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macfrog · 1 year

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company cowboy like me chapter six

lfg i am so happy to finally be back writing!!! here's a new part of cowboy like me to celebrate - you can also catch parts one thru five over on my masterlist 🤍 love u all lmk ur thoughts whose side are we on with the argument? 😏

pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader

summary: joel and his hands help you feel better after an argument with your dad

warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! shower fun, handjob, fingering, bit of comeplay, like, allusions to exhibitionism?? not rly tho, dom!joel, unprotected p in v sex (i do not condone it unless it is fictional), praise kink, overstimulation, begging, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), cursing, grilled cheese consumption (for all my lactose intolerant babies i got u)

word count: 8.4k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

“Please let me cum, promise I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.” He laughs, some smug, cocky laugh. If you had a sliver of energy and half the feeling in your body, you’d bat his arm. “Don’t want you to be quiet, angel. You wanted to get caught, remember? Get us caught, then. Let ‘em all hear just what you’re up to.” “No,” you moan, head shaking, “don’t wanna get caught. Just w-wanna cum. Please, Joel…”

The birds singing. A car passing by on the street outside. The dull buzz of the shower running, and the gentle humming of the man standing in it. Whichever one wakes you first, you don’t much care. Your eyes have fluttered open to find the bathroom door half-open, the steamed-up shower right ahead of you.

You can see his silhouette moving around. Hands raising to rub shampoo into his hair. Dipping to push soap suds down the trail from his belly button. You’re half-naked in his bed, still sore from your antics from the night before, and he’s winding that coil all over again. Just from showering.

You push yourself off the bed with a groan. Your thighs burn as you move them; between your legs feels just as tender. His t-shirt hangs off you.

You slowly wander over to the bathroom door and pause to listen. It’s one of his country songs he’s always playing in the truck. And this man swears he ain’t a country fan.

Your head leans against the doorframe. One gentle push and he’ll know you’re right here.

The t-shirt comes off in one swift movement, and in you go.

“Mornin’, baby,” he coos as you walk over the threshold. When he peers around the steamed-up glass, he notices your lack of clothing, and mumbles an Oh as you step inside.

“What time does Sarah’s flight get in?” you ask innocently. His eyes are making their way slowly down your figure.

“An–” He clears his throat. “An hour.”

“You got time, then?”

He smirks as you soak yourself under the hot stream of water, and says, “Always got time for you.”

Your hands cup his strong jaw and pull him down to you. He obliges, lips parting to crash against yours. Tongues twisting and curling around one another, hands squeezing and scratching and stroking bodies. His palms find your tits and he squeezes, pulling a moan from your lips.

“So fuckin’ needy,” he murmurs against your lips.

You smile back into the kiss, replying, “It’s all your fault.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” your hand starts travelling south, “got – me – fuck – all ruined.”

Joel’s already hard when your hands take hold of him. Like, fucking hard. So hard you actually look down as you grip him with both hands, awestruck by how quickly he’s turned on. When you look back up, a cocky smile fills his cheeks.

“Get goin’ then. I ain’t got all mornin’.”

“Fuck you.” You drag your hand up his length.

“That’s what I got you for,” he breathes, leaning his head back against the tile, eyes closing.

This is the part you like. Sure, Joel’s hot when he’s being dominant, fucking you senseless, whispering filth in your ear, even just the way his hands grip your body. But this – when he’s under your hand, right where you want him, right where he wants to be. This is it for you.

Watching him unravel at your touch, the way you squeeze him, pull him, take care of him; your words, sweet and smooth as honey in his ear, asking how good it feels, telling him how good he looks, peppering wet kisses down his neck and across his chest; and then, when he’s close, the way he pants and takes hold of your wrist, telling you without speaking exactly how to fuckin’ get him there.

When you feel his hips buck, you sink to your knees and hold the head of his cock on your tongue. He tilts his head to look down at you, mouth agape, hand on the back of your head. You stroke his length a few more times, the tip swirling over your pink lips, before he grunts, releasing all over your tongue, watching as you take every last drop.

“Good girl…” he whispers, over and over until he goes limp. You never take your eyes off of him as you lick your lips and swallow. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

When he comes down from his high, Joel takes your hands and pulls you back up to stand. He lazily bumps his nose against yours and then pulls you in, filling your mouth with his tongue. He groans into the kiss, tangling his hand in your hair, tasting himself on you.

“You know how good you are to me?”

Your face lights up when you look up at him. You could almost say something you think you’d regret afterward. When the wave of bravery washes down the drain with the water from above, you settle for your usual cocky teasing: “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”

He laughs and turns you gently so your back is to him. He shifts your wet hair out of the way, and then begins to massage your shoulders. His hands drop down your arms, squeezing and rubbing, then back up, feeling their way over your breasts and down your stomach.

“Gonna make you feel nice ‘n better, after last night.”

Your lips fall open, silently begging him not to stop, to keep going further down, to fuck you with his fingers against the cool tile.

You forget he’s a mind reader. He’s already doing it before your thought is done.

Fingers run over your clit, already sensitive and swollen, and you gasp.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he whispers in your ear.

Your head falls back to his shoulder with a moan, and he kisses your neck, sucking softly on the sensitive spots that were between his teeth last night. His fingers rub you gently.

“So pretty for me, baby.”

You can feel your legs starting to give, but his free arm wraps around your waist, holding you up so that, even if you wanted to, you couldn’t collapse.

His fingers dip lower still, parting your lips, running through your folds. He’s so good, you think you might be dreaming. Then he inserts a curled finger and you know for sure, this is no dream.

“Joel…”

You squirm under his touch, and it only pushes him further. A second finger, stretching you out more, pressing up against the soft, spongey insides of your pussy. You grip onto his arm snaked around your waist with one hand, place the other against the tile to steady yourself.

“Doin’ so good, baby, that’s it. Just like that.” His voice is as smooth as whiskey in your ear, the drawl of his accent sending you as far as the fingers hooked inside your cunt.

Your breathing starts to stammer, your stomach tightening with your orgasm fast approaching. Joel inserts a third finger, making you cry out, and your head knocks into his shoulder again. Pleasure sparks between your legs, the weight of you riding on Joel’s hand, fire igniting through every nerve in your body.

“‘attagirl, all over me,” Joel coaches you through it, his other hand forced to let go of your waist to steady you both against the wall as your release doubles you over.

You come back to earth; stars in your vision, feeling the weight of him on your back, protecting you from the spray of water from the shower, chin still dipped over your shoulder.

“We’re good at this,” he whispers, and you give a blissful smile. “One day they’ll make a movie about us.”

You come back to reality with a hearty laugh, turning back around slowly. Joel’s arms snake around your waist and he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

“Maybe one day we could do that ourselves,” you tease.

He gives a smile which means more than it looks. You’re a mind reader, too. He likes that idea. He’s…considering it.

“I gotta go,” Joel says after some time.

You nod.

He follows you out of the shower and hands you the towel he’d sat on the counter for himself, dripping off to the linen closet in the hallway for another while you pat yourself dry. You scoop up his shirt and throw it over yourself, laying back down on his bed to wait for him finishing up getting ready.

Another thing you love doing: watching him. Whether he’s driving, grabbing a beer from the fridge, or just getting dressed like right now, you like to watch him. Study him. Know him better than he knows himself.

He doesn’t typically let you watch him do much – his hands are usually all over you with the precious little time you two get together – and when he clocks you staring over at him as he buckles his belt, he snorts.

“Besotted, ain’tcha?”

He stands at the foot of the bed. You say nothing back. Then he begins crawling up, knees apart to climb over your legs, and crouches over you as you giggle.

His head drops down to give you one last meaningful kiss before you know he has to leave. When you part, his forehead leans against yours.

“Hook, line, and sinker,” he softly says.

You don’t have a reply. At least, not one you want him to hear. Yet.

“Go pick up Sarah. I’ll be gone when you come back.”

He stands, and you take his offered hand to pull yourself up from the bed.

“Don’t have to be. I’ll tell her you wanted to surprise her.”

You shake your head. “I got work later anyways. And y’all deserve some time alone to catch up. I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Okay, darlin’,” he says in a mocking baby tone, pouting his lips. Pulls you in for a quick squeeze. Then turns and wanders off down the hall to the top of the stairs.

“How will you cope without being the center of my attention?” he calls back.

You smile to yourself and watch as his figure disappears. You stand on his carpet, still, silent, until the front door shuts and his truck engine hums in the drive.

Your eyes travel around his room. His unmade bed, one big dip in the middle of the mattress where your bodies had been pressed together, limbs intertwined, sharing breath. The small pile of your clothes Joel had laid out as you dozed, neatly tucked on a dresser, your phone laying on top. A framed photo of him and Sarah on his windowsill that makes your chest tighten when your eyes find it.

You turn away and start getting ready, picking up your clothes one by one. Your panties are missing – not that they’d be much use anyways, the last state you saw them in. It’d be hot to go commando if you thought Joel might find out; less hot when you’re just about to head off on a walk of shame back to your dad’s.

You wander around to Joel’s nightstand and roll the drawer open. Pick up a pair of white boxers and pull them on. As you leave, you throw his tee over your elbow.

He won’t notice it’s gone, right?

----------

You’re perched on your window seat, watching the quiet street below. It’s been two days since you last saw Joel, strolling down his hallway to go pick up Sarah. You’d been working the past couple days anyway, but your mind had been elsewhere.

You and Joel weren’t able to see each other for obvious reasons, but he was always at the end of the phone whenever you were bored and wanted attention. Truthfully, you’d spent every waking minute hanging over your cell, waiting for it to light up with a message or call from him.

You unlock it and scroll through the last few texts you’d exchanged.

Joel: Decorations were a hit. Should be all over Instagram or whatever

You: You’re welcome ;)

Joel: Don’t I get any credit?

You: You can take the credit for blowing my back out afterward. Let me have the decs

Joel: Fair.

You smile, reading back over the messages. You’d been trying not to bother him so much now that Sarah was back, but you’re struggling to find anything to distract your thoughts from him. What he’s up to, where he is, who he’s with…and not even in a jealous way. Just…because you miss him.

That’s the weird part. Missing him.

Sure, for the last two weeks, anytime your hands have been on your body, it’s Joel’s name passing your lips in breathy moans. But missing the sound of his voice? The smell of him?

That’s new. That’s weird.

There’s a knock at your bedroom door.

“Yeah?”

Your dad nudges in, toolbox in hand. “Hey, hon. Just thought I’d have a look at that latch on your window that keeps catchin’.”

“Oh,” you say, shifting from your seat. “Sure. Thanks.”

He sets the toolbox at the end of your bed, and you shift some cushions and blankets to sit beside it. As he’s digging through his tools, he glances up and notices the men’s large t-shirt laying strewn across your pillows.

“New shirt?” he asks.

You look over your shoulder. Fuck.

“Texas Rangers.” Your dad raises his eyebrows, nodding. “Impressed.��

“Yeah, I– I, uh…” You’re scrambling for some excuse, words tripping over one another in the scram to explain. “Got it at a thrift store the other day. It’s nice to sleep in, I guess.”

He hums and then turns, completely oblivious. “Might head over to Joel’s once I’ve done this, since I got the tools out. He has some pipe in his bathroom he reckons is leakin’. You wanna come? See Sarah for a bit?”

“Maybe…” you hum, not really listening. You’re typing a message out to Joel.

You: My dad just totally spotted your shirt on my bed…

Joel: So you’ve got my shirt? I was looking all over for it.

You: Is it really that much of a surprise? Had to say I’d thrifted it

Joel: Offended by the fact you wanted him to believe anyone would throw out a Rangers shirt

You: Well, he believed it, so what does that tell you, cowboy?

Joel: Given what we know your dad’s oblivious to right now, not a lot, kid

You: Speaking of, when can I see you?

Joel: Tough right now with Sarah being home. Sorry baby. Soon as we can, I promise.

You throw yourself back onto your bed with a sigh.

“Boy trouble?” your dad asks.

“Huh?” You sit up straight. What…the fuck?

He chuckles, messing around with the window, his back turned to you. “Awfully big sigh. I know that sigh. Who is he?”

If Joel were in the room right now, he’d be masking his laughter behind a closed fist at the mere sight of your face. You stare at your dad’s back for a decent amount of time, long enough for him to turn back and look at you.

“You hearin’ me?” he asks. “It someone I know? It ain’t your friend Sam from Frank’s, is it? That boy don’t know his hand from his foot at the best ’a times. You can do better than him.”

“It ain’t a boy. And I appreciate the advice, but I’m good, Dad.”

“Speakin’ of advice…” He walks slowly over to the bed, switching out some tools. “I got this supplier whose daughter works in human resources at…uh…some company, downtown. Name escapes me. He was tellin’ me it’s good money, lotta hours…Said she’d be happy to meet with you if you wanted to go in for an interview.”

“I…I’m okay, I think. Thanks, though.”

“Sure? I thought maybe you’d wanna be lookin’ for something a little more…permanent.”

“I will,” you reply, glancing down at your phone. No new messages. “I just…I’m happy at Sal’s right now.”

“Right, right. And Sal’s been real good to you, kiddo.”

“I kinda wanna see what I can get with my degree anyway.”

Your thumbs dance over the keyboard, still hunting for attention from Joel, and searching for the right words to get it. You’re barely even present in the room with your dad when you hear him ask, “Film? You really think there’s gonna be much out there?”

Your head whips up. He’s sauntering back over to the window. Your phone lands with a thud on your bed beside your thigh.

“Uh…I don’t know. ‘s why I wanna look.”

“Hm.”

“Hm?”

He shakes his head, screwing something into your window frame. “Naw, I just…don’t know what you’re gonna find, is all.” He chuckles a little. Kinda chuckle that makes your fists ball.

You watch him through thin eyes, pulling your bottom lip under your teeth. “Well, I got Sal’s to keep me goin’ until I do find somethin’.”

Your dad doesn’t reply. You stare him down until he turns around, notices you, and raises his brows, forehead crinkling.

