#but now it's like i switched back to reading my own story and i'm in constant fear of every chapter's end | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loudstan · 6 months ago

Text

You promised

Summary: Jisung unlocked a new fear: you leaving him.

Pairing: Werewolf Jisung X noona female reader

Warnings: smut, insecurities, jealousy, mentions of baby traping, switch Jisung, handcuffs, some angst (you know me)

Note: the first scene takes place during Chenle’s story, so if you haven’t read that one it may be confusing, but you don’t need it. And to my followers: thanks for waiting! This is just a short scenario to get back into writing and grammar/spelling wasn’t checked but oh what the hell, enjoy!

“A WHAT?!”

Jisung's usually deep and quiet voice turned into an uncharacteristic squeal as a response to what his best friend had just confessed. Any other day he would have immediately apologized to the other customers, who jumped and turned around, surprised at his sudden yell, but he was so scandalized that all he cared about right now was for Chenle to tell him he had misheard him.

“A memory loss spell…,” Chenle repeated, his eyes looking empty as he took another sip of beer.

“WHA–,” Jisung caught himself before he could scare everyone in the pub again and proceeded by lowering his voice. “But you two are mated!”

Chenle nodded slowly. “And we are so bad at it that our pack leader himself told us we were better off never seeing each other again. Forgetting the other ever exists.”

Jisung opened and closed his mouth dumbly before trying to come up with an alternative solution. “You guys j-just need some time and–”

“We've been together for months, Jisung. She…,” Chenle sighed and entangled his fingers in his hair with frustration. “She hates me…”

There was a moment of agonizing silence until Jisung's own eyes became watery when he heard a quiet sob coming from Chenle.

“But…” the younger one insisted. “It was so hard for you two to get together…you c-can't just forget everything…”

“Maybe it was hard because we weren't meant to be together,” Chenle said bitterly, still hiding his face behind his palms, like this would keep the other from finding out tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I literally forced her to stay with me and it still didn't work.”

Jisung’s hand hesitantly reached for one of Chenle's to uncover his face and meet his reddened, swollen eyes. “There has to be another way, Chenle.”

Chenle forced a weak smile. “Yeah? What would you do if your mate hated you so much she wanted to forget you and leave you behind?”

Jisung froze. His brain couldn't even phantom the idea of his mate leaving him. He had assumed once a wolf had bitten his partner they were bonded together forever. He had had a really hard time making you understand that he was serious about you and accepting him as a mate. But now he was finding out that not even the mark on your neck could secure you by his side.

“Why? Did she say something to you?” Jisung finally asked, tightening his grasp on Chenle’s wrist.

“No, why would your mate tell me–?” It was Chenle's turn to be confused. “She and I barely interact unless you're around. You know that.”

“Then why would you say that?” The younger wolf insisted, not letting go of the other.

“I was just asking what you would do if she wanted to leave–”

“She won't,” Jisung stated. “She fucking won't.”

“I'm not saying she will!” Chenle insisted, with a frustrated groan and forcing Jisung's fingers to let go of him. “I'm asking for advice! What would you do in this kind of situation?”

Jisung sat back and exhaled shakily, trying to get a grip. Right, you weren't actually leaving him. It was all hypothetical, because you would never ever do that to him. It was impossible, considering the way you looked at him with so much attention and adoration that he often forgot what he wanted to say and blushed like an idiot. Or the way you played with his hair when you cuddled. Or the way you stuttered whenever you paid close attention to his hands. Or the way your body arched when he touched you…

No, he was sure you would never do that to him. But if he ever found out you had such thoughts he would–

“Take her far away,” he murmured, still lost in his thoughts, and not even aware he was saying it out loud. “Somewhere no one else could find us. Just the two of us. And keep her there for as long as I have until she changes her mind. Make sure she needs me the way I need her. Baby trap her if I have to–”

“You're terrified of children,” Chenle pointed out, taking Jisung out of his trance.

JIsung blinked quickly and looked at Chenle with wide eyes. “Huh?”

“Being a dad scares you,” Chenle reminded him, arching his eyebrows inquisitively. “Yet you said you would… baby trap your mate?”

“B-baby–,” Jisung stuttered, blushing. “I didn't…I– did I?”

Chenle squinted at him, momentaneously forgetting about his own problem because something was clearly wrong with Jisung as well. “Are you having your rut anytime soon?”

“Yeah, I–this weekend probably, uh…yeah…”

“That's why you're saying weird things…” Chenle sighed. “You have the most possessive instinct I've ever seen in a werewolf.”

Jisung laughed awkwardly.

Chenle analyzed the younger man as he fidgeted on his chair. For a while now, he had been wondering if they were losing Jisung to his animal side because sometimes he did and said things that his introvert best friend would never.

Should he alert the others? Just in case?

His thoughts were interrupted by Jisung spilling beer all over his clothes and clumsily trying to clean up after himself. Chenle snorted and grabbed some tissues to help him.

What was he even thinking?

Jisung wasn't dangerous.

So Chenle pushed those thoughts away to focus on his own problems with his partner.

Jisung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about that stupid hypothetical scenario. He kept telling himself that things were fine, that you had shown no sign of wanting to end things and that he had nothing to worry about.

Until the moment his rut was due.

You both had planned to spend it together in your apartment, because he was too shy to do it at his place, with the rest of the pack around. He showed up with a backpack with clothes and some essentials, trembling hands, and a light blush on his cheeks. The implications of what he was here to do made him feel dirty, but at the same time he had been anticipating this all week. His rut hadn’t started yet, but he was already feeling a little feverish and weak, so you made sure to take good care of him by drying his hair after a shower, feeding him something light, and cuddling him to sleep.

You caressed his face gently as he inhaled and exhaled peacefully. He was adorable. It was hard to believe he had presented as an alpha.

You pressed your thighs together at the memories flooding your head. You were feeling a bit needy since the moment he had shown up at your door, but you knew it was better to let him rest during pre-rut, so you pulled away and got up, walking out of the room quietly.

Grabbing your phone and your wallet, you decided to go to a store nearby before it was too late, so you could buy some extra snacks. Last time Jisung had devoured everything he could find in your kitchen once he wasn’t feeling horny anymore, so it was better to be prepared. But as soon as you opened the front door, it was slammed closed by Jisung, who was towering over you from behind.

“Where are you going?” his raspy deep voice asked, panting next to your ear.

“I–,” You tried to turn around to face him but he growled, so you stayed still. “I was g-gonna buy us some snacks–”

“We have plenty,” he said curtly. “You checked earlier.”

“We could get some more, you know, just in case?”

“In case of what?”

“In case you need more food? You’re a big boy and–”

“Man.”

Right, he hated you calling him that. “You’re a grown man,” you rephrased, stressing the word that seemed to be so important to him. “And you may get hungry.”

“Hungry?” he echoed, taking a step back to give you some space to turn around and look into your eyes. He didn’t seem to fully believe you.

“Yes. So don’t worry about it, and go back to bed, okay?” you said, pushing him lightly to guide him back to the bedroom.

But suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the room with him, locking the door behind him and leaning on it as if he was guarding it.

“You can’t,” he said, barely audibly.

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“You can’t leave me,” he clarified, speaking up slightly. “You s-said– you said you would spend my rut with me.”

“I–, it’s just the store…”

Lies.

“Lies,” Jisung repeated what the voice in his head told him.

“Wha– why would I lie about that?” you asked, cupping his face.

“You can’t forget me,” he pleaded.

“Forget you?”

“You regret this,” he rambles incoherently. “You regret us.”

“No!” you quickly reassured him, pressing your palm more firmly against his fevered cheeks. “Of course not! I love you.”

His gaze softened and he nosed your palm. “Promise?”

“I promise,” you whispered.

Jisung fought the voice in his head telling him that you’re deceiving him. That you’re waiting for him to lower his guard to sneak out and disappear forever.

With a pained groan he pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you urgently, hoping this would shut his wolf up. And it worked, for a moment, because he was very distracted by your tiny gasp and your fingertips grazing his nape.

But it came back quickly. As he walked you back to the bed and pushed you gently on it, his wolf insisted.

She’s playing dumb.

Jisung glared at you, but he didn’t see any malice in your flustered, confused, pretty face. He shook his head, as a way to tell his wolf that he was being stupid and got on top of you occupying himself by placing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

You’re a poor excuse of an alpha.

He growled, giving you goosebumps and wondering what had him so worked up.

You think she’ll stay with you, when you’ve barely presented?

She doesn’t actually see you as a man. You have to remind her all the time.

He sucked on your neck and dug his fingers into your waist.

“Jisungie…”

She’s leaving as soon as she finds out about the memory spell.

“Fuck,” he growled, and his fingertips were pressed a little bit too hard on your soft skin.

“Ji, hold on–” you winced, grabbing his hands and trying to soften his grip.

If you don’t do something, she’ll disappear.

“FUCK! I KNOW!” he exclaimed, grabbing your wrists and holding them above your head, catching you by surprise.

You look up at him with wide eyes, wondering what you have done to upset him. His furious expression switches to a remorseful one.

“I–uh…I wasn’t yelling at you, noona…”

“...Then who?” you barely whispered.

“Me…I mean, not me, but…that side of me,” he mumbled.

You gulp and try to free your hands, but his grip tightens. “What is that side of you saying?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, it’s dumb,” he said quickly.

“It’s not dumb if it makes you react like this,” you insist.

He keeps quiet, biting his lip. “Just…don’t go, kay?” he finally says.

You nod. “If we need more food I’ll just order some.”

“No, I don’t mean–,” he sighed. “Not just the store. I mean…in general.”

“Ji, I’m your girlfriend,” you rolled your eyes. “And I literally have your mark on my neck. Where would I go?”

“What if there was a way to leave me, even after being marked?”

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious, but he mistook your curiosity for eagerness.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asked with an accusatory tone.

“Oh my god, Jisung,” you laughed incredulously. “You are the one who brought it up! I just asked a question!”

“Don’t laugh at me, noona,” he warned you, but his voice broke.

At that moment you understood that his pre-rut was probably messing with his head and that he really thought you wanted to leave him.

“How can I prove it to you?” you asked him seriously. “What can I do?”

He licked his lips and his reddened eyes traveled from your face to your captive hands. “I don’t know if it would prove anything, but… it would make me feel…better.”

“Anything,” you encouraged him. “Just tell me what it is.”

“Okay, uh…I’m gonna– c-can you close your eyes?” he asked nervously. “And don’t move,” he added when he freed your hands.

You nodded and closed your eyes, trying to comply with his simple requests, knowing that he was in a very vulnerable state and needed as much reassurance as possible. You felt his presence gone when he got up, his hurried steps, the zipper of his backpack, and what sounded like him looking for something. Then, he hurried back, and you felt the warmth emanating from his body on top of yours, while something tickled your wrists and then, a sudden click sound made you snap your eyes open.

“Jisung?” you opened your eyes to see his hungry gaze fixated on your wrists, which you couldn’t move. You looked up to see both of your hands handcuffed to the bed frame, with a pink fluffy pair of cuffs adorning your wrists like bracelets. “Ji, what–”

“Haechan hyung gave these to me,” he said, sitting back to appreciate the view. “I know he was just trying to mess with me when he packed them in my bag, but…they ended up being useful…”

You laughed nervously. You had never had your movements restricted in this type of context, and Jisung being the one to do it was unexpected. “Ji, there’s no need for this. I told you I won’t go anywhere.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, touching the cuffs and grazing your forearm delicately. “Now you won’t.”

