teeth. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Been waiting for you to be legal ever since I saw you last summer at my little bro’s party.”
That’s when it all started. Last summer when Jisung invited you to his graduation party. The group of guys you’d come to know as his older brother and college friends couldn’t take their perverse eyes off of you. The appeal of your innocence had struck a nerve for every single one of them, desperate to stay in touch with the forbidden fruit they knew better than to dare to take a bite of.
“You’ve been so good,” you hum, grabbing onto his bare biceps. Gripping the smooth soft skin between your digits. “So patient, waiting for me like such a good boy.”
Jaemin’s head falls back against the seat, front teeth exposed between his plump pink lips. Thick eyelashes fanning heavily over his lust-filled gaze. “You still a virgin?” He questions curiously, sliding his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. “Never heard a virgin talk like that..”
“I watch a lot of porn.” You say cheekily, running the tip of your nose against his. “And I’m so fucking horny.”
Jaemin’s throat bobs, hips jerking up under yours. “Fuck, you’re seriously something.”
To reaffirm that, you roll your hips down against his. Building up a fast and hard rhythm against his crotch. “Didn’t Jisung tell you about me? I gave him his first blow job.”
Letting out a howling laugh, he cups over your bra and squeezes your breasts. “Of course you did, that little fucker can’t believe he never mentioned it.”
“So greedy, wanted to keep me allll to himself.” You moan, wrapping around his built shoulders. “Fuck, that feels good.” Grinding down your hips faster, you fall into a rapid bouncing motion. Assisted by his large palms clutching your hips to rock you up and down his clothed hard-on even faster.
“Bet you can cum like this, nasty slut.” He pants between his teeth. Hammering his hips up to meet your middle with each slam against his cock. “Fuck you’re really dripping baby.”
The flimsy pajama shorts you snuck out in hardly do anything to conceal the thin material of underwear plastered to your cunt. Soaked through and pressed directly against Jaemin’s sweats as your shorts move to one side and fully expose your panties. “Making a mess all over me.”
Biting down hard on your lip, you nod against his forehead and swallow down throaty whimpers. “More more, gimme more!”
Jaemin slinks down into the backseat more, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. He pulls you to his chest and rams his hips up faster. The sound of your covered bodies slamming down on each other fills the car between groans and stuck inhales of breath. Digging your nails into his shoulders as the friction builds and rubs your underwear against your clit painfully. “Ah! T-that hurts!” You whine, not stopping your lower half from fucking dowm against the material of his drenched sweats. “You’re so big!”
“Fuck, ah yeah.” He grunts, reaching lower to bury his hands inside the back of your shorts and grab onto your ass. “G-gonna fill you up so fucking good baby. Make you take my cock like a real whore.”
“Ah, please please.” Scrabbling at his chest, you circle your hips down with rabid need. Pressing your clothed clit right against his throbbing length to reach your orgasm. Sucking at his bottom lip, he concentrates on rolling you up and down on his size. Jerking up each time your pulse against his cock.
“Fuck yeah baby, just like that.” He nearly drools, shoving your shirt up with one hand to place his palm against your stomach. “Faster!”
Getting his other hand on your lower back, he ruts you against him vigorously. Mouth hung open as pre-cum drips out of his cock and makes his boxers sticky. 
“Ah!” Falling against him, you tremble and wrap your weak hold onto his thick biceps. “I’m—I’m—“
Jaemin sits the both of you up straight again, jabbing his cock between your ruined panties. “Good fucking whore.”
“Fuck, ahh!”
Shaky hands run up his shoulders to his neck. Latching your lips onto his for a kiss that turns hungry within seconds. Seeking out each other’s taste through your release spilling out onto his groin. He licks at every crevice, sucking your tongue to steal your moan as he continues to fuck your clothed cunt after you’ve finished.
“S’too—“
“Shut the fuck up.” He spits, more aggressive as he slaps his hands down on your ass and throws you down against his cock. “Make me cum, virgin slut.”
Lights blare into the rearview window followed by the sound of rubble and rocks under rubber tires coming to a stop nearby. The bang of a door and heavy footsteps play between the sounds of your heavy panting, mixed moans and tongues gliding against each other. 
“Shit babe, stop. It’s the cops.” He says in a breathy panic, gripping onto your hips with extra strength to stop your grinding. “Fuck, what the fuck.”
“Open up.” A tap tap tap hits against the backseat window, freezing both of you in place. “Police.”
“Shit, shit, oh my God.” Shoving you off, he quickly readjusts his hardened length. Swiping a palm down his face to clean off the sweat dripping down from his hairline. Sitting up and clearing his throat, he rolls down the window with a shaky smile. “Officer.”
A familiar face pops into view, bending down with his arms rested against the car window. “Do you know that you’re on private prop—“
“Hi daddy.”
Johnny’s face goes near white when you sit up behind Jaemin’s broad frame. Speech cut off by his loosened jaw hanging his mouth open.
“Ah, fuck.” Jaemin whispers under his breath, scratching at his neck nervously. “Officer, I’m sorry, I didn’t see any signs.. it’s so dark out here.”
“Get out of the car.” Johnny points at you, directing you toward the door at your side. “Now.”
“Okay.” Hiding a smile, you press to Jaemin’s side to leave a kiss against his ear. “Sorry about this, I’ll text you.”
Too afraid to speak, he nudges you away and frantically nods. “Just go, oh my god.”
“Ugh.” Rolling your eyes, you slide out of the backseat to be greeted by your step-father half-sat on the trunk of Jaemin’s car. “Didn’t know you parole the hills too.”
“I don’t normally.” He says much too calmly for your liking. “Officer that usually does has been on leave because his wife just gave birth. That’s why I’ve been working more this last week.”
“Oh.” You knew that, of course. Having stood in the hallway sneakily while he went over his extra hours with his lead. “I had no idea this was private property.”
Pushing off the car, he hooks onto your elbow. “Let’s get you home.”
“What?” Ripping out of his hold, you shove him away. “I’m on a date.”
“It’s 1 in the morning.” Deep lines resembling whiskers appear on his cheeks, sucking at the backs of his teeth. “Now,” opening up the passenger seat door to his cop car, he tips his chin toward you. “Get in.”
“Such bullshit.” You mutter, plopping into the cop car petulantly. 
“Language.” Slamming the door shut, he rounds to the driver side, tapping the drunk of Jaemin’s car. “Get out of here boy.”
“Yes sir!” He calls out, running back to the front of the car to get his engine warmed up.
“Pussy.” You scoff to yourself, turning your torso to glare at your step-father. “Thanks for ruining my night.”
“Last I checked, you’re not even supposed to be out this late.” Reaching over to click in your seatbelt, he begins to drive off. “Since when do you sneak out past curfew? Is this something new I should look forward to now that you’re an adult?”
Johnny’s jaw twitches, tapping along the steering wheel without taking his eyes off the road. Tension between the passenger and driver seat grows thicker by the second, forcing your hands to ball up into tight fists.
“Are you mad at me?” You ask quietly, keeping your gaze lowered to your balled up hands. 
“No, I’m not mad.” He sighs, gripping the wheel tighter. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh.” Clearing his throat, he hums and squints. “Are you dating him?”
“No.”
“Right.”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.” He huffs, exiting the freeway that takes you back home. “You snuck out behind my back to meet some guy that isn’t your boyfriend, why would I be mad.”
“Well you have no right to be mad, you’re not my fath—“
“I’m not your father.” Johnny finishes for you, pulling into the same empty spot on the street out in front of your house where he always parks the cop car when he’s working overtime. “But I am your legal guardian.”
“I’m eighteen.” 
“I’m aware, you haven’t gone a day without reminding me.” He smiles softly, turning to face you. “Listen, I’m happy to see you out of your room, living life. Even if it means finding you at Agora Hills of all places with some boy.”
“He’s 21.” You mention to annoy him, unable to catch any sign of change in his calm expression. 
“Yes, I saw his drivers license.” He informs, tight-lipped. “You still live under my roof and therefore must adhere to my rules.”
“I don’t want to.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you slump into the passenger seat. “Your rules are dated and overbearing.”
“Okay, which of my rules would you like to negotiate to change?”
“A ten o’clock curfew is ridiculous, I’m not a child anymore Johnny.”
“It is a bit late right now.” Motioning to the time on the car's dash, he runs a hand through his hair. A anxious habit of tugging at the ends. “How about midnight?”
“That’s still too early.”
“That’s two extra hours.” He says firmly. “And if you’re going to be out at these late hours with 21 year old men, I’d like to meet them first. For your safety, I’m not asking for anything outlandish here.”
“I already told you, he’s just some guy I’m fucking.” Sitting up, you make sure to emphasize the end of your sentence. “Well, would be fucking right now if you hadn’t interrupted.”
Johnny visibly swallows, tucking his bottom lip under the top row of his teeth to not respond abruptly with any anger. “You can’t expect me to be a virgin until I get married, Johnny. I’m an adult now, I have to go out and explore! It’s part of growing up!”
“Midnight, and no later. If you plan to stay out any later, I at least want you to come back home where I know you’re safe. And if I’ve already met him, he can even come over.”
“To my room?”
“With the door open.”
“Come on man!” Smacking the compartment between you, you lean closer to his face. “Would you rather me run out to Agora Hills every night behind your back to get railed in the backseat of some guy’s car? Or at least come home where you know my whereabouts?”
Pursing his lips tight, he leans away from you. “I have to get back to work, please, don’t sneak out again. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”
Giving him a look that could kill, you grab onto the door handle to exit. 
“By the way,” he looks over you much too fast. Turning away, showing off his perfect sharp jawline. “You can do much better than some 21 year old loser that’s going to take you out to Agora Hills of all places.”
“Whatever.” Shoving the door open with too much force, you kick it shut like a total brat. “You’re ruining my life!” Storming to the front door, you glare at him over your shoulder for one more look.
Fuck he always looks so criminally good in his stupid uniform. Another night with your vibrator attached to your clit for hours until you go near blind would have to get you through this, again.
Flipping him off, you slam the door shut behind you and make the walk of shame to your bedroom with clenched thighs. Arguing with your step-dad always managed to get your blood boiling, heat churning through your stomach. He never argues back, never raises his voice at you, hardly ever even displays much of a reaction.
It’s sickening how watching this big hunk of an authoritarian man act so weak with you always gets you going. Crawling back to your bed, you search for the dildo you purchased using his account to ensure he’d see it in his purchase history. Johnny never said anything, he never does, practically allows you to walk all over him. Especially ever since your mother passed away. As fucked up as it is to take advantage of his kind heart, you can’t feel bad. 
Turning to face your window, you wait for the sound of his engine to exit the street. Sighing to yourself as the buzz between your thighs gets louder and you turn on the highest setting. 
You’re going to need it after that.
—————————————-
“So what is this? I thought you were dating Jaemin.”
“Dating?” You question with raised eyebrows full of sarcasm. 
“You know what I mean..” he remarks equally as sarcastically. Leaning against the hood of his car. His baby really. 
Everyone knows about Jeno’s legendary sports car that he spends hours working on. The exterior beams shinier than any cheek highlighter could ever with the amount of time he spends waxing it. Endless summers of working odd jobs that hired underage teenagers with a permit for some chump change finally garnered him enough to set down a decently size down payment. 
The ridiculous sports car zooming around your town always seemed to piss off the local police, most specifically your step-father.
“I want you to take me to Agora Hills.” You say cheerfully, tapping at his thick arms crossed over his chest. 
“Pfft, I don’t go up there.”
“Why not?” You pout, making him roll his eyes.
“So your daddy can prowl my ass and slap me with a ticket? No thanks.” Jeno scoffs, grabbing your wrists before you’re able to smack his biceps again.
“Don’t call him that.” Unable to tug yourself out of his grip, you lean in closer to his chest. “He’s my step-dad.”
“Narc is what he is, I swear that dick head pulls me over at least every other week.” Jeno grunts, tugging your arms down to pull you closer to him, chest to chest. “We can go to my place, sneak through the back. My parents won’t know you’re there.”
“Nooo, I wanna go to Agora Hills.” You whine, continuing to pout with a stomp of your foot. “Wanna suck you off in the backseat of your fuck-mobile.”
Jeno’s eyebrow raises, half-laughing with a curious glint in his gaze. “Never heard that one before.”
“You’ve also never given me a taste before.” With a cunning smirk, you press in closer. Teasing his chin with a flick of your tongue. “Stop being so selfish.”
“What’s with you and that spot? I don’t get the big deal.”
“Every girl wants to lose their virginity up at Agora Hills.”
Jeno seems awestruck for a moment, nudging his nose against your cheek. “You’re a virgin?”
“Did Jaemin tell you that I’m not?”
A pleased smirk slowly creeps onto his face, lowering his gaze to your lips. “If every girl dreams of getting fucked out there, I can only imagine how often you dream about getting fucked in the backseat of my car.”
“Let’s go.”
—————————————-
“I like your lips.” Jeno leans back against his seat after parking. Slowly dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lip gloss lathered mouth. “Bet they’d look really nice, all swollen and red, wrapped up pretty around my cock.”
Smoothing a hand down his stomach, he runs his bony long digits down the zipper of his jeans. “Do you like sucking cock?”
He’s already hard, rubbing over the bulge that’s pressed against his crotch. Lazily teasing at himself as you check him out and your eyes bounce over his lower half. “I haven’t.. done it too much.”
“Pftt..” his tongue clicks, tracing the outline of his member along the material of his pants. “That’s a shame.. I like girls with experience.”
“I like to learn.” You say abruptly, dropping your chin shyly. “I may not be experienced but you can teach me how to do whatever you like..”
“Are you asking me to train you?” He asks smuggly, smirking to one side. “Train you on how to suck my cock?”
“If that’s what you want..”
Jeno seems pleased by your response, eyes bouncing and sparkling with intrigue. Seemingly enjoying how embarrassed and humiliated you’ve become from his questions. “Show me your tits.” He says flatly, leaning deeper into his seat. 
Anything Jeno says to you right now has to be done. You’re here with a mission and it’s to make sure you get caught, even if it means taking off your top. Throwing it aside, you sit up on the passenger seat on your knees. Dragging your hands up your stomach to cup under your bra-clad breasts. Shoving your cleavage up together, bouncing your perky mounds of fat for his enjoyment.
Jeno reaches out to land a slap on one of your tits, humming and moving your hand out of his way to cradle one of your breasts. Sweeping his thumb down, he presses roughly against your nipple. Smoothing his fingers over your chest to squeeze and pinch the hardened bud through the fabric of your bra. “You have great tits.” He notes, all while focused on your chest. His other hand reaches out so that he can massage both of your breasts. “Nice and big.”
It’s hot in his car now, arching your back forward for him to enjoy your chest more. Nipples tugged at, lowering the cups of your bra underneath your tits so that he can properly flick and squeeze at them. Underwear grows uncomfortably damp pressed against your core, gripping your thighs together harshly to stop yourself from bursting out a tunnel of hot liquid. “Like how I play with your pretty titties?”
“Uh-huh..” you mutter quietly, looking down at how large and veiny his hands look while squeezing your fleshy fat. Digging the tips of his fingers into your tits as if you’re some type of stress ball.
“Bet they’d look so good milking my cock.” He hisses between his teeth. “You wet for me now, pretty girl?”
“Y-yes,” you nod eagerly. Throat dry, voice shaky to hold in your moans. He continues to pinch, rolling your nipples between his fingers.
“Bet your wet pussy’s throbbing, aching to feel my cock.” He says, hands dropping back to his crotch. Inhales of air fight your dry throat, watching as his hand drags down his zipper once again. Tented large against his tight jeans, he sits up straight and slowly begins to free himself; sucking in a deep breath as he gingerly pulls his cock out.
Heat flushes down your chest, struggling to take your next breath. He strokes once, twice, three times to spread around the precum gathered at his slit. Veiny cock pulsating against his palm with each drag, the glistening head so flushed it looks near red. 
“You’re really.. fucking big.” You drool, spit pooled all around your tongue. “I always thought you would be, with how cocky you are.”
“You talk too much, you know that?” Jeno scoffs, flicking your chin. “Show me that mouth is useful for something more than yapping.” Pinching your chin, he shoves his pants down lower and settles back with his hands behind his head. “You wanted to suck my dick? Start sucking, and be careful to not use your teeth.”
Dropping your jaw open with a thrilled nod, you bend over to get your mouth positioned above his erect cock. Drooling for a taste with your tongue lolled out over your bottom lip.
Gripping around the base of his size, he slides his other hand into the back of your hair and grips tightly. “Keep those pretty lips open nice and wide for me baby. Lay your cheek down on my thigh like this.” Pulling on your hair, he angles your face to the side so that he can watch the tip of his dick drag along your upper lip. Smearing your glittering lip gloss all over his already shiny cockhead. 
“You look so fucking cute like this.” He grins, biting back a groan when you start to flick your tongue out against his slit. “Wanna see you take every inch.”
The angles not the best for your neck, especially positioned in his car to not jab your stomach with his shift. You open wide for him to begin feeding his length inside of your mouth. Eyebrows furrowing once he gets a few inches in and you feel a painful stretch pull at your lips. Pushing in past the gagging sounds that reverberate around him, he aids the glide with a press of his hand to the back of your neck. “Come on pretty, take all of it.”
Already taking in loud deep breaths through his nose, he grits his teeth and releases the base of his size. Sliding the last few inches in despite how you choke and tighten up around him. It feels too good to stop now, fucking spit out past your mouth with his thick cock filling you up. The tip meeting his palm laid out on the back of your neck. “Sucking dick like a pornstar.” He rasps. Deep tone falling even lower, husky and thick with horny lust.
Gathering a bundle of your hair, he pushes against your stuffed mouth once more. Testing out how much your gag reflex can handle with half of his dick already resting heavy in the back of your throat. The extra gurgle of spit that spills out around him allows his hips to speed up and thrust in and out. Using the extra lubrication to thrust again and again and again. Holding you down roughly as a throaty deep groan exits his lips and you suffocate on his cock. Lurching around the massive intrusion, flailing your hands and slapping his thighs.
“Holy fuck that’s so good!” Jeno cries out. Lifting his hips off of the car seat as he bottoms out inside of your mouth once again. Tears spring free from your eyes, panting heavily through your nose. The biggest cock you’ve ever swallowed fucks your throat hard enough to leave it’s shape behind. The heady scent of tangy ball sweat and soap fills your head, forgetting that you’re here to piss off your step-father as your hair gets pulled at roughly once more.
Wet gagging fills up the car, the sound of skin clashing against skin emitting with the forceful thrusts he delivers. Cum-filled sack slapped against your cheek each time further solidifying what a whore you are right now. 
Jeno throws his head back letting out another howled moan. Holding your head down and grinding his cock in your throat with circling hips. Agonizing seconds go on like minutes, and all you can do is swallow and heave around him. Making the biggest mess of drool and tears beneath his ass. The resistance to gag again becomes weaker the longer he keeps you there, nose pressed up against the stubble of pubic hair left from shaving a few days ago. 
Finally hauling your mouth off pours out an obscene amount of spit. Drenching his thighs and groin with tons of it as you continue to hold in your gag and cough, gasping for air with wide teary eyes. “J-Jeno—“
“What a fucking good cock slut you are.” He sneers, brutally grasping your cheeks. His fingers dig into the hollows, shaking your head side to side. “Tried to lie to me, sucking dick like it’s oxygen.” He scoffs, releasing your cheeks with a wet slap to your face. Not too hard but enough to shock you, turn your neck to one side. “If I’d known you could take cock like this..”
He whistles, cupping your face with both hands to look at him. “Look so pretty like this.” Picking the wads of spit clinging to your chin, his palm rubs all over your face. Mascara stained down your cheeks, lips dried of gloss and swollen from painfully stretching out.
Smacking at your cheek again, he pulls your bottom lip open for your tongue to hang out. Kissing at the backs of his teeth as he presses down the center of your tongue. “Fucking nasty.” 
Without another second to waste, he shoves your head back down and kicks his hips up. Lining his cock up to your mouth with ease, no guided direction needed. Fucking deep into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat again. Swallowing around his cock sliding through your wet mouth, pulsating on your tongue, trapping your air to the point of feeling lightheaded. His hands slap down on the back of your head, pushing his hips up with violent thrusts.
“Throat taking me so fucking good.” Jeno’s teeth grind. Hips falling back down to the seat with wet splats only to thrusts even rougher into your mouth. Heavy sack slapping your face harder than before. “Slutty throat, just another hole for me to use and ruin.”
A loud broken groan leads to him pulling you off, smacking his fat wet cock down on your cheek. Shoving your messed up hair out of your face to begin dragging his long girth down the center of your nose.