When he dives back into the toolbox instead of responding, you start to feel heat in your belly.

You speak through your teeth. “Is that…Is it okay?”

“Sure, hon. I ain’t tellin’ you what to do.”

“Well, you ain’t tellin’ me much else, though, so…”

“I’m only thinking,” he lifts his palms, your eyes trace them, “your degree is very specific. And there maybe isn’t a lot of specific work down this way for somethin’ like film. That’s all. I thought HR might be a good move.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. He’s closing over the metal lid.

“Then why’d I go through four years of studying it?”

“Because it interested you. And because you were good at it–”

“So, shouldn’t I be doin’ something with it?”

“–but ultimately, hon, a degree’s just a degree, you understand?”

Your face screws up, lip curled. “Huh?”

“Lotta folks don’t got a degree. Lotta folks get one, and it goes to waste. They spend all that money, all that time…and work part-time in some dead-end job for the rest of their lives. Chasin’ a career that’s never comin’.”

You choke back a laugh, a stunned, confused, livid laugh. Your lips tremble and twist in and out of different shapes, trying to form words that your voice won’t speak.

“You worked damn hard to get that degree. Now, use it. Use it right.”

He slaps the toolbox closed and starts trotting out of your room, and you find your voice.

“Oh, screw you!”

Your dad’s hand hooks around the doorframe and he turns back. “Pardon me?”

“What fuckin’ right do you have to tell me I’m gonna end up in a dead-end job? Ain’t a job a job?”

“Woah, kiddo,” he holds a hand out, “no, no, that’s not what I’m sayin’. Not at all.”

“You’re saying I should give up tryna get a job I actually want, and get a real job, right? That– That film ain’t much of a thing? I worked my ass off for nothin’?”

“No, you worked your ass off for everything, and you deserve to find somethin’ that rewards all your hard work.”

“Oh, what the fuck does that even mean?” You throw your arms up, striding across the room.

He shakes his head with a sigh. “It means – I just want what’s best for you. I was just thinkin’ out loud, honey. That’s all.”

In one sweep, he’s gone. The toolbox rattles down the hall and recedes into background noise. You’re stood in a cloud of rage at your door, breath coming hard and fast out of your nose, staring at the empty hallway before you.

You stalk over to your bed and your thumbs finally figure out what to send to Joel.

You: Are you free to talk real quick??

He’s calling you within thirty seconds.

“What’s up?” his voice speaks before you even open your mouth, and instantly you feel yourself calming.

“Are you eating?”

“Mhm. Grilled cheese.”

You can hear the chewing sounds through the receiver.

“You mind swallowing before you talk?”

“Sorry, darlin’,” he chuckles a little, then clears his throat. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Just…” You sigh. “Fuck…I don’t even know.”

Your head falls into one hand as you pace back and forth.

“I had this argument with my dad; he’s goin’ on about careers and jobs and using my degree – but to do somethin’ I don’t wanna do. Then, he’s makin’ out like I’ll never find a job in film, or in anything I want. And he said that– He basically said that I’ll be in a dead-end job forever, ‘less I go work in human resources.”

Joel’s quiet for a few seconds until he realizes you’re done. “’sec, baby, I got a mouthful of grilled cheese over here.”

You roll your eyes and, after a gulp, his voice floats back through your phone.

“He wants you to– Human resources, I hear that right?”

“Yup. He says it’s a good place to be, apparently.”

“Your dad, the contractor?”

You throw your arm up in the air again. “Thank you!”

Joel and his laughter cut you short before you start another rant.

“Alright, alright, first of all…you already got a job, and it’s a good, steady job; you like it, you’re happy enough there, right?”

“Mhm,” you agree.

“Mhm. So that’s not an issue. Second, you’re twenty-three. That’s still young, darlin’. You got your whole life to try and find somethin’ you really like. Hell, I didn’t figure it out until I had Sarah. You got time. Don’t worry about it.

“And third: who gives a fuck what your dad thinks? If you’re happy, what’s it matter what him or anyone else says?”

You nod, sitting down on your bed. Your eyes are starting to well.

“Hm?” Joel beckons.

“Yeah,” you squeak.

“Don’t you worry that pretty little mind, baby. It was just an argument. He wants what’s best for you, ‘n if I know him half as well as I do, he just got his words a little jumbled up.”

“I’m still fuckin’ mad at him, though,” you mumble.

Joel laughs. “Yeah. ‘n I reckon you’re allowed to be, for a little bit.”

“Thanks. Sorry for interruptin’ you ‘n your grilled cheese.”

“’s alright. I gotta make you one of these next time you’re over here, I’m a master at ‘em. Sarah’s favorite.”

You lay back on your bed, giggling. “I’m gonna hold you to that, y’know.”

“Oh, I know, kid. Hey, I was actually thinking of dropping by tomorrow mornin’, got some papers your dad wants to take a look at. Figured I’d catch ‘im before he goes off to work.”

You feel your heart swell just at the thought of him being in front of you, actually in person, standing right there. Cotton-covered chest to be touched, worked hands to be held, rough but gentle lips to be kissed.

Hard cock to be – never mind.

“Yeah?” you say, coolly, trying not to let him in on the butterflies swirling around your stomach.

“Yep. Better be awake. I’ll want my t-shirt back.”

“Setting my alarm as we speak.”

----------

You’re in the kitchen making breakfast when you hear the front door open, and an all too familiar Texas drawl.

“Anybody home?”

You lean back from the counter and stare down the hallway toward the door, which he closes and turns to face you.

“Hello, darlin’.”

“Hi,” you mutter, smiling.

“Dad in?”

You nod. “Upstairs. Getting ready.”

His fingers tug on your t-shirt sleeve. His t-shirt sleeve.

“Nice shirt.”

You give a bashful smile, but he’s grinning. The fucker loves seeing you in his clothes as much as you love wearing them. He doesn’t care.

Joel sets his papers on the countertop and runs a hand through your hair, sweeping it out of your face. You lean into his touch by instinct, then catch yourself, and move away, but Joel stays where he is.

“You okay?” he murmurs.

“Mhm. Want some cereal?”

He smiles, shaking his head, then lowers his chin and softly presses his lips to yours.

Your hands drop the box like it’s scorching hot, and link around his neck. He pushes against you, pinning you to the counter.

If it weren’t for the thudding of your dad’s footsteps down the stairs right then, you’d probably ask Joel to fuck you right here and now in your kitchen. You’re that needy.

“Hey, partner,” your dad calls when he notices Joel, now standing a good four feet away from you, papers back in his fist.

You pour some milk in the bowl and lean back against the island, cereal in hand.

“Brought that paperwork.” Joel lifts his fist, and your dad nods gratefully.

“Hey,” your dad says, turning to you and knocking your shoulder with his index finger. “Here’s the number of that guy’s daughter I was talkin’ about…”

You take a deep breath, studying the card in his hand, the name Vanessa Hart printed below some logo. Joel notices your expression when your dad holds it out between two fingers. He knows y’all fought – though he’s not meant to – but he doesn’t know you two haven’t spoken since. You ate dinner in your room alone last night.

The look in your eye catches him up just fine.

“What’s this?” Joel asks, returning the papers to the counter behind you and taking the business card from your dad’s hand. He tosses it over before passing to you. You wordlessly take it, sliding your bowl alongside his paperwork.

“She’s been thinkin’ about work. Lookin’ around for somethin’ a little more…challenging, than retail anyway. Right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Right.”

Joel looks at you intently. Knowingly. “Thought you wanted to be a journalist, or something? Film…? No?”

You glance up at him. “I, um…”

“This is maybe somethin’ a little more realistic, y’know.” Your dad shifts from foot to foot, almost awkwardly.

“She got a degree in film,” Joel mutters, almost leaning into you to make you answer. Your eyes travel along to his shoulder. “You like film, right?”

“I like film. Yeah. It was good.”

“So, you don’t wanna do somethin’ with that?”

Your shoulders tense as you look up at him, trying to answer him honestly and at the same time, stop another heated discussion from happening between you and your dad, who then initiates that discussion himself by piping up.

“What’s Sarah doin’, again, Joel?”

You wince, knowing what’s about to happen.

“Sports Science.” Joel’s voice feels dangerous. He’s still staring at you. Vanessa’s card is beginning to tremble in your hands as you flip it over and over.

“See? Now, that, I would understand. That’s a great degree. Not that yours isn’t,” your dad shoots you a look as he’s packing his lunch into his bag, “just that, with Sports Science, I mean…she could do lotsa stuff.”

“I could do lots with film, too, Dad.” You try to mask the anger through your teeth.

“Like what?”

Joel sighs under his breath. Your eyes dart across his. You take a deep breath, steady yourself.

“Like…journalism, or production, or promotion. Lots of behind-the-scenes stuff.”

“I’m just tryna look out for you, kiddo, just tryna be realistic. Like I said last night, there aren’t so many opportunities in that sorta stuff down here. Fine, up in New York, but in Austin? Nah.”

“Maybe you just gotta move back to New York. I’ll come with ya,” Joel says, shrugging, with an expression that elicits a laugh from you. He looks relieved to see you smile.

Your dad clears his throat and takes a step closer to you. Your smile fades as quickly as it appeared.

“I just want what’s best for you. The arts…ain’t really a steady job. Somethin’ like Sports Science, see, now, that’s safe. That’s a good choice.”

“A good choice,” you echo, your face flushing. “So, mine wasn’t a good choice?”

“No, it’s just that–”

“Why are we havin’ this same conversation again, Dad?” You throw the card behind you on the counter. “I said I’d do my own thing, in my own time, and you come up with even more to shove in my damn face. You can’t just leave it? Not even for one day?”

“Aw, c’mon, hon, film? Tell me what you found, lookin’ for jobs in film. Go on.”

Joel’s head cocks and he holds a hand out. “Alright, that’s enough.”

“No, tell me. I’m seriously askin’. What did you find? ‘cause I’ve been lookin’, kiddo–”

You scoff. “Oh, you’ve been looking.”

“Yes, I have, which seems to be a damn sight more ‘n you’ve done, and there ain’t nothin’. Now, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I thought I was doin’ a good thing. Thought you’d appreciate me helpin’ out.”

“Sure. I appreciate you steppin’ foot where you ain’t wanted. And then insulting me while you’re at it.”

Your dad sighs and lifts his arms, bringing them down onto his thighs with a clap. Then he picks his bag up, slings it over his shoulder, and turns back to you.

“I just wanted to help. I’m gone, alright? Joel, thanks for those, I’ll take a look when I’m home.”

Without another word, he strides down the hall and heads out the front door.

Joel’s hand immediately wraps around your arm.

“Hey,” he says when you turn away, tears forming. “Woah, hey. It’s alright.”

He pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head, and you bury your face into his shirt, groaning with rage. He rubs the back of your head and hushes you as you weep into his chest.

He pulls away, cupping your chin and pushing the hair out of your face. You’re still bubbling away, Joel’s thumbs wiping away tears hot with anger from your cheeks.

“I’m not crying ‘cause I’m upset,” you sniff, and he nods, softly caressing your face. “I’m crying ‘cause I’m fuckin’ angry.”

“I know, baby,” he fusses. “He’s bein’ an ass, no doubt about that.”

“I told you.” You ball your fists and lightly bump them against his strong chest. “Fuckin’ dick.”

“Fuckin’ dick,” Joel agrees, and you laugh. “Tell me what to do to make you feel better.”

You lean back, Joel’s hand locked around yours to stop you from falling. A dark thought crosses your mind, and you do your best not to let it show through your eyes. Joel seems oblivious when he reels you in and your hands come to rest on his pecs.

“I dunno,” you mumble, eyes stuck on the fabric of his shirt.

“Must be somethin’. What do you want me to do?”

“Just…stick around for a bit? Keep me company.”

“Company, huh? What’s that entail?”

“We could…watch a movie?” Your fingers flirt with the collar of his open shirt. “…could…talk…?”

Joel studies you as you slowly peel the button-up from his shoulders, letting it rest on his biceps.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, realizing where you’re at, “I got stuff I should be doin’ today.”

“I know. Just…make me feel better first.”

He sighs, looking at you from beneath his brows. His shirt is hanging from his elbows, his palms planted firmly against your waist. His hands are squeezing you just enough to encourage you to keep going.

“Won’t be long. Promise. You can have your shirt back, after it.”

You angle your jaw and smile sweetly at him, and he lowers his to meet you halfway. Your breath hot against his lips, you whisper, “’s not like either of us are gonna last longer than five minutes, anyway,” and he closes the space between you.

When your lips connect, Joel pushes off the counter and begins backing you toward the couch.

“I love,” you breathe into the kiss, “when you do that.”

“Do what?” he mutters back, lifting the hem of your top.

You fall back onto the couch and Joel follows.

“Give in to me.”

He pulls back, eyes skimming across your half-naked body, t-shirt ruffled up to the bottom of your bare breasts.

“That’s all I do, baby.”

You open your legs beneath him and his hips slot between yours, hardening jeans rubbing against your sleep shorts. His tongue leaves wet marks down your neck and across your collarbone, hands creeping further up your naked torso.

When you buck your hips, Joel understands, and takes the waist of your shorts in tight fists, pulling them off your legs in one movement. His hand comes down to cup your sex and shift your underwear aside. He’s moving without thinking; it’s instinct by this point. He knows exactly what to do to get you where he wants you.

His fingers move around your folds, dancing in and out of your entrance, rubbing your clit. It’s not enough. It’s never fucking enough. You whine, and he listens again, slipping two fingers inside your wet cunt.

Your back arches, chest rising to meet his. A sigh of relief passes your lips, finally feeling his body on – and in – yours again.

“We– I don’t wanna– fucking hell, Joel– I can’t wait this long for you,” you whimper, as he dips his jaw to suck a bruise into your neck.

“Hm?”

“Too – fucking – long. I need you – all the fuckin’ time.”

He’s humming against your hot skin. Your fingers are knotting in his hair, dark brown flecked with streaks of gray tangled around your knuckles.