“Then how am I going to touch you?” you pouted, trying to reason with him.

He halted and frowned. He hadn’t considered that. He really liked you touching him, but was it safe to uncuff you now?

Absolutely not.

“Later,” he declared.

“Later when?”

He bit his lip. For him, later meant when your legs were trembling so much you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. “Later,” he repeated.

“Can I at least get a kiss, then?” you asked.

“...You want that?”

“Do I want to kiss my handsome boyfriend? Duh, of course, Ji!”

A timid smile formed on his lips. For a moment he forgot all the negative thoughts that had plagued his mind and all he saw was you, pliant under him, wanting him, loving him.

He leaned closer and placed a soft kiss on your lips, delighted at the way you immediately whined when he pulled away.

“Want more?”

You nodded and he kissed you again, licking your bottom lip suggestively only to pull away again when you parted your lips.

“Ji…”

“Hm?”

“More…”

He complied, kissing you slowly and sensually, occasionally pulling away only to hear you whine and press his lips on yours more urgently than before.

But of course his wolf wasn’t done tormenting him.

She’s trying to free herself.

His hands flew to your wrists to check that the cuffs hadn’t magically opened during your makeout session.

“What are you doing?” he asked agitatedly, as the insecurities started coming back.

“Kissing you?” you breathed out confusedly.

Distracting you.

“You keep pulling at the cuffs,” he said, looking at you like you with wide eyes, like you had betrayed him.

“I didn’t– I didn’t even notice, I–..I just wanted to feel you closer…”

You could tell by his conflicted expression that he didn’t believe it.

“Ji, don’t you trust me?”

His eyes widened and he withdrew his hands. “I…I trust you but…”

He stared at you, opening and closing his mouth dumbly. He trusted you. He loved you. But his stupid rut was making him dumb and his wolf kept telling him that you were still trying to distract him. Maybe it would shut up if he was the one distracting you instead.

Before you could ask him to explain what was wrong, he repositioned himself between your legs and took off your shorts swiftly.

You gasped and tried to close your legs out of reflex, but he held them open effortlessly by grabbing your knees, his eyes fixated on the wet patch on your panties.

“Ji?”

He let out a sound between a moan and a relieved sigh. You were turned on because of him. You weren’t lying when you said you wanted him. He caressed your mound with his fingertips, barely grazing the fabric, but it was enough to have your legs flinching.

Taste her.

Fuck yes, they finally agreed on something. He nodded quickly (to what, you didn’t know) and removed the tiny piece of clothing from you before diving in. He made out with your folds gently, adding his tongue to the formula encouraged by your moans.

“You’re so good at this, Jisungie…” you praised, lost in pleasure.

He moaned and humped the bed, sucking a bit harder.

“Ah!” you gasped, opening your legs wider for him. “Can tell you ate out a lot of girls…”

He shook his head absentmindedly, unconsciously creating a new pattern with his tongue that made you see stars.

“No?” you insisted. “Are you sure?”

His eyebrows furrowed, and he detached his lips from your center to look up at you, confused. Why were you talking about other girls? “What?”

“Just a thought…” you murmured, looking away, a little embarrassed. This was something that had bugged you since your first time with him, but you hadn’t been dating for long and there had been no chance to bring it up. He knew about your past with Jaehyun, but he never mentioned anything about his previous partners. It shouldn’t matter, but you were so curious…and maybe a bit insecure. Now you felt silly. “It’s nothing–”

“Tell me,” he commanded. His voice was soft, but firm.

You sighed. “Remember our first time together?”

He hummed and kissed your inner thigh. How could he forget?

“Well…you uh…acted like you knew exactly what to do…”

He blushed. “Oh…”

“Yep…” you nodded, waiting for him to admit to his promiscuous past.

“I just–I read online what girls like…” he hesitated. “I watched some videos too…I wasn’t too sure about what you would be into, so I just did whatever that felt right…”

“There’s no way that was the first time you gave someone head,” you said incredulously.

“It was…”

“You even made me sit on your face!”

He groaned, pressing his hips harder on the mattress at the memory. “Did you like it?”

“Y-yes, but…”

“It was so good…” he whispered, going back to flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh…” you arched your back and tried to remember what you were talking about.

“T-then…to the other girls, the ones before me–”

“There’s no one before you,” he said between licks.

“R-right, like a guy like you doesn’t–ah! d-doesn’t have girls lining up to suck you off…”

He paused and looked up at you again. “Noona, are you…jealous?”

You could feel your ears getting hot at the accusation and looked away.

“You are!” he exclaimed. He sounded relieved. Happy even.

She’s possessive of you too.

The sound of his laugh angered you a little, but you couldn’t think of a comeback with the way he suddenly sucked your clit into his mouth and moaned loudly.

“AH! F-fuck!” you moaned, fighting the cuffs uselessly.

He circled your clit with his tongue a few times before going down a little to circle your entrance. You squealed when his tongue entered you, drinking all you had to offer. His eyes rolled back when he felt you contracting around the slippery muscle, and he went deeper, rubbing his nose on your clit just enough to make you come with a gasp, releasing directly in his mouth.

He licked you clean softly until your legs were shaking, landing one last kiss on your hip and resting his head on your stomach before he spoke again. “You’re the only one I’ve done this with, noona.”

You breathed out shakily. “What about o-other things?”

“Went on a few dates when I was a teen. Nothing serious,” he admitted. “And there was this girl…she gave me a handjob a couple of years ago…”

You felt your stomach drop. Jealousy really was an ugly feeling. But you tried not to sound too disappointed. “Oh, that’s…nice…”

“I moaned your name,” he confessed.

“You WHAT?!”

“I had already imprinted on you,” he mumbled, drawing figures with his finger on your belly. “I was really horny but you wouldn’t even look at me. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try…maybe gain some experience…but it didn’t feel good and I uh– couldn’t cum until I thought about you and then–yeah…”

“...That’s it?”

“Well, she told everyone I was small down there after that incident, so not many girls tried to approach me. I didn’t want anyone else so it worked out great, I guess…” he murmured, kissing his way back to your center. “And then I finally got to make you mine…”was the last thing he said before he started eating you out again.

“Jisung! Hold on, w-wait–” you squirmed under him, because there was no way he was planning to keep going when you were still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

“Don’t move,” he groaned.

“I think one w-was enough–ah!”

“But you said I was good,” he reasoned, giving you a long lick.

“Y-you are, Ji, you’re s’ good b-but– Oh, my g-god!” you moaned when he gave your clit little kitten licks that added to the painful pleasure. “Jisung, Jisungie, please–”

He circled your thighs with his arms and sucked hard, chuckling when you screamed his name.

She’s perfect like this.

“Ji, p-please, please,” you mumbled, shaking like a leaf at the new orgasm approaching too fast, too strong, too much–”JISUNG! F–...Aaah!”

He hummed, approving of the embarrassing sound that escaped your lips as you came in record time because of him. He rutted the bed and his dick twitched at the thought of doing it again and again–

“Jisungie, no m-more…” you begged, tugging at the cuffs desperately.

He sighed and climbed up to grab your wrists. “Stop that,” he warned you. “I told you already: you can’t leave.”

“I’m not trying to leave,” you whined.

“Then stop squirming and let me make you feel good,” he said, trying to go down on you again only for you to quickly close your legs and turn to your side. “Noona!”

You shook your head and he growled, easily manhandling your legs open for him to fit between them once again.

“Enough,” he said, his voice sounding deeper, dangerous. His red eyes and his body temperature made it clear that his rut was about to start, and his alpha instinct was not happy with your behavior. “You’re my mate,” he reminded you, like you could ever forget that.

You nodded.

She’s yours.

“You’re mine,” he said, pinching the soft skin of your thigh.

“Y-yes…,” you whimpered.

You can–

“--Taste you as many times as I want,” he declared, starting to lower his head again.

“BUT–But I want to taste you too,” you said quickly.

Jisung visually malfunctioned, halting his movement and looking at you with wide eyes, then frowning like he thought you may be deceiving him.

“Please, Ji, don’t you want my mouth?”

He could feel the precum staining his pajama pants. “Noona’s mouth?”

Instead of replying, you parted your lips, opening wide and sticking your tongue out slightly, all while maintaining eye contact with him and being cuffed to the bed. No video online had prepared Jisung for such a view.

He had never moved so fast in his life, straddling your chest and pulling the elastic of his pants down just enough for his erection to pop out.

“Want it,” he panted, placing his hips closer to your face. When he felt the first lick on the tip he moaned loudly, grabbing onto the very same bed frame you were cuffed to for support. “Yes, noona, please– Oh!”

You circled the head with your tongue playfully before bobbing your head slightly, loving the way his abdomen contracted and his head fell back in pleasure.

“I love your mouth so much, noona–” he rambled, trying his best (and failing miserably) not to thrust his hips into the delicious warmth.”C-can you take some more?? Just a little–Ooohh yes, yes–Ah!”

You felt a little bad for all those girls who blindly believed he had a small dick and avoided him in the past, because they clearly missed out, but at the same time you were thankful that only you could see him like this. You had never been too possessive but for him… you obviously were.

He lowered his hips even more, caging you under him and starting to fuck into your mouth. “I’m gonna—just ah…just like this– you don’t mind, yeah, noona?”

You moaned, making his legs tremble due to the pleasurable vibrations. “Fuuuck,” he groaned, grabbing your hair with one of his hands to keep you in place as he went faster, deeper. “Yeah, noona, like t-that ah, ah, haa…” he let out a whimper when you gagged.

It felt so good he just had to use his other hand too, now grabbing your head with both of them to bring you impossibly closer. You choked and teared up when your nose touched his navel, and nothing could describe the bliss that took over him, finally cumming down your throat with a deep groan.

“Oh–Ooohhh, f-fuck…”

You coughed and whined when he finally let go of your head, trying to calm down the burning sensation in your throat. Once the tears subsided and you were able to focus again, you noticed that your boyfriend’s hard cock was still on your face, as he jerked off furiously.

“Haa, haa…” he panted heavily, getting off at the beautiful sight under him.

“Jisung–” you were interrupted by your own gasp at the drops landing on your face.

“Aaah!” he moaned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch his cum paint your face. “Pretty, s-so pretty…” he sighed, finally slowing down to a stop and climbing off you…and going straight back to eating you out.

“NO!” You shrieked, squirming and kicking.

“You’re wet again,” he pointed out, not bothered by your aimless kicks, still licking your folds.

“Of course I’m wet! I’m with you,” you tried to defend yourself.

He let out a soft moan. “You can’t say something like that and not expect me to pleasure you until you go numb.”

“I want you to fuck me!” you whined, making him malfunction for the second time in a day.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, boring his eyes into you.

“Please, alpha,fuck me–”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Actually, you couldn’t even finish the sentence before he was sitting up and sliding into you, causing you to let out a broken moan. It had been a couple of weeks since you last had him inside of you like this. Not because you weren’t horny, but because he insisted on letting you rest as much as possible before his rut to avoid hurting you. But what he achieved instead was to make both of you lose your minds as soon as he entered you.

“Haa…” he let out a shaky breath, pulling out and pushing back in weakly, fighting the dizziness that took over his body.

You tugged again, desperately wanting to touch him. “Ji, take these off,” you begged.

He shook his head. “I like you like this,” he admitted, fucking into you again.

You whined. “I want them off!” you insisted.

