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solxamber · 19 days ago

Note

I loved the platonic Malleus helps Yuu get Idia fic and I was wondering if you could so something similar with Cater or Trey or Vil or Leona or Floyd? You can choose, anything like that would be amazing my liege.

you asked and i answered, i love this concept so much

Fae Courtship 101: Romance for Dummies || Floyd Leech

In your desperation to confess to Floyd, you made the grave mistake of recruiting Malleus for help—now the only thing you’re courting is death.

For reasons beyond mortal comprehension—beyond your own comprehension—you have fallen for Floyd Leech.

Floyd. Leech.

The man who treats personal space like a suggestion, bites people for fun, and once chased a first-year across campus while laughing like a slasher villain because he was “bored.”

The man who once tried to sell you to Azul in exchange for a really nice hat. The man who could, at any given moment, be contemplating something as simple as “what’s for lunch” or something as horrifyingly chaotic as “what if I threw the prefect off the third-floor balcony to see how they bounce?”

It’s a bad idea. Objectively, scientifically, in every single way, this is a mistake.

Grim and Deuce have been holding interventions. The ghosts of Ramshackle have been looking at you like they’re already preparing to welcome you into their ranks. You're rapidly losing the moral high ground in any discussion about Ace’s bad life choices.

But the heart wants what it wants. And unfortunately, yours wants to make terrible decisions.

Which brings you here, pacing alongside Malleus Draconia, crown prince of Briar Valley, king of ominous nighttime strolls, and your designated therapist for the evening.

“I just—I don’t get it, Malleus!” you wail, gesturing wildly as you stomp through the moonlit campus. “I should like normal people! People who don’t consider attempted murder to be a love language! I should have instincts!”

Malleus hums in thought. “Hm. Concerning.”

“Exactly!” You throw your hands up. “I should be running in the opposite direction! Instead, I’m over here, wondering if he’d bite me gently if I asked nicely!”

Malleus stops walking.

You stop too, looking over to see him gazing at you with a carefully neutral expression. There’s a brief silence. A beat. And then, slowly—gravely—he nods.

“Understood.”

You blink. “...Huh?”

He turns to you with the air of a man who has just accepted a sacred duty. “You have chosen a perilous path, Child of Man.”

You stare. “I—??"

“But fear not,” he continues, raising a hand to his chest in solemn promise. “I shall help you attain your romance.”

Silence.

A breeze rolls through the courtyard. A crow caws in the distance. Somewhere, Grim is experiencing a deep sense of foreboding.

“…You’re going to what?”

Malleus nods again, expression determined. “Leave it to me.”

You suddenly have so many regrets.

Grim looks at you the way a doctor looks at a patient about to flatline. Gravely. With pity. With deep concern for the irreversible damage.

"Okay, listen hench-human, I’ve let a lot of things slide, but this? This I gotta ask—do you hate life that much?"

You blink at him. "What?"

Grim waves his little paws dramatically. "First, you fall for Floyd of all people. That’s already a death wish. And now, you’re actually listening to Malleus for dating advice? What’s next? You gonna ask Kalim for tips on financial responsibility?!"

You open your mouth. Close it. You… okay, you really have no defense. But before you can say anything—

There’s a knock at the door.

And you don’t even have to guess who it is.

You open it to find Malleus standing there, his expression set in earnest determination. In his hands is a book that looks older than your grandmother. The kind of ancient tome that looks like it holds dark secrets, forbidden spells, possibly even a recipe for soup made from human souls.

Standing right next to him, grinning like a goblin, is Lilia.

You feel your soul leave your body.

"Ah, Child of Man," Malleus intones. "I have found it. The ultimate guide to fae courtship rituals. You shall use these techniques to win the heart of your eel."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Lilia cackles. "Do you know how long it's been since I’ve seen these methods in action? The devastation! The absolute carnage!"

You stare at them. You stare into the abyss. The abyss grins back.

Grim looks at you, his face a perfect picture of someone watching a loved one make the worst life decisions in real time.