His fingers burrow deeper, stretching your wet pussy out just right. You clench around him.

“Need you,” you breathe again, “all the time.”

“You got me, pretty girl,” Joel coos, lips now dancing across yours. “I’m here now.”

Your foreheads lock like they always do, Joel’s eyes trained on yours like they always are. He fucking loves watching you, loves the way your eyes glaze over and you submit to whatever he wants to do to you. I started it, and I know how to finish it.

His thumb begins to rub your clit, pad drawing circles around and round. Your hips lift again in response, and you feel a smirk pull on Joel’s lips. You’re writhing under his touch, the entire room filling with filthy moans of his name and of yours, tangling together in the air and knotting as tight as the pressure building in your stomach.

You reach down and begin to unbuckle his belt, hands weaving around Joel’s wrist to gain access to his jeans. Your fingers graze the rough teeth of his zipper when you hear something outside.

The sound of a car door slamming.

Your lips freeze against Joel’s. His hand stops dead against your core.

“Was that–?”

The front door bursts open and the hallway fills with the early morning light.

Joel heaves himself off of you, scarpering to the other side of the room as you straighten up, slam your sensitive legs closed and kick your shorts under the couch. Your tee is long enough to cover your thighs, only if you stay seated.

Your dad rounds the corner to the room just as you both assume position.

“Joel still around? His truck’s– Oh, hey, bud. What the hell you still doin’ here?”

Joel clears his throat. “She, uh– She said somethin’ was up with the TV. Bad signal or somethin’, right?”

“Right.” You nod almost furiously.

Your dad blinks. Looks from you, to Joel, to the TV behind him. Which is switched off.

You toe the line between still mad at your dad, and wanting to appear totally innocent. “Joel was just having a look. He, uh…switched it off.”

“Waitin’ for it to reboot.” Joel sways back to hold a steady – slick-covered – hand to the TV set. You wince as he notices your gleaming wet coating his fingers, unreadable expression on his face, and calmly holds them behind his back.

“That so?” your dad says, pouting his lips. “I didn’t notice anything last night.”

Joel doesn’t reply, instead choosing to let the moment pass in awkward silence until your dad changes the subject. Joel knows him better than most, and it works in the end, but you wish he’d just fucking say something to take your mind off of the hand he’s currently hiding behind his back and your shorts disturbing the dust under the couch.

“Left my hardhat,” your dad says, almost flatly. “You seen it, kiddo?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“You wanna help me look?”

Right now? With no pants on? And your best friend stood less than six feet away? You know what, I’m good, Dad.

“Not really.”

He sighs and shakes his head to Joel, a Can you believe her?

Joel sputters out a forced chuckle, which he cuts short when he notices your sharp glare in his direction.

When your dad disappears upstairs, you fish your shorts out and throw them on.

“That,” Joel leans into you, motioning to where your dad was just standing, “was too damn close, you hear?”

“How was I supposed to know he’d come back?” you hiss.

“If we’re–” another flappy hand movement between the two of you, “y’know, we gotta be on alert for any–”

“We–” you mimic his gesture, “thought we had an empty house. If he walks in on somethin’, then that’s–”

“Don’t tell me that’s on him, kid.” Joel tilts his head, inviting you to finish your sentence with something more sensible. Before you can answer, your dad calls out.

“Got it!”

His boots thud back down the stairs.

You and Joel spring back to your positions, an unassuming two meters of carpet separating you both. Your dad stands at the opposite end of the coffee table, holding his hardhat up like it’s a trophy.

“Alright,” you clap your hands, “see ya, then.”

You brush past him toward the kitchen, feigning grabbing a drink. In your wake, you hear him mumble something to Joel about you not forgiving him just yet. Joel doesn’t laugh.

Eventually, he doddles off to the door, and Joel slowly follows. You hear the click of the door handle, and the hallway floods with light again, tile floor painted with Joel’s silhouette. When the sound of the engine trudges off into the distance, the door slams shut, and his figure materializes beside you once again.

You’re holding a bottle of water against your lips. Not drinking. Joel takes the bottle and sets it down on the counter.

He doesn’t speak. Barely even looks at you. Just takes your waist and hoists you up onto the kitchen counter. It’s cold under your bare thighs, but he lifts your knees and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, slipping them off for the second time in, what, ten minutes?

You sit still and watch him, stood between your legs, looking you up and down. His gaze falls to his still soaked fingers, and with a blank expression, like it’s as normal as passing you the sauce over dinner, he lifts his hand.

“Wanna clean up your mess for me?”

He presses the pads of his fingers to your bottom lip. Asks you without words to part them.

Your mouth falls open, not because you tell it to, but because his words pour a fog over your entire body that dumbs you senseless. That same intoxicating drawl, the way his head tilts with every perfectly innocent question laced with just the right amount of filth to have you do whatever the fuck he tells you.

He pushes his fingers into your mouth, resting them on your tongue.

“Now, pretty girl. Put that mouth to good use.”

“Joel–” you mumble into his knuckles, but he shushes you.

“Clean. Them.”

In a fluttering haze, you close your mouth around his thick fingers and suck, tongue slipping over them, under, between. Joel watches almost dangerously, like a wild animal watching its prey. He’s focused entirely on your wet lips, the way they’re bobbing up and down over his knuckles.

His fingers are sweet, coated in your thick arousal, and when you loosen your jaw, he pushes them in further. Almost chokes you with the way he forces them back. His eyes are dark, clouded over by the way your pretty little mouth looks. The way it feels, choking and spitting all over him.

When your eyes close over, his free hand comes up to cup the back of your head.

“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, and your eyes flutter back open; light seeps into your vision and chases everything but the man between your legs out of focus.

You can’t taste yourself on him anymore. He tastes like Joel again. But he doesn’t stop. His fingers hit the back of your throat, and he only withdraws them when you gag.

He slips out, soaked in your saliva, and his wet hand falls back to place on your thigh.

You’re breathing heavily, drool dripping from your lips, but you know for a fucking fact if you move to wipe it, he’ll stop you.

His grip on the back of your neck tightens suddenly.

“You wanna act like a little whore? You get treated like one.”

His hand moves to his waistband and he undoes his own belt, batting away your fingers when you try to help.

He lets you link your arms over his shoulders as he messily unzips his jeans, tugging them down only a little. His rough hand grabs your knee and hooks it over his elbow, opening your legs wide for him.

“J…”

“Shut up.”

Now’s not the time for talking. He’s got a glassy expression in his eye that you don’t recognize. He doesn’t want to fucking talk. He wants you to make him cum.

“Wanted me to fuck you on your dad’s couch, huh? Wanted to make a mess in his livin’ room?”

“Mhm,” you whine, and he lifts your ass up to bring a hand down on it. Shut up.

“’n what if he’d walked in a few minutes later than he did? Saw the pair of us? That what you want?”

You bite your lip and look at him under hooded lids; answer enough. Nah, you didn’t want your dad to see you guys. But, fuck, you liked the thought of being caught.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” he’s murmuring, lining up to your cunt, pre-cum soaking the reddened tip of his cock. You’re staring at it, mesmerized, mind totally blanked by it.

“Look at you,” he whispers roughly, “drunk on it, aren’t you darlin’? You want it inside you?”

You nod, but it doesn’t matter. The slightest movement of your head and he’s pushing inside you, stretching your tight hole around the thick head of his cock.

Joel groans and his head falls back, eyes on the ceiling. He makes it halfway in before he’s pulling back again.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Shut – the fuck – up,” he replies, hips pushing forward into yours again.

You bite back a whine as he pushes further and further, filling you up, pain and pleasure and fucking bliss rippling through you, driven by Joel.

He wastes no time letting you adjust, no long, slow strokes. No tender kisses or fingers guiding his dick in. He picks up a dangerous pace from the outset, hips snapping into yours, bouncing you against the kitchen counter.

This is what this is, isn’t it? This whole thing between you guys. You have needs; Joel has needs. You’re just both coincidentally very good at helping the other meet their needs. What’s wrong with that, right?

Your head starts to swim with the feeling of Joel’s cock spearing you, the image of your kitchen floating in and out of focus, the thought of being one doorway away from being caught. You imagine Marcia in her backyard, almost in plain view of you two right now, seeing you propped up on the counter with your dad’s best friend between your legs, fucking the hell out of you.

And then your eyes find Joel again, beads of sweat at his forehead, cheeks flushed. He meets your lazy gaze and his hand takes your jaw, thumb and finger on each side.

“Good?” he asks, breathless, teeth gritted.

You nod.

Then Joel nods. “Good.” His eyes close over and he fucks you even harder onto his length, hurting so good every time your bodies connect.

The heat is stifling, not from the Texan summer, but from the two of you – sweating, panting, fucking off one another, bodies slipping against and sticking. The air fills thick with your stifled moans, Joel’s bitten grunts, the slapping of skin, your wet mixing with his.

You can’t take it anymore. Your head lulls back with a loud, long moan. Joel knows that moan.

“Think I should let you cum?” he asks. “You think you deserve it?”

“Fuck – please – Joel,” you’re panting, and he spanks your ass again. It doubles you over; your head collapses against his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, contemplating. “Dunno if you do, babygirl.”

“L-let me cum,” you plead, tears falling from your eyes, electricity whirling around your core. Your head rolls around on his strong shoulder. “’m so close.”

“Know you are, darlin’. ‘s too easy to do this to you,” Joel pants, breath jerking each time his hips do. “Get so wound up for me, every damn time.”

“Joel,” you’re begging now, unable to loosen your grip on his shoulders. “Fucking – please.”

“Come over for five minutes and you can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

You whimper in response, the feeling between your legs turning to tightly-wound pain. Your hands have come down to hold onto the edge of the counter, marble cutting into your damp skin under your grip.

“Want to…Want…”

“Tell me, baby. Talk.”

“Want to cum, Joel,” you pine, eyes screwing shut.

“I’m gonna let you, pretty girl. You don’t gotta worry about that. Just gotta ask nicely, huh?”

“Fuck,” you whisper, stars and tears clearing from your vision to reveal him once more. You don’t have the fucking energy to beg him anymore. Not like this. “Please, Joel.”

“Nicer.”

“Please let me cum, promise I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet.”

He laughs, some smug, cocky laugh. If you had a sliver of energy and half the feeling in your body, you’d bat his arm.

“Don’t want you to be quiet, angel. You wanted to get caught, remember? Get us caught, then. Let ‘em all hear just what you’re up to.”

“No,” you moan, head shaking, “don’t wanna get caught. Just w-wanna cum. Please, Joel…”

You shake your head, pathetic beg painted all over your face. Joel’s expression falters, softens, only for a nanosecond, but you know him well enough to notice it. Something in his exterior breaks, something cracks.

“Then why didn’t you fuckin’ say so?” he coos. His arms wrap around you – finally – holding you up against his torso, his lips pressed to your ear. “Come on, darlin’, you can let go.”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before it happens. Your orgasm floods over you, pulsing from your soaking pussy up and across your stomach, lighting your shoulders and tightening your grip on Joel. You bite into his shoulder, muffling a sob as your walls contract, coil snaps, tension relieves.

You fucking hurt. All over. You don’t even feel him pull out, don’t realize he’s gone until he’s pumping cum all over your stomach, jacking himself to the sound of you coming undone. It’s only when you come around and feel the hot wet rolling down your tummy that you notice.

Joel’s breathing is labored. His dark tee has sweat patches under the arms, along his chest. You can feel it on his back.

You lean against him for what feels like hours, legs either side of him, his soft dick on your stomach, cum seeping into your panties. He lets you, just holds you tight and gently sways, listening to your breath slowly steadying, feeling your body stop shaking.

His voice is nothing but vibrations under your cheek, resting safely on his chest. Your ears are still ringing too loud to actually hear the words he says.

When you don’t reply, Joel’s hands cup your cheeks and lift your head to face him. You read the words on his lips.

“Need to know you’re okay before I go.”

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

“Can you walk?”

Your eyes roll back by themselves as he takes a step back, one hand around yours, the other braced in case you fall. You slip off the counter shakily, and, with as much effort as it’d probably take to go for a hike right now in the sun, you stand straight.

“I can take it,” you tell him.

Joel takes a deep breath. “Know you can, baby. Did so well for me.” He tugs his tee down over your stomach to cover the mess he’s made. “You want help cleaning up?”

You give one lazy shake of your head, almost entirely leaning on your shoulder. “I’m gonna head for a shower anyways.”

He takes your shorts and kneels, pulling them back over your legs one by one. You’re bracing yourself on his shoulders, and he stands as he settles them on your waist.

Joel gives your hand a gentle pull and leads you down the hallway. You walk with him, knees weak, to the front door. Joel holds it open and you let go of his fingers to step into the burning sun, hand coming up to shield your eyes. The breath of fresh air wakes you up from your state a little.

“Bright one,” you murmur, as his shoulder comes to meet yours.

“Oh, mornin’, Joel,” Hank calls from the sidewalk as he hobbles by, newspaper under his arm. He sings your name and you nod back in greeting. “You’re both up ‘n about early.”

“Broken TV,” Joel waves back, turning to look at you, “and a few other things needed fixin’.”

Hank nods and keeps walking. When he rounds the corner toward his own house, you glance back at Joel.

“What?” you ask.

“Still wearin’ my shirt.”

“You want it back now? Here ‘n now?”

“If you’re offering a striptease, baby, I’ll take it. Out here or inside, I don’t mind.”

You slap his arm and turn back to head inside. “I’ve had enough of you today.”

“You call me anytime that TV starts playin’ up, darlin’,” he calls over his shoulder.

You blindly throw your middle finger up over your shoulder in response, and feel his strong fingers wrap around your wrist. He tugs you back, and you swirl around to meet his stoic gaze.

“Day or night,” he tells you, “you call me.”

He walks off to his truck.

----------

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gatorbites-imagines · 6 months

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Dude, Absolutely write more about Steve and his 200 year old boyfriend. I wanna see into their life together more. Does Y/N become part of the avengers? What’s an average day for the two of them? What do the other Avengers think of them together? Has Steve ever called Y/N daddy out in public or in earshot of the other Avengers on accident? How inseparable are they? Anything you can come up with I’ll love man. Your writings so damn good!