“And I want to keep you tied to the bed forever,” he whispered, drunk in pleasure and lust, accelerating the movement of his hips to have you moaning weakly. “Pumping you full again, a-and again–Mmh…waking you up with m-my tongue that y-you like aah…you like s’much…”

You curled your legs around his waist, bringing your bodies closer together and he sobbed.

“N-noona…Close–” he admitted, embarrassed. There was something so arousing about having you so vulnerable under him, with no choice but to take everything he gave you.

Pups.

He gasped and stilled his hips, much to your dismay. You tried to move under him, tried to make him hit that spot again, but he quickly grabbed your hips too and kept them in place.

“One s-second, noona…” he said with a pained tone.

“It’s okay, Ji, I’m close too,” you assured him, not knowing what the real problem was.

“That’s not–”

Give her your pups.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered, looking at your belly.

Now, before she tries to leave again.

He quickly looked at your wrists which already had some marks due to the chaffing of the cuffs, and then back at your stomach.

“Jisung?” you asked nervously. Something was off with him since he arrived. He looked like he was constantly fighting something, but what?

He finally looked into your eyes, and his were clouded with tears.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“Do your wrists hurt?” he asked back, his voice barely audible.

“Oh,” you had forgotten about it for a minute. “Just a little,” you admitted. “But if it makes you feel more at ease…”

As soon as you said you felt pain, even if it was just a little, he reached for the key on the nightstand and unlocked the handcuffs. He waited anxiously for your next move, but you immediately grabbed onto him, pulling his upper body towards you and hugging him tightly.

You felt him sigh on your neck and pepper it with kisses. “You’re staying?”

“Of course I am,” you said. “Do you trust me?” you asked once again.

He nodded.

“Then I want you to relax and let me do something, okay?”

He nodded again, but he tensed when he felt you push against his chest.

“It’s okay,” you assured him.

He slowly relaxed and let you move, and in a few seconds you had him on his back with you on top, his hard cock still pulsating inside of you. With wild eyes, he moaned softly at the sight. Having you under him was hot, but you on top was crazy. He didn’t think he could choose. His hands immediately held onto your waist as you started bouncing on his cock hard and fast. If he was close before, he was going to explode now.

Cum inside.

He whined, but he didn’t have the strength nor the will to stop you. Instead, he thrust up into you, trying to ignore his wolf’s words. He looked up at you, eyes full of doubt.

“Wanna cum inside, baby boy?” you purred, feeling your climax approach again.

Yesyesyesyes…

His mouth opened into a silent moan, and he nodded.

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss, moaning as he held you in place to take his thrusts.

Fuck her until it takes.

He shook his head. “Noona’s on the pill,” he mumbled against your lips, licking your lips and swallowing your moans while saying (what you thought were) incoherent words. “‘s okay, it;s okay it’s…It’s s-safe…”

“That’s what’s been bothering you?” you laughed softly, kissing his cheek lovingly. “It’s not the first t-time we do this, y-you know it’s safe–AH!”

It wasn’t the first time you slept together, but it was the first time his wolf asked asked for pups and Jisung was freaking out because now was a terrible moment to be a dad but —

“Noona, noona, noona–oh, oh, oh–OOOHH!”

He let go, and his knot finally started forming, keeping you both in place while he filled you with his seed, and his wolf purred with delight. You rutted against his pelvis a couple of times until your own body trembled with pleasure, collapsing on top of him and into his arms. He held you tightly and let you rest for a bit. After all, this had just been his pre-rut. You both needed to rest before the actual rut started.

Pups…

He nodded, smiling dumbly and allowing himself to enjoy this fantasy only this time.

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #jisung smut #park jisung x reader #park jisung smut #nct jisung #park jisung

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kaciebello · 1 year ago

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Band-aids of death

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347

Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.

After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.

“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.

“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers.

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him. Before he can answer she continues,

“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.

“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.

“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.

“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly.

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.

“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something.

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.

“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?” Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.

“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple.

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”

“ Australia?”

“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid.

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.

“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

“ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series

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lovegasmic · 1 year ago

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Making satoru squirt and him making fem reader squirt. I'm dying for some switch content

⭒ mdni. mutual overstimulation, whiney Satoru my beloved. ( i had to pause writing at least 5 times to scream in my pillow ) please read the first two tags lmao

“b-baby, p-plea-se, I can’t, not anymore, a-ah!” Satoru sobs quite loudly to be honest, his eyes are glossy and filled with tears, the rim of them slightly reddened and matching the color of his bitten lips from endless hours of overstimulation. you’ve probably sucked the strength out of him through his dick, since his hands weakly push against your forehead in a failed attempt to keep you away from his throbbing length, “j-just pull it out, ah-a!”

“how many so far?” you giggle, pulling his cock out between your lips with a loud pop and getting in return a grateful sigh out of your boyfriend, one that doesn’t last long as your palm comes to rub circular motions on his tip, smearing the remaining cum all over the swollen flesh.

“d-dunno... ngh! haa, it’s too much!” he chokes on his own sobs, arching against the couch backrest so his heaving chest glistens with sweat under the living room lightbulb, his thighs squeeze your sides tightly, kicking and fighting the intense mixture of pain and pleasure running through his flustered pale body from the tip of his cock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend so worked up and overstimulated, all whiney —more than usual if you had to admit— but he looked absolutely cute begging for mercy.

“just one more, c’mon, and i’ll let you go” you smirk pressing your lips to the underside of his messy cock, feeling the veins throb under your tongue and palm warm up from where it continues to rub on his tip.

“n-no! stop please, feels weird!” Satoru begs, his body curving so he hovers over your body, so close to your face you’re able to watch his eyes open wide in shock, panting loudly and holding onto your hair for support barely seconds away from half screaming and shooting a translucent and diluted cum-like liquid in hard jets that landed on your face and the floor.

“wha—” you mutter back, staring in surprise at how your boyfriend’s body flops back against the couch, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon, “Satoru... did you just squirt? ” it comes out as a giggle, still dumbfounded from what just happened.

he doesn’t reply, and you’re a bit worried that he might have fainted, deciding to sit on his lap and observe his unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“Toru?” you softly slap his cheek, biting back a grin “are you dead?”

your boyfriend is a box of surprises, that’s for sure, but something that never failed to amaze you, even though you’re well aware of, is his incredible strength and stamina, yes, he might look all brain fried right now, but you should have expected for him to flip you over in the blink of an eye, pushing you underneath his body and spread on the couch with one leg over the backrest and the other bent so far it almost touched your ear.

“i told you to stop” Satoru growls, hands hooking under your thighs, positively bending you in half with his fattening cock dangerously close to your dripping cunt.

you laugh breathlessly, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes and slicking it back to watch how his bright blue eyes are now slightly darkened and almost disappearing around his blown out pupils, “please..., that was so fucking hot”

“we’ll see if you say the same after I make you squirt and beg” his voice is erratic, deeper and a bit dangerous, barely giving you time to process his words before he’s plunging deep into your pussy with a broken moan, he might act all dominant now, but the way his thighs shook and cock twitch told another story.

“don’t exaggerate! it wasn’t t-that ba-ah!” you get to mutter, cut by Satoru’s hard and precise thrusts inside your sopping wet cunt, moving in frenzy while choked out sobs came out of his mouth, drunk in the feeling of your tight hole squeezing him.

“so good, oh my fucking god!” your boyfriend moans, caging your body underneath his by pressing almost his whole weight on top of you, allowing only his hips to fuck into you with a loud wet sound from where his balls slam against your slick coated ass, barely rising before he’s back deep inside your walls, continuously slamming directly against your g-spot.

“S-satoru, i’m sorry alright, b-but please! slow down!” you cry out, begs falling on deaf ears as the man thrusts never falter, continuously driving you insane, and himself into the border of crying from fucking his overstimulated sensitive cock inside your pretty pussy.

“ah, ah! i’m gonna cum again” he sobs, ignoring your screams and nails digging on his back, and instead wrapping his arms around your thighs, bending you in half as he mounted you with whines and whimpers coming out of his lips, “uh, feels amazing, i’m going insane” is the last thing Satoru says before digging his teeth in your neck and cumming drily inside your pussy, the position causing his cock to bump and twitch directly against your g-spot and forcing your own orgasm out.

a loud beep rang in your ears at the same time your eyes clouded, unaware of the force of your own squirt gushing out and dropping from Satoru’s toned chest and flushed cock, you couldn’t hear a sound, but were certain you screamed quite loudly, only a couple of minutes after, once he knew you were a bit more lucid Satoru dared exhale a soft “payback” directly against your ear.

#i had to do research 🤓☝️ it was so fun #apparently a man can squ*rt w both stimulation in the tip and stimulation the prost*te mhm use this information like you wish to 😎#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk gojo smut #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #lovegasmic writes satoru

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 1 month ago

Text

No One Here Is Alone

Elks Chapter 2

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: Two evenings spent painting, two evenings with Joel Miller cooking dinner for you, two evenings of him gazing at you in that certain way, and one walk home together under a shared umbrella. Chapter Warnings: FIX IT FIC ALERT, pov switching (joel is in bold), soft jackson joel, romance, rumors still spread in the apocalypse, domestic joel miller making dinner, thigh paint, knee pillow, interrupted tender moment, cat on window sill, there was only one umbrella, early 2000’s indie rock, reader has a backstory Words: 6,800

A/N: I'm so happy to be sharing this story again. My fanfic journey started with these two and I'm happy to be adding so much more to their story. Listen, IDK what you're expecting, but this Joel is soft and this whole fic is written like one big, comforting hug. If you're reading it, please line up for your hug. (I am a cold, Scottish lass who does not like touch sooooo if you get a hug from me, you've earned it.) Thank you to @devineconjuring for all of her brilliant beta work.

Elks Masterlist Masterlist Playlist Chapter Song: “Infinite Arms" by Band of Horses

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel feels a strange feeling as he straightens up his workshop. He made sure to hide the carving he’s currently working on in the cabinet, as if anybody could even tell what the final product will be. Still, Joel Miller believes in caution.

He brushes his calloused hand across the workbench, sweeping wood shavings to the floor. He still sometimes forgets to grab the dustpan when he sweeps the floor–he still can’t believe he owns one in the apocalypse.

Just last year, he would’ve scoffed at the idea of having a workshop, of creating rather than surviving. Back then, his hands were tools for different work. Weapons. Means to an end. Now, they shape wood into delicate sculptures, finding beauty from a blank canvas.

He grabs the broom and dustpan out of the closet, sweeping up the pile of wood shavings and dust, trying to make the room perfect for you. He dumps the shavings into a small metal bin–they’ll later be used as kindling.

He leans against the workbench, looking around the workshop Tommy helped him build and equip. He still isn’t used to it—this strange semblance of a normal life.

He hears the familiar slam of the front door and walks out of the room, broom and dustpan in hand, finding Ellie kicking her boots off.

“Hey,” she smiles, dropping her backpack to the floor and removing her jacket. “Heard you’ll have company tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “My teacher of all people!” she gasps.

“S’not like that,” Joel responds.

“Whatever,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes with a wide smile. “Then why is your hair slicked back like that? You never slick back your hair.”

He runs a hand through his hair, feeling oddly self-conscious under the teenager’s gaze. "Just… wanted a change.”

"Sure. And I suppose you just felt like sweeping your workshop on a random Monday afternoon?”

Joel lets out a heavy sigh and makes his way to the kitchen. “Pick up your jacket and backpack.”

“Eh, I’m heading to Dina’s soon; I’ll grab them on the way out.”