"You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

…You sigh. "Yeah. I’m really doing this."

You are simply minding your own business, walking to class like a normal person, when you spot Floyd approaching from the other end of the hallway.

As always, you smile at him, because you have fully accepted your fate as a fool with horrible taste in men. You expect him to either grin back or threaten to suplex you for fun—classic Floyd things.

What you do not expect is the sudden sensation of a phantom hand shoving you forward.

And just like that, gravity wins.

You crash into Floyd with all the grace of a drunk goose, smacking into his chest with enough force to send both of you stumbling. Floyd barely moves (because he is built like a problem), but you rebound like a cartoon character, nearly falling over before his hands land heavily on your shoulders.

For a brief, dizzying moment, you stare at him.

Then, slowly, your brain remembers what just happened, and you whip around—

Only to see Malleus standing at the end of the hallway, looking extremely pleased with himself.

He gives you a smug, regal nod.

He is also holding a book titled "How to Romance for Dummies."

You are going to throw hands with a literal prince.

Before you can implode, Floyd’s grip on your shoulders tightens. You turn back to him, only to find him looking entirely too displeased about being your impromptu landing pad.

“Shriiiimpy,” he drawls, squinting at you like a judge in a courtroom drama. “What’s up with that, huh? Tryna tackle me first thing in the morning?”

“I—I tripped!” you stammer, trying to collect the shreds of your dignity. “I didn’t mean to crash into you, I swear!”

Floyd hums, unconvinced. Then, after a beat of consideration, he shrugs.

“Aaah, whatever.” His fingers dig just slightly into your shoulders, a slow grin stretching across his face. “You still ran into me, soooo… you owe me.”

You blink. “Wait. Owe you?”

“Mhm!” His grin widens, teeth sharp. “Now ya gotta hang out with me today.”

You blink again. Slowly. You could argue, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it won’t get you anywhere, and honestly? Maybe this is exactly the opening you need.

Maybe… Malleus isn’t that bad at this.

You take that last thought back immediately.

Because not even a day after that whole hallway fiasco, Malleus finds you again, pulls you aside with all the gravitas of an ancient ruler about to bestow divine wisdom, and insists that, in order to properly court Floyd, you must—

Compliment Floyd’s strength three times. At first, you thought, okay, easy enough, I can just tell him he’s strong and call it a day. But then—THEN—Malleus, in his infinite wisdom, handed you a quill and parchment and declared, “It must be in verse. Poetry carries the weight of true devotion.”

And now, here you are.

Standing in front of Floyd Leech. Holding a piece of paper with the most cringe-inducing attempt at poetry you've ever written in your life.

Floyd, to his credit, was already giggling the moment you approached with a look of sheer suffering. But when you clear your throat and attempt to actually read the thing—

"Oh mighty Floyd, with hands so bold—"

He just. Loses it.

Absolutely wheezing, doubling over, practically using you as a support beam to keep himself upright.

You glare at him and continue, determined to power through:

"A force unmatched, a tale retold—"

Floyd: "PFT—!!!"

He’s straight-up crying at this point. Tears. You swear you hear Jade laugh somewhere in the distance.

You don’t even make it to the third compliment. You just turn on your heel and walk away before your soul crumples in on itself like a dying star.

Malleus, watching from afar, sighs in clear disappointment. “You lack dedication,” he murmurs, shaking his head like an elder watching the youth fail at life.

You absolutely regret everything.

You don't know why you keep letting Malleus give you advice. Actually, no—that's a lie. You do know. It's because the second he heard you liked Floyd, his eyes lit up like he’d just been given a personal quest by the divine forces of romance, and now he refuses to rest until your love is secured.

Unfortunately, this means you are currently locked in yet another horrendous discussion about fae courting rituals.

"Scent-marking is a vital step in courtship," Malleus declares with the kind of grim authority that should be reserved for battlefields, not this. "He must recognize you as his."