Steve Rogers x Male reader

Headcanons

I was honestly so in love with the kinktober prompt with Steve and his 200-year-old lover, so I got excited when I got this request. Let’s say his hero name is Titan, just to have some old school sounding name.

The morning after your reunion, the two of you just laid in Steves bed, basking in each other’s presence and the fact that you were both alive.

After many kisses, from pecks to deep tongue filled kisses, and after a few rounds of Steve riding you again, as he was so taken with the fact that he finally could, you two finally talked.

You explained to him how you were a mutant, and how sorry you were for never telling him, how it had never crossed your mind to do so. And he apologized for throwing his life away like that, and leaving you the way he did.

Over the next couple of weeks, you stay in his apartment, even when Steve goes out to do avenger work or do stuff for SHIELD. He is always so tense when he walks in through the door, but he quickly finds you and crawls into your lap with a sighed “Daddy”, as if your presence alone is enough to calm him.

During this time, you introduce him to the future better than anyone else is able too, even rewarding him for being such a good student, just for the fun of it. You also end up telling him not to trust SHIELD, as you’ve seen who is involved with it, and what they do.

The Avengers team just assume Steve is uncomfortable with the future, and that’s why he’s always rushing home after missions or meetings, but in reality its to get home to you. When days are too rough, all he needs is you to squeeze him so tight his vision starts blurring and he’s left lightheaded.

He needs his daddy to take him out of his head, to take away his duty as Captain America, and just let him be your boy. Being with you is refreshing in the way that you always see him as Steve before you see him as Captain America, you’ll always see him as your boy before anything else.

The avengers first discover your existence during the attack on New York, as there is no way in hell you’ll allow your boy to run around on his own, especially not when you have more than a hundred years of experience than any of the members of the Avengers.

So, imagine their surprise when you come crashing in on your motorcycle, throw it right at a cluster of enemies, and immediately start tearing through the enemies with extreme skill.

I haven’t decided if you have any powers except for extreme strength, regeneration, no aging, the likes. But if you want, you can imagine the reader having any powers you want.

When everything is done and over with, the team, except for Steve, tenses when you start marching towards them. Seeing how you ripped apart the aliens with as much difficulty as one would a sheet of paper, they are on edge.

That is until you walk right past Tony, right past Natasha, right past all of them, walking right towards Steve. Whose face you take in your hands and start turning him this way and that, checking him over for injuries.

They’re all speechless to a certain degree, some more than others, especially when they see Steve start smiling and blushing like some kind of fair maiden.

Tony pulls a whole “are you guys also seeing this”, especially when you kiss Steve out of nowhere, and Steve almost arches into it, forgetting his shield somewhere on the ground to clutch onto you like a couple in an action movie.

Tony ends up being the one clearing his throat and being all “soooo… you gonna introduce us?” to get Steve and your attention.

Steve almost ends up introducing you as his Daddy, but he catches himself the last second and introduces you as his lover from before the war. When they want to know how you’re still alive, you just shrug and say you’re a mutant and you go by Titan.

After that you just kinda start hanging around the tower, but you aren’t an official part of the team. You don’t want to work for SHIELD, and you don’t want to work for the government. you’re also technically an honorary member of the X-men, a role you take seriously.

You end up getting along pretty well with the rest of the team, as you can take an interest in at least some of the things they are all into. You especially get along well with Tony, when you tell him you knew his father, and that he was a huge tool.

Seeing Steve with a man means that most of them need to change up the mental image they had of Steve, but seeing how happy and domestic you guys are, it’s clear it’s been a long-lasting relationship that just wasn’t in the history books.

If you guys end up rescuing Bucky and fixing him up without the whole civil war situation, you all end up just kinda living at the tower. You have your own apartment in Brooklyn, but its mainly for storage or if you and Steve need to go somewhere without anyone with super hearing nearby.

In the end its Bucky that exposes you guys for your title thing, as Steve has been too embarrassed to do it out in public the way you guys used too, and you respect his wants and needs.

It’s said in a very casual conversation too. Something along the lines of Bucky asking Steve “so, where’s was your daddy going this week anyway?” after you left to help the X-men. It causes a laugh from some of your teammates, as they think it’s a joke, until they see the blush on Steves face.

They’d think it’s just a kink for the bedroom in the beginning, until they start paying attention and hearing Steve mumble it to you when he needs comfort or reassurance. That’s when they learn its much more than just a kink.

It’s a way for Steve to give up all the pressure and responsibilities he feels in his life, for him to feel small and protected, to feel cared for, no matter what mistakes he may make. Its also there to reassure you that you are wanted and needed, that there is someone who loves you so deeply they want you to carry such a title to them.

Most of your team doesn’t really get it, but most of them have probably also seen weirder in their lives. Steve is also still a very private person in that regard, so it doesn’t call you that out in public, and you don’t make him.

Steve does allow himself to be more affectionate and vulnerable with you when your teammates are around, since they to some degree know what kind of relationship you guys have.

Like sitting in your lap on the couch when the team has movie nights, or letting you serve him dinner, or leaning against your chest when you hug him from behind. Or the times he is unsure of what to do in certain situations, and he looks at you for guidance.

Bucky is the calmest about it, since he remembers it from the 40s, and he had been around when it all started out. He didn’t have a title like you did, but he had seen how much comfort it brought you two, so he never questioned it.

So, all in all, the team accepts it as a dynamic you two have that they don’t really get involved with. Your knowledge helps them take down Hydra, and keeps lotsa the drama that happens in the movies from happening. Steves daddy didn’t just save him, but a lot of his teammates and innocent lives. Yay for Steves daddy.

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rhinestonz · 5 months

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☆ FRAGILE ☆

People appreciate beauty in many different ways. Some admire from afar , some praise. However , your roommates Gojo and Geto , we’re the kind that loves to step in pristine snow. The kind that like to taint beauty just for the fun of it.

Roommate!Satosugu x Virgin!reader. Blowjob , doggy style , virginity loss , name calling a bit. Fingering. Masterbation.

There was no doubt in your mind that the universe was punishing you for everything you had ever done when you got paired with Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo as roommates. Paired with the men whose names floated around campus like warnings of a ghost. They were cruel… according to everyone else. They were never cruel to you. So nice since you moved in , helping you unpack , making you a welcome meal , showing you around. Maybe the rumors were just rumors. Well , except for one , the one about them being hot… fuck were they hot. If that rumor weren’t true you wouldn’t be in the confines of your room desperately trying to make your fingers do something for you. Soft desperate whimpers stifled by the biting of your lip. Tears of frustration running down your cheek. “F-fuck I can’t do it “ you cried, a genuine small sob. Frustrated beyond belief, throwing yourself back into your pillow, moving your fingers around your clit desperately. That’s the only satisfaction you could give yourself.

Your body shot up at the sound of your door creaking. Eyes widening meeting shaded blue eyes. Gojo stood at your door frame, arms crossed , lips curled in amusement. He walked towards your figure. “ Hey Geto , come check this out “ you yelled into the living room. His booming voice snapping you out of your shock.” Oh um Gojo you're not supposed to be home” your voice shook as you frantically pulled your blanket over yourself only for it to be yanked away. “ and you’re not supposed to be touching yourself so horribly” Gojo sassed at you. Your silk nightgown rolled up to your hips and your cunt glisting , clenching around nothing. The sight making both males hard. Geto arrived in your room in no time , standing over your bed looking over to gojo who had scooped your wrist up. “No wonder you’re struggling slut .. fingers so tiny there useless “ he spat , passing your wrists onto geto before his fingers prodded at you gummy walls. Your head shot back , his fingers filled you up so easily, with no effort. It was honestly embarrassing. “F-fuck Gojo please~” you choked out , your legs moving. Not used to this stimulation. “ relax baby “ Geto cooed , spreading your legs nice and wide for Gojo, “ we just wanna help ~”

They helped you all right. Gave you everything they had. “ fuck your so tight baby-“ Geto grunted , his tip being sucked in by your cunt. “ Crazy , did I not stretch her out well enough?” Gojo asked incredulously “ swear lil virgin cunts never cease to amaze me” he sighed , grunting as your warm mouth enveloped him. “ she got such a good throat on her though!” he chuckled , his arms behind his head. With your shaking arms squashed beneath you, you moved your fingers to your clit , trying desperately to get off even more. Geto scoffed at you “ you still tryna use those useless things ?!” He asked , slapping your hands away. Your whine of disappointment turning into a moan as his warm fingers replaced yours. You could tell he knew what he was doing. He had a pattern , he was skilled. “ I’m not enough for you baby? , first time you're getting some dick but you're still so needy”. you let out a soft whimper on Satoru’s cock. Surprised you hadn’t choked with how it was hitting the back of your throat.

It was like they had a connection. With one look at each other they both matched up their paces. Your whimpers pitiful as your throat and cervix were hit at the same time. You finally choked on Satoru’s cock only to be forced back down and told to breathe through your nose. A task hard with his giant length. Your legs shaking violently as Geto pounded into you, unrelenting thrusts filling up your core. You felt yourself melt as warm liquid filled both of your holes. Letting a long moan ring against Gojo’s length. The two males grunting and panting as you whimpered. White spilling from your mouth and dripping from your cunt. The sound of exhaustion being broken by their words in unison “See pretty girl.. we helped you!” They smiled. There was another rumor , that they were amazing at sex.. you were so glad to know that rumor was true also.

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catscidr · 6 days

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i. note — i have so many thoughts about akademiya era dottore. most of them are silly and fun and cute i promise but some of them are..... Nothing like that. help me i need to Ruin Him. ong when i get my hands on him……… ii. includes — akademiya!dottore (zandik), gn reader iii. cw — i'm literally just rambling so have fun. he's kindof a brat, reader is implied to have more experience. making out, dry humping, outercourse. smut so mdni. no penetration

akademiya!zandik whose social circle is practically nonexistent; if he’s not tinkering with machine parts he found in some abandoned ruin then he’s nose deep into an old book, trying to absorb knowledge directly through the pages. so, of course it’s not a surprise when he doesn’t know how to act normal around people

akademiya!zandik who would be so pent up and so so so sooooo sensitive! he wouldn’t even get himself off ever, choosing to soothe his curiosity about khaenrian machines over his own carnal, lustful needs. even something as simple as a hug gets his blood rushing straight down (much to his frustration!! he's supposed to be a scholar, not some hormonal beast..........)

it would be so easy to rile him up.. be a little too touchy and “oblivious” to how your “platonic” affection gets to him and BAM now he can’t focus on what he’s doing because his heartbeat is just throbbing in his crotch. he’ll read the same line five times before he realizes that nothing is getting through his head (and instead something else is getting in his other head…….)

akademiya!zandik who would most definitely be a whiner. when you finally get him to pay attention to you he’s all mad n whatever, weakly scolding you for even daring to interrupt his studies. but as he swivels his chair around to face you, he sees you standing over him, looking down at his cute scowl, n he feels his cock jump at the sight. you looked almost angelic, the overhead lighting creating a makeshift halo around your head…

zandik who interrupts his own rambling just to look at you. or, uh, to gawk at you. while you peer down at the….. effect you have on him

you step forward and raise your leg to place your knee between his thighs on his chair, and bend down to get closer to his face. his breath hitches and he swallows thickly all while holding your gaze— at this point he might as well have hearts in his eyes. but he’s still scowling n his brows are all furrowed…. wonder when and how he’ll finally lose that tension in his face. hmmmm……..

even just a kiss on the cheek would fluster him, because of course it would! but what about a kiss on the lips? what about a messy french kiss, filled with tongue and teeth clashing clumsily as you absolutely devour him while all he can do is moan into your mouth and shut his eyes to prevent them from rolling back into his skull?

poor baby would be struggling to breathe, fingers tangling themselves into your uniform in a poor attempt to let you know he wants to tap out. you get what he’s trying to do, of course, but why not push him to his limits? tease him a little? his muffled moans feel like music to your ears and you want to hear the entire symphony

but when you finally pull away, a lewd string of saliva connecting your tongues, poor zandik can’t help the moan that leaves his bruised lips. he pulls you in again, chest heaving up and down to catch his breath, n tries to go for another kiss. you let him pull you in but you don’t return the kiss, instead choosing to keep your lips shut tightly as he whines and huffs out elaborate curses to try to make you indulge him

and indulge him you will when he learns how to beg for what he wants. to your surprise he learns fairly quickly— even if he’s a little bad at it. but it’s charming!! “just fucking kiss me again goddamnit”, “i wanna kiss you again. let me kiss you”, and your favourite, “p… please?”

it's right then that you make it your life’s mission, your purpose to make him stutter like that every single day.

and it’s almost cathartic when you touch him, even if your clothes are still in the way. still balancing yourself on the chair (and also pinning him to it in turn, hehe) you bump your knee against his erection, a breathy moan blessing your ears from zandik himself. his grip on your top is so tight you think he might even rip it, god knows the last time he trimmed his nails

zandik who would grind himself on your knee without even realizing what he’s doing, all the while you coo in his ears about what a good job he’s doing, what a good boy he is.

zandik who would yearn for more, who would weakly cuss you out when you refuse to let him fuck you.

zandik who, even with his enormous ego, would still follow you around like a lost puppy, begging you to teach him everything you know

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momolady · 6 months

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2023 Year End Stats

Not to be stereotypical or anything, but for me at least, 2023 was an odd year. I bled for 6 months straight, dealt with the worst pain I still can't comprehend, had a hysterectomy, moved in with my partner, got some cats, dealt with a lot of stress, watched the world burn. Yeah, it's been pretty good to outweigh the bad.

But anyways! I've done the math and put together a list of my stories that performed the best this year. At least in terms of notes anyways. I'm also going to share my stories that didn't perform as well and hope they get the love they deserve.