He pauses mid-stride, turning back to face her. “You didn’t ask if you could go to Dina’s.”

“Nope, but I also don’t think you want my watchful eyes around while Teach is here.”

She’s got a point, and Joel knows it. There's no way he can afford to give Ellie any more reasons to make fun of him, especially not today.

—-

It's a beautiful Monday evening, a light breeze rolling off the mountains as the sun sets behind it. Joel’s house looks like it’s glowing under the aureate sky as you make your way up the path. You’re getting around much better now since your knees have started healing.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself before giving Joel’s front door three quick knocks. You clutch your messenger bag tightly, nervously bouncing back and forth on your heels.

The door swings open, revealing Joel with a warm smile. “Hi, come on in.”

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your smile under control.

"Let me show you the room."

Joel leads you into his home to a makeshift studio just off the living room. The space takes your breath away–it’s filled with an array of finished woodworkings, half-carved animals, shelves of tools, and a long worktable. You'd never expect it, but Joel is an artist.

It’s so open and warm, lived in and utilized. You're happy places like this can still exist in other people's homes.

The sight of a few guitars leaning against the wall surprises you.

“You play guitar?” you ask.

He nods. “Been playing almost my whole life. You?”

“Same, but my guitar broke a few weeks ago,” you say with a hint of sadness. “There’s a big hole in the side now.”

“That’s rough. Your stereo and your guitar?”

It surprises you a bit that Joel’s remembered about your stereo.

“Afraid so,” you admit. “It’s very quiet in my home.”

“Those guitars over there are broken, but I just haven’t gotten around to fixing ‘em. I’m sure I could easily repair one for you,” he offers.

“Joel, you—that’s incredibly kind,” you reply, touched but hesitant. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“No, s’okay, I like fixing things,” he insists with a reassuring smile.

“Wish I could fix things,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “By the time I would be done, it’d be a pile of sawdust.”

A huff of air releases out of Joel’s mouth, his smile making a dimple you’ve never noticed before appear. God, he’s gorgeous. “You’re funny. I can see why Ellie likes you.”

Heat creeps up your chest and settles into your cheeks. The way he looks at you overwhelms you so much you have to glance away. “So, Where would you like me to draw the mural?” you ask, using your question to cut through the nervousness inside you.

“Was thinking over on this wall with the window. I can see it from my chair in the living room.”

You turn to examine the large, empty wall. You’re not sure if the cream hue is the original paint color or if it was colored that way from age. Either way, it’s a perfect canvas.

“Good choice,” you say. “Do you want the whole wall?”

“The whole wall.”

“Just bluebells?” you clarify.

“Just bluebells.”

“Perfect.”

You pull the pencil from the chest pocket of your overalls, gently pressing it against the wall to sketch out the first bluebell. You can feel his eyes on you, his large body crowding the space behind you. You try to focus on your drawing, blocking out the sound of his breathing and the heat of his closeness.

Joel clears his throat. “I’ll just be in the kitchen making dinner. Did ya’ eat?”

“No,” you reply, glancing back at him. “But I can eat after I’m done here.”

“Have more than enough here for another person, and Ellie’s at Dina’s tonight. You like pasta?”

“Of course I do,” you say with a smile. “I’d starve if I didn’t. Shelf stable.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ll be in the kitchen cooking. Just holler if you need anything. Help yourself to any of the supplies I have here.”

You nod as Joel turns and strides down the hall.

—-

You’re just down the hall, clad in light blue overalls covered in paint stains. All he has to do is take the twelve small steps to the room, and he’d get to see your pretty face.

He makes himself focus, busying himself in the kitchen, stirring the boiling pasta so he doesn’t just stand silently in the hallway trying to hear the scratch of your pencil against the wall or the occasional approving “yes” under your breath when you’re happy with a line. It’s oddly comforting, having someone else fill the empty spaces of his home.

Boston never felt like a home, no matter the poorly realized strong feelings he had for Tess. It’s hard to make a home out of a dilapidated apartment where his lumpy mattress rested on cinderblocks.

Cooking in a large kitchen–with full cupboards and a fridge–still feels like he’s playing pretend. But he’s trying to get used to it. For Ellie… and maybe for himself.

He can just make out the soft sound of your humming. He doesn't recognize the tune, but it makes him smile nonetheless. He catches himself and straightens his face, feeling foolish.

Dinner will be ready soon, an idea lighting in his mind as he cuts two slices of bread from the loaf he just picked up this morning from the co-op.

—-

“What a beautiful face, I have found in this place, That is circling all ‘round the sun, What a beautiful dream...”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle as you hear the familiar strum of a guitar, breaking the silence that had settled in the room while you quietly sketched. For the last hour, the only noises were Joel’s movements in the kitchen and the soft sound of your pencil against the wall.

Now, his home is filled with the sound of the first song off of your mixed CD you had left there. Despite being all alone in his studio, you can’t help but grin. You tuck your pencil behind your ear and head to the kitchen.

You almost stop in your tracks at the sight–Joel’s biceps stretch the sleeves of his gray shirt as he lifts the pot and drains the cooked pasta. The steam floats into the air, swirling around him, creating an almost dreamlike scene of domestic bliss. You blink a few times, reaching for your daisy pendant to center yourself, helping yourself realize that this is, in fact, really happening.

It’s almost as if he senses your presence, turning his head to find you resting against the kitchen doorway.

“Neutral Milk Hotel,” you say.

“S’a pretty good song,” he replies, turning, his gaze landing on your pendant.

“From my CD?” you ask.

“It is.”

“Thanks for playing it,” you smile. “It’s nice to hear it again.”

“Course. When’d your player break?”

“A while ago. I lived without a stereo for close to fifteen years. My CDs sat in a crate next to my bed all those years. I got used to them existing almost like photographs, circular snapshots of memories… silent and incapable of their original use,” you say, your voice trailing off as you remember. “When I got here and walked into my house, the first thing I saw was the small boombox on the shelf. I almost passed out when Maria told me it worked.” Joel stands there, spoon in hand, his eyes fixed on you, not impatient, not bored, but rather a tender fascination as you speak. “It had to be repaired a few times, and Gordon kept warning me that it wasn’t built to last. Took it to him the day after it broke for good, and he let me know nothing could be done,” you sigh. “Sorry, I tend to ramble.”

You can feel the embarrassment creeping up your neck, but Joel just shakes his head.

"Don't apologize," he says gently. "I understand what it's like to lose something that connects you to… before."

“Thanks. I still have other things to fill my time, so it’s not as bad as I’m making it seem. I know it’s a luxury, and I know I can live without it. It’s just… the noise kept me company, you know?”

“I do,” he responds, tilting his head towards the table. “Dinner’s about ready.”

You sit down at his table by the window, the glow of the sunset streaming through, casting a soft light over everything. Coffee rings cover Joel’s wooden tabletop, a sign he probably never cleans up his mug until after he’s home in the evening. It feels so comfortable and warm here.

His back is turned as he dishes the pasta and sauce into two bowls, allowing you to take him in. You let yourself stare, memorizing the broadness of his shoulders and the bits of curly hair on the back of his neck. There's something so beautifully mundane about watching him move through his kitchen.

"Thank you," you say as he places one in front of you. "It smells amazing."

"Just pasta," he shrugs, sitting across from you.

“This looks delicious,” you say, picking up your fork.

“Sauce was made by Maria. She takes pity on my kitchen skills and makes sure Ellie and I are well-fed.”

“She’s great,” you say through a bite. “So is Tommy.”

He nods in agreement, watching you intently as if he’s captivated by your presence. You’d be doing the same if you weren’t so nervous about him noticing. You sense Joel doesn’t care if you notice him watching.

You both settle into a shared silence while you eat, your CD playing in the background.

A slow and haunting song begins to play, and Joel looks up from his meal. “This is my favorite song on your CD.”

“Cheer up, honey. I hope you can, There is something wrong with me, My mind is filled with silvery stars.”

“‘Radio Cure’ by Wilco,” you say. “One of my favorite bands. My only CD of theirs is so scratched it no longer works. This is the only song I have now.”

You get lost in the music, leaning back and mouthing the lyrics silently.

“S’beautiful,” he says softly as you open your eyes and find him watching you again. He clears his throat, “... the song’s beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat at the tenderness in his voice. So soft and deep. You wonder if he talks to anybody else this gently.

“If you like it, keep my CD,” you offer. “You’ll get more use out of it than I will now.”

“I’ll borrow it until you get a new CD player,” Joel says as he stands and takes his bowl to the sink. “You’re welcome to come over and listen anytime. You can bring your other CDs over if you want.”

“Really? I appreciate that,” your voice lifts with excitement.

“Glad to help.”

“I’m going to get back to drawing before it gets any darker,” you say, handing him your empty bowl. “I really enjoyed dinner, thank you.”

“‘Course,” he nods, taking the bowl from your hand and depositing it into the soapy water.

You return to the woodworking room, pick up your pencil, and continue delicately sketching flowers on his wall.

—-

Joel’s house is quiet again once your CD has finished playing. You’re too focused on drawing to really miss it.

“Did you want another light in here?” Joel’s voice startles you, making you jolt and turn to find him leaning against the doorway; you don’t know how long he’s been standing there. “S’getting dark in here.”

“Y-yeah, that would be great. I just want to finish up the first outline tonight.”

Joel nods and heads over to the large cabinet in the corner, retrieving a work light.

“This’ll help,” he says, grunting slightly as he bends over and plugs it in.

The bright light floods the room; now, you can see every delicate line you’ve sketched across the wall.

“Thank you,” you say, blinking your eyes to adjust.

“It’s lookin’ really nice so far.” Joel’s voice dips low, barely audible.

You begin to sketch again, thankful for the extra light. “I love the process of beginning a large piece like this. It makes me so excited to think what it’ll look like when it’s all finished. Breaking it down into small steps, then seeing it all come together.”

“No wonder Ellie’s always so excited about art when you put it all that way.”

You nod without looking back at him, trying to hide the smile playing on your lips.

“Well, I’ll just be in the living room reading my book. Lemme know if I can help,” he offers.

“Thanks.”

Joel’s footsteps fade as he walks into the living room. You hear him settle into his chair with a sigh. The chair he can sit in and look at your mural from, the chair he can sit in and watch you work from. Your insides twist as you feel like you’re being watched by him. You like it.

You round each small petal, making every flower perfect for Joel’s eyes, the bluebells taking shape and spreading across the wall.

Sometimes, you hear a page turn, or an occasional sniff, or a throat clear. It feels odd to be this comfortable in Joel’s space. But, somehow, it feels familiar, the nerves dissipating with each bluebell you draw.

You step back from the wall, surveying the outline. You’re very happy with it.

“Okay,” you say, shaking out your overused hand and stretching your tired fingers.

“Finished for the night?” Joel asks as he stands and steps into the room. “It’s beautiful,” he says, his eyes lingering on the wall.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling a mix of pride and uncertainty. “There’s still a lot that has to be done, but I’m really happy with how it’s looking so far.” You back up to stand next to him, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. "When do you want me to come back?"

“I’ll be out on patrol with Tommy until Friday night. I know you have the library, but does Saturday work for you?”

“No, it’s okay, Saturday’s good. Same time?”

“Same time,” he confirms with a nod. “I’ll make dinner again.”

“You really don’t have to,” you reply, bending down to grab your bag.

“S’okay, I want to.”

“Okay,” you reply, stifling a yawn and blinking your tired eyes.