Lights streak through the car window, an alarm ripping you both out of your horny daze. Jerking through your spine as you cough under his length and squint up at the bright’s illuminating his face.
“Fuck. Shit. Get off of me!” Jeno curses, shoving himself away from you with his hands pushing against the backseat. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have come up here with you.”
Your step-dad’s timing is really something. Not that you planned everything perfectly to make sure he always finds you before anything can actually escalate and go too far between you and whatever guy you’ve managed to lure up here.
No, that would be diabolical wouldn’t it? Your step-father would be the last to believe that any of this could possibly be on purpose. He loves you too much to believe negatively of you. That’s what eats away at you sometimes. He’s just too damn nice to you to the point that it drives you insane. Because you want him—no, you need him to be anything but nice to you. Your mother would have scolded him for spoiling you all of the time, for accepting what an insolent brat you’ve been ever since her funeral.
Knock knock knock taps at the backseat window on Jeno’s side. You ignore it and continue to search for your top, knowing this is likely where your night ends.
“It’s your dad.” He says under his breath, pushing down the window button to open. “Officer.”
“Lee.” He sounds calm and easy as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary, no tension or frustration there. It’s infuriating, he should sound fucking pissed. His head pops into view, leaning over the car window with a soft smile and nod in your direction. “Hello, again.”
“Daddy.” You smile coquettishly. Wiping your chin off with the back of your hand and leaning over Jeno to get closer to him. “Is there a problem, officer?”
“Get out of the car.” Johnny says deeply. Tone falling into a serious one before tapping the hood of the vehicle and pulling away to stand up straight. “Right now.”
Jeno snickers quietly, nodding his chin for you to exit his car. “Whatever.” You mumble, using extra force to slam his backseat door shut. 
“It’s 1am, you know?” Your step-father asks, eyes dragging down your frame. His eyebrows furrowed together as he takes in how crumpled and strewn your t-shirt looks. How obscenely tiny and tight your shorts are. How he’s never seen your eyes and lips this swollen before. The light makeup you had on earlier ruined and smeared down your cheeks. “What did I tell you about coming out here?”
“Oh come on, you want me to be the only freak in this town that never visits Agora Hills? So I can be ostracized by every girl when I start school up again? What if I want to join a sorority?!” You complain, huffing past him with a roll of your eyes. “God, you seriously expect me to be known as some damn loser too depressed to ever go out ever since my mom died.”
Johnny grabs a hold of your arm before you reach the passenger door of his vehicle, spinning you around to face him. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried the other kids in school will judge you for being.. sad?”
“I’m not a kid!” Shouting at him, you stomp angrily. Further proving how immature and volatile you still handle your emotions. “I’m eighteen!!”
Taking a deep breath and a step back, he nods and releases your arm. “Yes, I know.” His eyebrows wrinkle together, rubbing at his cheeks hard enough to drag the aged skin down. Pulling at his face with a frustrated sigh. “I’m doing my best.”
“You think you are? You think this is your best?” You poke at him, stepping into his space to look up at him. Having to crane your neck to keep direct eye contact. “You can’t even bring yourself to punish me daddy.”
Johnny staggers for a moment, cheeks hallowed, droopy eyes darkening for a flash of a second. 
“I—I don’t want to punish you.” He whispers. Dropping his hands down to his hips defeatedly. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Then maybe you’re not fit to be a father. Certainly not my father.” You say snidely, turning your back to him to get inside of his cop car.
Johnny watches you fold your arms over your chest, slamming your back into the passenger seat. Shivering at the sound of the car door rattling shut from the forceful impact you use to shut it. If he was stronger, he’d be able to say something, to do something about your behavior. 
Instead he opens the passenger door to open up the glove compartment to retrieve a pack of tissues. He won’t ask anything, he won’t even speculate or allow himself to imagine what could have ruined your mascara like this. He dabs your cheeks clean instead, leaving the rest of the tissues on your lap for you to use before buckling your seatbelt in and rounding the car to drive you home.
You’re right, he’s not fit to be a father, especially not a widowed one who's been deprived of the touch of another for months now. He can’t even figure out how to deal with his own morbid thoughts, the sad empty black hole that’s formed in his heart. How is he supposed to do what’s best for you? And what is best for you exactly...
Can’t be the thoughts he shoves aside that keep him up at night. The quiet things he envisions when his eyes finally fall shut. The way he buries his face into your basket of dirty laundry, spends extra time folding everything up for you just so he can vividly imagine what you’d look like in all of the different pairs of underwear he washed for you.
He’s only surprised the spirit of your mother hasn’t stricken him to suffer an eternity in purgatory yet..
—————————————-
“Oh, you’re not working today?”
Johnny’s head lifts from the couch, his sleepy eyes blinking a few times before unblurring the image of you in nothing but his boxers and a baggy old tshirt of his.
“I’m off today.” He mutters quietly, tight-lipped as he looks you over again. “Where did you find that?”
Making your way to the couch, you pull on the hem of his shirt. Scrunching up the worn down fabric between your fingers and tugging. “Oh this? I think it got mixed in with my laundry a few months back.” With a smile you plop down right next to him. Avoiding the massive empty space on the couch you could have taken up, instead nestling into his side. “What should we watch?”
He frowns, not wanting to question why you’re wearing a pair of his tattered checkered print boxers. The same way your mother often would in the past, along with his old band shirts.. 
You probably just miss her is all. He misses her too, every hour and minute of his life. Not that seeing you resemble her almost down to a tea makes him feel any better, only consumed by guilt as he steals another look at you.
“Dad?” You speak up, wrapping around his arm to alert him. “You’re zoning out again.”
Again, yes. He does that a lot these days.
“Sorry, uhm, your choice sweetie. Been working so much these days I’m not even sure what’s new on tv.”
“Good thing for you, all I do is watch TV.” You grin, cuddling into his side more. Draping your head and neck along his shoulder.
Johnny’s used to it, you’ve always been rather touchy with him. He doesn’t mind it at all, always took pride in how comfortable you felt around him. He’d never want to make you feel any other way. More than honored to be referred to as your dad when you introduce him, he hums and smiles. Leaning back against the couch cushion with his half shut eyes. “Nothing too scary, I don’t want you staying up having nightmares all night again.”
“Oh come onnnn dad I was like thirteen!!” You whine, slapping his chest. “Besides, you’d let me sleep with you if I got scared, right? Just like back then.” You add with a sneaking smile, nuzzling in even closer.
Your mom had seemed slightly annoyed back then when you came into their room crying during the middle of the night. You’d climbed between them in bed and curled into Johnny’s front, wrapping your small arms around him. He’d never known what it was like to be a father until he had the chance to help raise you. Even now he’s not sure he’s really doing this right..
Ignoring how warm and small you feel pressed to his side, he clears his throat.
“That boy last night..” he says softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Do you like this one?”
A playful glint in your gaze finds his look of confusion. Directing the remote toward his face, you smile. “I like something about him a whole lot, more than any other boy.”
“Is he—this one, your boyfriend?”
“None of them are my boyfriend.” Turning toward him to face him better, you lay a hand against his chest. “None of them really deserve to be my boyfriend.”
It’s normal to experiment and make experiences to learn what you like, what you’re looking for. He has to bite his tongue to keep that to himself. It’s not actually any of his business who you end up forming a relationship with; not unless that boy wants to make it his business. Pursing his lips, he nods firmly, changing his focus back to the tv to drop this topic.
“Besides, Jaemin, Jeno.. they’re not exactly my type.” You add with a flirty tone. “Like Lana sang, I got a taste for men that’s older.”
Johnny’s spine freezes at that, not wanting to engage you anymore. “Should probably find something to watch before it gets too late.”
“What about you daddy?” You practically squeak, crawling your digits up his chest. “You haven’t tried to date at all since mom passed. I wouldn’t judge you for dating someone younger.. I know men have needs.”
Taking a quick hold of your hand, he has to control himself from crushing your palm in his. A serious gaze silently warning you before clearing his throat. “I really have no interest in dating anyone else. Losing your mother has been one of the biggest most unforeseeable losses I’ve ever experienced. No one will ever match up to her for me.”
A look of disappointment paints across your face, turning your lips downward as you slowly nod. “No one?”
“No one.” Johnny says between gritted teeth, releasing your hand. “Let’s watch something already, alright? I need to catch up on sleep tonight.”
The same solemn pout stays on your face even after finding a movie to watch. Some cheesy romcom that Johnny can’t help to think your mom would have loved, you always would spend your weekends watching them together with her. Now you only have him, it’s only normal that you’re acting up more than usual. You always were a good girl, never disobeyed your mother’s rules..
He can’t let you walk down the wrong path, it’s not what she would have wanted for you. Getting caught in the backseat of random boys cars up at damn Agora Hills of all places. She’d be let down, likely punish you and ban your phone privileges for weeks..
He can’t do that to you though. Not when he’s hurting this much and knows inside of his heart that you can only be hurting so much more.
At least he’ll be able to keep an eye on you if you do sneak out there again anytime soon. The one privilege he has over your life as a cop on duty, to at least stop you from trespassing and breaking any laws. 
These thoughts riddle him more and more to the point of exhaustion. Lightly snoring halfway into the movie before the lead actors can even share their first kiss. The sound of his huffed breaths between soft snores catches your ear, gingerly picking your head up from his shoulder to look at him.
He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. High sculpted cheekbones, beautiful long brown eyes, his straight nose and jawline sharp enough to cut through glass. And his lips, his thick pouty lips that linger through your mind day and night. They tease and taunt each time he talks to you, whether he’s tucking in his bottom lip or speaking with extra emphasis on his juicy pout. You can’t stop dreaming about what they’d feel like against yours, how soft and yet powerful a kiss from your step-dad could be..
Hovering your fingers near the tendrils of hair that have fallen over his forehead, you slowly ease them back. Stroking through his scalp softly much like your mother used to when Johnny would come home late from working, exhausted and resting on her lap, lulled to sleep so easily. 
He can’t really believe that no one will ever peak his curiosity or make his heart pound again? He’s too young to live so miserably.. to never love again. A push in the right direction is all he needs, someone to set off alarms inside of him that have stayed dormant for months. If anyone can make him happy again, it’s you.
You can fulfill that emptiness in his chest, bring butterflies back to life in his stomach, give him a sense of worth to take care of somebody else..
He stirs after a bit, blinking slowly, reaching to wipe drool away from the corners of his lips. Tired droopy eyes failing to stay open when he sees you still by him. “Fell asleep, sorry.”
“It’s okay, you’re tired. We can go to bed.”
“Sorry.” He mouths again, groaning as he sits up and you latch onto his arm to help him stand.
“You don’t have to apologize for being tired. You’ve been working really late.”
“Mmm… we both have been up too late these days, haven’t we?” Johnny stops at his bedroom door. Leaning against the wall with a stern raised eyebrow. “Should I expect to catch you out past curfew again?”
“Curfew doesn’t matter anymore daddy.” You smile sweetly, poking his chest. “I’m an adult now.”
He frowns for only a second, looking away as a deep exhausted sigh exits his mouth. “Might be corny to hear, but you’ll always be a little sweet girl to me.”
He isn’t watching to see the sheer look of disappointment dragging your smile away. Having to bite down on your teeth to contain your annoyance, you force an amused smirk. “Your little girl? Will I always be yours?”
Johnny’s tired sleep-ridden gaze trails upward, blinking away from your lips to your sparkling awaiting eyes. Pressing the side of his head to the door, he shrugs and nods. “Of course sweetie, for as long as you’ll need me. I’ll forever be indebted to you.”
It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but it’s enough. Reaching for his waist, you slink your arms through to wrap around him. Smashing your cheek to his chest for a warm hug. “You mean everything to me daddy, you’re the only reason I’m still here.”
There’s more implication behind your words than he’d prefer to fully understand. Floating hands hover over your back, slowly shutting his eyes as he succumbs and squeezes you close to himself. Maybe this is why he lets you get away with everything, your mom would berate him for it. Say that he was far too easy on you, all it took was one cute little smile from you and he’d be wrapped around your finger. He just wanted to be a good father figure for you, that’s all..
“I’ve been having nightmares again.” You whisper, rubbing your face against his chest. “Like before..”
“Like before?” 
After your mother had passed, he heard you crying in the middle of the night. Pushing your cracked door fully open to find you curled up in bed shaking and wracked by sobs..
Johnny had held you and tried to comfort you as you wailed, screamed your cries and clutched at him desperately. It was the hardest few weeks he ever had to endure. Staying up for countless hours to make sure you eventually would get some sleep. You shared with him eventually that you’d see her everytime you tried to sleep. Met with the visual of your mother whenever your eyes would fall shut. 
He didn’t know what to do back then other than hold you and repeat that everything would be okay, he’d always be here for you.
“Can I sleep with you?” You ask against his chest, sliding your hands down to his waist. Johnny shivers under your touch, batting his eyes open.
“In my room?..”
“Please daddy, I don’t want to be alone tonight. I feel.. lonely.” 
Between fighting off how exhausted he is and the pathetic sad look on your face, he sighs. Losing the ability to keep his back straight and shoulders broad. He rubs up and down your spine and nods. “I can sleep on the floor.”
The look on your face morphs in less than a second, from distressed to furious. You push away, quickly wiping at your wet eyes. “Actually, it’s okay. I’m being dramatic.”
“Hu—what?” Johnny grabs at the door frame to stand up straight. Shaking his head to be more alert.
“You need to sleep good tonight, you have work tomorrow.” Tight lipped, you force a smile and take a few steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
—————————————-
“What are you doing here?” Wiping a cloth down his chest, the tall blond cleans the stains of oil and dirt. Mixing his sweat with the mess that working on his car has created on his long torso. He squints at you standing by the end of his driveway, the sun going down behind you making it harder for him to really get a good look at you.
Such a shame that he can’t appreciate the cute summer dress you planned just for today, how you spent over an hour doing your hair, the new lipgloss you used to make your lips shine and pop. 
“Didn’t your daddy tell you to stay away from me?” Jungwoo smirks, tossing the used towel on top of the hood of his car.
“Wanted to see your pretty car, you’ve been working so hard on it all week.” You say flirtatiously, moving closer to hug the driver door. Leaned against his classic Cadillac like a vixen straight out of a model car show. 
“My pretty car,” he chuckles, stretching his arms up to show off how defined his stomach muscles are. “You mean my pristine mint condition 1959 series 62 cherry red Cadillac?”
“Yeah, that.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you round the car to poke his navel. “When are you taking me out?”
“You’re hilarious.” Jungwoo shoves your hand away, nodding his chin to your house down the street. “What? Daddy’s on duty or something?”
“Who cares.”
“Last time he saw you around me, he waved handcuffs in my face and told me to keep my distance if I don’t want to wake up with my car impounded.” Grabbing onto your wrist, lifts an eyebrow. “You might have some corruption kink, but no pussy is worth losing my car over.”
“I’d give you more than just my pussy.” You lie, scooting back to press your ass against the hood of his car. “Come on, he’s out of town. Now’s probably one of our only chances.”
Jungwoo grins, stroking up your lotioned smooth calves to your knees. “When’s he come back?”
“Late tomorrow, but we can’t do anything at my place.. he has security cameras.”
“That’s not a problem.” Jungwoo shrugs, pushing your thighs open. “That why you came over here all pretty? Smelling all nice for me.”
“We can go out to the hills, I know you just moved out here but it’s pretty common.” Pushing your thighs open more, you gather your dress to show off your pretty baby pink lace panties. Uncomfortable as hell, but they spark his interests, caressing up your inner thighs softly with a hum. “Everyone goes out to Agora to fuck..”
“Yeah? To fuck?” 
Your step-dad had complained about how rundown your neighborhood had become in the last few years. Allowing any old trash to move in. He certainly was not a fan of your newest neighbor Jungwoo Kim, rolling down the street with his obnoxiously loud engine revving up loud enough to shake each house he drove by. Johnny wouldn’t stop complaining about him for the rest of that day, throwing out comments to you that it’d be best if you avoid ‘men like that’. If only he had any idea that all you wanted after that was to do the complete opposite.
“Fine, I gotta take a quick shower.” Licking at his lips, he swipes a thumb over your clothed slit. “Come by to get you in an hour.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
—————————————-
“So, Agora Hills? I thought shit like this only existed in stupid sitcoms.” Jungwoo laughs, setting his car in park at the top of the hill overlooking the entire town. 
That’s the point, someone decided to claim this large space of land up on this hill as a place to lose your virginity. To enter adulthood, to check off the right of passage that changes one from sexually inexperienced to a lush. It’s been known as the spot for as long as you can remember, that’s the only reason Johnny’s even aware of what takes place up here.
He used to venture with different girls up to Agora Hills throughout his high school and college years. He can’t really blame you for doing the same, it’s simply the way things go here.
“It’s nice up here.” You smile, peering out of the front windshield at the city lights that burn bright from this high. The greenery that creates more shadows in the dark. The starry sky dimly lighting up the area around you. “The energies different, right?”
Jungwoo bites on his bottom lip, leaning over the front seat of his car with ease since the old model has nothing to stop him from getting closer to you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, presses in to drag his nose down your cheek. “It’d be nicer if we were fucking.”
Plush lips find yours, using his tongue right away to lick between and garner access inside of your mouth. Freshly washed up after working on his car all day, he wafts the aroma of body wash and clean soap smell around you. Minty tongue still carrying traces of mouthwash. Jungwoo’s not interested in wasting time or getting to know you. Only in one way really.
Johnny was right to tell you to keep your distance from men like him. That’s why you had to go for him. In less than a minute he’s already swiping between your thighs, cupping over your lace covered mound. Shoving his tongue deep inside of your mouth with more confidence and aggression than Jaemin and Jeno had initially. 
He’s older(25 to be exact), Johnny hates that. His car is absurdly noisy, Johnny hates that. He blasts music loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood early in the morning every weekend, Johnny really fucking hates that.
“Jungwoo,” you moan softly, pushing at his chest. “S-slow down a little.”
“Pft, come on. Don’t give me that shit, you’ve been teasing me for weeks.” He mutters against your lips, biting on your lower one to let you know how annoyed he is. 
“Please, I’m—I’m a virgin.” You whisper feebly. 
“What??” Jungwoo pulls back, ragged and out of breath. Lips all pink and swollen from kissing you roughly. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
“N-no, my step-dad’s really protective..”
“The cop.”
“Mhmm..”
Shaking off an annoyed laugh, he rubs the top of your thigh closest to him. “I hate using condoms. Not gonna fuck you with one your first time either if you’re expecting some kind of princess treatment from me.”
“I don’t..” 
But you also have no intention to actually lose your virginity in the front seat of his Cadillac. Not when you know your step-father started his rounds a little over an hour ago. From your estimation, he’ll be on his way up the hill in no less than 15-20 minutes. If finding you with the neighbor he can’t fucking stand doesn’t break him, then maybe it’s time to give up.
“You ever touch yourself?” Jungwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts. Gripping the hem of your dress before dragging it up and off of your body. He reaches between your legs again, rushing to scoop your cunt with the entirety of his large palm. Digging the heel of it against your covered clit. “Like this?”
“Unghh..” you nod slowly, grinding against the pressure. 
“Tell me more.” Jungwoo’s nose flicks against your chin. Applying pressure down on your clit. “What turns you on? I want you dripping wet.”
Your step-father, Johnny. Unbuttoning his uniform. Sat stressed out at the kitchen island with his head hung between his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed together. The way he looks fresh out of the shower when he doesn’t know that you’re watching him. Droplets of water cling to his smooth bare skin, the tattoo on his bicep rippling with each movement, the pink blotches sprinkled across his back and chest from using boiling hot water. 
Johnny’s always on your mind when you touch yourself. He’s the first thing you see when you shut your eyes to fall asleep. He’s the first face you envision when you wake up and rub your eyes, sighing and whimpering to yourself. How he could be one room away and still so far drove you crazier by the minute. Creating more outlandish scenarios in your head as hours went by throughout your day and he’d be hard at work protecting the streets.
It may seem sick to some but your step-father has always been a man you could admire. He never failed you, even now when he should punish you, lock you up with no access to your phone- he doesn’t. He loves you too much to make you suffer anymore than you already have. Do you deserve his patience?
Jungwoo’s teeth nip at your cheek, shoving his hand inside of your panties when you fail to answer with a dazed look in your eyes.
“Y-you,” you mumble, stroking down his forearm to his wrist. “Older guys like you.”
It’s not a complete lie. Most of your wet dreams consisted of your step-father reminding you of how much older he is than you. How much bigger he is than you. How wrong this is. What a disappointment your mother would deem you. She’d be so upset with you, exploiting yourself like this just for your step-fathers attention. She didn’t raise you to be this way, but she’s not here anymore. You only have Johnny now, his presence and existence in your life. Nothing more, nothing less.