Anyways, let's get on with the count down. Forty total stories have published on Tumblr this year. Sixty-six were published on Patreon. Top monsters were orcs (7), Vampire (3), Fae, Minotaur, Romm Monster, Lich (all 2).

Top Ten Stories:

10. Kahann the Naga

This one would probably be in my top ten favorites to write of the year. This dark, twisted romance between a lonely, isolated girl shipwrecked on an island with the dangerous and sexy Kahann struck the dark romance itch I've been wanting to scratch.

9. Keir the Orc

Comfy farm romance that features annoyances to lvoers. What else could you want? Orcs are always fun to write, I feel I could do it with my eyes closed, but thankfully I don't wanna do that.

8. Atharo the Lich

The pink lich, this one had imagery in it I couldn't get out of my head. the visions of this pink lich still huant me and I wish I could conjur such sstrong imagery still.

7. Asier the Drider

A simple premise we cann understand. Getting packages and ordering online is probably yhe msot fun we can have without leaving our homes. But what if your neighbor was annoyed by this? And what if that neighbor was a drider?

6. Auberon the Room Monster

The enchanted library. i think I've written more about the romance and mystery of bookstores an libraries more than anything. But this story was special, with lots of worldbuilding wrapped like a blanket around these characters. The room this monster stays in is the library, and who doesn't wanna spend time with that guy?

5. Marek the Vampire

This murky, dark, and swampy tale is one of those that stays with me. The idea of a different sort of vampire, one in the bogs and wetlands of a strange peninsula that gets flooded every year haunts me. The image of him is one of my absolute favorite creations and I hope I get to visit this peninsula village again.

4. Placide the Paralangua

This story marks the beginning and growth of my Charcourt universe. Liek Hearthway Hollow it's a town filled to the brim with straneg creatures, only it's the Paralangua, alligator type monsters who throw a festival every year to celebrate their history and the continued growth of Charcourt. Is it a cult? Maybe. There's a new five part tale of this area up on Patreon now.

3. Ben the Werewolf

Enmies to lovers, I think most people get on board with this trope. This tale of Hearthway Hollow delves into the relationship between two high school enemies who reconnect after years and manage to put aside their competitivness to find one another. The lead in thisstory is also Rowan's little sister.

2. Leraye the Demon

Demons are always fun. My demon characters have ways of weaving themselves in and out of the world we know, sometimes as proper members of society, often not. Leraye is one of those that visits our world as a full time member, seeing out the comforts of a Chinese bakery whose owners are a family with ties into the reality he avoids.

Florenz the Vampire Bat

This would for sure also be on my favorites of the year. This dark story wove together elements of fantasy, horror, and romance that I love to death. The lead is sophisticated and dashing, the lead is adventurous and excitable. The chemistry between the leads while writing this tale was so good.

The Ten Least Appreciated Stories

10. Juniper the Tiefling

I am deeply disappointed this didn't do as well as I expected. This story was based on characters me and my bff made for a one shot DND session. So this story was more personal to me than others. but more than that, I feel it had some of my best banter!

9. Rocco the Guard

Another personal tale based on ideas me and my friend came up with during a visit where we watched the Owl House together. I also greatly enjoyed the leading lady who was smart, spunky, and chaotic in the absolute best ways.

8. Ozzie the Werewolf & Tryfon the Naiad

It has a trans lead, it has polyamory, it was set in hearthway Hollow! I thought this story was serving up gold on a platter. But maybe people weren't in the mood for gold. The comedy in this is top notch, at least I thought.

7. Laertes the Fae

Another story where the dialogue I feel sparkles and pops with every interaction the characters had. This did only recently come out, so maybe it'll grow after this.

6. Ransom the Shapeshifter

Another personal story based around lore me and my bff created for our Stardew Valley characters. It also featured a nonbinary lead and monster, I thought people would be excited for this. I loved playing with the avant-garde sci-fi aspect and being a little weird. But maybe that's why people didn't like it too much lol

5. The Leshy

Another story that would be in my top ten for my personal favorites to write. I loved the complexity of the leading lady and crafting her has made her a personal favorite. The characters and world of this story will be one that stays with my thoughts as I think about the cozy, dark streets anfdthe moss covered steps of the buildings.

4. Jaqueline the Dullahan

This story has it all! Chocolate, Halloween, a sexy dullahan chef, and it's a lesbian romance. Maybe I don't have enough wlw readers but this story came from a ko-fi prompt I wrot and just grew into a full fledged story. I really enjoyed the atmosphere of this story and how it felt like a cozy fireplace with hot cocoa.

3. Beast the Symbiote

Beast is a character I have been wanting to get out into the world for years. She's such a complex villain character, and who doesn't love that. I feel like she is one of my coolest characters. Lucky Devil was also a character I had been dying to get out, she's been in my head since I watched Magi Madoka and she took form slowly over the years. She is in part based on me, and I want to do more with this lovely couple.

2. Fia the Selkie

I'm starting to see a pattern here. Male reader stories aren't ya'lls cup of tea? Too bad, I have some amazing male readers and commissioners I adore working for. Fia was this comforting warm blanket of a story. A struggling musician and the lovely Selkie he's come to be with. I really love this story, please check it out if you want some comfort.

1.Ria the Orc: an AU

I'm actually a wee bit pissed about this one. Another male reader, and Ria is a character I've come to absolutely love. This was written for a commissioner I've come to consider a friend, and writing for him has become an amazing experience. Ria and her beau have also become such real, loving characters in my head. This was an AU of the modern monsters Ria where she is in Obresh and participates in the Reaping. Who doesn't love Reaping stories? C'mon folks, give these ten stories the love they deserve!

Thank you all for an amazing year! Next year I will hopefully publish and you're going to see bigger and grander things from me, I owe that to all of you. Keep a look out for my Ozren novel hitting the shelf soon. Thank you so much and I hope I continue to write stories you love.

#top ten #year in review #2023 #monster romance #monster fuqqer #monster smut #orc #vampire #lich #fae #writblr #writing community #creative writing #personal

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blue-jisungs · 5 months

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heyy!! can u do forced proximity with enemy jisung? like the dreamies decided to play hide and seek and then he gets into ur hiding spot last second

thank u and i hope ur doing well!

the closet enlightenment

author's note. i hope you enjoy this one!! it was so silly to write hehe thank you for reqing and i hope life has been treating you good too <3

honestly i love being a writer. this fic had me going into my closet to check if it would be possible for two people to stand or squat there 👍👍

word count. 1554

you were nervously scratching the surface of the mug in your hands, eyeing renjun. however, your friend seemed to full-on ignore you, throwing jokes and laughing with his friends. jisung, who was sat next to you and due to the size of the couch, was squeezed and his leg was leaning against yours. it could seem like a small thing but for you – and your tense relations with said boy – this whole thing made you grumpy.

mark must have noticed the way you sat, all tensed up and jisung, whose tips of ears were dusted with a cute pink shade.

“wait, i know! let’s play hide and seek!” mark grinned and stood up, opening his arms as if he was offering a serious business deal.

the boys agreed happily and renjun finally looked at you, a ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips.

“i’ll pass. i’m not ten” you mumbled and jeno whined.

“you’re no fun” jaemin snickered and pulled jisung “who’s searching first?”

“mark!” someone yelled and in no time they all ran off, leaving you and mark in the living room. he blinked slowly and scratched his neck.

“you’re not ten because he’s with wayv, preparing for the comeback… get it? well… nevermind. if you don’t wanna play, that’s fine dude. i just saw you’re a bit… tense” mark said suddenly and you shook your head.

“maybe i’ll play. it was just too crowded on this couch” you smiled softly and looked around “if you want i can help you”

“deal” mark sent you a boyish grin and started counting.

after an hour, they all gathered in the living room and renjun jaemin tucked your sleeve.

“c’mon, play with us” he whined and you looked at renjun, begging him for help.

“i… i don’t know the spots here…” you mumbled and chenle just shook his head.

“oh just go and play, don’t be such a loser. one… two…” renjun started counting suddenly, causing the boys to yelp and run off in different directions. your friend looked at you and offered: “if you win this one i’ll buy us some pizza?”

“eh… whatever. just count a bit longer, i don’t know the place very well–” you started and renjun just pushed you, giggling.

“just go!” he said and you scoffed, going ahead.

you saw a glimpse of someone running in one of the bedrooms, so there was still hope for you.

since it was their dorm, you figured you’d hide in renjun’s bedroom. he was the one who insisted on playing, so he wouldn’t mind if you hid in his belongings. but you had to find a good spot–

“seventeen… eighteen…”

shit.

not behind the door, he would notice right away. you wouldn’t squeeze under the bed. so you had two choices left: behind a curtain or inside the closet.

the curtains were see-through though, so you’d have to pass. closet it is then.

“… twenty seven…”

thanks to the fact that renjun had a single room, his closet was huge and filled with clothes. if you shuffled behind them, maybe he won’t see you.

so you closed the door once in, trying to squeeze behind the piles of luxurious clothes. your heart sped in anticipation, a feeling of a sudden rush buzzing through your veins. the whole hide and seek game unlocked a core memory, causing your inner child to–

out of the blue, the door to the closet swung open and someone barged in. closing the door quietly, the darkness surrounded you once again as the stranger bumped into you.

“ow!”

“eeek!”

“–ty! i’m done! i’ll find you all!” renjun’s voice was muffled because of the distance.

“who are you?” you whispered, reaching your hands out. you felt a soft material of someone’s hoodie, then you found a string. you tugged it gently but the person lost their balance and bumped onto you again.

“it’s me, jisung!” he whisper-yelled “sorry… i didn’t think anyone would dare to hide here. especially you”

“huh? why?” you asked. it was starting to get hot in here, not only because of the partially cut flow of oxygen but also he pissed you off. like, couldn’t he find a better place to hide…

“last time jeno hid here, he stepped on a box with some fashion accessories and broke them all. renjun got real mad…” jisung mumbled “but i panicked… i was hiding underneath the bed but i think mark used that spot before so…”

“do you think he’ll find us?” you murmured, trying to squeeze yourself into the corner of the closet to get as far away as possible.

“maybe if we cover ourselves good enough, he won’t even notice us if he opens the closet…?” jisung thought out loud and suddenly the realisation hit you like a pile of bricks.

his body is almost pressed into yours already, his breath gently tickling your cheek. and he wants to squeeze even more…?

“get off me” you grunted, trying to push him away.

“yah, y/n” he scoffed, staying still in place “i’m not glad to be here too…”

“then you should’ve stayed the bed” hissing, you tried to turn around but only nudged him with your elbow.

“ow, woman!” he whined, the sudden hit in his stomach causing him to almost fold in half. because it was dark, he didn’t see the hangers and his head hit one of them. letting out another painful grunt, you tried to choke your laugh.

“stop, he’ll hear us” jisung grunted, tugging your sleeve.

“then stop talking, idiot” you mumbled, fighting a smile.

“it’s not even that funny…” he started but cracked up too, massaging the spot he got hit in.

“there’s someone here” renjun suddenly singsang from the other side of the closet and you froze.

jisung quickly grabbed a random cloth and suddenly got even closer to you, throwing the material over your heads.

“what are you–” you started, whisper-yelling and out of the blue you felt a warm, big hand in your mouth.

in a blink of an eye, the door from the closet must have swung open because little light got in. because of that you were able to at least see – for a split moment – the outline of jisung’s face.

and he was intimidatingly close.

you felt blood rushing to your face, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear that renjun is rummaging through his clothes.

as an instinct, your hand frew to grab and squeeze something. this so happened to be jisung’s other hand. his eyes widened and he had to stop himself from groaning when you squeezed his hand.

“hm, that’s weird…” renjun mumbled and closed the door.

jisung took off his hand from your mouth before you let your intrusive thoughts win to lick it. well, he was just lucky.

“close one, huh?” he teased.

“shut up, he’ll hear you” you mumbled.

your tensed relationship with jisung started ever since you met. he always found a way to eat your leftovers, lose things, be last to everything (especially that one time when they got in an elevator and closed the door before you could enter, leaving you walk six floors up). he was funny… and cute, sure. but pissed you off. and you probably pissed him off too, either way.

but now… you kinda enjoyed his company. after all, he was renjun’s friend so–

“you’re still holding my hand, y/n” jisung said, voice somewhat shy but with a hint of teasing tone.

“whatever” you mumbled, with no idea how to bite back.

jisung relaxed his hand but didn’t let go first, he was waiting for you to do it. almost as if he didn’t want to lose the feeling of your hand in his.

“okay, i give up! y/n, jisung come out! i’ll order pizza!”

“do you think it’s a trick?” you asked, the sudden silence making you realize how fast your heart was beating. what if he heard it all…?

“no, probably not. let’s get out, i can’t breathe anymore” jisung sighed, putting away the hangers so you had a passage.

“what a gentleman” you snickered and just when you were about to open the door, you heard him murmur:

“yeah, if you come out first and he’s there i’ll still win”

“asshole” grunting, you left the closet. you had to squint your eyes to get used to the light again but you noticed renjun isn’t there “okay, let’s just go”

jisung followed you and you saw his face dusted with a pink shade. it’s probably due to the (lack of) air, anyways…

when you returned, chenle gasped.

“you were hiding together?”

“i think they were doing a bit more than that…” jaemin snickered looking at your red faces.

“shut up. we were in the closet, it was so stuffy there” he mumbled yet you noticed how the color on his face deepened. renjun frowned.

“but i checked the closet…” he hummed in thought.

you sat down on the couch and the boy did the same, sitting next to you again. his leg against yours, gaze nervously avoiding yours.

later on in the future you two would call this the closet enlightenment, when jisung realized he had a crush on you… and you figured it out and just teased him about it until he confessed.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @w3bqrl ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 1 month

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Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 7

The day of Hector’s game day party comes before Kara knows it. Lena drives them both in the dusty pick up, blasting N*SYNC with the windows down. Kara is more than happy to sing along– Lena’s unabashed enjoyment revives Kara’s memories of her teenage years, and the afternoons she’d spent with Kenny with N*SYNC playing on the radio. These days, Kara can acknowledge that they may not be objectively good, but they’re fun.