Joel notices and grins slightly, watching you. “Getting late for you, huh?”

“Yeah, close to my bedtime,” you admit.

He walks with you to his door and holds it open. "G’night. I'll see you on Saturday."

“Have a safe patrol,” you say as you step out the door, turning back to him with a small smile. “Goodnight.”

You feel Joel’s quiet, watchful gaze follow you as you leave his yard.

You crawl into bed that night without bothering to change out of your shirt. It smells like Joel’s home.

—-

He looks up at the sky, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. He’s far too used to his comfortable mattress in his home now. Tommy’s already asleep, softly snoring across from him as the low campfire crackles between them. Joel shifts, tucking his arm beneath his head as a makeshift pillow. Sleep won’t come easy tonight.

The Pink Moon sits high in the sky tonight, surrounded by innumerable stars. He wonders if you're looking at it right now, too, or if you’re already asleep, dreaming of bluebells.

"Damn," he mutters under his breath, running a hand down his face. When did he start thinking about you like this? Was it when you walked into the community hall the first day he arrived in Jackson? Or when Ellie wouldn't stop talking about her new teacher?

It’s only been three days, and he actually feels like he misses you.

Tommy stirs for a second before settling back into slumber. Joel watches his brother sleep, reminding him of the years they spent together in a far harsher reality.

In a few months, Tommy will be a father. The thought still amazes him. His little brother, the one who always believed in a better existence, is building something Joel never thought possible in this world–a family and a future.

He turns over, staring up at the sky, as he thinks of the wall in his woodworking room, now covered in delicate bluebells you’ll soon paint and bring to life.

—-

“Hey lady,” your friend Helen greets you as she steps into your classroom, interrupting your paper grading.

You look up and give her a smile. “What’s up?”

“A group of us are getting drinks tomorrow night at the Bison. You in?”

“Oh,” you pause, putting your pen down. “I can’t. I’m painting something for Joel Miller at his house.”

Her eyebrows rise. “Joel Miller, Joel Miller?”

“Yeah…” you nod.

She steps closer, crossing her arms with a smirk. “So, the rumors are true?”

“Rumors?” you ask.

“Grace said she saw you leaving his place late Monday night. Apparently, Joel stood and watched you walk home the whole way.”

You roll your eyes. “God, this place is small, isn’t it?”

Helen laughs, her expression softening as she moves closer. “He nice to you?” Her protective side always shows when it comes to you.

“I wouldn’t be doing this for him if he wasn’t.”

She nods. “Atta girl, I’ll leave you to it,” she knocks on your desk before leaving. You’ve heard all the rumors about Tommy Miller’s scary older brother. You’ve listened intently as people regaled tales of his violent past and whispered stories of his brutality. You heard the hush amongst the crowd whenever he’d walk into a room when he and Ellie first showed up. He’s supposedly a monster, and yet all you see are deep, soft brown eyes that crinkle at the corners whenever he smiles at you.

—-

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t exhausted after running the library today, and yet there’s still a sense of excitement as you walk down the road towards Joel’s house, shielding yourself and your box of paints beneath an umbrella.

Joel opens the door before you even get to the porch steps, his broad body backlit by the golden glow of his home.

"Hey there," he says with a small smile, stepping aside to let you in. "Nasty weather out there. Was lookin’ for you so you didn’t get stuck in the rain.”

You lose the fight to hide a smile at his sweetness. “Thanks, it’s awful out,” you reply, stepping inside and shrugging off your flannel. “How was patrol?”

“Same as usual,” he remarks, taking your jacket and hanging it on the hook over his coat.

“Well, that’s a good thing,” you reply, already heading into his woodworking room and placing your paints on the floor.

Joel follows right behind you, watching as you kneel and begin unpacking your supplies.

“That your CD book?” Joel nods to the faded black leather portfolio with tattered corners covered in faded stickers.

“Yeah, I brought it over.”

“Haven’t seen something like that in years. Can I look at ‘em?” “Go ahead,” you say with a warm smile, handing the album up to him. “Find something to play. It’s your stereo, after all. Don’t tell me what you pick. I want it to be a surprise.”

You love hearing the gentle, rhythmic thump of the pages as Joel flips through the album.

“Don’t recognize most of these names,” he murmurs. “What kind of music do you like?” you ask as you unroll your brush holder and pick out the brushes you’ll need.

“Rock, country… a little bit of blues.”

“Country? Really? How typical Texas of you,” you tease with a playful smile, raising an eyebrow. He chuckles. “Good country. Real country. Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, ’n the like.” “I stand corrected, Texas.”

He grunts in amusement while you begin laying out your paints on the countertop, carefully choosing your colors.

“Found something,” Joel says.

“Can’t wait to hear what you pick,” you respond, pulling your palette out of your bag as he leaves the room with the unknown CD in hand.

A bluesy rock guitar intro with a steady drumbeat starts as you mix emerald and olive tones together.

“Haven’t heard this one in over 20 years,” Joel comments as he comes back into the room. “I always liked The Rolling Stones.”

“Me too. I actually got this CD from your brother, believe it or not.”

Joel leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Tommy gave you that?"

"Yeah, last year. He brought it back from patrol. He figured I’d want it, and he was right. Maria and Tommy have both been great to me.”

Joel stands there watching you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Tommy's always had a good heart."

"It runs in the family," you mutter, regretting the words the moment they leave your lips. With a slight shake of your head, you look back down at your palette and dip your brush into the green paint, making a few strokes on the palette before turning to face the wall.

You kneel down on the hardwood floor and begin to trace the slim lines of stems across the wall. Your brush and body move slowly and smoothly in tandem, rising to finish each stem tip. Joel’s steady and attentive gaze follows you the whole time.

“Never thought I’d see somebody paint like this again,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s my favorite thing to do,” you say, your focus unwavering from the wall.

“Can tell,” the gentleness of his voice causes a shiver down your spine. “M’excited to see how it’ll look when it’s done.”

“Me too.”

You hear Joel take a deep breath, and his footsteps shift. “I’m gonna go finish cleanin’ my guns,” he says with an exhale. “I’ll be in the dining room if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” you respond, turning to look back at him with a smile. Suddenly, a large glob of green paint falls from the paintbrush in your hand, landing on your thigh.

Joel’s eyes immediately drop to the spot, widening as you grab your rag and wipe the paint off.

He clears his throat, his cheeks starting to blush a subtle shade of red. “Uh, right. I’ll be in the dining room,” he repeats, turning quickly to stride away.

His hurried footsteps fade as they move into the next room– a small smile tugs at your lips, and a rush of excitement blooms within you.

You dip your brush back into the paint again, steadying your breath, and begin painting a new stem. —-

Joel has cleaned this Winchester hundreds of times. He could practically do it with his eyes closed, yet tonight, his hands fumble with the bolt carrier.

He's spent twenty minutes on a five-minute job because he can’t stop thinking about you. The way your hands move across his wall, the confidence in your art, the slight furrow in your brow when you're concentrating, the beautiful green paint on your beautiful skin.

He sets down the cleaning rod with a soft sigh, his calloused fingers tapping against the wooden table. If he cranes his neck just right, he can see the edge of you through the doorway. The Rolling Stones still play quietly in the background, and Joel notices how your body sometimes sways slightly along to the song.

Five days on patrol shouldn't have felt so long. It was the same route he'd taken dozens of times with Tommy, the same checkpoints, the same abandoned buildings. But for the first time, he wanted to go back home. To Jackson. To you.

—-

The rain patters steadily against the windows as you work. It almost feels too comfortable being in Joel’s home, painting as the CD softly plays in the other room, the occasional clink of metal coming from down the hall.

"S'pretty dark in here. Do you want that work light again?” Joel asks, interrupting your focus.

“Yes, please,” you reply, not taking your eyes off the delicate petal you’re working on.

Joel shuffles behind you, pulling the light out. You recognize the same low grunt that left his mouth earlier this week when he bends over to plug it in. The light buzzes on, flooding the room and your painting with a bright white glow.

“You been kneeling on the floor like that for long?” he asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yep, it’s not so bad while down here.”

“Ya’ still have the hurt knees, and you’re kneeling on the damn hardwood floor,” he mumbles under his breath as he leaves the room.

You’ve gotten used to people not being concerned about such simple things as your personal comfort. Joel’s worry for you makes you feel a foreign feeling.

He returns and holds a pillow out for you. “Here, grabbed ya’ this.”

“Oh, I’m okay, really,” you protest, “I don’t want to accidentally get paint on it.”

“Don’t care, take it,” he insists.

You hesitate for a second before taking the pillow and slipping it underneath your already aching knees.

“Feels much better, thank you,” you say, settling back and forth on the softness.

“Welcome.”

A long sigh escapes his lips, catching your attention. You glance up and meet his eyes—the hazel flecks shine in the light supplied by the work lamp.

His tongue darts out to wet his supple lips, and your eyes move to watch. He reaches a hand out, his thumb resting against your cheek, his fingers gently cradling your chin.

Your breath hitches, your lips parting as you inhale deeply, and a shiver runs through your entire body. The music from the stereo fades into the background; all that exists now in this moment is Joel’s touch.

“Thank you again for doin’ this for me,” he says, his voice low and tender. “Been thinkin’ about how nice it’s gonna be to look over and see this once it’s finished… reminding me of home.”

“O-of course,” you stammer, your eyes still lingering on his mouth.

“Mm,” he grunts, his head dipping with a slight nod.

“L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L–” The music stutters, caught in a loop, cutting through the moment.

“Shit, I forgot this song always does that,” you say as Joel’s hand retreats from your cheek.

“I got it,” he says, quickly striding out of the room.

“You just have to skip to the next track, and it should work!” you call after him as your skin still tingles from where his hand had been moments ago, silently cursing your scratched CD.

The track changes, the interruption long gone, just like Joel’s touch. You return to painting, calming your body and emotions in the aftermath. You exhale slowly, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in your chest, grounding yourself back into the rhythm of painting. You don’t hear from him until well after the CD finishes and the house has fallen silent.

—-

“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Joel says, tapping softly on the doorframe, snapping you out of your reverie as you paint. “You got a lot done—it’s lookin’ real good.”

You glance over your shoulder at him, surprised by how much time has passed. The shared moment between the two of you now feels long gone and distant.

“Thanks,” you respond. “I just want to finish up on this bluebell.”

“Take your time. Just come to the kitchen when you’re all done in here.”

—-

He stares at the table, his hands resting against his hips. He doesn’t know why he wants to impress you. He’s never been one for setting a proper table, but tonight, he’s even folded the tattered cloth napkins.

There’s something about you–something that makes him feel like the world isn’t as broken as he knows it to be.

He watches the steam rise from the pot of soup he’s made, almost feeling nervous. He wants you to like it. He wants you to like him.

—-

You stand up, stretching your back to ease the stiffness, rinsing your brush in the jar of water before making your way down the hall to the kitchen. Your steps almost falter at the sight–Joel Miller sitting at his neatly set kitchen table. A soup spoon rests atop a folded napkin, a glass of water lined up next to it. He’s even taken the time to wipe up the coffee stains.

“Hope you like turkey and barley soup,” Joel says as you walk into the kitchen.

“Any soup makes me happy,” you reply with a smile, taking a seat across from him.

“Good. This one I actually made; Maria didn’t have to take pity on me for this meal,” he says, a small grin lifting his lips.

The care he’s put into a simple dinner doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re touched. The soup looks delicious, steam rising from the ceramic bowl.