You blink at him. "Oh, like giving him my hoodie or something?" That’s normal. That’s doable. That’s the kind of thing people do when they like each other, right? You’ve seen couples swap sweaters before. Maybe Malleus is finally onto something not-insane.

Malleus shakes his head gravely. "No. You must present him with something you have personally scented. Ideally, by rolling upon it."

Silence.

Rolling upon it.

You stare at him. He stares back. Completely serious.

You try to process what he’s just suggested. What he has just, with full sincerity, told you to do.

"Malleus."

"Yes?"

"You want me to roll around on an object like a dog and then give it to Floyd."

"Precisely."

You briefly consider just walking into the ocean.

It takes twenty full minutes to talk him down from this absolute lunacy and convince him that simply giving Floyd a sweater you’ve worn will do the job just fine. He looks at you the way a disappointed coach looks at a failing athlete.

"If you are not dedicated to the craft," he mutters, "you cannot expect great results."

You pretend you don’t hear him.

Fast forward to the next day, and you are sitting in class next to Floyd, who is draped over his desk in a deep and powerful boredom coma.

You pull out the sweater and awkwardly nudge it toward him.

"Here."

Floyd immediately perks up. Dangerously interested. He tilts his head, peering at the sweater like you’ve just handed him a rare treasure.

"Eh? What's this?"

"It's mine. You can have it," you say, trying to play it cool, despite the fact that your entire soul is trying to flee your body from embarrassment.

Floyd picks up the sweater and—without hesitation—presses his face into it.

You almost die. Right then and there. Instant expiration.

He leans back in his chair, grinning way too wide. "Heheh~ You smell nice, shrimpy~"

You barely manage to hold onto your composure. You are barely hanging on.

Malleus, watching from the hallway, narrows his eyes and mutters, "It is not the worst effort... but it lacks the impact of true commitment."

You ignore him. You ignore everything. You're just grateful that—for once—this wasn’t completely unhinged, and that Floyd somehow seems to like it.

"Nothing says romance like a meal made with your own two hands!" Lilia declares, slamming an ancient, definitely cursed cookbook onto the table.

You blink down at it. The title is in some language that makes your vision swim just looking at it. The edges are charred, the pages stained with substances you’re 70% sure are not food-safe, and Malleus—Malleus Draconia himself, looks a little unsure.

That should have been your first hint.

But you? A fool. An idiot. A desperate, love-struck buffoon? You press forward.

“Alright,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, already regretting this. “What ingredients do I need?”

Lilia beams, flipping to a page that looks like it came from an alchemist’s horror novel.

"Let's see! We’ll need:"

• Moonshade Truffle,

• A pinch of Sablethorn Dust,

• Three drops of Evernight Basilisk Extract,

• Seven Tears of a Joyful Banshee,

• And a Love-Smitten Fire Spirit’s Breath!

…

You stare.

"Lilia."

"Yes, beastie?"

"These sound like potion ingredients."

"Oh-ho!" Lilia chuckles, waving a hand. "You humans always get so caught up in technicalities. But what is cooking if not a kind of magic?"

…No. No, this is actual magic. You are not making a love potion, but this sure as hell sounds like one.

But, like the fool you are, you go along with it. You spend far too much money (your entire savings) at Azul’s Most Definitely Not a Scam Emporium for all of these ridiculous ingredients. He knows you’re up to something dumb. He does not care. He simply profits.

And now, here you are. In the Ramshackle kitchen. Grim watches from a safe distance behind a chair. Malleus stands off to the side with his arms crossed, looking like he is rethinking his life choices. And Lilia, that menace, is watching you mix the ingredients like a proud mentor.

Everything is going fine. Suspiciously fine.

And then—

"Alright, time to bake it!" Lilia claps his hands. "It says here to bake at 350 for 20 minutes!"

You nod. This is reasonable.

"However!" He flips the page. "In the olden days, we used a slightly different method."

Malleus frowns. Your stomach drops.

"Instead of 350 for 20 minutes…" Lilia hums. "It says here—750 for 10!"

…

"What."