At Hector’s they and Kara’s seven layer dip are received with a warm, enthusiastic welcome. Kara’s handshake is ignored by Jess and Cecilia both, who greet her with the same hugs they offer Lena.

“Congratulations on the college admission!” Kara lauds Jess, her smile genuine.

“Yeah,” Lena chimes in, bumping Jess with her shoulder. “You should have told us at the bar, you fink.”

Jess remains utterly unapologetic. “I could see you had more important matters on your mind,” she quips, giving Kara a pointed look and earning a round of laughter.

After that, Kara is swept up in a flurry of introductions, not just of Hector’s friends, but Lena’s coworkers as well.

“Hi Nia,” she greets readily at the sight of the younger woman, who grins at her.

“Fancy seeing you here, Sergeant,” Nia chirps as blithe as Jess. “Enjoying your time so far?”

Kara blinks in confusion. “We just got here…?” She shoots a look at Lena, who rolls her eyes.

“She means with me,” Lena tells her. Kara’s jaw gapes a little, shocked enough that words don’t immediately pop out. Lena doesn’t give her long anyway. “Wanna beer?”

“Uh… sure?”

Lena nods. “I got it.” She gives Nia a sharp look. “Be nice.”

With that, Lena saunters off, leaving Kara to the wolves. Kara turns back to Nia, whose grin remains in place. “Hi,” Kara tries again.

“Sergeant Danvers!”

A new voice booms behind her, making Kara jump. She turns to find Brainy studiously regarding her.

“You are precisely on time,” he clips.

Kara nods solemnly. “Entirely Lena’s fault.”

Nia groans. “Querl, what are you talking about? They just showed up!” She waves a hand between them. “We were on time.”

“Miss Nal, surely you are aware of the social moray that dictates the perfect time to arrive at a gathering is no less than fifteen minutes past the proscribed start time. By such expectations, the Lieutenant and the Sergeant arrived right on time.”

“And we were…?”

“Early, of course.”

Nia throws up her hands. “You were the one who insisted we show up at two!”

“But of course!” Brainy responds, clasping his hands behind his back. “As another custom states: to be early is to be on time.”

With a groan, Nia turns back to Kara. “You see what I have to work with?” In the end, she thrusts out her hand. “Nia Nal. Nice to properly meet you.”

Kara takes her hand with a grin. “Kara Danvers. Likewise.”

At that moment, Lena reappears. She hands over a bottle of Samuel Adams, but Kara notices that she’s claimed a can of rootbeer for herself. Her brow furrows at the sight of it. She sees that Nia also holds a soda, along with a few other firefighters dotted throughout the room.

“On call?” she surmises.

Lena nods, cracking open the can and sipping the fizz that bubbles over. The way she looks sheepishly at Kara over the edge of the can is entirely ungraceful, but Kara thinks she might be in love with this woman.

“Smooth,” is all she says, earning a wink in return.

Lena tilts her head towards the living room. “Game’s on, if you’re interested.”

Kara smirks. “What game?”

“Exactly!” Nia exclaims. “I’m just here for the food. And the company,” she amends quickly. “Gonzales is great. I like him.”

Lena shrugs. “You’re not the only one,” she says, even as a round of raucous laughter fills the house. A large group has gathered around Hector, clearly enjoying whatever story he’s telling.

“How long have you known him?” Nia asks casually. Kara expects Lena to deflect, but instead she gamely takes a swig of her root beer.

“Served two tours.”

Nia nods. “Cool, cool.”

As if it’s not more information about Lena’s service than she’s ever told Kara. But then again, she hasn’t exactly asked. She’d resolved to let Lena drive the pace of that conversation, but… maybe she could turn the key in the ignition.

Conversation continues, moving on to other subjects. Kara listens contentedly, and is all too happy to move to the couch when Hector eventually waves them over. He and Lena exchange their special handshake, but Kara keeps hers simple.

“Hi,” she says. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Yeah, my pleasure! I’m glad you all could make it–”

All of a sudden, something in Lena’s pocket starts to buzz, loud and insistent. She’s not the only one who reaches for their phone though– everyone Kara recognizes from Station 13 fishes out their device to glance at their screens.

A call out.

“I guess we’re leaving,” Kara says wryly.

Hector gapes dejectedly. “Man, you just got here!”

“Why don’t you stay?” Lena suggests to Kara as she rises. “I can ride to the station with Nia and Brainy. You can take my truck.”

Kara hesitates. “Really?”

Lena nods, leaning in to give Kara a kiss. “Here,” she says, pressing her keys into Kara’s hand. “Why don’t you go back to mine? I’ll meet you there when we’re done.”

A pleased thrum buzzes through Kara. She’s never been given a key to a partner’s home, even temporarily. Yet here Lena is, for all her secrets, inviting Kara to wait unaccompanied in her apartment.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Lena offers teasingly, sweetening the deal.

Kara grins, accepting the keys with another kiss. “Yeah. Go save the day.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Nia calls. “Come on, LT! Got a warehouse fire with your name on it!”

LEna mutters something unintelligible under her breath, making Kara laugh. Once the door closes behind the departing crew, very few people remain, and none who Kara knows beyond brief introductions. So she remains where she is, studying her beer can as she considers how long to remain out of politeness. But then she senses eyes upon her, and she glances up to find Hector in his wheelchair across the coffee table, studying her with a closely guarded expression.

Kara doesn’t look away. She knows she’s being measured, by someone who respects and adores Lena. Though Lena has yet to show she values Hector in quite the same way, Kara knows his opinion of her will matter. In the end, Hector tilts his head towards the back door.

“Care to get some air, Sergeant?”

Nodding, Kara accepts the invitation readily, as much to make a good impression as to escape a room full of people she doesn’t know. She slides open the door for the both of them, allowing Hector to roll through first before stepping out after him. Outside, it’s pleasant but almost uncomfortably bright in the afternoon sun, so they have the low deck to themselves, the air still smelling faintly of grilled meat.

Kara takes a seat in one of the plastic lawn chairs, closing her eyes against the glaring sun.

“She trusts you.”

Hector’s statement comes with no judgement. When Kara opens her eyes, squinting at her host, his gaze is still taking stock of her. “Yeah?” she asks.

Hector nods.

“It’s kinda hard to tell,” Kara admits. “I mean, it seems she’s having a good time, but I don’t quite have a full read on her yet. But,” she allows, “it’s still early.”

“The only real thing you gotta know about the Sarge is that once she makes a connection, she’s with you to the end. She may not share herself with people, but she cares about them. Too much, sometimes.”

He rubs his palms against his thighs. Kara’s eyes follow the motion, and Hector notices her attention as though expecting it. “Complete SCI of the L1 vertebrae,” he explains. His voice deepens, devoid of his usual enthusiasm. “We were on a convoy when our vehicle hit an IED. Whole thing overturned. Sarge and I are the only ones who made it out.”

Jesus. Kara doesn’t dare say anything, knowing any words she could offer would be hollow in the face of such an experience.

“We were all trapped under the cargo bed, and the cab had caught fire. It was all starting to burn around us. And the Sarge… she wasn’t pinned. She wasn’t pinned. She could have gotten out. She should have. But she didn’t. She had one hand in my guts and held Reggie’s hand with the other.

“I’m here, she kept saying. I’m here.”

Hector looks down at his lap, scowling inwardly.

“On the shows and everything, the doctors always promise that it’s all going to be okay. That they’ll save their patient, no matter what. But Sarge didn’t do that. I’m here. That’s all she said. And she was. When Reggie stopped breathing, she was there. She was there when they fished me out. They got me out of there fast, but Sarge helped haul out the others. She– she wanted more than strangers there. We were hers. And she was there when I got out of surgery. She’s the one who told me about the rest.”

An image flashes across Kara’s mind. The previous weekend, she’d seen a dark smudge on Lena’s ribs– later that night, as Lena slept, Kara had seen that the smudge was a tattoo. A series of tallies, stacked in groups of tens. She’d counted thirteen tallies, and in this moment, Kara knows exactly what Lena’s been tracking.

Unaware of Kara’s revelation, Hector continues with a shake of his head.

“And she’s still taking care of us.” When he notices Kara’s confusion, he continues. “My folks can’t afford to put Jess through school, and my GI benefits don’t apply to siblings. But wouldn’t you know it, Jess got a full ride from a private donor.” He sighs. “I don’t know how she did it, but she did.”

Kara considers that, remembering the way Lena had seemed genuinely surprised by Hector’s good news. She can’t say even now whether she’d be able to spot the act, but the deception doesn’t feel malicious. She doesn’t know if Lena has a malicious bone in her body.

Then again, she could be blinded by the new relationship glow. What does she truly know about Lena anyway?

“Has she ever talked about her family?” Kara asks. Hector glances at her, prompting her to clarify. “I’m not looking for details. I just… I want to know if it’s something she might share, with the right person.”

At that, Hector softens. “None of us ever heard her talk about her family, her home, or anything from her past. Not even which coast she’s from. I know she got razzed for it at first, but in the end… it didn’t matter. It wasn’t her past that held me together, and it wasn’t the last thing Reggie saw. It was just the Sarge, and who she was in that moment. Who she still is.”

At that, Kara nods. That much, Kara’s already seen for herself. Both at the scene where they first met, where she’d hauled a young mother from an inferno, and the previous weekend with Lydia at the farmer’s market. She’d seen the way Lena’s reflex was to help, as innate as the ability to breathe. Not everyone has that– most people need to think, to make the conscious decision to run towards danger.

Not Lena.

“I’m not telling you any of this so you’ll treat her with kid gloves or anything,” Hector says. “Sarge can take care of herself. But like I said– she trusts you. I just want you to know just how special that is.”

He smiles thinly.

“She’ll treat you good, if you let her.”

—

Kara opts to pick up a crate of seltzer on her way to Lena’s after saying goodbye to Hector and his family. Despite the offer of free beer, she wants a clear head tonight. Thoughts swirl in her head as she lets herself into the spartan apartment, and settles on the couch to anxiously wait. She can keep her new knowledge to herself, and a strong part of herself wants to. It feels illicit, to know something about Lena that she didn’t share herself. And what Lena doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, right?

But when the door opens a crack, a few hours later, Lena’s voice makes the decision for her.

“Kara?”

Kara’s brow furrows. Lena had been the one to invite her to wait, but now she sounds like she’s wound tight as a spring, on the verge of fight or flight. As though she doesn’t know what to expect.

Twisting on the couch to face the door, Kara smiles. “Present and accounted for!”

The playful response does the trick. The crack widens fully, and Lena pushes in with a wide grin and two pizza boxes stacked in her right hand. Kara also spots a two liter bottle of Pepsi under one arm. She’s most relieved for Lena’s smile, though, which assures her that the callout hadn’t suffered any casualties.

“Did Gonzales take good care of you?” Lena asks, kicking the door shut. She detours to the kitchen, bustling to retrieve plates and cups to dish up.

Kara smirks, rising to assist. “I don’t think Cecilia or Jess would allow anything less.”

A bark of laughter answers her. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Lena flips up the lids of the pizza boxes, revealing a pepperoni and a cheese. She hands Kara a plate, letting her snag whatever slices she wants. Kara does, and fidgets with the edge of a partial pepperoni as she watches Lena slide two of each on her plate before lifting a messy slice to her mouth. An ooze of cheese slides precariously, and Lena tilts her head back to receive it.

When she catches KAra staring, the grin she gives is wide and beaming. “It’s on my chin, isn’t it?”

Well, it is, but it’s not why Kara is staring. She gathers her courage as she watches Lena fetch a paper towel to smear the grease off her chin.

“Hector told me some things, about the convoy.”

Kara’s voice is low, careful. Lena’s movements stutter to a stop, her entire body stiffening as the mood instantly freezes.

“He had no right to tell you anything about that,” Lena says, her voice rigid.

“It’s his story too, Lena,” Kara returns gently. She allows her shredded piece of pepperoni fall to the plate. “And he didn’t give me many details. Just that you were there, and that you did what you could. That you saved his life.”

She does her best to hold Lena’s gaze, but Lena doesn’t let her. Her pizza lies forgotten on her plate, all the mirth from gooey cheese having evaporated into the ether. Kara studies the tight line of Lena’s lips, all but scowling as she wipes her fingers roughly with a paper towel. It’s the first time she’s seen Lena with anything less than a smile.

Part of her cherishes it, because it’s a new side of Lena she hasn’t experienced yet, but a small seed of dread takes root in her stomach, that this might be the last she sees of Lena at all.

“Lena…”

“Don’t.” Lena finally glares at her. “Don’t say anything.”

But Kara isn’t ready to let it go, despite the precipice she senses beneath her feet.

“I’ve noticed your tattoo,” Kara says softly. Lena scoffs.

“Really? Wow. You’re… Wow.”

Lena ignores the soda she’d brought home, and instead swings to yank a beer out of the fridge. She passes Kara without a glance, slumping onto the couch as she stares at the black screen of her television.

“I’m not asking for you to share anything you don’t want to,” Kara clarifies, slowly trailing Lena into the living room. “I won’t ask if you don’t want me to, but I want to be here for you, whenever, or if ever, you want to talk about it.”

Lena continues to scowl at her drink, sitting propped on one knee. Kara doesn’t want to push, but she needs Lena to understand that she isn’t scared. She kneels in front of Lena, whose gaze reluctantly lifts to meet hers. She can feel the tension around Lena like a bubble, ready to rebuff any attempt to prod further.

“I am so proud of you,” Kara says, quiet but firm. “Despite everything, you haven’t given up. Every day, you still go out there and do what you can to help people.”

Kara takes a steadying breath before finishing.

“That means more than however you might feel you’ve failed.”

Lena’s gaze slides away, scowl firmly in place, and Kara knows that’s the best she’s going to get. She gives Lena’s knee a squeeze.

“I just needed you to know that.”