You take a bite, the warm soup sliding down your throat. Perfect for a chilly rainy evening, it’s good. “Joel, this is… really good.”

His eyes soften when he sends you a nod.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence, with only the sound of your spoons clinking against the bowls. You should be nervous in this situation, but the way Joel handles himself in front of you–as if he’s perfectly comfortable with you in his home–makes your nerves settle.

"Thanks for dinner," you say, watching Joel finish his last spoonful. "It was exactly what I needed after painting for so long."

You place your spoon down and sit back in your chair. “What was your favorite food before… everything?”

He thinks for a moment. “Don’t really know. Maybe tamales? My mom used to make them every year for the holidays. I could eat six of them in one sitting.”

“I loved tamales, too. You know, I just remembered margaritas. I used to always see people drink them when we’d go out to eat Mexican food, and I thought that looked so cool. I never got to try one.”

He watches you with that familiar expression, as if he could listen to you talk for hours, nodding along with a small smile. “What was your favorite food?” he asks.

“Fettuccine Alfredo, one hundred percent. My mom used to make it for me every year for my birthday. If we went to an Italian restaurant, it’s what I’d always order. Definitely Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“Never had it, always just stuck to pouring a jar of Ragu over spaghetti or a frozen lasagna,” he says, a small grin on his face.

“I miss those too. And cheese. I miss being able to have cheese whenever I wanted so much. The stuff we have now just isn’t the same.”

“Mm,” Joel nods. “Kinda like the ice cream we have. Not the same, but good enough.”

“Isn’t that the motto of these times?” you say with a smirk. “Not the same, but good enough.”

“It’s a good one,” Joel pauses. “You’re funny.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling Joel’s eyes follow your movements as he gets up.

You stand as well, grabbing your bowl to follow Joel over to the sink. He reaches for it, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes it from your hand. “You seem to be almost finished in there.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can finish tonight. I think there’s still a couple more hours of work left.”

“Of course. I don’t want to keep you any longer tonight. I know you had a long day, and I know it’s a lot bein’ down on the floor like that for as long you were.”

“Yeah, my knees are aching again,” you admit with a shy smile. “When do you want me to come and finish it?”

“Monday at the same time, if you want. Sundays are always reserved for Ellie.”

"Monday works just fine," you reply, smiling at the idea of him reserving an entire day just for Ellie. "I can be here right after work. Is it okay if I leave my things in the room? If not, that’s okay too. I can take them ho–”

“S’fine,” he interrupts gently. He places his hand against your back. “Don’t mind at all. I’ll walk you home. It’s getting late, and it’s still rainin’ pretty bad.”

You protest. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ve walked through much worse.”

“Don’t care,” he cuts you off as he grabs your flannel from the hook. “I’m walking you home, it’s pourin’.”

He holds your flannel open for you and offers a slight nod. You step forward and slip your arms through the sleeves, the closeness sending goosebumps across your skin.

"Thanks," you lowly whisper.

“Course,” Joel breathes out as you step away and grab your backpack.

“You really don’t have to—“

“Now, stop telling me I don’t have to,” he says, mild frustration tinging his voice as he shrugs on his jacket. “I want to.”

He opens the door and motions you to go ahead of him before grabbing your umbrella.

“Don’t you have one as well?” you ask.

“Never got one.”

You step out, the rain pouring down in a steady stream. “It’s good for the crops and the water reserves, at least,” you shrug as Joel holds the umbrella above you.

As you two make your way down the road, you notice the rain pelting Joel, his head and shoulders already damp as he holds the umbrella over you.

“There’s enough room for both of us under here; there’s no sense in you getting soaked,” you say, stepping closer to him.

He mumbles something softly–it sounds like “Y’sweet,” but the rain drowns out his words. You almost think you imagined it. He adjusts the umbrella, moving it so both of you are shielded from the rain.

The two of you walk towards your home, your bodies occasionally tapping against each other as Joel huddles over you. You wish you could slow down, draw out your time next to him, stay under the shelter of the umbrella and his body.

“That’s me, right there,” you say, nodding towards your front door.

“Y’got a cat?” Joel asks when he sees your cat Penny sitting on your windowsill backlit by your lamp.

“Yeah, two of them. You like cats?”

“Even if I did, couldn’t have ‘em. Allergic.”

“That’s a shame,” you reply with a shrug.

“Hm,” he grunts with a subtle smile.

Escaping the rain underneath the safety of your front porch awning, Joel closes your umbrella and hands it back to you as you tap your wet boots against your frayed welcome mat.

“Well, thanks for walking me home. I’ll see you Monday?” You say as you rest your back against your front door.

“Yeah,” Joel says, his eyes holding your attention for a moment longer than expected. “See you Monday.”

He turns and leaves your little yard, turning back around at your fencepost to give you a nod before continuing down the road in the dark rain.

Joel Miller just walked you home.

—-

The rain pelts him as he walks home, trying to avoid the large puddles scattered across the ground. The feeling inside his chest is familiar and yet still so foreign. You might just be the sweetest and kindest person he’s ever met.

Kindness, he used to know it. Hell, he used to teach it.

Telling Sarah to hold doors open for the elderly. Letting Tommy know he needs to drop in to visit their mom more often, not just when he needed to borrow a few bucks. Not charging the overwhelmed father overtime fees for drywall work when a burst pipe destroyed half his kitchen. Helping the short woman grab a bottle of soda off the top shelf at the grocery store.

But, thousands of miles traversed across a wasteland, killing and pillaging after losing the one reason he had to live, changes a man.

Then, Tommy. Becoming the grown-up as soon as Sarah took her last breath, keeping a watchful eye on Joel. Running through the door, grabbing the gun after Joel flinched, slapping him across the face and saying he needed him. That someday, someone else would need him. That Joel couldn’t leave him alone—not after they’d already lost so much.

Then, Tess. Exceedingly tough and resourceful. Teaching him that there’s more to getting what you want than violence. That you can lose everything and still believe in something better.

Then, Ellie. All she’s known is this world he’s called cruel and unforgiving, and yet, she’s tenacious, funny, and excited for every day. Each mile traveled with her, each cheesy joke she giggled at, each time she’d hide behind him, a bit of kindness would wrap around his heart.

He glances at the garage in his backyard. The lights are out; he’s sure she’s already asleep by now.

Then, Jackson. How can one care for others when they can’t even care for themselves? It was always easier to say community no longer exists… until the gates opened to him, and he saw a future for not only himself but for Ellie, too.

He steps through his door, knocking his wet boots against the rug before slipping them off and putting them on a shoe rack. He never thought he’d have something as ridiculously utilitarian as a shoe rack. Now, he has a warm home to make his own, a comfortable bed to lie in, safety, and protection. Foreign luxuries that now seem normal.

He slowly learned to believe that there was hope, there was kindness. He didn’t have to lock his heart away. He could have a future while still holding onto the past kindness he once knew.

He walks into his studio and studies the half-finished mural. Green stems climb across the wall, waiting for you to make the petals bloom. He leans in, his eyes following your delicate brush strokes. His heart is overwhelmed by the time and care you’ve put forth to do this for him. He doesn’t deserve this kindness, and yet, your art tells him otherwise.

And then, there’s you. Your bright flowers covering dingy walls, leaving the world a little more beautiful. Your joy for teaching your students, especially Ellie. Your little library, giving his fellow residents an escape with each tattered book. People like you shouldn’t exist, so young when the world ended, and yet here you are–restoring kindness into the too-often cruel world. Restoring kindness inside his heart.

He opens the cabinet in the corner of his studio, pulling out the wooden block just starting to take shape and his carving tools before sitting down on his work stool, facing the mural.

Songs mentioned in this chapter: "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" by Neutral Milk Hotel "Radio Cure" by Wilco "Miss You" by The Rolling Stones

Divider courtesy of @/saradika-graphics

perma tags: @forspringcleaning, @schnarfer, @mothandpidgeon Tagging some mutuals who showed interest and those who requested. (As always, let me know if you'd like to be put on or taken off.) @secretelephanttattoo, @sawymredfox, @moonlitbirdie, @arcanefox207, @almostfoxglove, @pascalssbabyy, @toomanytookas, @jolapeno, @goodwithcheese, @msjarvis @itwasntimethatdidit40, @burntheedges, @magpiepills, @maggiemayhemnj, @ace-turned-confused @lorettafudge, @jennaispunk, @lotusbxtch, @sunnytuliptime, @sizzlingcloudmentality @cheekychaos28, @ashleyfilm, @anoverwhelmingdin, @chewie-bars, @whimsiwitchy @suzysface, @peelieblue, @copperhalfcent, @flawssy-227, @tuquoquebrute

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milksuu · 2 years ago

Text

Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers.

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors.

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

EMAIL: [email protected]

TELEPHONE: XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.”

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.”

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.”

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.”

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest.

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute.

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.”

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn.

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps.

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness.

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.”

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool.

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too.

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.”

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite.

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.”

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3

#heartsteel #league of legends #Heartsteel x reader #kayn x reader #ezreal x reader #aphelios x reader #Sett x reader #K'Sante x reader #Yone x reader #reader insert #league of legends fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #divider by @benkeibear

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promenadewithme · 2 years ago

Text

Glorious

a/n: I'm so sad that I accidentally lost the request for this! Long story short, I posted the unfinished story instead of saving it to my drafts, so I deleted it. It's been too long since I last posted and I promise I'll try to do so more often!! Also, this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it's terrible!

Request: Cedric smut after quidditch practice

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Female! Reader

Warnings: smut (obviously), switch! Cedric (mostly sub), switch! Reader (mostly dom), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people!!), edging, orgasm denial, friends cockblocking ced (poor baby), dirty talk, slight breeding kink, praise and degradation.

Word count: I have no idea, but A LOT. More than I expected, to be honest. I want to say 4k of smut? (Don't come at me, I'm horny)

If you like this, reblog or (if you can and want to) buy me a coffee!

Glorious.

That was the word that came to mind as the one and only Cedric Diggory flew after the snitch. Autumn had just begun but summer has left its heat. And that left Cedric shirtless during training.

He was far away from where you sat, but his lean muscles glowed under the sun, leaving goosebumps on your skin despite the heatwave.

With or without a shirt, seeing your boyfriend train was a huge turn-on. His brows furrowed in concentration, his muscles straining to stay balanced on the broom, his agility and keen eye, the competitiveness of it all.

Of course, in the end, it was just a bunch if people playing with balls of all shapes and sizes. You were particularly a big fan of fondling in the bedroom, so why not cheer your boyfriend on while he did the same?

'Ok, maybe not the same. But we can't all be athletic.' You thought, just as Cedric laid eyes on the snitch.

"Come on, Ced!" You cheered, jumping up and down in the stands along with some of the other player's significant others and Hufflepuff supporters.

He flew quicker by the second, reaching out into the clouds. The golden ball was fast, but Cedric was faster. Soon enough, he caught the snitch and both teams went wild for their seeker.

Even though it was just a practice game, you cheered and jumped. Cedric caught your eyes from the other side of the field and flew toward you.

Every game he did the same thing, it became your tradition. The moment he caught the snitch, he flew your way for a celebratory kiss before touching the ground to cheer with his teammates.

"Hello, darling" he said with a huge grin before connecting his lips with yours.

Cedric deepened the kiss, urging you to part your lips with a brush of his tongue. You felt the saltiness as you swiped your own against his lips, but you didn't mind.