But you need all of him. You want it all.
“Slut.” Jungwoo sucks at his bottom lip, pinching your clit between two of his digits. “Only eighteen?”
“Mhm..”
A sadistic smile grows on his face, sliding two digits lower between your folds. “And a virgin, fuck. I can’t remember the last time I fucked a virgin.”
and he still won’t remember after this, judging by the time.. your step-dad will be here soon. At least you hope he will be…
Tips of rough calloused fingers tap against your tight hole, sucking in a deep breath as he adds a little pressure. “Fuck.. you’re so small.”
Licking down your cheek, he nibbles his way to your jawline. Teeth dragging and layering kisses down to your chin. “Messy as fuck, virgin cunt soiling through my car I bet. Wanna eat you out, bet you taste so good.”
Blood rushes to your ears, firmly shutting your eyes and slumping deeper into his passenger seat. “Anyone ever ate out your tight pussy before, angel?”
Jungwoo’s tongue flicks out, lapping up your chin to your mouth. Swallowing the moaned muffled ‘no’ you let out.
“I get to do the honors.” He trails off, prodding at your sensitive hole before sliding his hand free. “Come here.” Grabbing onto your hips, he manhandles you into a better position. Back leaned against the passenger door, cupping under your thigh with a large hand to pull you apart. “Open your pretty cunt for me just like this.” He huffs breathily, gently placing the back of your calf onto the seat. Obscenely sprawled out with your other leg on the car’s floor still.
Not bothering to pull off your panties, he shoves them to one side. Quietly whistling between his pink lips, he drags a thumb down the center of your parted open folds. “Fuck, you’re really..” his head shakes, bending in closer to gawk at your cunt up close. The dim light entering the car makes your arousal appear more as a glossy coat on your thighs. Glistening under the bright lit moonlight. “So wet. Can probably make you squirt so easily.”
Squirt? You think you mutter, dragging the back of your head against the car window. 
A gruff sound leaves his lips, lowering his mouth to your pussy without another second to waste. His tongue pokes out, gently tracing between your wet folds. Teasing side to side until your hips squirm and he lets out a pleased rumble. “Fuck, you taste better than a dream.” He gasps, eyes rolling up to meet yours from the angle he’s at. 
Dropping his mouth back down, he keeps his gaze fixated on your. Sharp eyes lazily hooded, pressing firmer licks between your pussy folds. Rolling the muscle of his tongue up and over your swollen clit. He teases there until your toes curl, reaching your hands out toward him helplessly in search of something to grab onto. 
The thick width of his tongue drags down, laps at your entrance. Testing the stretch with the tip of his tongue pushing inside with a vibrating groan that has you reaching for his hair.
It’s too much after edging yourself for hours to the thought of your step-father today. After sneaking into his bedroom as he showered to lick at his gun, sucking at it before shoving the barrel inside of your hole while Johnny jerked himself off in the shower. 
“F-fuck, I’m—I’m cu—“
Gravel. Tires skidding. A harsh pull of a car brake. Bright lights and a loud clash from a door slamming. He’s here.
The knock at Jungwoo’s car window is incessant, rapid and angry. Ripping himself off of you, he loudly curses, smearing the back of his hand across his lips before yelling for your step-father to stop out of fear that he’ll shatter the glass. “God fucking damnit.”
Rolling it down manually with renowned speed and a frightful gaze, he locks eyes with Johnny’s thinned out furious ones. Sinking down and reaching inside of the car to grab his neck with one large hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing boy?!”
Jungwoo squeals, eyes bulging out of shock and fear. He slaps at Johnny’s wrist, trying to call for your help.
“Daddy! Let go of him!” You shriek, grabbing your dress to hold against yourself. Trembling at the sight of your step-father in this state. He’s never looked so angry, terrifying really..
“Get out of this car. Right now.” He says sternly, burning into you with a laser focused look in his eyes. “Now.”
His demanding tone has you racing to reach the passenger door, not even bothering to get your dress back on before running over to where he still stands hunched over with an unyielding chokehold on Jungwoo’s throat. “Daddy, please! Please stop! Let go of him!”
Wrapping your arms around his bicep, you try to pull. Failing to make him budge and losing your footing when he stands up abruptly. “You, right there.” He points to the hood of the car, reaching for his back pocket to retrieve a pair of handcuffs.
“I told you I’d be on your ass if you ever came near my daughter.” He sneers at Jungwoo, grabbing his arm by the car door. He drags the younger’s wrist to the seatbelt, latching the handcuff shut to trap him to his driver seat. “And you.”
Turning toward you, he points to the hood again. Grabbing your shoulders to spin you around and bend you over, chest pressed flat to the car hood.
“Daddy!” You squeak, breath caught in your throat.
“Don’t.” He growls, slotting his hips to your bottom to keep you in place. Using one large powerful hand to lock your wrists together against your lower back. The feeling of his big warm body sends your mind into a frenzy, pressing your cheek down on the car as a whimper slips free and you meet Jungwoo’s petrified gaze through the windshield. “What did I tell you about the Kim boy down the street?” Johnny asks, controlling the anger in his tone.
“T-to—stay—away from h-him,” you whine, slamming your eyes shut. “T-too old for me.”
“But you like them older, right?” Weight drops down on your back. Heavy and crushing, pressing his hot mouth to your ear. “You love to disobey me, why is that?”
“N-no daddy..”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He bites, teeth snapping down loudly. The dominant tone melting you down, struggling to breathe with his chest on your back, the full weight of his groin shoved against your ass. “What happened to being a good little girl?”
“I-I—I—“ speechless is what you are. Not processing one single clear thought under him. The cool car hood encasing night air keeps you sane enough to stop losing your mind to the heat taking over your body. This isn’t really happening, your step-father.. he’d never act this way. Unless you finally succeeded, you got your wish, you broke him down..
“Tell me the truth, you’ve been a bad girl.” His free hand snakes to your throat. Knocking the breath out of your chest as his palm lays flat and everything around you reminds you of how much fucking bigger he is than you. How much older, stronger, more powerful he is. It’s every horny dream that’s ever interrupted your sleep, but so real, so fucking real. “That’s what you want to be now? Daddy’s bad little girl.”
Oh fuck. This can’t be really happening.
“N-no, daddy’s good girl.” You cry, turning your head enough to look at him from the corner of your eye. “Your g-good girl.”
“It’s my fault. I gave you too much. Let you think you could do whatever the fuck you wanted without any repercussions.” The bridge of his nose presses to your cheekbone. Electric eyes filled with flames locked on yours. “Need to put you back in your place, don’t I sweetheart?”
Tears dribble from your eyes beyond your comprehension. Falling down a dark hole without escape, you nod slowly, whimpering through your choked sobs. “Daddy.”
“I know, baby.” Soft lips drag down your cheek, firmly pressing a kiss at the corner of your mouth. 
Everything about him feels so dizzying, knowing your head would roll off of your neck if he wasn’t choking your throat right now. His fingers trail up to your chin, turning your face to look at Jungwoo’s large eyes reflected in the windshield. “You’re better than this.”
“I’m not, I’m bad. I need to be fixed.. corrected.” You manage to whine, innocently blinking over your shoulder without a care in the world for the man you manipulated into this situation. They’ve all been pawns in your game, your step-father included. All to get what your heart and body desires. “Punish me daddy!”
Johnny’s soft eyes darken in an instant, coated by a shadowed film covering his iris. His nostrils flare, laying all of his large size on top of you. “Why are you asking this of me?”
“B-because, I love you.” You sob, bouncing your lower half against him. “I love you daddy, so much!”
The last bit of fight he had left exits his lips with his next breath. Slowly dropping his eyes shut as he stays still and lets the sensation of your ass grinding back on his cock wash over him. He tried to deny, tried to ignore, berated himself for allowing such indecent thoughts about his step-daughter to enter his mind.
Ever since your behavior became more concerning, he had to set up hidden cameras around the house. He was worried, that’s all. Worried of what harm you could cause yourself when left alone with your sadness and thoughts. He wanted to tell you, he did, but it was only for your own good. And for the most part he felt at ease while he patrolled and left you alone at home. You mostly slept, laid around, occasionally made yourself food. He saw when you’d sneak around.. steal his clothing, but that never bothered him.
Today though, what he saw today, only an hour ago as he fast forwarded through the footage documented today. He saw you on his bed, the one he shared with your mother once. Tracing your fingers along his work uniform, picking up his gun to pose with in the mirror. All normal, until it wasn’t.
“What did you do with my gun?” He asks slowly, shoving your hair away to one side. “Tell me.”
Color drains from your face, wide eyes peering up at him. “I—I—“
“Why did you do it?” He continues to question, having to swallow to calm his dry throat. “What’s gotten into you sweetie? What do I need to do to fix this? To fix you?”
What has gotten into you? Depression, malignant fantasies, emptiness. Really, that's it, emptiness. Every part of you feels so empty, so hollow, unalive. The only time a shred of life shows itself is when you see Johnny, when you’re with him, when he smiles at you, when he touches you, when he wraps you up in his large arms. “Because I love you.”
One solo tear trails down his cheek, slowly nodding as he pulls you up and wraps around your waist from behind. Soft full lips press to your cheek, the lips you crave and lose your mind over. Safety, that’s what he is. Your step-father, he’s the refuge you pray for, the comfort you can’t find anywhere no matter how hard you search. “If you love me, you’ll stop doing this.” His voice cracks, shaking as he finds your watery eyes.
“And if you love me,” your lip trembles, teeth chattering. “You’ll love me.”
If there is a God, he’ll never forgive him.
Strong working hands, dangerous hands that have handled firearms for years, that have locked up wrong doers, that have nurtured and fought hard for you; strong hands squeeze your waist. Slowly turning you around to face him. “I want to take you home.”
“No daddy, I want you, here.”
Here at Agora Hills, the exact place you have been luring him to night after night. “Here?” He questions almost pathetically, rubbing down your bare stomach to the frilly material of your panties. His eyes slide over to Jungwoo’s near haunted face, jaw hung open so wide he can see all the way to the back of his throat where his tonsils hang. Surely he’ll tell everyone in the neighborhood about what he’s witnessed here tonight. May as well make it a good story. 
“Here.” Johnny repeats more assured, nodding to the hood of your neighbor’s ridiculous car. “Lift your legs up sweetie.”
The backseat of his patrol vehicle had definitely been the layout for your fantasy, skittish as you allow him to mount you onto Jungwoo’s car and the hood gives under your weight. Denting your knees in place, echoing a pitiful cry from inside of the car. Johnny’s hold around your stomach tightens, resting your back to his chest so that your legs can bend open in front of the windshield. “You let this idiot touch you baby?” 
“Y-yes..” you admit, flushing from head to toe as you meet your neighbor’s miserable expression. He really really had pissed off your daddy..
“You let him touch you here?” Longer fingers drag across the top of your lace panties. Biting down on his lip with his chin perched over your shoulder. He slaps your trembling inner thighs, reaching lower to drag a thumb down the seam of your panties stretched against labia folds. “Let anyone touch you, don’t you?”
“N-no daddy..”
“Don’t lie to me.” Johnny’s usual soft spoken voice is long gone. Falling into a deeper and raspier speech as he skirts around your panties. Tapping the tip of his nose against your cheek. “No more, you let anyone touch you again and daddy will make you regret it.”
Fuck. Shivers explode down your spine, frantically nodding as he suddenly rips your soaked underwear to one side. Exposing your blood engorged cunt to the cool night air, pornographically spread open on the hood of some classic automobile. “N-never!”
“That’s right.” He hisses, eyebrows furrowed, leaning into your back more until you fold in and can’t lift your neck. Forced into a nearly pretzeled position with no choice but to watch as his large hand lowers past your navel and he splits open your pussy folds. “Shaved yourself all pretty, I know that’s not for him.”
Erupting with a fresh batch of tears, you struggle to shake your head. Rambling a spatter of ‘nonono’ because nothing has ever been for anyone else. Only for your step-father, only for him.
It’s beyond painful how desperate you sound, losing your sight through wads of tears that won’t stop filling up your eyes. “What should I do baby? Your panties are so wet.” He tsks, tugging the worn down material bunched up in his fist even harder. Ripping a sound of lace shredding through the night air. “Want me to touch your little pussy? To use your cunt in front of your random boy toy?”
“Daddy, p-please!” He’s driving you crazy. Slamming your socked feet against the car hood, you let out the most feral of moans. Jerking your hips up with a shout
“Want me to touch you here?” Johnny murmurs, sounding on the brink of insanity himself. Tiptoeing two fingers down your cunt to your opening, spewing slick out onto his digits. “To shove them deep inside of you?”
A moment of cold silence rinses down on you, craning your neck back against his chest to look at him. Nuzzling and nodding against his throat, you whimper feebly, placing a scolding kiss on his Adam’s apple. “Please daddy, p-please fuck me.”
Shit, that’s not what Johnny expected to ever hear. The beating of his heart goes wild, throbbing its way up to his brain, filling his ears full of static noise. He’s panting heavily, winding down to your entrance in search of what can only be wonderland. Fully hunched over you, he watches with intent as the pads of his digits push against the tightness of your hole. Hissing between his teeth at the resistance he’s met with. 
There’s no way you’re still this tight if you really let the neighbor boy fuck you. How tiny can his dick be? Johnny grimaces, pushing in past the snap of skin that sucks around his fingers. Propelling spikes of adrenaline and hunger through him that scream to go harder, faster, deeper. The bend in your knees goes limp, kicking out against the car windshield, garnering another shattered cry from inside of the vehicle. 
Entranced by how you squeeze around two of his digits, your step-father stabs them deeper inside. Thrusting them in harder only to hear your cunts wet echoes splatter around his hand onto the hood of Jungwoo’s car.
“Daddy!” Exhaling something between a moan and a cry, you pant heavily under his upper body. Convulsing and shaking into him, forced to take the two long fingers jabbing in and out of you at a rapid speed. He flicks at your swollen clit, in disbelief at the way your pussy hasn’t stopped spasming since he started fucking past your holes squeeze. 
“You're so close, princess.” He huffs raggedly. Snapping his fingers in and out at a blinding pace. Pumping more wetness to stream out onto the hood of the car. The teasing flicks at your clit turn furious. Pinching your stuff bud between his thumb and pointer finger, tweak your raging nerves into a frenzy. Shots of electricity burn through your limbs, curling your toes in with a scream out to the night sky. 
It’s hot and blinding, punching your chest with cold all at once. The force of your orgasm pushes against his fingers, halting Johnny’s motions as a powerful rush of clear liquid rips out around his digits and your pussy walls grip around him. The thought of his cock filling you up next has him pulling out. Slapping his hand down to rub at your clit furiously, concentrated and focused as he watches in awe. The squirting stream shoots out harder, raining down on the car’s windshield.
“Holy shit.” Jungwoo cries out from inside, struggling to breathe.
“Knew you could do it.” Your step-father praises, kissing the side of your sweaty forehead. “My good girl.”
Johnny does the unthinkable, swiping your drenched cunt before lifting his hand up, gaze on yours with his tongue lapping at his fingers. “Tastes so good.”
Just like heaven.
“D-daddy?” You sniffle, pouting your lips out toward him with the largest saddest eyes he’s ever seen. Bloodshot, cheeks stained with tears the same exact way they were when your mother died.
A kiss, a kiss is what you beg for. A kiss from your daddy.
And Johnny, how could he ever deny you? How can he stop himself from scooping you up, wrapping your trembling thighs around his waist. Cupping your ass as he leans in and gives you one of the softest lightest kisses, leaving one on the tip of your cold nose after. He presses for more, a firmer kiss, longer contact. Rubbing your ass between his greedy hands, asking for entrance to your sinful mouth with his tongue. 
Denying you has never been an option. 
“D-daddy,” you cry between hot kisses. Overwhelmed by his dominant mouth, how easily he takes control. The suck around your tongue and lips ready to burst from how swollen they are. “Please, please fuck me. Want you to be my first, please.”
“First?” Stepping back, he looks over your naive expression. Your flushed cheeks, your beating chest, your hands trembling against your thighs. “First.”
You’re a virgin, an eighteen year old virgin. His step-daughter, pure, untouched, barely legal. Begging him to be your first.
If anyone should be your first, it’s him. He practically raised you, has the best interest in mind for you. He loves you.
“Show me.” Licking at his lips, he swallows hard. Throat clamoring for some saliva. “Show me your virgin pussy.”
And you do, you listen so well. Almost too perfectly as you place your feet flat to the car and grab your knees to hold them open. Your pretty lace panties ruined, blood-filled cunt pulsating at him. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen in years, virgin pussy. Hairless in all the right places, hole barely visible because of how fucking tight you are.
It’s wrong, he’s so big it’s going to hurt you so much. “Daddy.” But the way you whine for him. How you proudly sit there pumping your cunt at him. You need to be punished.
He wants to take you home, fuck you right on the same bed he took your mother on for years. Bend you into every position, make you scream all night until the neighbors make a fuss and turn their lights on at 3am. Nosey and curious, whispering about a murder taking place.
Wrapping you back up in his arms, he spares Jungwoo’s sobbing face one last look. Nodding with a smirk before turning around to his vehicle. At least he’d taken the SUV for patrol tonight, unbeknownst to himself of what would soon unravel. 
“You deserve the world baby.” He whispers, unlatching the back door open to climb inside with you. It’s spacious enough, thankfully, because despite how badly he needs to get you home, he needs to know how you feel even more. Fighting with each step to his cop car with his swollen sack, he’s proud of himself for not turning you over and taking you on that asshole’s car. “And daddy’s going to give it to you.”
Writhing against his back seat, you lay flat and unhook your bra, throwing it to the ground. “You’re so so pure.” He almost growls, unbuckling the large metal buckle of his belt. Blazed eyes dragging down your body, your pinched waist, round hips, panties barely holding on for life. “So beautiful and good to me.” He nods, shaking his shoulders free from his holster. Working to unbutton his long sleeved uniform shirt. “So good for me, my angel.”
Johnny means every word. You’ve never done wrong in his eyes, always his sweet little girl. Even now you’re giving him everything, all of you. An angel sent to take care of him through his misery. 
Getting down to his constricting work slacks, he situates himself between your thighs. Having to hunched in due to the shirt ceiling height. The touch of your flesh beneath his fingertips heats up like a furnace. “Your pussy, your virgin cunt..”
Eyes drunk on nothing but need, lust, desire, love stare up at him. Continuously rolling tears down your glowing cheeks. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, never having had sex.. you just want him.
“Who’s pussy is this?” He asks brazenly, surprising himself. Caressing the insides of your knees and he peers down at your cunt that seems to have a heartbeat of its own. “Who’s is it, baby girl?”
“Your!” You cough, falling into a mewl. Moaning lewdly as he nods above you, broad and large. Slinking his hands to his zipper to slowly glide down. 
“Yeah,” Johnny sucks in a deep breath, nodding slowly. Shoving his pants and briefs down past the middle of his thighs. “After I fuck this pussy, no one elses but mine.”
“Daddy’s pussy.” You moan, legs spread out for him. Grabbing your panties to tug at roughly. “Only yours.”
A glob of wet arousal pulses from your hole as you say it, and it’s enough to drop his body forward. To circle the base of his cock with one of his sweaty hands, eyes on yours. The way your cunt drips, he can only hope you’ll feel nothing but pleasure. Slapping the thick girth of his meat against your wet pussy, he hisses. Having to hold himself up with one arm bracketed by your head so that he can look down at his length covering your center. “This might hurt, baby.”
“P-please.” Make it hurt. That’s all that Johnny can hear. Your pleads for punishment, for pain, for something to heal and fill up your empty soul.
The head of his cock feels the true warmth of your cunt, your tight suffocating grip, wrapping around him like a perfect cock sleeve. 
And it’s right, it’s so right. Rolling his eyes shut, groaning as he feeds you more of his size despite your cries. The scrabbling small hands scratching his chest, your clinking teeth and sniffles. He fits the entirety of his cock inside of your pussy. Mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, wettest cunt he’s ever fucked. 
Sinking into the hilt, he meets obstruction. Mouth hung open panting heavily on top of you. He can’t take his eyes off of it, how his cock disappears inside of you, how connected you both are right now. Creeping an angry groan out of him, curling up his spine as his balls smack against your rim.
“My angel, my baby.” He pants harshly. Using his flexed abdomen muscles to hold himself up and slide both of his hands beneath your neck. “Look at us, baby.”