With that, Kara stands and moves to clear out the sink. It gives her something to do as much as it gives Lena time to decompress. She hears the click of the television turning on, and the hum of voices coming through the low volume, but she suspects Lena isn’t truly watching.

When Kara joins her on the couch to finish whatever program is playing on the tv, she can feel that the reprieve hasn’t been enough. She reaches to offer Lena’s hand a squeeze, but Lena pulls away from her touch, clearing her throat.

“I’m pretty tired,” she says brusquely, her movements sharp and staccatoed. She moves towards the bedroom but pointedly makes no mention of Kara leaving. Kara clings to it, reminding herself again and again that this isn’t about her.

She knows what it’s like, to feel unworthy of any tenderness or affection. Kara has the benefit of therapy and hard work to get her past those feelings– she doesn’t know if Lena has that. Either way, Kara knows the role she wants to play for Lena.

She wants to be the one who stays.

Lingering on the couch, she lets the tv play as she scrolls idly through her phone, one ear pricked towards the bedroom. She doesn’t hear so much as a peep. Once the sun goes down, and the world beyond fades to dusky hues, Kara clicks the tv off and heads to the bedroom.

The light is off, leaving the room in shadows, but she sees enough to notice that Lena has climbed onto the mattress fully clothed. It lets Kara feel a little less awkward when she joins Lena there, inching as close as she dares until she can reach an arm over Lena’s waist. Lena’s still too tense to be asleep, but she doesn’t give any reaction to Kara’s arrival.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

Her question murmurs against Lena’s shoulder blades, low and tender in the quiet room. Too tender, Kara worries, when Lena doesn’t immediately answer. But then, finally, Lena exhales, and curls one hand around Kara’s.

“Yeah.”

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the watch party

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everybodyshusband · 1 month

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mushy may 2024 - day 2 ; late night snacks

pairing(s): swiss/cumulus tags: fluff, snacks, thievery, implied sexual context/fade to black words: approx. 450

read under the cut or on ao3 :)

“I swear to fucking Satan,” Aurora shouts, stalking her way around kitchen area of the bus as if she’s on a mission. “If whoever keeps stealing my snacks doesn’t own up soon, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Cumulus shushes the ghoulette, gently reminding her that it’s much too late for her to be shouting on the tour bus filled with exhausted ghouls but Swiss smiles to himself; it’s nice to see Aurora finally feeling comfortable around the pack.

“Swiss I see you smirking! You better not be the culprit or you’re so gonna regret it…”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart. I promise.” As Aurora gives up questioning him and turns back around to go and rummage around in her bunk for an emergency packet of snacks, Swiss’ eyes flit briefly over to Cumulus, whose hand has been suspiciously hidden behind one of the couch cushions during this entire encounter. “I don’t suppose you’ve got anything to do with this, do you, Lus?” His tone is falsely innocent, eyes overly wide and questioning.

“Of course not, Swissy.” She mimics his tone perfectly, even managing to curb her grin as she pulls out the last packet of Aurora’s snacks from out behind the cushion. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“No,” he agrees, watching with careful eyes as Cumulus opens the packaging as quietly as possible. “Because that would be unfair and wrong.”

“Extremely wrong.” She pops a sour watermelon lolly in her mouth, her eyes half-rolling into the back of her head at the delicious taste. “Mmm, fuck, why are these so good?”

Swiss snorts. “Sounds like you’re having fun,” he teases. “Those snacks showin’ you a good time?”

Cumulus nods, replying with a muffled “Mhmm” through a mouthful of the sweets. Her eyes are closed now, head tipped back in ecstasy as she chews. Once she swallows she turns her head to look at Swiss, grin wide and mischievous. “Hell of a lot better of a time than you ever do.”

Swiss gasps in mock offense, bringing a hand to his heart as if she’s betrayed him. “You take that back!”

“Nope.” She sticks her tongue out at him, smiling widely. “Not unless you wanna come and reclaim your title…”

That gets his attention. He sits up straighter and leans towards her, lowering his voice slightly. “Here?” He’s not a prude by any means and everyone knows he’s always more than happy to engage in the most lustful of sins in the most public of places but the tour bus feels different somehow; they’re all exhausted enough as it is, no one needs to be woken up at this late hour just because neither he or Cumulus could keep their voices down.

She nods. “Right here. C’mon, big boy. Prove it.”

#mushy may 2024 #husband ficlets #swiss ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #husband's mushy may '24

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fukingsad · 1 year

Text

You’re My Home

Ao’nung x Fem!reader

Mainly fluff 🤷🏾‍♀️❤️

Being the eldest child of Toruk Makto means you’re expected to be the example but what will you do when nothing can fill the hole you have within you after leaving your home…? But maybe home isn’t a place.. maybe it’s a person 🤧🤭

𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽𓇽

‘I want to go home’. It was all you could ever think of anymore. Did you show those feelings? No. Why? you were the oldest you had to be composed and give your younger siblings a good example of how to act. But no matter how much you learned, how many friends you made, how much you tried to forget your mind always ended up back to the beautiful bioluminescent forest you had called home for 16 years. Plus having an asshole always reminding you why you didn’t fit in at your new home made it so much worse. You can’t sleep. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was home. Your real home back in the forest. It’s not even morning yet but you can’t just lay here in silence anymore.

You carefully get out of your family’s Marui pod making sure not to wake anyone. Especially tuk if you woke her up it’d be a bad day for everyone. She is a very cranky child.

Did you miss home? Of course, you did, why wouldn’t you? At home, you had a title you were the eldest daughter of Toruk Makto you were an extraordinary warrior and healer you had a future promised to you. But here you were nothing but a freak whose family is hiding away from who they once were.

This is all you could think of as you walk the shore of the deep blue ocean lit up by the beautiful sea creatures living in the water that surrounds your new home. New Home, you hated those words they seemed bitter and every time they were said this new home became more of a reality.

Walking along the shore was peaceful. It gave you a place to think. It gave you a place to feel. You knew as soon as the day began you’d have to pretend that you didn’t miss home your friends your grandmother your sense of self or any form of normality. You felt somewhat content walking until you hear a very familiar annoying voice.

“Oh look the four-fingered freak what are you doing out here already not like you can do much without me to watch you”. Aonung you swear he has no life he couldn’t he cares too much about you and your family to possibly have one.

“As entertaining as it is to argue with you it’s too late for this and I can’t deal with you right now so please just go away”. You said the displeasure of his company showed in not only your tone and face but your body language as you plopped on the cool sand.

One thing Aonung is not is someone to back down even with OBVIOUS social cues to do so. “Well I’m not sure why your acting like this no one told you to leave the little forest and creep into my home, not like any of us want you freaks here anyways,” He told you looking down at you.

His words circulated your head. As if you wanted to leave your home. You wanted to fight for your home but you couldn’t do it now you’re stuck here. How could he think you wanted to leave? You thought to yourself. Standing up quickly which caused the boy to stumble slightly your clenched fist pinned to your side.

“YOU THINK I WANTED TO LEAVE! Why does your dumbass think I wanted to leave, that any of my family would want to leave! oh, how fun it sounds to come to a COMPLETELY different way of life and have to COMPLETELY relearn how to live! it was either we come here or we not only put our family in danger but our people and I know how much you hate my family and me being here but we don’t wanna be here either!”

Tears threatened to fall but you wouldn’t let yourself cry in front of him or at least you didn’t want to. He just stood there and stared at you if you hadn't known better you would’ve thought he cared for you.

You quickly sat on the sand clutching your knees to your chest clinging to yourself. “Do you think I find it fun to have to act like being here doesn't bother me? I’m the oldest I have to show my siblings that all of this is ok But it’s not, none of it is how could it be?”You asked looking at the boy with big doe eyes full of pain and anger. You place your head down and begin to sob “I just wanna go home I’m tired of being here this place isn’t home I wanna go home I just want to go home”. You said to yourself quietly sobbing. As much as you hated crying in front of others you just couldn’t hold it together anymore it was too much.

Aonung stood there awkwardly, surprised that he made you cry, not even cry practically break down completely. The way you looked at him. It pained him to see you so upset. He just couldn't understand why.

You hear movement assuming Aonung left out of awkwardness. That is until you feel arms wrap around you. You lift your head quickly and push the fish boy away standing up after. You look at each other shocked

“What the hell was that huh?” you asked him slightly flustered but mainly confused.

“One ouch Two have you never heard of a hug before it’s something people do to comfort others duh three you just... you seemed like you needed a hug you know?” He spits the last part out awkwardly.

Your face deadpans at the boy's lack of social skills. “Why would I want a hug from someone who for starters isn't my friend and is the reason I'm crying in the first place? It makes no sense for you to hug me.” You said matter of factly. Silence overcame you as you thought for a second before saying “But thank you I suppose that was kind of you” You once again sit down facing the ocean the moon's bright light reflecting off the water.

Aonung moves to sit to the side of you just staring at your features as the moon's light begins to shine on them. If we're being honest here Aonung feels bad still seeing the tears on your face. He wasn’t used to this he was used to you arguing back or yelling and pushing him to go away. The way you never backed down amused him. He found you interesting he felt a need to break your confident shell, and now that he did he regretted ever wanting to do so. “Look i- I’m sorry for what I did it was uncalled for truly,” the boy said head turned slightly flustered.

You turned your head around quickly your legs sprawling out. “Okay, why are you being so nice?” you ask raising an eyebrow at him. “DID YOU PUT SOMETHING ON ME?!” you reach your arms around to feel for something on your back frantically only for Aonung to grab your arms carefully pulling them toward himself. He let out a (very sexy) light chuckle before saying “As funny as that would be forest girl, no I didn’t put anything on you and I’m being nice because I get where you're coming from…kinda?”

You pulled your arms away from the boy. “How could you ever understand how I feel? You didn't have to pack up your life and leave your home. You didn't have to run away from who you are,” You told him pulling your legs back into you.

Aonung turns his head away from you staring off into the night sky the stars as bright as ever. “I might not understand that way but I understand what it’s like to always be under pressure you know being the oldest and all,” he says sincerely. Out of the sincerity in his soft words, you turn your head to look at him as his light-colored skin seems to shine with the night. ‘When did he get so fine?’ you quickly shook the Thought to continue listening to his words.

“Look y/n, to be honest, I don't care that you're here it's just…” he paused taking a deep breath and continuing. “The fact that I had to teach you and knowing that you all were running away from war was both irritating and scary. Being the oldest means I'm going to be the next olo’eyktan and I not only have lots of training and responsibilities I also have to care for my people. And having to take care of you all adding to my long list of responsibilities and worrying that the war you're all running from might come to my home annoyed me and angered me it… It scared me. And being mean to you all was just my sad attempt to not only run you all away but gain some power back the power that was taken away from me from forcefully becoming your teacher and no longer knowing that my people are completely safe.”

You looked at Aonung shocked. He sounded so mature. So caring. He sounded like less of an asshole and more like a true olo’eyktan someone that deeply cared for his people. It was comforting to know he wasn't as shallow as you thought. That there was more to him than just what you saw. Kinda like Home how even though the forest looks scary it's beautiful and simply misunderstood. Just like Home. Just like Aonung

“Hey, monkey girl you ok? Why you looking at me like that?” he said waving a hand in front of your face. You shook your head realizing you had been staring. “Yea I'm fine it’s just you sounded mature like a true chief and less like a bratty kid,” you said pushing him slightly and chuckling as you did so.

“Y’know you aren't so bad when you're being nice you should do it more often,” you told him “ya think so?” “yea I do” “Well even though you’re from the forest you are quite civilized and easy to talk to” you pause before joking “After all that progress” you giggle smiling at his joke “hey old habits die-hard y’know” He pauses.

“We should be friends,” He says after standing up and holding out a hand. “hmm I don’t know” you stay seated thinking of an answer. Aonung retracts his hand slowly letting it fall limp to his side. He squats down in front of you looking into your bright yellowish amber eyes with his light blue ones. “look I know we had a bad start but I do wanna be friends with you because you don’t seem all that bad and you are easy to talk to I feel oddly comfortable with you plus you’re not scared to put me in my place none of your family is in fact but you especially… so please at least gimme a chance to prove I’m not all bad.” he said standing straight reaching his arm out to you again.

You think for a moment. Were you gonna take the hand of the boy whose only mission since you and your family emerged here has been to run you all off? The boy who makes fun of your family. The boy who not only UNFAIRLY fought your brothers but ALSO almost got one killed. The boy who did all these things yet he gave you a familiar feeling. The feeling you haven't felt since the move. The feeling of home.

“Welp Im not leaving any time soon so might as well,” you say taking his hand. His hand is much bigger than yours given the metkayina’s adaptations to the water his hand completely engulfing yours. He lets out a laugh still holding your hand.

“Hey since we’re friends now you wanna go somewhere cool?” he asks excitedly. You pause for a second “I mean I’d love to but I don’t wanna get stranded in the middle of the ocean to be killed so I don’t know” you tease him. Aonung rubs the back of his next embarrassed “Yea sorry again for that but I promise on eywa I won’t and if I do may eywa bring my spirit to her immediately” he says seriously.

“Well with a promise like that, I guess I have to trust you plus I’m not going to sleep anytime soon might as well” you shrug. The two of you call your ilu’s over. Before we head underwater Aonung pipes up “Hey just make sure to keep up with me don’t wanna break my promise I’m too handsome to die tonight” he teased “Yea definitely too handsome” you roll your eyes.

With that, you and your ilu start to dive underwater making sure to splash Aonung as you do. Aonung quickly dives and races in front of you causing you to lose some balance but it is quickly regained.

You trail slightly behind Aonung as he leads you to this mysterious place. He stops abruptly and signs to go to the surface. “what’s wrong?” you ask “you need to take a really deep breath we’ll be underwater for a while and I would love it if you didn’t drown before we reached our Destination”. You roll your eyes at his playfulness.

As you go to take a breath Aonung comes beside you and places a hand on your lower stomach and chest. “Breathe from your stomach deep slows breaths you need to slow your heart rate if you don’t wanna die”.