His warm tongue connected with yours a second later, causing a tingling sensation between your legs.

Cedric pulled away entirely too quickly, leaving you closed-eyed and chasing his lips. With a cocky grin and a wink, he flew down to where his team had already started removing their gear.

He would definitely pay for his teasing later. For now, you hiked your skirt a bit higher and went to meet him beside the locker rooms.

The two of you locked eyes and you made sure to sway your hips a bit more. His gaze scanned your body hungrily.

Due to the warm weather, you had removed your socks and tie, as well as opened your shirt. It hadn't been on purpose, but you were glad you did. If looks could kill, you'd be splayed and torn apart on Cedric's dick. Your thighs squeezed together in anticipation.

"(y/n)! Wait!" Exclaimed Luna, trotting down the bleachers.

You cursed under your breath and Cedric laughed before going into the changing rooms.

You loved Luna, she was one of your closest friends, but reading the room was definitely not one of her strong suits.

"Hi" she sighed, going in for a tight hug.

"Hey, Luna" you hugged her back just as tightly.

"Would you like to study potions later? I could use your help"

"Sure." You answered, starting down the stairs again, Luna trailing beside you "Lake or library?"

"Oh, library. The lake has too many distractions, I have to stay focused this time."

"Alright, after Snape’s class?"

"Yes, that will work perfectly." She nodded, wrote it down on her hand and turned to leave before glancing back with a smirk "have a nice time with Cedric, but do try not to get caught."

You stood there gobsmacked.

Purposely cockblocked by Luna Lovegood.

You laughed before heading towards the locker room.

Two players headed out, waving your way, as you leaned against the wall opposite of where Cedric was.

Fifteen more minutes went by and three players had left. You crossed your arms and sighed.

'What in Merlin's name is taking so long?' You asked yourself, patience growing thinner by the minute.

When your watch marked twenty-five minutes since the players went in, the 6th player left and Cedric was still nowhere to be found.

You decided to wait five more minutes.

'You're just being impatient. Calm the hell down, (y/n)' you told yourself, taking a deep breath.

But 30 minutes was too much. Not for you, but for Cedric. He bathes like there's a ticking time bomb in the showers.

'Is he hurt?' The thought crossed your mind and your feet lead you inside.

The air was humid and hot around you.

"Cedric?" You whisper-yelled "I swear to Merlin, if you're dead in here, I'll kill you."

A groan made you stop in your tracks.

"Cedric?" You called out, moving towards the deep breathing.

Rounding the corner, you found a sight picked straight out of your dirtiest maladaptive daydreams.

Your boyfriend was naked and wet. Cedric's left hand tried to grip the wall, beads of water trailing down his tense biceps and lower. It flowed down his torso and lower even, to where his right hand held a tight grip around his cock, pumping up and down in a slow and sensual pace.

"Took you long enough" he said, a smirk on his face.

Striding towards him, you smirked right back. Removing your uniform and shoes, then, ever so slowly, your underwear. A groaning Cedric quickened his pace at the sight of you.

You entered the shower, closing the water, as Cedric released his dick and grabbed your waist, pulling you into him.

He went straight for your lips, just as slow and sensual as his former pace.

Your hands went separate ways. One towards his hair, that pulled the short strands back to break the kiss. The other wrapped around his arousal, stroking till the tip.

The mixture of both sensations had Cedric moaning your name fervently.

"Who said you could start without me?" You whispered in his ear.

"Didn't mean to, didn't think you'd take this long to come find me" he replied, kissing your neck right where he knew your knees would go weak.

"You'll still have to pay for your hastiness."

"You know I love your punishments, darling" he grins and catches your lips in a passionate kiss. Tongues circling, teeth clashing and bodies drawing impossibly closer.

Your hand started stroking his swollen flesh again, drawling low and soft moans from his lips.

"I know, love." You soothed, but your hand only moved faster, your grip tighter.

A string of curses escaped his lips.

"(y/n)" he whimpered.

"You're so close, aren't you?" You cooed.

"So close, so close" he answered frantically.

"Not quite yet, I can't let you off the hook that easily." You said, halting your movements.

He let out a dissapointed groan.

"Don't be ungrateful, darling." You teased, "You'll come soon enough"

A bead of pre-cum leaked from his tip. You gathered it in your thumb and brought it to your lips, sucking the saltiness seductively.

Cedric's pupils were blown wide and an almost primal look took over his features.

You grabbed his neck and kissed him with everything you had, doing all the things you knew would drive him wild, then pulled away. He was left closed eyed, chasing your lips.

But you hadn't had all your fun yet. With a grin on your face, you turned around and headed towards your clothes.

"Darling?" he asked.

You ignored him, putting on your shirt and probably missing a few buttons in the process. You saw Cedric grab his towel, a confused look on his face. You put on your skirt and threw your lace underwear his way. He grabbed them with slightly wide eyes.

"I'd get ready quickly if I were you. If I wait too long for you, I might start by myself." with a wink, you left a bungling Cedric hurriedly drying himself.

You let out a low giggle while strutting out the locker rooms. You were leaving the field when Cedric caught up with you, shirt half open, your lace panties between his teeth, and still buttoning up his pants.

You stifled a giggle at the sight and walked faster. He tripped, but managed to catch himself.

Before long, he was fully dressed and walking fast beside you, glancing your way every few seconds with a giddy smile on his face.

That is, until Harry Potter started calling after him.

His eyes widened slightly, he grabbed your arm and said "Don't you dare stop walking"

With a playful smile on your face, you released your arm from his grip and turned towards the griffindor.

"Hello, Harry!" You smiled widely, mosty because of the impatient look on Cedric's face.

"Hey, (y/n)," he turned towards your boyfriend "Cedric, can I talk to you for a second?" the boy looked at you for a split second before returning his gaze to Cedric "Alone."

"Actually, we-"

"Of course! Take your time, Harry!" You answered, overly amiable.

As you started walking away, Cedric grabbed your arm again.

"(y/n)'s not feeling very well, I have to take care of her. Can we do this another time?"

"Oh, nonsense! You know I can take care of myself." You said, untangling yourself from him, "Besides, I feel much better now. I might even -"

Your words were cut off as Cedric pulled you against his chest.

"I'm sure (y/n) won't tell a soul, there's nothing you can say to me that you can't say to her."

Harry reluctantly started saying something about some girl. Maybe Cho? Ginny? You had no idea. You were too busy feeling Cedric's hard cock against your backside, his hands pressing at your stomach to hold you as close as possible.

You looked up at him and he had a smug look on his face. He knew what he was doing.

His lips were moving, but all you could thing about was his dick inside you, pounding over and over again until your whole body shook.

"What do you think, (y/n)?"

Your name pulls you back from your lustful state and you realise the words came from Harry. He looked doubtful and insecure. You understood him, you'd been in a similar situation after all. Who never has? Pining after someone and not knowing if they'll ever want you back? Too shy and insecure to do anything about it? It was a universal experience.

"I think that I never would have told Cedric about my feelings if he didn't make the first move. I never would have told him how I felt and we wouldn't be together now." You held Cedric's hands on your stomach and smiled at the memory of him first coming to speak with you.

"I think that you will never know how she feels if you never ask. Life is about taking risks. Sometimes it doesn't work out, but that only means that person wasn't the one for you. You are remarkable, Harry Potter. If anyone does not want you it's their loss, not yours. And if they do want you, they'll be extremely lucky to have you."

The boy was blushing by the end of your speech and Cedric smiled down at you.

"D'you really think so?" he asked, but a smile pulled at his lips.

"I do." you answered sincerely.

"Ok, Potter, cheers mate. We gotta go." Cedric said, taking your hand, not waiting for a reply before jogging through the halls, dragging you along with him.

Your laughter echoed through the halls and your stomach clenched in anticipation. Cedric lead you down the stairs and past the kitchens, his face no longer humorous.

He tapped the rhythm to "Helga Hufflepuff" on the right barrel and immediately pushed through, pulling you along with him. You both made your way to his dorm, thanking Merlin once again that prefects have individual rooms.

The click of the lock closing resonated through the room and the only noise left was your heavy breathing as you gazed as one another.

You made the first move, slowly unbuttoning your shirt and leaving it to fall on the floor. Cedric watched, unmoving, as you unzipped your skirt and let it fall as well.

You leaned against the door and he looked at you with a predatory gaze, but you both knew who was in charge.

"Kneel." you commanded and Cedric immediately obeyed, falling to his knees in front of you, holding the back of your thighs.

"Did I say you could touch me?" you asked, raking your hands through his hair.

He removed his hands from you, but begged "I need you so much, please. Can I make you come?" his pupils were blown wide, his brows furrowed, and his erection pressing against his pants.

"Only because you asked so nicely" you answered sweetly and Cedric sighed, his head falling to your mound.

His hands massaged your buttocks as he gave you kisses so close yet so far to where you needed him most.

"Now," you breathed "you are going to give me head and make me cum. Can you do that, baby?"

"Please," he whimpered, kissing your mound, "wanna taste you so bad, darling."

"Go ahead, Ced."

He immediately complied, hiking your right leg over his shoulder and licking from your entrance to your clit. You gasped, steadying yourself against the wall and he moaned against you.

"Always taste so good, my love."

Cedric licked and sucked like a starved man, tearing moan after moan from you.

"Cedric" you whimpered, gripping his hair to bring him closer or push him away. You didn't even know anymore.

He swirled his tongue around your clit before lowering his mouth to your entrance again and plunging his tongue inside. Your groan was loud enough for anyone in the hufflepuff common room and adjacent to hear as he fucked you slowly with his tongue.

"Just like that, baby."

He complied, keeping the same rhythm. In and out, in and out.

Your walls started clenching and warmth spread across your lower stomach, but it still wasn't enough.

"I need more." you said, looking down at him.

Like a good boy, he started stroking your clit with his thumb and worked his tongue faster.

Like that wasn't enough, he looked up at you and just the sight of him on his knees for you, with disheveled hair, eating you out while his spare hand stroked his cock would have brought on your first orgasm.

Your body shook and your knees gave out, but Cedric still held you and kept using his tongue to help you ride out your high.

When it was too much, you pulled his head away from your core by his hair.

"You were so good, my love." You caressed his face "Until you started touching yourself."

"I wasn't going to make myself come, I swear." He stood up "I just wanted to feel good."

"I'll make you feel good, baby." you dragged your finger and nails down his torso, leaving goosebumps as you told him to lie down on the bed.

"Finish taking your clothes off," you said, looking around "I want you naked when I get on that bed."

Finding what you were looking for, you crawled over your boyfriend's body and sat down on top of his erection. The direct contact with your heat made him swear.

You put his arms above his head and bound his wrists to the headboard with your house's tie.

"Please, I swear I won't touch myself." he pulled at the tie "I just wanna touch you, darling."

"Oh, I can't let you do that." you propped your hands on his chest and started a tortuously slow drag of your hips up and down his length, "You've been misbehaving a lot this afternoon. You only get to touch me when you've been a good boy."

"I'll be a good boy, I promise." he whimpered.

"We'll see about that." you answered, grinding a bit faster against him.

His hands were white from pulling at the tie, his breathing laboured and his hips shaking with restraint.

You leaned forward, your breasts falling to his face, "Suck on them."

He leaned towards them and captured your left nipple with his mouth. His nibbling and sucking tore moans from you and made you fasten your pace on his cock.

"Gonna come soon." he managed before turning his attention to your right nipple.