Johnny’s strong hands hold your head up off of the backseat, folding you in as they wrap around your neck and squeeze. The crushing weight on your throat chokes your breath, wide eyed as you look down at what he wants you to see. Fucking into you with brutal determination when he finds your gaze where he wants it to be. His glossy wet cock, pummeling in and out of you as if you’re a pro at this. 
Your cunts just too good, sucking around him like nothing ever has. He draws in and out, plunging in madly. Pulling out to the tip only to slam back in and make you take, shape you to take his cock.
Creamy wetness splurges out around his size with each stroke. Spilling out beneath your ass, filling the vehicle with a splattering sound of your arousal. The smack of his balls on your ass, hips hitting the backs of your thighs. Coughed and gurgled moans, scratching at his forearms the more he tightens around your neck. “Daddy!”
Fuckfuckfuck, you’re driving him insane. Bonkers, off the walls, throwing his head back releasing the loudest pleasured moans. Each one making your pussy squeeze and grip around him tighter. He moans louder and louder, reminding you with each that you’re the best, so good and amazing for him. 
“Da-daddy—is—is—“ you splutter, jerked up and down under the force of his hips jackhammering into you. 
Johnny’s wild eyes meet yours, loosening on your throat to let you breathe easily. His pace never falters, pushing his cock through your kissing cunt. Through your delicious maddening heat, through the milking grip trying to make him cum. “Baby wants it even deeper, huh?”
“I-is—“ you mumble incoherently, squeezing your eyes to blink away tears. Fluttering open to find his. “M-my pussy—better t-than mommy’s?”
FUCK. 
Why would you say that?! Why would you ask him that?! Johnny can’t stop his hips from stuttering, slamming in and stilling. Filling your cunt with a hot load of cum, sticky and wet. Too much for your tiny little hole to handle. He’s never lost himself like this, never emptied his balls so fast. Never came too quickly.
“What’re you doing to me.” He whimpers, falling flat and heavy against your chest. Ragged breaths punch out of his lungs, practically vibrating on top of you. His cock twitching inside of your squeezing hole, not softening up for anything.
“Say that again.” He sighs, reaching to cup your face. Nose shoved against yours. “Say that again for me baby.”
The sad desperate tone he asks you in has your pussy squeezing around the wet gush of sperm and slick filling you up along with his fat cock. Losing your strength to hold your eyes open, you slowly fade. Heavy lidded and croaking. “I-is my pussy b-better than mommy’s?”
Johnny’s bulging biceps cage your head. Pressing a searing hot kiss on your saliva drenched lips. “So much better, my fucking angel. My fucking sweet angel with he best pussy, can’t get enough of you. Will never be enough, need all of you.”
Licking at the drool covering your chin and neck, he begins to grind his hips in circles. Stretching your cock to take him again and again. For as long as he can keep it up for you, he’ll keep fucking you. Fuck all the pain away with more punishment. 
“Daddy’s gonna mold your tight little pussy.” He grunts, sitting up to haul your legs up. Laying your limp limbs against your chest with no struggle. “So flexible.” 
Of course you are, a young eighteen year old girl, good for nothing but taking cock. “Want you only taking my cock from now on, no one else’s.”
“Y-yes daddy.” You whisper, throat burning from screaming and moaning. Face scrunched up trying to hold back your urge to cum again, too swollen between your thighs to squeeze any harder. “Only yours.”
“Such a good pussy. So fucking soft and wet.” Johnny thrusts in slowly a few times. Catching his breath before slamming down, circling his thick arms around your shoulders to completely fold you in. Suffocated by his masculine body wash scent filling your senses, his deep grunts, the deep set lines taking over his forehead with every exerted movement. 
Furious thrusts only build and build to a violent speed, aided by the endless stream of slick lubricating his cock. He can’t stop fucking you, can’t make himself stop.
“Daddy, daddy!” It’s all you can say, repeat and scream. Too lost in your pleasure, the numbness coursing through you, your blacked out mind that needed this. Needed to feel whole to feel empty again, to relax your brain and scorch endless amounts of endorphins through your system. 
“Come on princess, let me feel how good that pussy cums.” He growls, chasing your orgasm for you. Grunting and fucking through your pulsing heat, hot slick pussy walls gripping him so tight. 
“A-ahh!” The drag of his length pauses, fluttering his eyes open. Letting out a cracked howl as you cum. Tossing his head back to fully take in how clench around him akin to a chokehold. Wailing and whimpering beneath him as streams of hot clear liquid shoot onto his pelvis. Too limp and out of it to break free from his position even through your writhing. Your step-father suffers through it, the best suffering he’s ever experienced. Biting down on his lip with a deep breath as he curses and fucks through the last seconds of your climax. 
He tries to stave off his release, tries to stop himself from finishing too fast again, but you’re just too good. Never letting his dick breathe with the way you milk his cock.
“Fuck shit, f—fuck. G-gonna cum.” He says between clenched teeth. Groaning from the back of his throat, digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Take all of my cum baby, it’s all for you.”
All of it for you, from now on he won’t go a day without spilling himself empty inside of your pussy. Fucking his seed deep inside, painting your cervix without any concern of you getting pregnant. You belong to him now.
“Fuck that’s it.” He grits, groaning loudly with shaking thighs barely holding him up. Cock sheathed deep inside of you painting your cervix in strings of white hot cum. “Take all of it, my good girl.”
His good girl, you hum quietly. Using your last bit of energy to clamp your cunt around him and snatch every last bit of cum for your greedy hole. 
The night feels endless in the backseat of his patrol car atop of Agora Hills. Just the two of you, lost in each other’s bodies, fucking your pain and anger away. 
“Let’s get you home.” He finally finds the willpower to say after filling you up two more times. Finding a blanket in the trunk to wrap around you. “It’s too late, way past your curfew.”
The comment brings a lazy smile to both of your faces. Curling into his side for comfort.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, princess.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead to ease whatever anxious thoughts attempt to enter now that the haze of lust and sex has cooled down.
“I love you.” 
Johnny frowns, turning to cuddle against your side. His forehead presses against your shoulder, placing a light kiss on your collarbone. “Daddy loves you more.”
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Text
Logan's girl
Summary: Jessie's girl inspired; Jean has feelings for Logans girl and Logan over hears and gets insecure
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Logan woke up to you in his arms and warmth fills him seeing you so peaceful in his arms. He hated that he had to get up, but he managed to move you away from him without waking you and he sneaked out of the room to start making breakfast for the two of you.
When he was heading to the kitchen, he overheard Jean talking to Storm while they were drinking coffee at the table in there. He didn't think anything of it and was about to continue going into the kitchen before he heard his name and your name, when he heard that he froze and started to actually listen to what she was saying.
"Logan is a great teammate, you know he's starting to be a good friend of mine but lately something changed itsn't hard to figure out, he got himself his girl and I-I really want to make her mine..." Jean admitted to Storm her feelings that she's been hiding for a while, and Logan felt his eyes widen.
He heard Storm gasps lightly "Jean you don't mean -" Jean cut her off and continued her ramble. "It's been killing me to see her watching him with those eyes, and she's loving him with that body, I-I just know it! And he's getting to hold her in his arms late at night!! I wish I was with Logan's girl, and you know I just feel so dirty when they start talking cute I wanna tell her that I love her, but the point is probably moot...she really does love him doesn't she?" Jean asked weakly, already knowing what the answer was. Storm felt for her friend, but at the same time, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
No one has ever seen this side of Logan. Logan was actually in love, he really loved his girl. Anything with eyes could tell that she was the man's soft spot, and he was really starting to soften up with everyone around him, not just her. The two of you had been together for a few months now but in that spam of time Storm could see a change in Logan that she hoped lasted. Storm just hoped Jean didn't do anything stupid and left the couple alone. Hopefully, Logan never found out how the red head felt towards his girl.
Unfortunately, he heard the whole confession. He decided that breakfast was something the two of you could go out for and went back up to the bedroom as quietly as he could. While he was heading back to your shared room he was trying to remain calm and to keep his claws in so you wouldn't be able to tell right away that he was upset about something so early in the morning.
"Baby...princess," he shook you awake. You groaned and tried to ignore him, but after a while, you admitted defeat and just woke up. "Whaaat??? It's so early, bub." You groaned louder, rubbing your eyes. Usually, hearing you call him bub resulted in him giving some sort of snarky comeback reminding you that he isnt your bub he's your handsome man, but today, it just made him drag you out of bed. "We're going to breakfast, thought we'd go to your favorite diner angel." He got the two of you dressed as you leaned against him and practically slept on him.
He had to drag you out of the mansion, he couldn't be in there anymore knowing there was someone else in there who wanted his girl. He didn't want to see Jean or Storm or anyone, and he didn't want you to be around Jean anytime soon. The two of you got to the diner alarmingly fast and as the two of you sat across from each other, you could tell something was bothering him. His jaw was locked, his brows were furrowed, and when the food arrived he was violently stabbing his eggs.
"Lo... my handsome man, what's bothering you, baby?" You asked a bit timidly, your voice was full of concern. You could tell he didn't want to tell you, he was avoiding eye contact but finally the two of you met each other's eyes and he sighed before sitting up straighter. He cleared his throat before telling you what happened, "I overheard... something today. It was um interesting?" He cringed thinking about this morning before he sighed again and continued explaining, "Jean, she said she has, she's been having feelings for my girl." His jaw clenched harder than before, something you thought was impossible and made you worry he would actually break his teeth.
"Your girl? But that's me," you said innocently with a shrug, not connecting the dots. Logan nodded with a look on his face that read, 'Don't make me say it again, please.' "Yeah, my girl princess..." He said again, waiting for it to connect in your head, and when your eyes widened, he knew that everything was connected. "Logan....I..." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You hardly knew Jean. You worked with her a handful of times, and the times you do interact, she does get flirty.
You started to think back on the times she flirted with you in the past and the incidents that may have shown her feelings clearer.
"Did you change your hair? It looks beautiful," she twirled a piece of your hair, "and it's so soft. What shampoo do you use, sweetheart?" --- then there was the time after you made dinner for everyone. She thanked you for your hard work and amazing food, and she graced your arm with her hand softly before walking away. --- or the time where during a movie night you noticed how she sent glares your way while you were cuddled up with Logan on the recliner but you had just assumed she wanted to be in his lap, not wanting to have you in her lap.
You cringed at the realization and you were praying that Logan didn't know about the flirty past few weeks. You knew this would hurt him even if he had nothing to worry about. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, he trusted you, loved you and you loved him but the idea that someone else, someone strong, pretty and younger could love you better than him just ate away at him.
When the two of you got back to the mansion you avoided Jean as the plague, it was clear that the two of you may have overheard that she had growing feelings towards you and she was devastated. She had a strong feeling that even if she didn't confess to you, she still ruined your friendship somehow. It became more clear to her that you two learned about her feelings when later that night she overheard you two moaning each other's names loudly, as if to claim one another to everyone else in the mansion. The next morning she couldn't make eye contact with you, when she did her eyes immediately went to the hickies that covered your neck.
Tagging:
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junedenim · 3 days
Text
what it takes to say goodnight
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just him & his girls
warnings: dad!alex, fluff, smut, piv, fingering, mild breeding kink, & so on...
word count: 4.4k
He nearly trips over the cat when he walks in. He mutters curse words to himself before picking Pepper—the cat—up before it runs out the front door. Pepper has always been a calm kitty and she takes well in Alex's arms, though they are full and he struggles through the door before he can finally put everything, including Pepper, down on the floor. She tangles in his legs before running off back into the house.
Alex closes the front door roughly causing one of the magnets that holds a picture of the girls up to fall on the floor loud enough to alert the other residents of the house that he is home.
"Sounds like someone's home," he hears you announce followed by the sudden noise of pattering feet.
He rounds the corner, greeted by two blurs rushing him like linebackers. As always, Willow is quick to talk her mouth going a mile a minute, shouting, "Come look what I made today! Pick me up, daddy, pick me up! Come on!" He can't even keep track of what she is saying most of the time, her mouth going a mile a minute.
Contrasting her twin sister, Wren, his quiet little girl, tugs on his pant leg to get his attention. They've always been this way, even when you were pregnant with them. Willow would kick away and Wren would suck her thumb. Wren speaks when spoken to, preferring to perform motions to express her opinions. Unless it's vegetables, then she cries and yells, "Yuck!"
To combat both girls' interests, he bends down and picks them both up. They are just on the edge of being too heavy for Alex to pick both up at once. But maybe he'll wait until the next birthday to stop doing this. Wren curls into him while Willow hangs off his neck still yapping, "I want mac & cheese for dinner. Mummy said we can so you have to let us. Wen wants it too. Say it, Wen." Willow has always called Wren "Wen." It's adorable and Alex and you can't bear to ever correct it.
Alex turns to Wren, nudging her with a bounce to show her some attention and get her answer. "I want mac & cheese," she says robotically as if Willow trained her to say it.
"Really?" Alex questions. He looks toward you, sitting on the living room rug and watching this exchange. You share a silent laugh with him. You're calm, and he never understands how you managed to hold that through the whole day with the girls. He loves them like nothing else ever but, man, do they tire him out.
"Swear," Willow answers for Wren. "Mummy also said you'd play dolls with us."
You laugh out loud. "I never said that, Will."
Willow thinks otherwise. "Well, maybe you could anyway."
Alex laughs. "We'll see." He feels a strain in his back and decides it's time to put the girls down. Will goes off running back to her toys but Wren hangs on, unable to let go of the comfort. "C'mon Wren. At least let me take my shoes off."
"But you'll come back?" She's completely wide-eyed and worried. Whenever she's in need of reassurance, Alex fears it's his fault. That he went on tour when they were too young and ever since Alex is certain he has caused them abandonment issues. 
He told you this once, late at night, after Wren had cried for him to not leave her alone in her room. He stayed with her until she fell asleep and would have fallen asleep beside her if you hadn't come to collect him. Under the covers, he told you this fear and regret, at first, you laughed, insisting Wren was just clingy. Alex chose to believe you if only to fall asleep that night.  
Sometime after midnight, Wren came into yours and Alex's bedroom, tugging on Alex's hand making sure that he was still there, still breathing, still real. Her little whimpers woke you up. Alex hugged Wren to his chest and you ran a hand down the sensitive girl's back. She kept saying, "You were gone. You left." You tried your best to minimize Alex's worries but he felt this fear to be true and a hidden part of him thinks you blame him too.
Alex kisses Wren's plump baby cheek, placing her tiny feet on the wooden floor. "Always," he assured her. She toddles cautiously back to the toys to join her sister.
But then there's one more girl he has to take care of. "Are you going to make me mac & cheese?" You ask, approaching him, and slinging your arms around his neck. His hand finds its rightful place on the small of your back, the one where you always feel an ache when his hand isn't there.
He pulls you closer to him, pressing her body up against his, your faces so close, your noses just barely not touching. "I'll make you whatever you want." His lips pucker expectantly, waiting for yours to collide with them.
"Anything?" You raise an eyebrow.
He relaxes his lips and quirks a smile. "Yeah, I can make you the unicorn-shaped mac & cheese."
"Wow," you laugh, "you really are my prince charming."
He puckers his lips again. "Hurry up and kiss me, would you?" You give in because he's so cute talking about mac and cheese and there's a flutter in his eyes that you can tell means he had a long day so you won't put up much of a fight, especially when he kisses you just right.
You pull away and ask, "Long day?"
Alex shrugs. "I'm where I want to be now. How was it here?" He runs his hand up and down your right arm.
You sigh as you begin to feel the weight of the day"Good. No fights. Wren didn't nap."
Alex throws his head back. "Don't tell me that." 
That fear ticks away inside him but you grab his hand and squeeze it. "It's not because of you. It allowed me to have Wren & me time considering she's a daddy's girl and Will's constant desire to be the center of attention, but don't tell her I told you that."
He chuckles. "Your secret's safe with me."
"Now come on with the mac & cheese!"
Later, when he's cooking dinner, Wren clings to his leg. Will is singing loudly in the living room and he can hear you clapping along with her. 
"Mac & cheese?" Wren asks him.
"Almost done," Alex promises, picking her up by the straps of her overalls and depositing her onto the counter. "Would you do today? Did you have fun with mummy and Will?"
Wren simply nods with a smile, which is a good sign, no frowns in sight.
But she tugs away at his heart, making grabby hands for him. She's always been clingy, enjoying the feeling of being held, but he can't help but feel that she's spent the whole day missing him, not able to have any fun. 
"Do you maybe want to come to work with me tomorrow, honey?" He knows he should ask you about this and Willow will have to come along or she'll throw a temper tantrum but sometimes he thinks Wren needs a little extra love. She doesn't shout for attention in the manner Willow does. Sometimes she needs to be noticed and needs to feel special.
Then, Wren starts doing that happy gurgle-laugh thing. She swings her legs, tiny socked feet hitting the utensil drawer. She nods quickly, completely excited. "I'll have to talk with mummy about it but you and me will do something special. That sound nice?"
"Yeah!" She squeals and claps her hands. 
Her excitement rubs off on Alex, giving him something to smile about. He nuzzles his nose with hers. He can't get over how precious she is. "Yeah," he repeats, completely content. In moments like this, he doesn't feel like he's completely failed as a parent.
Willow comes walking in, patting her stomach, asking, "Is the mac & cheese ready? I'm 'ungry."
*
Putting the twins to bed can either be the easiest part of the day or the hardest. Wren nearly passes out in the bathtub, running on limited sleep. Willow refuses to stay in bed. When you leave the room, she pops out of bed and starts playing with her toys in the dark. 
Alex goes in to kiss her goodnight after he lays Wren down and finds her bouncing on her bed. She stalls at the sight of Alex, clear that she has been caught out. "Bedtime, missy," he tells her.
She giggles but plops down on her butt. "I'm not tired," she states like there is simply no argument to be made.
Alex sighs and sits on the edge of her tiny bed. "But I'm tired."
"You can go to bed. That's okay, daddy." She touches his arm like she's reassuring him she'll be fine.
Alex huffs a laugh into his hand. He doesn't want Will to get excited that she's making her dad laugh. "I can't go to bed unless you go to bed. It's the rules."
She closes her eyes and flops down on the bed dramatically, pushing the air loudly out of her pillow. "Fine." She seems like she's making an attempt, but then she opens her eyes wide and demands, "Story first."
He knows you probably read her two stories already and he shouldn't give in but you're in the shower and he'll be waiting all alone in bed for you so why shouldn't he kill some time with one of his girls? "One."
She claps her little kiddie hands. "You can pick," she says like she's doing him a favour.
And she kind of is because if he has to read Goldilocks again, he might lose it. "Rumplestiltskin it is." He's always liked it and he knows Will likes the straw turning into gold part. 
He picks up the book of the collected Brothers Grimm fairy tales. Part of him can never deny reading the girls (including you) a story. You all do the same thing: cuddle up beside him, lay your head on his arm, point at the pictures, and say a comment on every sentence if only to make reading time just a bit longer. Will curls his fingers around his forearm and falls asleep halfway through the story but he finishes it anyway. Partly because he knows if Will is pretending to be asleep and he doesn't finish the whole thing she'll insist he has to read her another one. (The other part because he loves the story).
You've just exited the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around you when Alex enters your bedroom. "Everyone went to sleep alright?" You're going through the drawers, looking for pajamas.
"Yeah. Will had me read her another story but she conked out quick."
You smirk. "Will had you read another story or you wanted to read another story?"
He rolls his eyes at you mocking him before admitting, "Both."
You laugh at him, your sweet boy. The house can feel overrun with girls sometimes, even the cat is a girl, but Alex never seems to mind. He likes all the girlish things the girls like. Tea parties and dress-up, although, he did get noticeably a little more excited when the girls started kicking around a football. But then Alex just said, "Girls are better at football anyway." 
He's better at tea parties than football anyway. He doesn't even try to pretend to lose to the girls when they play 2 v. 1 with him. They are sneaky and tiny and like Pepper does, they wrap around and slide through his legs to kick into his goal. Meanwhile, he thrives at the tea parties, drinking whatever concoction the girls make, even if it tastes like plastic. You always pretend to sip but Alex is the real deal. Always has been.
"Did you miss me while I was gone?" He asks, leaning against the wall, trying to tempt you.
You smile, dropping the towel, leaving you naked in his view for five seconds before you toss a T-shirt over your head. "No, not really."
The T-shirt is red and he's like a bull as he charges toward you, picks you up, and lands both of you on the bed. You're giggling affectionately into the kiss and it's completely loved-up and lovely and you both love that but Alex and you clearly want more. You push him up, off of your lips. "Shut the door."