You pray to eywa that he didn’t notice the spike in your heartbeat when he put his hands on you. But the light smirk ghosting his face says he did. “ now one last breath ok?” You take a deep breath and you both dive under.

Aonung was right when he said you’d be underwater for a while, it feels like you’ve been under for 5 minutes already. finally, there’s an opening and you both swim up.

after wiping off your face your eyes adjust. “Ok hold my hand and close your eyes no peaking” you grab his hand and think this is the same boy who insulted you every chance he got. Aonung leads you a few steps before letting your hand go “ok now open your eyes” You open your eyes and you are left speechless. A beautiful cave, with bioluminescent plants and creatures scattered across. It reminds you of the nights at home

Aonung nervous by your lack of words asks “So do ya like it?” you turn to him “I love it.” He laughs “I’m glad, I haven’t been here in a while it’s pretty cool right?” “It reminds me of the forest back home, so yea definitely cool,” You say eyes wandering taking in every part as if it’s not only the first but last time you’ll see this amazing place.

“Well, I’m glad you like it because this is officially our spot,” He says chest puffed out smirking. You said an eyebrow and smirk back “Our spot huh?” The boy nods his head. “I kinda like the sound of that,” you say laying down and becoming one with this moment of peace this feeling of home. You feel warmth beside you as Aonung began to lay next to you and everything feels content at this moment. Everything is in place. It feels like home.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Since that night the days have gone by fast all fading into one but you're not complaining. That beautiful cave truly was Aonung and yours. Only for the two of you. How easily you both could talk there. Words seemed to pour out of both of you as if they were crawling to be listened to by the other

Your urge to go home lessened did you still miss home yes of course but being here wasn't so bad. Maybe you've finally started to accept Awa'atlu as your home. Or maybe it wasn't Awa’atlu that you were accepting maybe it was…Him

Just like every other night, you ended up back at the beautiful cave. No matter how many times you’ve been there it never seemed to lose its hold on you. You didn’t expect aonung to be here tonight he seemed… distant? no busy? Nah maybe distracted? Either way, you both hadn’t hung out at the cave in around seven moons but you can’t be mad at him he’s the future olo’eyktan so he won’t ALWAYS be able to go off in the night.

Plus you had other friends to hang out with so when aonung was busy you’d hang out with them.

Yet there he was sitting there like always it seemed like he was waiting for you. It felt as if no matter what got in your way anymore you’d always find him waiting for you to come back to him and vice versa.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here why didn’t you tell me?” you asked playfully walking over to the boy. “Didn’t think you’d wanna come” he said standing up and shrugging. What had you done? I mean he’s the one that hasn’t been hanging out with you, yet your not mad so, why is he?

He starts to walk away from you. You quickly grab his hand “hey what's wrong you know you can't talk to me? We can always talk here.” “It's nothing” he replied harshly ripping his hand away from yours “well if it's affecting you like this it must be something”.

“It's just so stupid it doesn't even matter”He said plotting down on the cool cave ground.“Well it obviously matters to you so it matters to me”

“Do you still wanna go home?”

Your whole body froze. Why would he ask that? He always made sure not to bring it up he knew it was a sensitive topic yet he asked so bluntly. You’ve thought of home a lot but since you and aonung have gotten so close home seemed close not the faraway forest. Home felt

“ I don’t know why do you ask?” you said gently, squatting down on the ground.

“It’s just” he started sitting beside you. “I think about it a lot like what would happen if you could go home, would you? and if you did what would I do without you?” He turned towards you.

“You act like you haven’t been without me before it’s not like you’ll be alone if I left” “Yea I won’t be alone but I won’t have you what’s the point of anything if I can’t go back to you?” he said becoming aggravated. what does he mean what’s the point?

“Aonung what are you saying”. Aonung stood up abruptly “I’m saying I see you y/n and now that I do I can’t imagine seeing anyone else the way I see you but I can’t help but think one day you’ll go home and I’ll be alone and I won’t be able to see you ever again” he went quiet.

You didn’t know what to say. Would you go home? Would you really just leave him? What would YOU do without him? He was your best friend the best friend that you’ve grown to love and that you’ve grown to see in one way and another. That’s when you knew exactly what to say.

You cupped his face softly. “I see you aonung deep down I always have and I won't leave you I promise I won't and if I ever had the opportunity to go home it would lead me back to you. Do you wanna know why?”

Still shocked by your words he mutters out a soft “why?” “Because” You pull him into a kiss the salt water present however oddly sweet. You feel his hands wrap around your waist pulling you in keeping the kiss. You pull away slowly still cupping his face

“You’re My Home”

a/n:i hate this might delete it later 🤪🤞🏾 but i had to get it finished so i could finish the others anyways i take constructive criticism and feedback jus don’t be too mean 🤭😻

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avatarmerida · 1 year

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Um idk what to say about this except Hunter deserves to receive more compliments and Amity has never known how to process Willow’s taste in men

“Okay guys, just gimme like 10 minutes, okay?” Willow said, running eagerly ahead. “I just wanna check on my plants real quick. I’m sure they’re okay but I just wanna be totally sure because I-.”

“Go on, we’ll be fine!” Said Amity, seeing Willow was slowing herself down for their sake but desperately wanted to run ahead. Willow didn’t need to be told twice as she darted full speed up the stairs to her room. From the sound of it, her plants were just fine and delighted to see her. As they headed back to the Owl House, Willow’s house was on the way and when she had asked if they could make a quick pit stop Camila saw nothing wrong so long as they were quick and stayed together.

Hunter smiled at the distant sound of Willow happily greeting her plants as he looked around the living room, suddenly aware that it looked stuck in time. A few months ago it was brimming with life and light, and now it was dark and cold without Willow and her dads gracing the rooms with their love and laughter.

“Hey, what are these?” Hunter asked, turning to the dining room table which was covered in glossy brightly colored books.

“Oh, those are just some silly magazines Willow and I used to read when we’d do our homework,” said Amity as she walked in from the kitchen, the vibrant colors reminding her of a less chaotic time. “We would fill out the quizzes inside and gush about these bard coven bands and argue over who our favorite was.”

“Really? Heh.” Hunter flipped through the pages with a quizzical smirk, remembering Willow had once mentioned listening to a band once while they were messaging on penstagram back when they had first met. “Who was Willow’s favorite?”

“Take a guess.”

“Probably the most handsome one, right?” He said pointing to the obvious front man whose face was featured much more than the other members in the collection of mini posters that occupied the series of pages.

“Uh, not exactly,” said Amity, pointing to the corner to the “mysterious loner” of the group. His smile was more reserved than the others and his overall demeanor carried something... familiar.

“Him? Really?” Hunter chuckled, swearing he saw imprints of faded green lipstick stains near his photo. He wondered just how long they had been fading.

“I dunno, Willow has... unique taste.” Amity said with a shrug and slightly soured look. “We very rarely agree on things like that. I mean, she does not get Azura like at all, which just doesn’t make sense if I’m being honest, because I think...”

As Amity continued ranting, Hunter flipped through the pages and read the silly answers written in Willow’s bubbly handwriting, each ‘I’ dotted with a flower and the words twirling at the end as though they were carefully arranged vines. He treated her circled answers like a treasured artifact, admiring the little hearts and daisies she doodled in the corner of the pages. He also couldn’t help but want to take the silly quiz himself and see if their answers matched.

“...but I guess disagreeing can inspire debates. I mean, like the other day I was telling her how when I first met you I called you scrawny and that practically set her off because when she first met you she thought you were sooo cute, so obviously we don’t-.”

“She thought I was cute?” Hunter repeated, tuning back into Amity's rambling.

“Huh? Oh.” Amity’s hand sprang to her mouth, quickly realizing she should not have said that. “Uh maybe? Ya know, ha, it was so long ago, I might be misremembering. Actually, she might have been talking about a wet cat she saw on her way to school so actually-.”

“You just said you were talking about it yesterday.”

“Did I say that? You know, it was so long ago who can really remember what I said, we should-.”

“Amity, if you’re gonna make fun of me could you at least not use Willow? I don’t know why you’d think-.”

“I’m not making fun of you! I just, uh...” Amity insisted, quickly looking back at the staircase to make sure Willow wasn’t coming back yet. She changed her voice to a harsh whisper. “Ugh, okay listen, Willow would kill me if she knew I told you this but... do you remember before Halloween when I told you to change out of your costume?”

“Yeah?”

“She was actually really upset that I said that because she thought that you looked... handsome.”

Now THAT is a look

“Me?” Hunter asked as though there was someone else she could’ve been referring to.

DON’T listen to her.

“Yeah?” Amity replied, still unable to give a reason. “I mean, she was so mad at me for telling you to change, she threatened to summon a cactus to my bus seat before I sat down.” Amity laughed at the memory, knowing Willow was only a little serious about following through. “And she stared at the photo she took of you like the entire ride, like you were a magazine model or something.”

“She thought I looked... handsome? In my costume? Like the costume I’m wearing right now?”

“Shh! Yes, but you can’t tell her I told you,” said Amity, looking around paranoid. “I wouldn’t lie about that though, I promise.”

Hunter made his way into the living room, finding his reflection for the first time in a hall mirror. It was dusty but still he could see the difference from the last time he had seen his own face. There was a lot to process. Days ago he looked completely different and now it was though he had suddenly aged, he was tired and dirty and covered with scars.

“Do you think... she still thinks I look handsome in it?” He said, his hand tracing his newest scar. “Ya know, with how... different I look?”

“Well,” Amity started, knowing there was more within the inquiry. “She also talked about how much she liked you, ya know? The way you talk, what you talk about-

“She never mentioned my voice being... annoying?”

“No, actually,” Amity said, realizing Willow was probably the only person she had never heard refer to it in such a way, even as a joke. “Which is saying something because she used to always say that having bad eyesight made her hearing better,” Amity recalled. “I don’t know if that’s true or not but Even when you wore those hideous shoes with the holes all over them she still thought you were so cool... for some reason.”

Handsome AND cool? It seemed too good to be true.

“Does she... talk about me a lot?”

“Ya know, if you really wanna know what Willow thinks about you then you should ask her,” said Amity softly, putting her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “But don’t tell her you talked to me, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.”

“But has she said anything about... the way I look now?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting any more information from me!” said Amity dramatically, walking back to the kitchen table. “I’ve said too much already, if she ever found out that I said any of this I’d have more than a cactus to worry about.”

“But why wouldn’t she want me to know? Is she embarrassed?”

“Well I dunno, do you tell Willow you think she looks nice every time you think she looks nice?”

Hunter opened his mouth to offer a smug response before he realized that while he did in fact let Willow know she looked nice it was usually agreeing with someone. She would walk down to the basement to show off a new dress she had found while thrift shopping with Vee and wanted to show how nicely it complimented the cardigan Hunter had repaired for her and Hunter would be in awe of how she always managed to pick colors that brought out her eyes. He would think how lovely, how stunning, how utterly beautiful she looked but he never said these words.

Instead, Gus would usually deliver the compliment. He’d say “Wow, Willow you look great!” and then nudge Hunter in the ribs with his elbow as he’d raise an eyebrow and say “Doesn’t she Hunter?” Willow would look at him with anticipating eyes for his thoughts, but the sparkle that found her eyes with her expectations only increased the things to say, and Hunter would end up only being able to nod in agreement or mumble a simple “yes.”

Is that how he made Willow feel? How could he ever...?

“Fair point,” He cleared his throat and tried not to convey the journey his mind was on and hoping he seemed like he was totally normal about the question. “Thank you for your clarification, I shall keep the matter between us.”

“You’re not gonna act... weird about this are you?” Amity asked, fairly certain she already knew the answer.

“Me? Weird? No! W-w-why would I be weird about this?” Hunter sputtered nervously.

Oh, she definitely already knew the answer.

“Okay, well I hear her coming back so zip it,” ordered Amity. “If I wake up with a cactus in my sleeping bag, I’m taking you down with me, spaceman.”

Hunter wouldn't know how to bring it up even if he wanted to.

“Sorry it took so long,” said Willow, entering the room on a vine. “But they’re doing great, luckily the automatic water system I instilled has been working perfectly.”

“That’s great, Willow.” said Amity with a smile.

“Yeah that’s totally great!” agreed Hunter, his voice sounding panicked for no apparent reason. “Awesome! Cool! Yeah...”

“Yeah,” agreed Willow, confused by the room’s vibe. “But uh, we should probably get back to the others. I don’t want Camila to worry.”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” agreed Hunter.

“Oh, before I forget,” said Willow, pulling something off her wrist. “I found this yellow scrunchie in my room and I thought since your hair is longer again, you could use it to keep your hair out of your eyes.”

“Really?” he said, as she slipped the hair tie onto his wrist. “Thanks, Willow.”

“’Course,” she said with a smile. “It’s your color, after all. Plus we gotta make sure we can see that pretty face of yours.” She added with a wink.

“Haha yeah o-o-okay,” he said with a gulp. “I should uh, g-g-go check if the coast is clear.”

He ran ahead as Willow chucked to herself, clearly pleased with his reaction. She watched as he ran to the doorway and pulled his hair back into a ponytail and secured it with Willow’s scrunchie.

“Woah, did it just get hotter in here?” Willow whispered to Amity, a faint crimson gracing her cheeks as she watched fondly as he scanned the outside area, his pulled back hair making it easier for her to see his defined jawline. Before Amity could offer her comment on the change in temperature, Willow cut her off as she continued in a dreamy tone. “Never mind, I think it’s just Hunter. If ya know what I mean.” she added playfully, bumping Amity’s arm with her elbow.

“I really, reeeally don't,” groaned Amity as though she was in physical pain, having endured this talk for months in the human realm and now realizing that there was no end in sight. “You have got to stop saying things that to me I am begging you!” Amity pleaded.

“I’ll stop when he stops,” said Willow with a shrug, fanning herself with her hand for emphasis (half to upset Amity further and half because she was truly grateful she had found that scrunchie).

#huntlow #winter toh #willow park #hunter toh #toh #huntlow fanfiction #the owl house #amity blight

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