You took his jaw in your hand and kissed him passionately before resting your forehead against his.

His cock started twitching beneath you and Merlin if it didn't bring you an instant from your second orgasm, but you pulled away all at once.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and his dick kept spasming, his hips bulking.

Cedric whimpered.

"I know, I know." you cooed "You're doing so good, but I'm not done punishing you just yet."

You connected your lips one last time before making your way to the foot of the bed, caressing his leg as you walked. The growing wetness and incessant pulse between your thighs made you clench them.

"You did so good at training today, Ced." you praised him, "And you looked so handsome, too."

You got on the bed once more, between his legs this time, and he looked down at you.

"Wanted your pretty cock in my mouth the whole time."

He moaned as you started stroking his length, a bead of pre-cum falling onto your hand.

"Please, I want to be inside you." he begged, thrusting into your hand.

"Soon enough, my love." you answered kissing his tip, earning you a hiss "Have patience."

Your mouth watered as you looked at his engorged member, hard against his abs. All flustered cheeks, glistening skin, and shallow breaths, Cedric awaited your next move.

"Glorious." You breathed to yourself, but the seeker flushed even more from the praise.

Your eyes went back to his cock and the vein on the underside was your first target. You heard his moan as you licked him from base to tip, then took him inside your mouth all at once.

His hips bulked and his head hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Your pulse quickened everywhere.

Bobbing your head up and down, sucking harder at the head, you pushed Cedric closer to the edge.

He moaned your name like a prayer, over and over, and you kept up your pace even as tears fell from your eyes and drool spread down your chin.

"Touch my balls." He gasped and you complied, smiling around him.

You cupped and massaged his scrotum, already heavy with cum and you imagined all that inside of you. Moaning at the thought, you gave Cedric one last suck before getting up on your knees to untie him.

His hands flew to your hips and his lips to yours.

"You had your fun, darling, now it's my turn." he said, voice deep and eyes dark. His pupils were so dilated you could barely see the usual grey.

Holding your body to his, he flipped the both of you and looked down at you with one arm holding his weight beside your body, the other hand softly grazing your body.

"Hello, gorgeous." he smiled, diving to kiss you.

You kissed him back, tongues caressing each other and hands roaming.

Two fingers slid from your entrance to your clit and you shuddered.

"So wet for me, aren't you?" he took his digits to his lips and sucked them clean, you bit your bottom lip to contain a moan.

The sight alone could have made you cum.

"I need you to use your words, darling. I'm going to fuck you into the mattress right now, alright?" he said, caressing your face.

The contrast between his words and his tenderness had you squirming "Please." was all you could manage.

Taking his swollen cock, he teased you, dragging the head up and down your slit then circling your clit.

"Hurry!" you whined and he immediately obliged, completely sheathing his cock in your entrance.

Both gasping, your walls clenched around him and Cedric steadied himself against the bed.

Your mingling breaths evened out a bit before Cedric slowly pulled out until the tip and rutted back in again.

One of your hands shot up to hold his biceps while the other splayed against his back.

His length hit deep, hard and slow, making you dizzy.

He moaned your name in your ear, hair brushing the side of your face. Your legs made their way around his waist, letting him hit even deeper and you clenched harder around him.

"Fuck, darling." he groaned, quickening his pace "Need you to come for me, can you do that?"

His every thrust lead you to your second orgasm. How deep he hit, the moans and grunts he let out, how every plunge of his hips rubbed against you clit, the look he had in his eyes.

Every one of your muscles clenched and shook, Cedric moaned, and you let out a cry as blinding pleasure exploded through your body.

Even as you came down from your high, the thrusts didn't stop. If anything, they were harder and faster.

Cedric pulled out and turned you over, bringing your ass towards him. He plunged himself in again and continued his thrusts just as deep and fast as before.

You bit the pillow as he gave your ass a smack, but he still heard your low groan.

"You like that, don't you?" he spanked you again, a bit harder this time, and you cried out "My pretty little cock slut."

You moaned incoherently as he hit just the right spot over and over.

"Gonna come inside you, darling." he grunted.

Grabbing one of his hands placed on your hips, you looked back at him and, as always, the sight was glorious.

Cedric could have been sculpted by the gods themselves, with a layer of sweat that made his skin glow, veins and lean muscles bulging, and sexual prowess you were sure no human should have been made to have.

Interlacing your fingers, he looked into your eyes then shot his head up and his thrusts became sloppier. His dick started swelling inside you and you moaned. He was close and so were you.

"Fill me up, Ced. Wanna be so full of you." was the last thing you managed to say before your walls clenched tightly around him and you let out a silent scream.

Cedric poured out a string of curses and gave one final deep thrust before you felt his release coat your walls. Breathing laboured and bodies exhausted, he fell to his side and brought your body with him.

"You did so good, baby." he praised, kissing your hair, then asked sweetly "Do you need anything? Water, a bath?"

You turned around and curled into him "Just you."

He smiled and kissed your forehead "You'll always have me."

"I love you." you murmured into his chest.

Cedric's heart swelled in his chest and he said "I love you." but you were already asleep.

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mostly-marvel-musings · 5 months ago

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Hi, I am slipping into your Kinktober requests again, if that's okay with you! I'd love to request something for Hugh Jackman this time, as I keep seeing more and more of him, and I'm happy to drool over that fantastic man with your stories! 👀

Kissing down every inch of your body they possibly can, showing how much they love you. + "Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name.

I'm preparing to melt into a permanent puddle of goo here as I'm happily waiting to see what you'll come up with here. Again, thank you for everything you share with us, and I'm looking forward to reading it all! 🤍

Kiss away your insecurities

A/N: Thank you for requesting this, my darling! Hope you like it :) Special thanks to @stark-ironman for helping me with this idea 💛

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut themes, angst, floof. Body image issues, self-doubt and negative talk.

Hugh Jackman, Logan Masterlist

You were still out of breath.

Heart pounding wildly against your ribcage thanks to the activities you and your boyfriend were up to ever since he got home. Even though the shared sounds of passion had died down, they were now replaced with your louder insecurities, forcing you to curl away from the man and head to the bathroom to clean up.

Hugh frowned as the door slammed shut with a little more force than usual. Concerned, he knocked on it asking if you were okay.

“Uh, yeah. Fine.” You responded, blinking back tears that began rapidly gathering. Your inner thoughts screamed you didn’t deserve all of this.

“Mind if I join you for a quick shower, darling?” Hugh called again after hearing the water running. Something you had a habit of doing every time you were overwhelmed with emotions.

“Actually I’m going to be right out. You know I have the—the thing early morning.”

Cursing yourself to have to lie, you scrubbed your body forcefully, glad the tears streamed down with the hot water and your shaky voice was somewhat covered.

As you stepped out of the bathroom, you were met with a concerned Hugh, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No! Why would you think that?” You faked a laugh, going around him to get dressed for bed. Knowing fully well you weren’t fooling your boyfriend.

“Because you’re avoiding me.”

Giving him your most reassuring smile that you could muster, you shook your head as you slipped into one of his well worn t-shirts, getting onto your side of the bed.

“No it’s just, I have to wake up early tomorrow and I wanted to get a quick shower in. I’m fine. Really.”

He was silent for a while as he joined you in bed, watching you fluff the pillows before you turned away from the man to switch off the bedside lamp.

“You can tell that to someone who believes your lies, darling. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” He tried again, switching the lamp back on and reaching out for your hand.

“Would you just drop it, Hugh?” You snapped, hating yourself for it as you turned the lights out again, pulling the blanket over and hiding yourself in its fluffy depths, hoping it would somehow cover your imperfections.

Your mind was still flooded with all sorts of thoughts about the way you looked, and how any day your little daydream would end and Hugh would realise what a mistake dating you was.

What was he even with you? You were far from perfect. You had curves that no matter what you did wouldn’t go away. You got trapped in your own head quite a bit, you were moody, and ten thousand other things that would push you away from the ‘ideal girlfriend’ title.

You lived in constant fear that he’d wake up one day and decide he was done with you. Then what would you ever do?

The next morning you woke up before Hugh did and went for a run, hoping it would clear your head.

It worked until you got a few heads turning in your direction, it wasn’t uncommon considering who you were dating; it was still overwhelming sometimes. You heard giggles and judgemental scoffs, possibly they were commenting on the way you looked.

It made you want to disappear. A sense of your deepest fears winning made you rush home, discard your jacket and ready to retreat into your room for the rest of the day. That was until your eyes fell on the breakfast spread that lay waiting on the table to your right.

“Morning sunshine! I thought I’d whip up your favourite breakfast today since you—hey, what’s wrong?”

You didn’t realise you had teared up again until Hugh rushed to your side with worry.

“Why are you with me?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I mean why are you with me? I don’t deserve any of this. You could be with anyone you want, I don’t understand why—”

He stepped in your line of vision, silencing your little ramble before gently wiping your tears away and leading you to sit on an armchair.

Wordlessly holding your hand against his chest, he took a deep breath in, gently coaxing you to follow. When you did, you could feel your erratic breaths returning to a normal slowly but surely. Just his presence on difficult days like these was calming.

“Talk to me?” he nudged, hands still clasped reassuringly.

“I just feel like you could do so much better than this…than me. You’re so—I mean, I am—”

Struggling to complete the sentence, you couldn’t help the crack in your voice as you avoided his gaze, shifting nervously on the chair.

“Beautiful? Kind? The best thing to have happened to me?” Hugh tilted your face to meet your eyes again, his own shining with all the love and adoration reserved just for you.

You wanted to believe him, so badly, yet the voices in your head got loud enough to make you doubt every single thing.

“I won’t allow you to talk much less think such lies about my amazing girlfriend, you know. She’s lucky her boyfriend immensely enjoys demonstrating just how much she means to him.”

You smiled at that, much to Hugh's relief, shaking your head.

"If you'll allow me to show you, my love."

With that he picked you up, leaving no room for any further protests from your side. Kicking the bedroom door shut with his foot, his lips descending onto yours in a kiss that effectively quieted down your fears and filled you with a renewed sense of assurance.

As the kiss deepened, your anxieties melted away, giving way for all the love that you held for this man, who by a miracle from the universe, was all yours. When you eventually broke the kiss after what felt like hours, he continued demonstrating all that he'd promised, making sure to whisper words that held such honesty, you wholeheartedly believed them.

This was nothing like you'd ever experienced before. This was more than just sex, it was worshiping, cherishing and much more. He held you close, accepting every curve, every scar, every last freckle as his own, showering you with all his love. You hadn't felt so loved, so respected, so seen, ever before in your life.

When you were filled to the hilt with his manhood, a moan that you trying so hard to suppress, escaped. Quickly covered your mouth with a hand, you quieted down, embarrassed.

"Don't be shy baby, I love the way you moan my name."

"I'm afraid I'm too loud." you whispered.

Hugh tutted, interlacing your fingers and firmly locking your hands over your head, securing them in their rightful place as he began moving in your sopping heat.

"Not loud enough. Let 'em hear. Let 'em hear who's making you feel good, sweetheart."

Hot and breathy against your ear, his honeyed voice was enough to turn your insides to mush, encouraging you to not hold back anymore.

Soon, the walls of the house echoed with your shared sounds of passion, the intensity of them evident as you reached your highs together. Bodies trembling with wanton need as you drew the most sinful moans out of each other, fully alive in the moment.

As your climax crashed over you, it seemed to wash away any lingering negativity and uncertainty you had previously felt, making you sure of your dreams being actualized.

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