Sex with the kids can be challenging. Before you did it every time, every surface you could find. Now, you mostly do it at night, rarely in the morning because the girls are always up early. You can't do it every night. Sometimes you can tell the girls didn't fall asleep or you're tired or Alex passed out while you were in the shower. 
Despite the scheduling-sounding nature of things, sex still seems spontaneous. Like a random gust of wind felt upon the skin. Alex always makes things exciting and after doing it more times than you can count, it never bores. The predictability of it is what makes it so charged, so romantic, so sexual, so loving. You can tell by the thrust of his hips whether he's close or not. He can tell by the furrow of your brow whether he's hitting that spot in you or not. It has always felt right.
He's fast in his steps, locking the door, and pretty much launching himself back onto the bed. He covers you, completely all over you, kissing you, feeling you up. He reaches under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your boobs, but not taking it off. He grabs them, a fistful at first, then just the nipple. He kisses down your neck, over the collection of your shirt's fabric, onto the skin of your boobs, and then the areola, licking over the wrinkles of it before meeting the erected nipple.
There are times when you do devote time to foreplay. Alex loves it. You love it. Both ways. You both have always been reciprocal naturally. You never need to ask the other for more. In fact, more often you ask for less. Like...
"This feels really nice," you tell him, "but I'm tired and I know you're tired so just fuck me, okay?"
"Okay," he agrees, breathing heavily already. He stands to take his clothes off. You don't bother shedding the top. He can fondle your boobs just fine with it still on and it provides an emergency cover if one of the girls walks in.
Alex lays back on you intently, kissing you harshly. You reach down to hold his cock, pumping him a few times before his hand takes over and slides into you. The idea of it is quick but the pace is rocking, not fast, not slow, just right. You furrow your brows and arch up into him. He reaches into the space underneath the arch and holds you, completely skin-to-skin. He lays kisses on your neck in no particular pattern like he isn't even trying to turn you on more, he just wants to do it. 
You grip the back of his head's hair, clumps in your compressed grasp. "More," you urge, needing just a little more to tip over.
His mouth moves next to your ear, whispering, "Want me to fuck another baby into you?"
It makes you snort a laugh right in the middle of sex. You have to physically stop his hips from moving as you collect your breath. "What? Another set of twins?"
"Yeah. With my super sperm." He's jokingly bragged about that with you since you found out you were having twins. You corrected him and said it was your eggs that made the twins since they're fraternal. He said, "No, it was a really good load, I remember." It's always made you laugh.
"Twin boys now?" You ask.
He shrugs. "Or more girls? I don't mind."
Everything about him is calm, but there is sincerity in all of it. "Are we seriously talking about more kids while you're inside me?"
Alex makes small movements inside you. "Yeah, come on." He leans closer and closer to you. "We make cute kids. The girls are older. I know you want it."
You place your hands on his shoulders. "Right now I just want you so can we do that part before the 9-month part?"
He nods. "Cart before the horse."
You laugh and tug him down into your shoulder. You whisper into his ear as his hips begin to move harder and harder, "Fuck a baby into me."
Alex chuckles and kisses your jugular. He quickens, both of you feeling an ache for release conjuring inside you. He moves harder and pulls your hips to him. He's doing all the work, but he doesn't mind, he likes doing this for you, likes being good for you. That's all he wants to do.
"That feel good?" He has asked this almost every time you've had sex like, no matter what, even after doing this for years, he wants to make sure it's as good as the last time.
You hum in the affirmative, feeling too overwhelmed to talk clearly. Your grip around his neck tightens as you drag him closer down to you. He keeps thrusting into you hard, skin hitting skin sounding across the room. 
"So fucking tight," he groans into your ear. 
His pace is quick, erratic, and eager. His breath is heavy and filled with soft grunts. His hands are rough, squeezing on your hips. You know he's holding on for you but you want him to enjoy it too. It doesn't always have to be about you. "Let go," you tell him. 
But he's hot for it, not rejecting your request like you thought he would. "You want it?" He asks.
You nod, fluttering eyes.
"Tell me," he says, pounding deep.
You scrap your nails down his back soothingly. "I want it. Deep in me." He hums, requesting more without saying it. "Fill me up with your cum. Please."
Maybe it's your words, maybe it's how close he was, or maybe it's both, but he cums instantly after, deep inside you, filling you up. He groans and pants into your neck. He rests inside you, holding everything in, while he catches his breath. You comb your fingers through his hair, calming him.
He raises his head so he's looking down on you. "You okay?"
You softly smile, exhaustion hovering over you. "Yeah."
"You don't cum," he comments.
You shrug. "I got what I wanted."
Alex grunts. "God, you're gonna make me cum again."
You push him up, making him hiss at the sensitivity. "Don't," you command.
He pulls out slowly and before you can even say anything, he's got his fingers inside you, keeping all that cum in, making a mess on his finger. It takes you off guard, making you moan instantly. He's quick with everything, knowing you want to go to bed, hoping to release the tension and ease you into relaxation.
His two fingers shove in and out of you rapidly. He curls them just in the right spot, making you moan, "Fuck." His thumb grazes over your clit, just like how he knows to do it. It's messy, the whole thing is a mess, but it feels like the hottest thing ever, and soon your hips are unable to stay still and you're coming.
It's your turn to catch your breath and he's licking your shared cum off his hands. He makes a face. "I don't think I've ever tasted my own cum."
You reach out and grab his hand, taking the still-dirty finger into your mouth, and licking it clean. "You've made me taste both before."
He kisses your lips before getting off the bed to grab tissues. "Don't act like it was against your will. I recall you liking it."
You sigh, sitting up and fixing your shirt. "We're gonna have to change the sheets."
Alex hands you a few tissues and says, "I'll do it. You clean yourself up." You'll always accept him doing all the work.
*
It’s three in the morning when a tiny hand shakes Alex awake, and he opens his eyes to find Wren there holding her stuffed teddy bear against her chest, cheeks wet from crying. “I wet the bed.”
“Oh,” Alex says, while his heart rate settles. He looks around to get his bearings and finds you out of it to his right, curled up on your side. He blinks the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes as Wren sniffles miserably, and he pushes up to wipe her jaw dry. “Hey, it’s okay, baby. It just happens sometimes, alright?”
“But I'm not ‘posed to,” she croaks. “I’m supposed to be a big girl now. I’m sorry.”
“No, hey,” Alex kisses her forehead. “It’ll be fine, come on.”
She holds onto his hand and he leads her into the bathroom, running the water to warm and filling the tub with strawberry-scented bubbles. Once she’s in, he lets her play with her rubber ducks for a while to calm down. She splashes them and chews on their tails and presses their drawn-on smiles to his cheek as a kiss. "Muah," she says, and he loves her so much it hurts.
He runs a hand over her damp hair. “I’m gonna go fix your bed, okay? Just keep playing.”
Wren nods, so he leaves her with the door wide open and the light cascading into the hall. Strips her bed of the old sheets and carries them over to the wash. When he comes back, she’s resting her chin against the edge of the tub, waiting for him.
His head tilts, looking down at her big eyes on her little face. “Hey, Peanut.”
“Hi,” she says, timid. “Do you still love me?”
Alex frowns and sits down in front of her on the cold tile. “Why wouldn’t I still love you?”
“M’no good,” she whispers. “M’not small anymore, and I miss you all the time, and—”
“Alright, hey,” Alex cuts in gently, pushing her hair behind her ears to hold her face, all flushed chubby cheeks. He hates himself. Feels like he has made her feel this way. Made her feel unloved and he'll beat himself up for it every day. Never forgive himself for making her doubt his love. "I know I’ve been gone a lot, and I’m really sorry, but I miss you the whole time I’m away. All I wanna do is be here with you, okay? I promise. I love you,” he says, kissing her freckled nose and watching it crinkle up, “so much. I hope you know that.”
She nods, bites her lower lip, and chews. “You love mummy?”
“Yes,” Alex says. “Tons.”
“Is tons a lot?” She asks, and he notices her eyes flit over his shoulder, which gives him a pretty good idea of why she’s asking.
“It is,” he confirms, glancing behind him and finding you in the doorway, hair thrown up, wearing that ratty old red tee. You grin and lean against the door jamb, eyes soft. “The better question is: does mummy love daddy?”
You laugh. “Tons squared,” she promises. “Come on, it’s bedtime, baby.”
“Can I sleep with you?” Wren asks, anxious.
Alex kisses her cheek. “Of course,” he says and leans around her to pull the drain. You come over to help her dry off and Alex goes to grab her fresh pajamas. You both help her dress because she’s all sleepy from the warmth of the bath, and she’d get lost in her shirt if you weren’t around. Alex picks her up and carries her to their bed, laying her down between them so they can both hold her.
"You okay, honey?" You ask Wren, running your fingers through her hair, calming her like you do for him.
She nods, her eyes slowly closing, sleep taking her away from you.
Alex kisses her cheek lightly, not wanting to disturb her sleep. "Love you."
You repeat his action, kissing her baby skin cheek. "Me too." But she's already fallen asleep, exhausted from her little life.
You look across at Alex, his eyes cautiously looking over Wren. "Hey," you whisper to him to grab his attention. His gaze meets yours, his eyes solemn, but affectionate. "Love you."
He smiles because that's just what he needs. That's all he'll ever need. "Me too."
*
A hand pushes on your back somewhere around 4 in the morning. You turn around at the expected sight: Willow holding her stuffed teddy bear, thumb in her mouth, scared little eyes.
"What's wrong, baby?" You ask her, reaching out and smoothing back her messy hair.
"I had a night'are." Her voice wobbles. Alex and Wren are still sound asleep. You reach down to pick her up, laying her on your chest and hugging her to you, wanting to keep her safe from all the evil things awakening her.
"Everything's okay," you reassure.
"What's wrong?" You turn to see Alex, alert and worried rubbing his eyes.
"Nightmare."
Willow turns her head to look at her dad. "Oh," she says, "there's Wen. I was scared she wasn't where she was."
Alex reaches his arm over a sleeping Wren and rubs Willow's back, hushing her rapid heartbeat. "She's been in here. She got scared too but she's okay. She's sleeping now."
Willow keeps her voice low, understanding to keep quiet. "I went lookin' for her but she wasn't in her room."
"Why did you go to her room, honey? Why didn’t you come in here?" You ask.
"'Cause I always go there when I'm scared. Wen goes 'Everyting's okay' and then I know it will be 'cause she said so." She's so sweet, she hides it sometimes, doesn't like to give it away, she's careful with who she gives it to and you're sure nobody loves someone like Willow and Wren love each other. For that, Alex doesn't have to worry. He knows Willow and Wren will always look out for each other.
You kiss Willow's cheek and slide her carefully next to Wren. The bed is just big enough to fit you all but you have to hold steady to not tip off the bed. The girls are comfortable though and that's all that matters.
"We should sleep in here all the time," Willow says.
You and Alex both laugh quietly at your little girl. "Maybe," Alex says.
"Pep should be here too."
So, Alex goes and gets Pepper.
*
a/n: i hope the names are fine. i just tried to pick two twin-sounding names. whatever that means.
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callsigns-haze · 1 day
Note
Request
Could you do one with Tylerxfemale reader where it’s her birthday and she thinks Tyler forgot but secretly he is planning a special night for her. You can do it with or without tornados causing chaos.
Happy Birthday
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader
Summary: Tyler surprises Y/N with a secret birthday celebration after she thinks he forgot, turning her day into an unforgettable memory filled with love and joy.
Warning: Contains emotional moments and romantic surprises.
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the bedroom as Y/N slowly woke up. She stretched lazily, her mind still groggy from sleep. It took a moment for her to remember what day it was—her birthday. A smile spread across her face as she imagined how the day would go. Tyler had always been good at making her feel special, and she couldn’t wait to see what he had planned.
But as the minutes ticked by, the smile began to fade. Tyler wasn’t in bed beside her. The usual smell of freshly brewed coffee and breakfast wasn’t wafting through the air. The apartment was eerily quiet. Y/N sat up, frowning. Maybe he was just running late?
She slipped out of bed, wrapping herself in a cozy robe, and padded out to the kitchen. It was empty, and the counter was bare. No pancakes, no birthday card, nothing. A small pang of disappointment tugged at her heart. Had Tyler really forgotten her birthday?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, her phone buzzed on the counter. She picked it up, hoping for a text from Tyler, but it was just a reminder for an appointment later in the week. Sighing, she set the phone back down and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. Tyler was probably just busy. He’d remember—he had to.
Y/N decided to make herself some breakfast, trying to keep her spirits up. She couldn’t let a little forgetfulness ruin her day. But as the morning turned into afternoon, there was still no word from Tyler. He hadn’t even sent a text. The disappointment grew stronger, making it harder to enjoy her day.
By mid-afternoon, Y/N was curled up on the couch, watching TV but not really paying attention. She was lost in thought, trying to understand why Tyler, who was usually so thoughtful, would forget something as important as her birthday.
As she was contemplating whether to reach out to him or not, the front door creaked open. Y/N turned her head, seeing Tyler walk in with a casual smile, as if it were any other day.
“Hey, babe,” he greeted, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “How’s your day going?”
Y/N tried to hide her disappointment but couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice. “It’s fine. Just… another day.”
Tyler looked at her with a slight frown. “You okay? You seem a little down.”
She bit her lip, debating whether to say something. After a moment, she decided to just ask. “Did you… forget what today is?”
Tyler’s expression remained neutral, but there was a hint of confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Y/N’s heart sank. “It’s my birthday, Tyler.”
His eyes widened in realization. “Oh, God, Y/N… I’m so sorry. I’ve been so caught up with work that I—” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to make you feel forgotten.”
Y/N nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay, I just thought—”
Before she could finish her sentence, Tyler pulled her into a tight hug, pressing his lips against her hair. “I’m so sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you.”
She hugged him back, feeling a bit better in his arms, but the sadness still lingered. “It’s fine, really. I just wanted to spend the day with you.”
He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. “And we will. How about we go out for dinner? Anywhere you want, my treat.”
Y/N forced a smile and nodded. “That sounds nice.”
Tyler smiled back, but there was something in his eyes, a flicker of something Y/N couldn’t quite place. Before she could dwell on it, he kissed her softly, then stood up. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll make a reservation at your favorite place.”
Y/N agreed, heading to the bedroom to change. As she picked out a dress, she tried to shake off the lingering disappointment. Tyler was trying to make up for it, and that’s what mattered.
A couple of hours later, Y/N and Tyler arrived at the restaurant. It was a cozy, intimate place that they often went to for special occasions. The hostess greeted them warmly and led them to a table near the back, away from the noise of the main dining area.
Tyler was being extra attentive, pulling out her chair for her and making sure she was comfortable. He even ordered her favorite wine, trying to make up for the morning. But despite his efforts, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The day had just started on the wrong foot, and it was hard to get back into the celebratory mood.
As they waited for their food, Tyler kept the conversation light, asking about her day and sharing stories from work. But there was still that flicker of something in his eyes, something that made Y/N feel like he was holding back.
Just as she was about to ask him what was going on, the waiter arrived with their meals. Y/N’s plate was placed in front of her, but instead of the usual entrée she expected, there was a small envelope sitting on the edge of the plate.
She frowned in confusion and looked up at Tyler, who was watching her with a knowing smile. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the envelope.
“Open it,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a grin.
Y/N hesitated for a moment before carefully opening the envelope. Inside was a small, handwritten note that simply said, Turn around.
Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at Tyler, who nodded toward the door behind her. Slowly, she turned in her chair and gasped.
Standing in the doorway was a small group of her closest friends and family, all holding balloons, flowers, and gifts. They were smiling brightly, and behind them, a banner hung with the words Happy Birthday, Y/N!
Tears filled her eyes as she turned back to Tyler, who was now grinning from ear to ear. “You… you planned this?”
He stood up and walked around the table to her, pulling her into his arms. “Of course I did. I would never forget your birthday, babe. I wanted to surprise you.”
Y/N laughed through her tears, hugging him tightly. “You sneaky, sneaky man. I really thought you forgot.”
Tyler pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I wanted to make sure you had a birthday to remember. And I wanted to do it right.”
The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, hugs, and heartfelt wishes. Y/N’s friends and family filled the room with love, making her feel special in a way she hadn’t expected. Tyler was by her side the entire time, his earlier act of forgetfulness completely forgiven.
As the night wound down and the restaurant began to empty, Tyler took Y/N’s hand and led her outside to a quiet corner of the patio. The stars were shining brightly above, and the cool night air was refreshing after the warmth of the celebration.
Tyler turned to her, a serious expression on his face. “There’s one more thing,” he said softly.
Y/N looked up at him in surprise. “Tyler, you’ve already done so much…”
He shook his head, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “This is for you,” he said, holding it out to her.
Her breath caught in her throat as she took the box, her hands trembling slightly. She opened it slowly, revealing a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a small heart. Inside the heart was a tiny, sparkling diamond.
“Tyler,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “It’s beautiful.”
He gently took the necklace from the box and fastened it around her neck. “I wanted to give you something to remind you of how much I love you, every day.”
Y/N touched the pendant, her heart swelling with love for the man standing in front of her. “I love you so much, Tyler. Thank you for making this the best birthday ever.”
He smiled, pulling her into a slow, tender kiss. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he murmured against her lips.
As they stood there under the stars, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N knew that this was a day she would never forget. Tyler had given her not just a birthday to remember, but a love that would last a lifetime.
tagging some:
@senawashere
@saviorcomplexrry
@cevansbaby-dove
@saynotononsense
@missdottie
@willowisp7
@taorislover94
@eloquenceinpurple
@86laura11
@rosiahills22
@jessicab1991
@kmc1989
@shanimallina87
@eternalsams
@teen-antisocial
@katiemcrae
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periprose · 18 hours
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Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)
AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.
Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)
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Word Count: 2.9k
Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)
LGGA Masterlist
Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.
It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 
Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.
So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.
Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.
“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.
“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.
Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.
It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 
You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.
Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.
He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 
Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 
Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?
“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”
“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”
“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 
It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.
“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.
“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”
Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.
Not like that, though.
“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 
“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.
/
Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 
It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.
“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.
“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.
Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”
You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.
You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 
“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.
“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.
“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”
“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”
You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”
“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”
“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.
If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.
Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 
He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.
But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?
Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.
He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.
Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.
Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”
Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.
The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.
Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 
“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.
You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.
“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.
Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.
He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.
Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.
Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.
“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.
He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.
Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.
With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.
He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 
“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”
“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.
You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.
Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.
You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.
Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 
“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.
“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.
Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.
You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.
Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.
It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.
You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.
“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”
There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.
He feels better around you, too.
You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.
Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.
/
He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.
Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.
“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.
“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 
“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 
Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.
Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.
Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.
It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.
It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.
“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.
“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”
“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.
You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.
You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.
“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.
/
When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.
He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.
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gilverrwrites · 3 days
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yknow, something about dick grayson—golden boy, beloved, etc—falling for the forgotten sionis!reader feels entirely poetic for both of them that I love it so much
Dick Grayson/Sionis!Reader [Post in reference] gah yeah I love them, I'm so glad ya'll are seeing my vision! 💙 Like you said, theirs just something so ✨ about them
Here's a 1000 of fluff/Dick being a simp just cause I was thinking about them today. Like, they're getting ready for their first public event since they told their families; you're so nervous about seeing your father again since he’d snapped at you, telling you (to paraphrase from Roman’s much more colourful language:) no daughter of his would date a Wayne and he didn’t want to see you again until you'd come to you senses, which Dick thought was awfully rich from a man who barely made an effort to see his daughter anyway.
That night Dick is in a bad mood. He hasn’t really enjoyed these functions in years, of late he’d only ever made the effort to go when Bruce had asked him to; the silver lining always being that he might catch a glimpse of you. But you’d insisted on going tonight in order to keep up appearances. It drives him mad that even after everything they put you through, even after they’ve practically cut you out, you’re still trying so hard to please them. Him. Roman. He never deserved you for a daughter, none of them deserved you. But it’s not his call to make, he said he’d support you, whatever your decision and he wholeheartedly intends to keep that promise.
He's adjusting his bowtie in the warped reflection of the toaster for the fourth time when you emerge from the bedroom in a dress he hasn’t seen before, and trust that he remembers every dress he’s ever seen you in. It stops him mid-fold, compelling him to twist on the spot to soak you in. It’s mesh, with a tasteful amount of sparkle, a whole lot of delicate embroidery and it’s a very familiar shade of deep blue to boot.
“Is that new?” He asks, unable to stop his mouth from falling open.
“Um, kinda. New to me. Clarissa from wardrobe let me borrow it.” You explain as you give him a perfectly posed twirl, offering him a better look. The tulle skirt rises as you do so, like you’re his very own fairy princess. “Do you like it?”
“Clarissa from wardrobe.” He muses dreamily as he strides closer, stretching his arms out toward you. You reach back for him, but he dodges your embrace, locking his hands on your waist and hoisting you into the air for another spin. “Remind me to repay her with our firstborn.”
Despite his good humour and admiration. Dick is now actually in a worse mood. You’ve been so stressed the last few days. He both hates and understands how you allow your family to have that kind of power over you. He hates that he has to share you with a room full of pompous old men, and a family that can’t see past their own noses, and now has to do it while you look like that. While all he really wants to do is take you to a real dance hall, or a magic forest full of talking woodland creatures, or hell, back into the bedroom.
“So, that’s a yes?” Your voice is high and giggly as he drops you back onto the floor. Holding tight still, he brings you close to his chest, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and planting kisses along your collar. This is the most relaxed he’s seen you all day and he wants to make the most of it. Instinctively, your soft hands travel up his back, resting on his shoulders, and he can’t help but rock your bodies side to side as he continues to speckle his affections along your chest.
“Like it, I love it!” He murmurs into your warm skin. You haven’t put on your perfume yet, he can tell. He likes the aroma of your chosen fragrance, but even more, he loves your natural scent, and he relishes it as he works his way up your neck until you’re face to face once more. It’s you who kisses him, decisively planting your soft, painted lips on his and causing him to stop his sway in its tracks. When you pull back and look at him with your brilliant eyes, through those soft lashes, he can’t help but blurt his mind. “Are you sure you want to go to this thing?”
“Oh.” You hesitate, and it’s answer enough but he lets you finish anyway. “Yes… I’m not giving up on my family, or you.”
Your determination is endearing, commendable, and hopefully not as futile as he believes. Accepting Black Mask as his future father-in-law may not be easy, but if you mend that bridge, he’ll make it work. Whatever way he has to. He thinks this as he watches you retract from his arms, he doesn’t let you go however, holding onto your hand and following you back into the bedroom.
You settle at your vanity, clearing up your makeup and Dick crouches behind you. The side of his head rests against yours as he watches your face in the mirror. You try to swat him away, presumably to make whatever finishing touches you need to your make-up, but he refuses to go, grinning ear to ear as he dodges your beauty blender.
Eventually, you give up, starting on the other side instead. He sticks his tongue out in triumph, and you roll your eyes at him despite your begrudging smile.
You turn away from him to search your drawers for something and he notices the top button of your dress has come undone. His touch is gentle as he strokes the back of his knuckle from your nape, down to the hem of the dress, and he grins to himself when his finger evokes a serene sigh from you.
“Welp…” He starts, but you're barely with him, losing yourself to his caress. Your pretty lips jut out in a pout when he halts in order to refasten your button. “Welp, if you change your mind, and wanna go for ice cream on the pier, or, well, do anything else instead; the code is ‘fuck this, let's get out of here’.”  
Your pout does not subside, even as he resumes massaging the stress from your muscles. Not until he leans in to kiss your shoulder blade and promises; “Whatever you decide, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
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lavendernlilac · 2 days
Text
It’s late at night when Scar finally finishes up his rounds during patrol. He stands on top of a building, the colors of his Hotguy suit bright under the shine of the moon. He takes a look around, finding the streets of his city safe and quiet. He hasn’t dealt with much tonight besides a robber or two; typical.
He takes a glance at the time through his HUD display, wincing. 5:45am. Well, it’s not six in the morning, so that’s some sort of improvement. He lets out a sigh, shoulders sagging low. “Time to call it a night for this hot guy.”
Turning around, Scar takes off, jumping along rooftops with the braces of his suit pushing him forward. The air is crisp and cool as the breeze moves through the loose strands of his hair. They’re slowly approaching autumn, a thought that makes him smile faintly. He heads in the direction of home, but it isn’t his own apartment. No, no, it belongs to his other half.
It takes him roughly forty five minutes to reach his destination, stopping at the roof of the building right next to the apartments in front of him. Scar takes a careful glance around, making sure that there aren’t any extra eyes watching him. At most he finds a stray cat sitting on the fire exit stairs right by someone’s stairs that he coos at. Other than the cat, the coast is clear. Nodding to himself, Scar jumps down, landing carefully on the fire escape right by the window he’s looking for.
He gives the window a small test, pushing up on it. To his relief the window is unlocked, and he slips right inside the apartment. He climbs through, booted feet landing silently on the floor. Making sure to lock the window behind him, Scar takes a breath. He surveys the bedroom he’s in, the last bits of the moon spilling in through the window to create a streak of light. It’s just enough to light up the sleeping person in front of him, and instantly Scar softens at the sight.
See, he has the wonderful privilege of not only being a bodyguard to famous pop star Ariana Griande, but her boyfriend as well. Not that anyone knows about that second bit.
Taking a moment to simply admire his lovely girlfriend, Scar smiles softly. Her blanket is pulled up to her shoulders, one of her hands lying on the pillow next to her head. Grian’s glasses have practically fallen off her face, tilted and just barely clinging to her ears. Her long curls are splayed across her pillow, a few stray strands fallen in her face. He has to keep himself from giggling at the bit of hair in her mouth. The moonlight frames her perfectly, giving her a near ethereal glow as she sleeps comfortably under the covers. Scar has never been so enamored with someone before, so incredibly sure that she’s the only one for him.
Seeing her so cozy has Scar yawning, and he figures he may as well join her. He pulls his boots and bracers off, striping himself of the external parts of his suit. He’s left with the bare bones of it, just the pants and shirt. His bow and quiver sit against the wall, innocuous. Although after some thought Scar pulls his shirt off as well. Before climbing into bed with Grian, he sets his visor on the nightstand. He also carefully takes Grian’s glasses off her face so that they don’t break in her sleep.
He knows how much she hates wearing contacts, she wears them enough as is when she performs as Griande.
Glasses safe, Scar tiptoes around the bed, deeming it safer to get in on the other side. Standing at the edge of the bed, Scar cringes as the springs creak right when his knee touches the mattress. He powers through it, hoping to avoid waking Grian. And he thinks he does a pretty good job of it!
Scar comfortably lays down on his side, facing Grian’s back. He scoots toward her, holding his breath as he ever so slowly wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. He gets a hint of Grian’s strawberry scented shampoo and instantly relaxes, comfortable. This? This is the perfect way to end a quiet night of patrol. Scar sighs with content, pressing a kiss to Grian’s hair. He lets his eyes fall shut and—
“Well you’re here earlier than yesterday.”
He yelps at the sound of her voice, flinging himself back. “G-G-Grian!” he exclaims, startled. He sets a hand against his chest, feeling how his heart races. “Oh my gosh you scared me—how long have you been awake?!”
Grian laughs, the sound full of mischief and melody. “Would it make you feel better if I said you woke me up when you took my glasses off?” she asks. “I was already awake but I can pretend.”
Scar heaves a breath, shaking his head. “Of course you were awake as soon as I got in. You’re such a light sleeper.”
“Nah, I just sleep better when you’re here,” Grian sleepily answers, rolling over to face him. She greets him with a cheeky smile, and Scar can’t help but return it.
“Hi, beautiful.” He reaches for her once more, kissing her nose. Just like Grian, he sleeps a lot better with her in his arms.
Grian playfully rolls her eyes at him, affection soft in her expression. “Hi, handsome,” she returns. “Not hiding any injuries on me this time, are you?” She squints at him with suspicion through the darkness.
“No ma’am!” Scar denies. “Unless you count some little bruises, that is,” he amends after a moment, thinking about it. “Some robbers wanted to play tough rather than sitting still to wait for the cops. Not to worry though, they were no match for good ol’ Hotguy.” He grins at her, slipping his hand under the cotton shirt she wears. The act feels so natural, as he settles his palm against the middle of her back.
“Scar, your hand is cold!” Grian yelps as he touches her. “Out! You can touch me when you’re warm.” She frowns.
He looks at her with a small pout, “Oh Grian, you’d let me suffer with cold hands all by myself? After spending the night bravely fighting against evil?”
“Yes.” Grian doesn’t hesitate with her answer.
Scar ups the antics, pulling out the puppy dog eyes as he pleads with her. "You won't even warm me up?"
"You can put your hands under the blanket if you want them to be warm," Grian replies, refusing to give in.
"But Griaaaaan," he whines at her, looping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "You're my favorite blanket."
"Scar!" Grian huffs at him, setting her hand against his chest. She sighs with fond exasperation, "of course you're not wearing a shirt."
Scar hums, nuzzling his cheek against her head. "I thought you liked seeing me shirtless?" he teases, pressing his cold palm further against her back. He grins as he feels her shudder in his grasp. "Gets you all weak in the knees."
"Oh my god, shut up and get under the covers before you start freezing." Grian moves back to let Scar pull the blankets up, giving him room.
Wasting no time, Scar joins her under the covers with a content sigh. He feels the warmth almost immediately, and Scar practically melts. "Oh sweet warmth, I could fall right asleep just like this," he hums. "Although, something is missing." Meeting Grian's eyes, Scar grins at her before reaching out, pulling his girlfriend right into his chest once more. And just to be extra mischievous, Scar slips his hand under her shirt again. Though, some of the effect is lost now that his hand is a bit warmer. "There we go. Now I'm all ready for bed."
Grian huffs lightly at him, tucking her head under his chin. He smiles as her arm wraps around him, scooting closer. "I'm glad you're not hurt," she mumbles to him. "Else I would've had Skizz track those guys down so I could give them a piece of my mind."
Scar laughs in return, the sound full of warmth as he runs his fingers through her hair. "I'm a superhero, sweetheart. It's a part of the job description."
"I don't care," Grian grumbles, pressing her lips against his chest.
His chest swells with affection, and Scar squeezes her in his arms. "Maybe I should start calling you Hotgirl then," he teases.
Grian pinches him, "Absolutely not, if you call me that I'll lock my window next time you want to sneak in late."
He laughs again, and god he loves this girl. He'd give her the whole world if she asked him to. He'd steal the sun right out of the sky just to gift it to her to see her smile if he could. Scar doesn't care what price he'd have to pay, he'd do anything to make Grian happy, to keep her happy for as long as he lives. He moves back, looking down at her. "I love you," he says, voice soft like honey, vibrant and thick and so painfully sweet.
She smiles at him, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. "I love you too." Grian pulls him down, pressing their lips together with soft intention. Scar melts into it with ease, like it's as natural as breathing; with Grian it is. There's nothing easier than being with her. He moves his lips against hers lightly, nipping at her bottom lip. Grian sighs quietly, one of her hands moving to tangle in his hair, pulling it out of the ponytail he keeps it in. Scar pulls her closer against him, pressing his lips a little harder against her.
Grian lets him move her, feeling him nudge his knee in between her legs. His thumb strokes her back lovingly as he nips at her lip once more, earning himself a pretty, yet muffled noise from her.
Yet before they can go any further, Grian pulls away, breathing heavy as she looks at him. Her hand remains in his hair, strands tangled around her fingers. "As much as I love where this is going, you've been out all night and haven't gotten any rest," she says.
Scar pouts, but doesn't argue against her. He is tired. He sighs dramatically, "I guess going to sleep would be better than staying up and having a good time with you."
Grian groans at the pun on his name, knocking her head against him. "You're insufferable. Go to sleep, Scar."
He chuckles at her reaction, bundling her up in his arms. "Alright, alright. Good night, my pretty bird."
"Good night, Scar," Grian sighs softly, setting her head right under his chin, embracing him. "...thank you for coming home in one piece."
Scar lets his eyes fall shut, tucking his face into her hair. "For you? Always."
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bluebirdinhissky · 3 days
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A best friend’s duty is to help you when you’re having a nightmare. Hyunjin x fem Y/N. My usual disclaimer, english is not my first language, sorry for the errors!.
Hyunjin woke up when he felt a smack on his arm and then an elbow blow to his stomach. Such a rough way to be waken up but he didn’t open his eyes; she had the habit to move a lot in her sleep and change positions quite often and it would not be the first time his best friend punched him by accident while moving in her sleep. He was still so tired from his trip to Milan, that he didn’t have the strength and will to go back to his room last night when they were pretending to watch a movie together but in reality he was telling her all about the after party. He thought about how much fun it was but he couldn’t deny, he would’ve loved her to be there too. He tried not to think too much about it though, he was very well aware of his feeling for her but he was trying to ignore them because he didn’t want to start acting awkward and ruin things. He then thought about how Changbin’s first question when he arrived to their home was “did you bang any model?” with a grin on his face. Hyunjin snorted at the thought. He could have, but no, he prided himself on being faithful to her even if he hadn’t confessed yet and even if she might not want him the same way. His heart belonged to her, and his heart would not let his body be with someone else.
His thoughts were interrupted by a moan, which made him open his eyes but he was too shy to look at her. It was not the first time they’d slept in the same bed, it was something that would happen often because they were used to have late night conversations or art sessions until they were too tired to go back to their own bedrooms. He knew she didn’t talk in her sleep and she had never made a noise before. He remained still and barely breathing. Maybe he heard wrong.
Another moan. He couldn’t believe he was actually listening to the sounds he had only imagined and daydreamed about. He licked his lips and bite at them. The bed mattress moved next to him and he knew she was moving restless. Was she awake and touching herself, or was he dreaming?. He blinked repeatedly while the mattress was still moving and she was now whimpering. For a few seconds, Hyunjin was lost in the sounds she was making until he felt and saw her arm moving and accidentally smacked his own arm again. He looked at her. She had her eyes closed, sleeping, obviously having a nightmare. He felt guilty for not looking before and instead enjoying the noises.
“Hey” he said and shook her shoulder while hugging her, “hey, wake up, it’s okay”. He shook her again and felt her body trembling underneath him. Her hands reached to his shirt and tugged it hard, she was breathing fast.
“Hyunjin” she whispered slowly and very quietly, her hands released his shirt and desperately looked for his hands.
“Shhh, it’s okay, you’re awake now and you’re with me, nothing will harm you”, one hand remained on hers while the other caressed her hair.
She closed her eyes, moved his hand and placed it on her chest, right where her heartbeat was. Hyunjin could lightly feel the beating as he was trying to concentrate not to get hard at the wrong moment, but having his hand so near her boobs made him nervous. He really tried to focus on making her feel better.
“Let’s do a breathing exercise, okay?”
She nodded.
“Breathe in…” they breathed together, “hold it, and breathe out”. He paused for a moment and repeated the same words. He felt her hold in his hand over her chest soften. After repeating the exercise for a while she was breathing normally.
“Thank you”, she told him quietly while burying her face in the crook of his neck. His arms embraced her.
“You’re welcome. Any time. I’m here” he whispered to her, “what were you dreaming about?”. The moment the question left his lips he felt guilty for bringing the topic to conversation, but he wanted to know everything about her.
“I don’t know…” a sigh escaped her lips, “I think… I was drowning”.
Oh right, he remembered she had thalassophobia. His guilty feelings came again when he also remembered the joke he had said last night about how her bean bag in the dark looked like a big shark opening its mouth ready to devour her, but surely a shark joke would not give her nightmares, right?.
“Well, you’re safe now. I will not let you anywhere near the sea”, he said jokingly and she giggled. He looked at her intensely for some seconds until she covered his eyes with her hand. It’s a habit she would have whenever he looked intensely at her for several seconds, and that would make him laugh, knowing he made her nervous when he was acting cute on purpose.
“Stop”, she laughed and removed her hand from his eyes. Hyunjin’s eyes were still fixed on her. He smiled and she closed her eyes.
“Stop what?”, he said, moving his face closer to hers.
“Stop acting cute. You always do that”
“I can’t help it. I AM cute”, he said in an overly confident tone and then laughed at himself. His confidence made his face move even closer to hers.
“You’re cute to everyone”, she said softly while moving her face slightly back.
“You think so?” He moved his face back too, cocky smile gone. He bit his lips. Something in her tone made him feel like she meant he was a flirt, and he didn’t want her to think that because it was not true, he was hers. “That’s not true”, he tried to defend himself.
“You’re cute to the Kids and to Stays”
“Well… they’re family. Of course I am cute to them” he smiled again.
“So I’m family too?”
He wanted to roll his eyes, because yes, she was close to him that way but no, he wanted her differently. He wanted her the way he’d never want anyone else before. But he couldn’t tell her. Not yet.
“Humm no?… like, you are my best friend”, he gave her the best smile, knowing that he might’ve screwed things by labeling her officially as best friends.
“Best friends then” she smiled and returned her face to be hidden in the crook of his neck.
Hyunjin hated not having the courage to confess yet, but hopefully, he would do that soon.
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afyrian · 3 days
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line three - lovely little detail m.list
    "i just can't get a handle on him," you lean against the employee lounge's counter, fingers clenching a small stir stick as it swirls around the contents of your mug.
  the creamer and sugar disappear into the dark cup of coffee, your mug feeling warm against your knuckles. biting your lip, you watch as sakusa talks to atsumu. there's an air to him, the way he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, a warm smile on his lips. while atsumu looks likes he's coming from the pits of hell, bags heavy underneath his eyes. 
  his late night talk show typically ended when yours started, giving the two of you to chat before he left for the day. and yet you had never seen sakusa with him, never smiling, joking about something you'd love to hear. "no, you just love a mystery," yachi exclaims, holding her tea close to her, the small paper tag resting off to the side. 
  "no-" you start, looking over at her, shaking your head, "no. he's a new coworker who won't talk much. you know how much bo- my old sound engineer talked. i miss it sometimes and it makes me more jittery in between calls," you shrug, pursing your lips in an attempt to come off as nonchalant. 
  "and him being attractive is what? just a lovely little detail," she rolls her eyes, smiling over at you as her eyebrows arch upwards.
  shaking your head, you look up at the station's old clock above the door. it has seen the test of time, but some of the managers like to say it's been there since the station opened. that it's there as a good luck symbol. the chipped glass and cobweb weaving between it and the ceiling would seem to differ though. 
  "don't you have some sewing to do?" you question, knowing you have just under ten minutes before you have to reconvene in your booth. 
  “don’t you have some sewing to do?” yachi mocks, grabbing a small packet of honey for her tea, “fine, you don’t want to admit it. but just know i do know the office’s code of conduct about employee relations and my lips are sealed.”
  bringing her index finger and thumb up to her lips, she runs it along her lips, flicking her index finger as they reach her cheek. her eyes move rapidly between you and sakusa, tilting her head slightly in his direction. before yachi can make it out the door to get back to work, she calls out to sakusa and atsumu. “you guys are coming to that celebration thing tonight, right? i’m trying to talk y/n into coming,” she smiles, knowing full well you never wanted to go. 
  “oh yeah, the twenty-fifth anniversary? i’m going to be late, but i think sakusa’s gonna be there early to help get some seats,” atsumu nods, knocking his knuckles against the table, letting out a short echo in the lounge.
  “really? y/n should join him, she always has good luck with those sorts of things,” yachi waves her hand, like it’s no big deal, and she’s not feeding you to the metaphorical wolves. 
  feeling your whole body go jittery, you want to blame it on the coffee in your hand, but you know better. the thought of something as daunting as sitting silently with sakusa, without your gear around you, is terrifying. “oh y/n, you should meet him down there, he’ll be getting there around five,” atsumu brings his hand up, hitting sakusa in the stomach. 
  “okay.. i’ll think about it, but we should get heading to the booth, get ready for the show,” you nod, running your finger around the rim of your mug, trying to change the subject and hopefully get back to work.
  getting to know sakusa and truly working with him sounds like a dream… but the way yachi is going about it sends your heart rate spiking. “i’m right behind you,” he mutters, following you out of the lounge, sliding past yachi as she looks over to atsumu with an odd expression.
  sakusa says something behind you, talking quieter than he expected he would, his long legs carrying him over to you. he scratches his eyebrow as he catches up to you, grimacing as you look back at him, “what’d you say?”
  “you don’t have to come tonight… sorry if atsumu made it seem like you have to,” sakusa shrugs, hands pushing into his jean pockets. 
  “oh no, it’s okay. yachi’s right, for some reason every time we go to a restaurant i have the impeccable luck of always having seats available. and with most of the crew coming, you’re probably gonna want you,” you smile, nodding as you talk.
  the slightly hidden humor in your voice brings a small smile to sakusa’s own face. “okay, that would be cool,” he mutters, following you into the booth, shutting the door behind him, “it’ll be at the restaurant and bar down by onigiri miya, atsumu’s brother’s restaurant.”
  “okay, i will see you there, sakusa. make sure to bring a good attitude and an affinity for bar food,” you point at him, suddenly feeling an air of confidence as you sit in your chair, the cushions feeling comfortable against your back. 
  nodding, he walks into the sound booth, hiding his face from you. pulling the microphone down to you, you pull your headphones on, smiling to yourself. watching as the timer counts down to when you’re starting. glancing towards the sound booth, his hand is up by his mouth, eyes adamant about staring down at his equipment.
  tapping the table with your finger, you wonder if possibly you’ve gotten through to him. if possibly you’ve broken the shell that he keeps himself hiding behind. as the clock ticks down to one, you take in a deep breath, “hello everyone and welcome to talk it out. today, before we begin our usual conversations, i have a bit of an announcement. it’s the stations twenty-fifth anniversary!” 
  a short cheering noise carries through your headphones as sakusa sets it off. “today between our talks, i’ll be giving some facts about the station and my time here. but that’s for when the time comes, line one, what would you like to talk it out about with me today?” 
taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon
@jadeoru @yessimo @lale-txt @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sugacor3
@quikhs @todorokiskitten @mollyrolls @honeyfewr @pookiebearcave
@phoenix-eclipses @madiexuberant @kameyyy @cr4yolaas @asrichin
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lady-of-tearshed · 3 days
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ok…hear me out, a fic where cassian has a kid (prob adopted or smth) that’s nonverbal bc trauma or disability reasons, and it kinda wears on cass so one night he’s like talking to rhys about how his kid isn’t normal, and the kid went to get some water but overhears the whole thing - just angst to comfort
love your writing btw💗💗
Beautifully different
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Pairing: Nessian & Their kids (Oc!Briana & Oc!Zion)
Summary: Cassian has a lot of pent-up frustration and worries about his son, Zion, who is diagnosed with selective mutism. He slips up in front of Zion, and now he has to apologize and make it better.
Word count: 1368 words
Warnings: Disabled child (selective mutism), angst, miscommunication, a bit of swearing, allusion to Nessian conceiving another child.
Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears ❤️
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“It’s called selective mutism,”
Cassian could still remember the confusion and worry that had set in his head the day Madja had announced the diagnosis of his son, Zion. 
Cassian’s grip tightened around his mate’s shoulders, his jaw clenched with anger. “So he’s not talking on purpose?” 
“No,” Madja’s voice had softly reassured him and Nesta, whom was crying against Cassian's chest. “No, it’s not how it works. It’s a rare childhood anxiety disorder. It’s the brain response to a trigger that makes Zion unable to speak in certain situations or around certain people,”
He remembered how it made his stomach twist with guilt, how the sight of his mate crying in his chest at the hard news had brought tears to his own eyes. But Madja’s comforting hand on his shoulder had calmed him down, grounded him. Her voice had enveloped his heavy heart and soothed his ache like a soft salve. 
“It is not your fault, to any of you,” Her other hand gently rubbed circles on Nesta’s back, calming down her sobs with her reassuring words. “There are treatments to attempt to cure this, and things you could do to help Zion’s condition to go away,”
“We’ll try anything,”
Cassian was a bit late to pick up his kids from Feyre’s studio. Madja had deemed it helpful to sign up Zion on recreational activities with other children for him to interact with, so Cassian and his mate did. Of course, Briana, the perfect big sister that she was, had insisted that she absolutely needed to go too so she could hold Zion’s hand if he got too shy (but mostly because she absolutely adored her auntie Feyre, and she was overly excited to make some art with her.), so Cassian and Nesta had no choice but to agree. As if he would’ve ever denied anything to his little princess anyway… 
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The doorbell rang when Cassian pushed the door open.
“DADDY!”
The tiny bundle of curly hair wrapped in pink chiffon jumped into his arms, and Cassian caught her up in his arms before twirling her around. He bit her chubby cheeks playfully, making Briana’s melodic giggle to fill the room. “Hello sweetie, I suppose you had a great day?”
“The bestest day ever!”
Cassian huffed a laugh before putting her down on the floor slowly. He lifted his eyes and scanned the room, searching behind every canvas where the paint decorating them was still fresh and shining. Finally, his eyes landed on the one exposed on the easel exposed in the farthest corner of the room, where Zion sat, absentmindedly applying the same shade of blue all over the white canva. 
Cassian had to hold back his cringe, and forced himself to not look at all the other kids' artworks and compare them to his son’s. Instead, he just caressed Briana’s hair. He crouched down to be face to face with her, and smiled.
“Hey, why don’t you go and play outside with your brother for a while? I need to talk with Auntie Feyre,” Briana opened her mouth to say something, but Cassian poked her nose and cut her off. “Alone.”
Briana sighed dramatically, pouting a little before taking her little brother’s hand and cheerfully dragged him along to the swings outside the studio. 
Cassian waited until he was sure that both of his kids were outside, playing, and not paying attention to him, then he made his way inside the studio. His ears led him to where water was running, and leaned in the doorway to where Feyre was cleaning a shit ton of paint brushes. Sometimes, the warrior wondered how she dealt with such messes weakly, for fun. 
A chuckle left his throat at the thought, and made Feyre’ face snap up from her task. A bright smile flashed over her red, blue, purple and yellow painted face. Feyre tried to wipe it away, noticing Cassian’s amusement glinting in his eyes, but her attempt very much failed, as it only resulted in spreading the paint all over her face even more. 
“Are you here solely to make fun of me, or to actually pick up your kids?”
Cassian chuckled, scratching the back of his neck while a flush of embarrassment creeped up his cheeks. “Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit late to pick up the kids I know… I was…” He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the mental image of how busy him and Nesta had been. “Busy.”
“Busy making more of those little ones?” 
Nosy woman. 
“How has it been for them today?”
“They’ve been good. Briana has made some progress on her painting today…” Feyre frowned, hesitating. Then she shrugged, avoiding the topic. “They’ve been good.”
“And Zion?” Cassian pushed, moving closer to where Feyre was washing the paint brushes. “Has he… made any progress? Did he make any friends?” 
Feyre left the brushes in the sink and wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, he tried a different shade of blue on his canva today… He didn’t participate actively in the group today but…” She bit her lip and placed a hand on Cassian’s shoulder, “Maybe it’s normal, perhaps that’s just how he is you know… Maybe he’s happy like this-”
“Well I am not. A child needs to have social interactions to develop, Feyre. He’s not normal,” Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel his face heat up, his breathing getting as heavy as the guilt resting on his soul. “Madja was wrong. That kid will never be normal. He’ll never be like the other kids,” 
Anger bubbled up within him. How was his son not normal, when his daughter was? “Where the fuck did I mess up-”
A thud that came from the other room cut off Cassian. Both Feyre and his face snapped to the door, where a tiny wing peaked out. 
Feyre’s face twitched and she patted Cassian on the shoulder. “I’ll wait outside with Briana… and I’ll make sure that the front door stays closed while you talk it out.” 
Feyre quickly made her way out of the studio, cheeks red from the embarrassing situation. She carefully avoided eye contact with Zion’s heart-broken face. 
Cassian only stayed in the middle of the supply room, staring at Zion’s tiny wing peeking out of the doorway. He sighed, and ran a hand over his face. “Zion…” 
Zion hesitantly moved from his hiding spot and slowly dragged his feet in front of his father. His head was kept so low that Cassian couldn’t even see his eyes from where he stood. He kneeled in front of his boy, his warm palm coming to cup his cheek. His thumb brushed off some tears staining Zion’s cheek, but he still avoided his father’s eyes.
“I’m sorry I…” 
Cassian’s throat tightened, cutting off any sounds when the silent room filled with Zion’s choked sobs. He brought his face to his chest, his own tears now falling on top of his son’s head. He held him tight against him, as if he was afraid that the boy’s heart would crumble if he’d let him go. “I’m sorry, Zion. So sorry…” Cassian whispered against the boy’s ear, his hand rubbing slow circles on his back. 
Zion sniffled, his face now tilted up to look into his father’s eyes with so much sadness.
“I said horrible things, I’m sorry. Every kid is different, I know. I just…” His voice broke. Cassian looked up at the ceiling and inhaled deeply. He calmed his sobs down before taking control of his voice again. “I just want you to be happy, my son,” His eyes met Zion’s, the same shade of hazel eyes staring back at him. “But… I guess sometimes I need to remain myself that being happy for you sin’t the same as being happy for me,” 
Zion nodded, his little hands coming to wipe away Cassian’s tears, the same way he did for him. 
“Are you happy, Zion?” Cassian whispered, his face painted with concern. 
“You make me happy.”
And these were the most words Cassian had heard from his son, but the most beautiful ones anyone had said to him in all of his immortal life span.
Acotar taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover
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Cassian taglist: @ladybookstan
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
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on the flipside what about fuckgirl reader that falls for steve? maybe billy and eddie are after her too? 🫣😳🙈
Request by anon. (I hope you like this anon, I haven't written anything like before so it's a little bit soft and sweet)
mdni.
❤️
Steve is fast asleep beside you. It's early morning and you should be tired but you've been having trouble relaxing, ever since you had that small epiphany last night.
You liked Steve. You really liked Steve. This was just meant to be incredible sex and then the two of you would move on. Maybe you'd date Billy or that cutie Eddie Munson. Your fling with Steve was meant to be no strings, just like the rest of your relationships.
There was something about Steve that made you soft and eager for more of him. You wanted to know everything there was about Steve, you wanted to wake up every morning and find him beside you and fall asleep beside him every night.
This feeling was dangerous, you had never felt it before but Steve's sweetness, his kind and loving nature had brought down all of your walls. You had fallen deeply for him.
Steve moans as he wakes up, when he catches you staring and a warm blush coats his cheeks and he pulls you close to him so you're flush against his chest. You would never get tired of this feeling.
"Hey beautiful, you aren't leaving are you? It's cold out and I'll miss my sweet girl. I'll be lonely in this bed by myself" you giggle and press a kiss to his lips.
"I have a shift soon but I don't have to leave yet" you're perfectly happy to cuddle into his chest and stay here all day if you could.
Work comes calling eventually and when you leave a sleeping Steve it's like your heart is aching at the very thought. This was ridiculous. You'd see him tonight.
But it didn't stop you missing him as soon as you left.
❤️
Billy hasn't left you alone since you started your shift at the local library, he's been bugging you for the last half hour and normally you'd flirt back with him.
But now? Now the thought of flirting with Billy turned your stomach. Steve's handsome face would flash through your mind and you ignored Billy.
All you could think about was Steve. Did he even feel the same way? This was new territory for you and it was terrifying, how could you open up about your feelings when you were scared that Steve would reject you.
"Come on babe. Let's have some fun" Billy smirks and you shake your head as you return some books to their original place.
"No, I think you should leave me alone Billy" you snap and he backs off, holding his hands up.
"What's up with you? Don't tell me you're actually faking for a pretty boy like Harrington?" He snorts and the disdain in his voice irritated you.
"So what if I am? He's amazing so you can go to hell with that stupid attitude of yours" Billy holds up his hands looking stunned.
"Whatever. I'm out of here" he storms out and your brief a sigh of relief. That relief is short lived as you realise that the feelings you have for Steve are stronger than you thought.
Maybe you really did need to tell Steve how you felt?
❤️
It's late when you head back to Steve's, you had been plucking up the courage to talk to him all day and had avoided seeing him until you knew what to say.
The perfectly planned speech you had came up with disappears as soon as you see Steve. He's poring over lessons for his kindergarten class, trying to think up fun things to do that were also educational.
He had been working as a teacher for two years now and you knew it brought him a lot of joy.
You also knew that he was serious about having a whole brood of his own and for the first time you imagine having a child of your own with Steve.
Instead of scaring you, like thoughts of the future usually did, the very idea filled you with so much longing.
Instead of your carefully thought out planning about what you're going to say to Steve, you merely take a deep breath and settle on his lap.
His arms around you felt like coming home and you knew without a doubt you wanted this for the rest of your life. "Give me two minutes babe then I'm all yours" he assured you but the next words out of your mouth had his complete attention.
"I love you Steve. It's crazy because I've never been in love until now and I understand if you don't feel the same but I just needed to say it"
The look of shock on Steve's features melts away to a blissful smile.
Steve softens. "I'm crazy about you honey, I love you too and I know this is all new for you but we'll take it slow, we're a team and we'll do things together" he strokes your cheek and the elation you feel is incredible.
Together. You liked the sound of that.
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feinforyakk · 2 days
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"Momma Y/N: The Unofficial Jujutsu High Guardian"
---
You never planned on becoming the mother figure of Jujutsu High, but somehow it happened. One minute you were a sorcerer like everyone else, and the next, you were scolding Gojo for his irresponsibility and packing lunches for your students like they were your own kids. Now, you're the glue holding this chaotic family together.
Scene 1: Y/N’s Morning Check-In
You stroll into the common area with a basket of breakfast goodies, a warm smile on your face. Nobara is already up, fussing with her makeup, while Megumi sits quietly on the couch, buried in a book. Yuji bounds into the room with that same endless energy you’ve grown to love.
“Good morning, everyone,” you say cheerfully, setting the basket down.
“Morning, Y/N!” Yuji grins, immediately diving into the breakfast treats.
“Did you all eat properly this morning?” you ask, eyeing Megumi, who mumbles something incoherent.
Nobara rolls her eyes. “Y/N, we’re sorcerers, not children.”
“Doesn’t mean you can skip meals,” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “Megumi, eat something. And Yuji, slow down. You’re going to choke.”
The students smile, knowing this routine is now part of their lives.
Scene 2: Gojo Being… Gojo
As you’re cleaning up, Gojo saunters in, his usual smirk plastered on his face. “Ah, Y/N, my favorite person,” he drawls.
You narrow your eyes at him. “Gojo, what did you do this time?”
He chuckles, feigning innocence. “Nothing! But if you happen to get a call from the higher-ups about a mission I might’ve ‘forgotten’ to report...”
“Gojo,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You can’t just ‘forget’ about missions. You have responsibilities, you know.”
He shrugs playfully. “That’s what I have you for, Y/N. You keep me on track.”
You swat at him with a dish towel. “I’m not your babysitter.”
“Of course not,” he grins, leaning in closer. “You’re more like... the school mom.”
You shoot him a withering look. “Go do your job, Gojo.”
Scene 3: The Overprotective Mom Mode
Later in the day, you’re heading out with your students on a field mission. As always, you can’t help but worry.
“Megumi, stay close to Nobara. Yuji, don’t rush in without thinking, alright? And Nobara, please don’t antagonize any curses unnecessarily.”
They all nod in unison, half-listening, half-amused by your motherly concerns.
“Y/N, we’ve got this,” Yuji says with his usual grin, but you can’t help the way your heart clenches. You may not be their real mother, but you feel responsible for them in a way that goes beyond just being their mentor.
“I know,” you reply softly. “Just… be careful, alright?”
They all exchange knowing smiles before Yuji pulls you into a quick hug. “You worry too much, Y/N.”
“It’s my job,” you laugh, patting his head.
Scene 4: Bandaging Megumi’s Wounds
Back at the school after the mission, you find Megumi nursing a small cut on his arm. Of course, he hadn’t said a word about it during the mission.
“Megumi,” you scold softly, taking his arm gently. “You should have told me you were hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t resist as you pull out a first aid kit.
You carefully clean and bandage the cut, your touch gentle but firm. Megumi looks away, slightly embarrassed, but there’s a softness in his eyes. He won’t admit it, but he appreciates your care.
“You’re like a mother hen, Y/N,” Nobara teases from across the room, watching with a smirk.
You laugh, ruffling Megumi’s hair. “Someone has to look after you guys.”
Scene 5: Late Night Conversations
It’s late, and you’re sitting on the porch, enjoying a quiet moment when Yuji joins you. He looks thoughtful, his usual cheerful demeanor a little subdued.
“Something on your mind?” you ask, offering him a soft smile.
He hesitates, then sighs. “It’s just… I think about all the people we fight for, and sometimes it feels like we’re just cogs in a machine, you know?”
You place a hand on his shoulder, your gaze warm and understanding. “You’re not just a cog, Yuji. You make a difference. Every day, in everything you do.”
He smiles, the weight lifting from his shoulders. “Thanks, Y/N. You always know what to say.”
Scene 6: The Constant Worrier
You’re sitting at your desk, grading papers when Gojo walks in, his usual carefree grin in place.
“Y/N, you look stressed. Need a break?”
You look up, exasperated. “I wouldn’t be stressed if you didn’t let the students run wild half the time.”
He chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re always worrying about them. It’s cute.”
“Someone has to,” you reply, shaking your head. “They’re still kids, Gojo.”
“They’re stronger than you give them credit for,” he says softly, surprising you with his serious tone. “But... they’re lucky to have you. We all are.”
Your heart softens at his words, and you can’t help but smile. “Well, someone’s got to keep you all in line.”
Scene 7: Celebration Time
After a particularly tough mission, you decide to treat the kids (and Gojo) to a little celebration. You bring out a homemade cake, earning surprised but delighted looks from everyone.
“Y/N! You didn’t have to do this!” Nobara exclaims, already eyeing the cake with excitement.
You smile, feeling warmth fill your chest at their happiness. “You all worked hard. You deserve it.”
Yuji practically bounces in his seat, his energy contagious. “You’re the best, Y/N!”
Gojo, of course, takes credit. “See, this is why I keep you around, Y/N. You spoil us.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that escapes. “I spoil you because if I didn’t, you’d all fall apart.”
Scene 8: The Unofficial Jujutsu High Mom
It’s late again, and you’re the last one awake. As you pass by the dorms, you peek into each room. Megumi is fast asleep, his book falling off the bed. Nobara’s phone is beside her, the screen still lit. Yuji is sprawled out, as usual, snoring lightly.
You smile softly to yourself, closing their doors quietly. They may not be your biological children, but you feel fiercely protective of them. They’re your family now, in every way that matters.
As you make your way back to your room, Gojo’s voice calls out from behind you.
“Still doing your rounds, huh, mom?” he teases.
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Someone’s got to keep you all alive.”
Scene 9: Final Reflection
In the quiet of your room, you reflect on how this all started. You came here as a sorcerer, determined to teach and train the next generation. But somewhere along the way, you became something more to them. A guardian. A caretaker. A mom, in every sense of the word.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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hoodsturnedheros · 2 days
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Mar-Bit Babysitting Kat
It was late afternoon at the Curtis house, and Cherry Valance was brushing her fingers through her newborn baby girls red curls that matched hers perfectly. She was reminding herself that she’s making the right choice. It had only been a month and Sodapop and Cherry were both happy for their new bundle of joy but completely and utterly exhausted. Kat had colic, BAD. So a night out was something Cherry only dreamed of— in between Kat’s short sleep windows. But she’d been planning this night out for weeks—her first evening alone with Sodapop since the baby was born—and she was both excited and nervous.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Marcia?” Cherry asked for the third time, her eyes full of concern as she handed over a packed diaper bag. “Babies can be a lot of work.”
Marcia, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, gave Cherry a wide grin and waved her off. “Come on, Cherry, we’ve got this! It’s just one night. Besides, Two-Bit’s been dying to prove he can handle this kind of thing. Right, Two?”
From the living room, Two-Bit Matthews, lounging on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, nodded confidently. “Piece of cake, babe! I’ll have this little peanut laughing her head off before you two even make it to the drive in.”
Cherry bit her lip, still unsure, but Soda came up behind her, placing a reassuring hand on her waist. “They’ll be fine, Cher. We’ve got this night planned, and we deserve it. Kat will be in good hands. Plus, it’s only for a couple of hours.”
Cherry finally exhaled, giving her boyfriend a small smile before leaning down to kiss the baby’s forehead. “Alright, sweetheart, you be good for Uncle Two-Bit and Aunt Marcia, okay?”
Soda, giving Two-Bit a playful punch on the arm, added, “Just don’t let her learn any of your bad habits, man.”
Two-Bit grinned. “No promises.”
With one last look back at Kat, Cherry and Soda finally left the house, and Marcia stood in the kitchen watching them drive off.
“Well,” Marcia said, turning to Two-Bit with a mischievous smile, “looks like it’s just us and the baby now.”
Two-Bit stretched lazily on the couch before standing up and walking over to the crib where Kat lay, still quiet and content. “She’s not even making a peep. I told you, this is gonna be easy.”
Marcia raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Famous last words, Matthews.”
Kat stirred slightly, making a small cooing sound. Two-Bit reached into the crib and gently scooped her up, holding her awkwardly but carefully. “See? She likes me. I’ve got the magic touch.”
Marcia crossed her arms, laughing softly. “Don’t get too cocky. Babies can turn on you in a second.”
Two-Bit smirked. “Nah, not this one. Little Kit-Kat is too sweet for that.”
As if on cue, Kat’s little face scrunched up, and she let out a loud wail, her tiny fists flailing in the air.
Two-Bit’s eyes widened in panic, and he looked at Marcia like he’d just been handed a ticking time bomb. Moving the baby out to an arms distance. He stammered—“Uh... okay, what do we do?”
Marcia stifled a laugh and stepped forward, taking Kat from Two-Bit’s arms. “Let’s see if she needs to be changed first. Diapers are usually the culprit.”
Two-Bit looked visibly relieved as Marcia took control of the situation. She laid Kat down on the changing mat and expertly went through the motions of changing the diaper while Two-Bit stood off to the side, looking slightly out of his depth.
“How do you know how to do all this?” he asked, genuinely curious.
Marcia shrugged. “I’ve babysat before, remember? Besides, it’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”
Two-Bit crossed his arms, watching with a mixture of awe and confusion as Marcia quickly changed Kat into a fresh diaper. “Yeah, well, good thing you’re here. I’d probably be trying to change her with duct tape or something.”
Marcia laughed, picking Kat up again and cradling her in her arms. “Let’s just say it takes a little more finesse than that.”
Kat had quieted down now, her wide eyes blinking up at Marcia as she yawned. Two-Bit peered over her shoulder, making funny faces at the baby.
“You think she remembers me from all those times I made her laugh?” he asked, his voice playful.
Marcia rolled her eyes. “You’ve known her for like a month, Two.”
“Hey, that’s a lot of time in baby years!” He leaned in closer, sticking his tongue out at the little girl. She stared at him with a look of confusion before finally giving a tiny smile, and Two-Bit grinned like he’d just won a medal. “See? Told you she likes me.”
Marcia shook her head but smiled. “Okay, Mr. Baby Whisperer, let’s see how long that lasts.”
They spent the next hour trading off responsibilities. Marcia took care of most of the practical things—feeding Kat her bottle, making sure she was comfortable in her crib—while Two-Bit kept her entertained with goofy faces, noises, and random jokes. It wasn’t long before the baby started to grow tired, her eyes fluttering as she fought off sleep.
“Looks like she’s getting sleepy,” Marcia said softly, sitting on the couch with Kat resting in her arms.
Two-Bit sat down next to her, looking at the baby with a strange mix of amusement and awe. “Man, it’s weird seeing Soda with a kid. Like, we were just dumb teenagers not that long ago, and now he’s got this whole... family thing.”
Marcia nodded, her voice softer now. “Yeah, it’s kind of crazy. But I think it suits him. He’s good with her.”
Two-Bit smiled, thinking about how much Soda had changed since becoming a dad. “Yeah, he’s a good guy. Always has been. I guess that’s why he makes it look easy.”
Kat stirred slightly in Marcia’s arms, but she didn’t cry. Instead, she just nestled closer, her tiny hands gripping onto Marcia’s blouse.
“You’re not so bad at this yourself,” Marcia said, glancing over at Two-Bit. “For someone who’s never babysat before, I mean.”
Two-Bit gave her a cheeky grin. “Hey, what can I say? I’m a quick learner. Besides, Kit-Kat’s not so tough. I could handle another hour, no problem.”
As the evening wore on, the house grew quiet. Kat finally drifted off to sleep in her crib, and Marcia and Two-Bit sat together on the couch, talking in low voices so as not to disturb her.
When Cherry and Sodapop finally returned, looking refreshed and happy from their night out, they were met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping baby girl and two very proud babysitters.
“How’d it go?” Cherry asked, her eyes full of gratitude.
Marcia smiled, standing up from the couch. “It went great. She’s a little angel.”
Two-Bit gave a dramatic sigh, leaning back. “Told ya I had it under control.”
Soda clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man. We owe you one.”
“Just don’t make me change any diapers next time,” Two-Bit joked, his grin wide. “That’s Marcia’s department.”
Cherry laughed, her eyes softening as she looked at her sleeping daughter. “We’re so lucky to have you both. Really, thank you.”
As Soda and Cherry tucked Kat into bed and the house returned to its usual quiet, Two-Bit and Marcia exchanged a knowing glance.
“Guess we didn’t do so bad after all,” Two-Bit said with a wink.
Marcia smiled, nudging him playfully. “Not bad, greaser.”
With the night winding down, and Kat sound asleep, it was clear that babysitting wasn’t quite the disaster Two-Bit had expected. In fact, he might even say he had fun.
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macknus · 3 days
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Civilian x Crush kidnapped
TW: lady whump, lady whumpee, male whumpers, multiple whumpers, broken bones, kidnapping, kidnap whump, physical violence against a woman,
please be aware of the tags and don't engage if you don't like lady whump! Thank you :)
*~*~*~*~*
It was pouring out, Civilian realised with a groan, resting her forehead against the office window. “Another late night, Civilian?”
Civilian turned her head to see her crush stopped in the middle of the cubicle, his sweater draped over the crook of his elbow. He was just in his tee shirt that showed his defined arms.
That was just unfair, Civilian thought. Why does he have to have a nice face and body?
“Yeah. I’m trying to finish the report on the increase of Villain activity.”
Crush hummed with a nod and a pretty smile. “It seems we’re always the last two to leave,” said Crush.
“Probably because we have no lives,” Civilian said with a small laugh. Oh god she just said that. Out loud. To her crush. When he was probably gonna think she was a weird, boring loser now. Great. Perfect. And it started to rain heavier. Perfect. As if on cue.
To her utter surprise Crush laughed in reply, and not a forced laugh, like a proper, real one. Civilian could listen to that laugh all day.
“You don’t have to expose us like that, Civilian,” said Crush with a small shake of his head. He cleared his throat and then turned his body more towards Civilian. “Since we’re both workaholics and have no lives, how would you like to grab a drink with me?”
“Now?” Civilian asked, eyes going wide.
She looked like shit, and probably smelled like ink.
“Yeah. Now. Why not? I mean… like only if you want to…”
“Yeah, no. Now works,” said Civilian with a smile and Crush’s shoulders relaxed. Civilian quickly shut down her computer and started to gather her things before putting her jacket on and grabbing her crossbody bag before walking to Crush. He gestured towards the lifts and Civilian smiled and walked with him.
When they got into the lift, Crush pressed the ground floor button and the pair of them leaned against the back wall in silence.
Then they both tried to fill the silence at the same time.
“So what do—”
“This report you’re—”
Then they laughed and both said: “you go first.”
Civilian laughed again as a blush climbed Crush’s neck and coloured his cheeks pink. “I was asking,” Civilian continued. “What keeps you in so late every night?”
“Oh,” said Crush, then opened his mouth and a hesitant hum fell from his lips. His eyes almost nervous at Civilian’s question. “Okay, look. You can’t say it to anyone—”
“My lips are sealed,” said Civilian innocently, miming locking her mouth shut.
Crush smiled and leaned in closer to Civilian his voice dropping to a whisper, “you know the new guy? He covers politics…”
“Oh yeah. I’ve seen him around,” said Civilian, eyes bright as she looked at Crush.
“Yeah. He is such a shit writer,” said Crush and Civilian let out a startled laugh. “Don’t laugh. It’s not funny. I’m in late every night trying to fix it up and make it presentable.”
“No rest for the wicked,” said Civilian with a grin. Crush laughed.
“No,” he agreed. “We must be very wicked.”
“Extremely,” said Civilian, then as the doors open, she looked straight ahead as she added, “I’m going to tell him what you said.”
“Ah no. You can’t do that! I’m supposed to be an unbiased editor.”
“Still,” Civilian teased. Crush grabbed Civilian’s arm, stopping her from going out into the cold wet night. Civilian looked at his hand then up at Crush as he pulled an umbrella from his bag. He stepped out first into the little roofed area and opened the umbrella, holding it high enough for them both to fit under.
Civilian said, “you’re so prepared.”
Crush shook his head. “I just listen to the weather after the news.”
“Then what surprise is left in life, Crush?”
Crush brought her to his local bar just down the road, The Public Domain. Crush told her that a lot of lawyers around the area come drink here too. Civilian smiled politely. Crush always had a good network of people that he trusted for his sources. It always seemed like a secret, and now that he was bringing Civilian here, it felt… well, like he was willing to share it with her.
The bar was buzzing with chatter and life. The smell of carpet dust and stale beer greeted their senses the moment they stepped into it. Crush held the door open with his foot, shaking the excess rain off the umbrella before closing it. He smiled slightly when he caught Civilian’s eye and nodded towards the bar. Civilian got the hint and walked up to it with him. The bar was quaint and bustling with patrons, chatting animatedly, laughter occasionally punctuating the conversations leaving a nice rhythmic lull to the pub.
The barman grinned when he saw Crush. “Another late night, Crush?”
Crush’s hand went to the nape of his neck and rubbed it bashfully, it endeared Civilian to him even more if that was possible.
“Yeah, you got me.”
“The usual?” the barman asked, and Crush smiled and said, “yes. A Guinness please and—” Crush said, looking back at Civilian. He leaned into the barman and held up two fingers. “Actually, two please.”
“Two Guinnesses,” said Crush again, and took out his wallet as did Civilian. Crush pushed her hand back and said: “put that away, I’m getting it. We’re here on my invitation.”
“Fine. I get the next round,” said Civilian.
Crush cocked an eyebrow at her. “So confident we’ll have another.”
“I’m just ensuring you know what you’re in for,” said Civilian with a wink. She thanked Crush for the drink, and they went to a small booth in the back. The conversation flowed easy, easier than Civilian flirting with him in the printer room. Or at the office offering to get Crush a coffee from the canteen because she was going anyway. It was better, more intimate.
The conversation got back to work on her third round of drinks and Crush’s smile was far better looking and almost irresistible. Civilian realised halfway through a story Crush was telling her of work that she could just reach over the table and crush her lips to his and all would be well.
His lips stopped moving, then turned up into a grin. “Civilian?”
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering when you got into current affairs?” Crush asked, his husky laugh making an appearance. Civilian blushed at being caught staring.
“Oh,” said Civilian, trying to think back to when she got interested in current events. “I mean… with all the Hero/ villain stories going around, and our paper not really being Pro or Anti Heroes I just wanted to start reporting the facts. As it happened, so people can witness the unbiased information, the before and after, and make up her own minds about it.”
“And?” Crush asked and Civilian let out a small laugh, lifting her hands in a shrug.
“And… Alice liked the idea and told me to handle the Hero–Villain side of things. It got a lot of positive feedback from our readers too.”
Crush leaned in, resting his elbows on the table. “But why were you interested in it to begin with?”
“I was reading about Hero and how good it is that we have them to help us and stop the Villains running around our city. Praising them to the brim, it was bordering on sycophantic…” Civilian trailed off, taking a sip of her Guinness. Crush smiled and reached over the table, wiping some of the foam off of Civilian’s upper lip with her thumb.
It was as if the world had frozen in that moment between them. Civilian’s heart stopped beating for a fleeting second that stretched into eternity. Crush retracted his hand and licked the foam from his thumb with a secretive smile.
Civilian’s face burned redder than cherries, her cheeks heating up. From all the drinking, Civilian told herself, not anything else. Not how hot Crush was, not at all… they barely noticed.
“And you didn’t like that?” Crush asked with his perfect knowing smile. He knew exactly what caused the blush covering Civilian’s face scarlet and continued on the conversation while they were distracted. As if he didn’t do anything at all.  
Oh no Civilian loved that, she wanted to get more foam on her lip just so he could wipe it off again.
What were they talking about again? Oh god, she was making it so obvious. Think Civilian! Oh yes, Heroes and Villains, oh god, she was making it so obvious. Play it cool, Civilian.  
SPEAK CIVILIAN! A voice screamed at her from the back of her mind, and she blushed again.
“No,” said Civilian, turning the clammy glass around in her hands. She continued thoughtfully, “I don’t like when things get shoved down my throat before I know what shit they’re shovelling. Turns out the Hero agency had donated a very generous sum to the publication and that’s why there was a sudden exposé on how good Heroes were.”
Crush sat back when Civilian stopped talking, a small hidden thing twinkling behind his smile. “What?” Civilian asked, cocking her brow.
“Nothing,” Crush said with his handsome smile.
“No what? What’s that smile for?”
“I just didn’t realise you were so passionate about Heroes and villains from reading your pieces. It’s… you’re very surprising, Civilian.”
Civilian bowed her head and Crush laughed, getting to his feet. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Civilian nodded, following Crush out of the booth then out the door to the pub. It had stopped raining. A sheen of water covering the streets the only remnant that it had ever rained. So, when water splashed on the pair of them from a passing car, they could do nothing but laugh.
That laugh got cut off as into a scream as something suddenly slammed into Crush. Civilian whirled a scream of horror in her throat. “Crush!”
Civilian was running after him, deeper into a side street, shoes splashing the puddles up her feet. At the bottom of the alley Civilian saw Crush engaged in a struggle with someone. Civilian pulled pepper spray from her bag and ran up on the pair.
Crush’s eyes found Civilian and widened as he yelled: “Civilian! No— ngh, run! Go!”
“Civilian, hmm?” Civilian turned on her heel, pepper spray aimed and ready at the newcomer, but her wrist was caught in the attacker’s hand, and he twisted it roughly. Civilian cried out, as her attacker twisted her wrist further and plucked the pepper spray from her hand with ease. Her only defence. “How lovely to make your acquaintance.”
Civilian’s eyes went hard, and she balled her hand into a fist. She found her centre in her feet, bending her knees slightly. Then twisted her whole body with the slap that she threw straight for the attacker’s cheek.
The attacker simply caught that wrist too, smiling down at her with a grin that exposed too many teeth. Civilian yanked her wrists down, trying to break free of his grip, but her attacker yanked her forward suddenly and Civilian stumbled, her balance thrown off. Her attacker spun her, so her back was to the attacker’s front, her arm twisted behind her back and pinned there. Then there was a gentle hand on her throat, holding her head up, and when Civilian tried to struggle the attacker lifted her captured arm higher and Civilian cried out.
“Crush. You might want to stop,” said the man holding Civilian. The scuffle came to a pause, Crush’s head lifting to see Civilian and whoever was holding her. His eyes narrowing at the person behind Civilian, but he stopped fighting, nonetheless. Then he got a punch to the face for good measure from his attacker.
“I think…” the man behind Civilian said, “we’re all going to go for a drive, hmm?”
“No,” said Civilian. They were in a public place. Her best weapon was her lungs. So, Civilian opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs for “Help! Help! Somebody help us! Police! Ple-”
The coolness of a blade biting into her neck cut her off. “Keep screaming, they’re so pretty… but I would hate for my knife to slip…”
“Okay. Right Hand,” Crush said, glancing between Civilian and Right hand behind Civilian. “I’ll go with you, just… just let Civilian go.”
A rumbling chuckle from behind Civilian sent a shiver ran down her spine. “Oh no, no, no, Crush. Civilian’s coming along to make sure you behave.”
Civilian’s blood went cold as she looked at Crush’s resolve shattering right in front of her eyes. She wanted to fight. She wanted Crush to fight. To try. To struggle to punch to do something…
“Henchmen take Crush, don’t worry. He won’t put up a fight,” Civilian was pushed forward, and she resisted. Her hand was twisted further up her back, and she winced as she was forced a stepped forward.
“Keep walking or I’ll break your arm, Civilian,” Right Hand said into Civilian’s ear. Civilian obeyed because what else could she do?
At the end of the alley there was a black car parked where they had come in. Which meant these guys had been following them… for how long? Right hand kept pushing Civilian forward and when they got to the car, he pushed Civilian into the backseat then slammed the door shut. They did the same to Crush on the other side and Civilian’s panicked eyes went to Crush who just whispered: “everything will be all right.”
“Why do I get the feeling you know these people?” Civilian whispered back. Her hand went to the door trying to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Locked. Child locked, no doubt. Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is going on? Crush opened her mouth to reply when the two front doors opened and their attackers, Henchman and Right hand, got into the front of the car.
Henchman was in the driver’s seat and took off, while Right Hand turned in his seat and smiled at Civilian. She couldn’t really tell his features from here. It was too dark. Did he have blue eyes? Or brown? And his hair… she’d need to remember something concrete to tell the police when she get free.
If they get free.
“Sorry to interrupt your date, Civilian.”
“Go fuck yourself, Right Hand,” Civilian said in reply. Right hand just laughed and stared forward again.
“You got a keeper there, Crush. You tell her who you are? Or does the little reporter want to figure it out all by themselves?”
Civilian looked out her window, but it was all blacked out. She couldn’t even see her own reflection. Of course. Of fucking course.
Crush spoke next. “Right Hand, let Civilian go, okay? I’ll come willingly.”
“You’re coming willingly now, Crush.”
“For now,” Crush threatened, his voice taking on a completely different tone than Civilian was ever used to. Ever knew Crush was capable of.
“Put your claws back in,” said Right Hand dismissive. “We’re almost there now anyways. Besides… you wouldn’t risk putting poor Civilian in danger by trying to stop the car and be a hero now, would you?”
Civilian glanced at Crush from the corner of her eye, her heart hammering in her chest but he wouldn’t look at her. Civilian put her hand out, resting it on the middle seat. Crush put his hand in theirs, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing gently.
When the car stopped Henchman and Right Hand got out of the car. Civilian’s door opened first, and she was grabbed by the arm and pulled out. She looked into the face of Right Hand, who was still smiling down at her. She mustered up her best glare in return. Right Hand just pushed her in front of him again and told her to walk.
Civilian did just that, trying to take in everything around her. Figure out where they were but all she saw was a garage made of cinder bricks and concrete floors. Then a door opened to them, and Right Hand pushed her through. It just led to a larger room. A man stood at the opposite wall, his back to them as they entered. Right Hand’s grip tightened on Civilian’s arm when he felt Civilian almost stop.
“The prodigal son returns,” said Right Hand to the man ahead of them. Civilian looked over their shoulder, trying to find Crush, but a hand squeezed her cheeks and dragged their gaze to face forward again.
Crush spoke and Civilian’s head flooded with relief. He was still here. Civilian wasn’t alone. They were fine. He was fine.
“I’m not saying shit until you let Civilian go,” said Crush to the room. Then a grunt of pain and Civilian shot forward to help and was yanked back by her hair with a yelp.
The man finally turned to face the group and Civilian’s breath caught in her throat. That was Supervillain. That man was the Supervillain. Civilian and Crush were taken here to see Supervillain?! But then that means the person holding Civilian was… Right hand… Supervillain’s right hand. Civilian felt all the blood drain from her face as a small laugh sounded above her. Civilian took an involuntary step back, but just hit Right Hand’s chest.
“Oh, not so brave now, are we?” Right hand asked and Civilian couldn’t find it in herself to reply.
Supervillain approached them. Fine shoes clacking off concrete, echoing. Civilian didn’t dare breathe as Supervillain came closer and closer to her. Supervillain was taller than Civilian. Taller. Broader. Crueller. Instead of going to Crush he walked right up to Civilian and Right hand pushed her forward, letting go of her hair and arm.
Civilian felt very cold and exposed like this. She nearly missed Right Hand’s brutal hold on her. Supervillain looked down at her without a hint of an expression on his face. He looked almost alien. Cold.
Supervillain took Civilian’s hand in his and pulled it up as if to inspect it. Civilian let him. She hated herself for it, but Supervillain killed people, this wasn’t a time to be brave.
“You’ve been gone too long, Crush,” said Supervillain simply. His voice sent shivers down Civilian’s spine. Then Civilian was screaming, white hot pain burst behind her eyes as a resounding crack tore through her hand. Her legs went to jelly, and she wanted to be sick, but she just put her other hand out for support against the only other solid thing there: which happened to be Supervillain.
“LET HER GO! She has nothing to do with this!” Crush yelled. Distantly Civilian was aware of the scuffle behind her. That Crush was probably trying to get to her, but it didn’t matter because that wouldn’t stop the pain in her wrist from burning.
“Are you going to keep making demands, Crush? Because there are 206 bones in Civilian’s body, and I can break as many as you need to remind you of who has the power here.”
Civilian was shivering at the threat. Or the pain. She didn’t know.
“Please…” Crush again. “Please let them go.”
“No,” said Supervillain, and Civilian wanted to throw up. She wasn’t sober enough to deal with this shit. A hand on her chin tilted her head up to look Villain in the eye. “Just a hairline fracture, my dear. Nothing to worry about. Right hand?”
Civilian felt Right hand’s hand on her shoulder again and she nearly sagged against him. “If Crush decides to make any more demands break something else of her.”
“I won’t,” Crush said quickly, the words rushed out panicky and desperate. Then cleared his throat and said again: “I won’t, sir.”
“Good,” said Supervillain, eyes going between the two of his captives. “Let’s begin again then, shall we?"
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years
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Tuvok is a friend. Yeah, I know he’s been a good friend of mine...
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