"Don’t be shy! Give it a try!" Lilia gestures for you to do it.

Malleus shifts, looking like he wants to intervene. Grim is slowly backing out of the room. You ignore all of this.

Because you are an idiot.

You turn the oven to 750. You shove the pan inside. You watch in real-time as your dignity burns.

The oven makes a sound ovens should not make.

Something explodes. The smell is indescribable.

When you pull the pan out, it is a pile of pure, blackened charcoal.

You are horrified. Malleus looks concerned. Grim looks betrayed.

"Are ya tryin’ to kill me, Henchhuman?!" Grim yells. "I thought we were friends!"

But Lilia? Lilia is nodding approvingly.

"Ah," he sighs, nostalgic. "Just like how I remember it."

…This man should not be allowed in kitchens.

But you, an absolute buffoon, take the charred remains of your so-called courtship offering and bring it to Floyd anyway.

You find him in the cafeteria, dump the plate in front of him, and sit down. Defeated.

Floyd stares. Pokes it with a finger.

And then, he looks at you.

With pity.

"Shrimpy." His voice is gentle. You feel a chill of fear. "You goin' through hard times or somethin'?"

…

You die inside.

Your cooking was so bad that Floyd Leech—FLOYD LEECH—was feeling sympathy for you.

You have never known such shame.

You sit there, staring into the distance like a soldier who’s seen too much. A philosopher pondering the futility of existence. A person who has scent-marked a sweater and written poetry at the behest of a fae prince who thinks you’re simply not dedicated enough to the craft of love.

You are contemplating life, death, and the many, many decisions that have led you here.

And then, Jade sits beside you.

You don’t even flinch. You should. You should be wary. You should immediately launch yourself into the bushes and prepare to be interrogated in some terrifying eel version of psychological warfare. But you don’t. Because you have nothing left.

So you just turn your head slowly, look at him with the dull, hollow eyes of someone who’s really going through it.

Jade looks positively delighted.

"My, my," he says, in that syrupy, knowing voice of his. "What could possibly put you in such a state?"

You inhale. Exhale. Consider your options. Death is looking really attractive.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Jade hums, obviously entertained, but then—then—he decides to make it worse.

"You know," he muses, "even Floyd has started to get concerned."

You blink.

"…Huh?"

"Oh, yes," he says, resting his chin on his hand, enjoying every second of this. "Between the odd gifts, the unusual behavior, and your general aura of suffering, even he has begun to notice. Which means you are being particularly obvious, because he rarely pays attention to anything that isn't entertaining."

You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"What’s your point?" you mutter.

Jade smiles like a predator about to land a final, devastating strike.

"You should simply tell him. Because this…?" He gestures vaguely at your soul-deep despair. "This is rather pitiful."

You stare.

You process.

And, somewhere in the depths of your heart, you realize he’s right.

You are in shambles.

Like, properly, horrifically, soul-crushingly in shambles. You’ve been through so much. You've spent weeks engaging in increasingly deranged behavior at the behest of a well-meaning yet hopelessly out-of-touch fae prince. You've endured ritual poetry readings, scent-marking disasters, and a culinary war crime that left you emotionally and financially bankrupt.

And now, standing in front of Floyd Leech—the very cause of your descent into insanity—you finally snap.

"I LIKE YOU!" you blurt, voice cracking like a cheap mirror. "I LIKE YOU AND I'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE A LUNATIC BECAUSE MALLEUS SAID I HAD TO FOLLOW FAE COURTSHIP RITUALS AND I—" your voice hiccups, borderline hysterical, "—I THINK I LOST A PIECE OF MY SOUL WHEN I TRIED TO BAKE THAT DAMN CAKE BUT IT'S FINE, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THAT'S JUST WHAT LOVE IS??? AND I DID IT ALL FOR YOU, FLOYD, BECAUSE I AM A DUMB IDIOT WHO LIKES YOU FOR SOME REASON."

You gasp for air, because this has been a lot.

And Floyd?

Floyd is laughing.

Not just a chuckle, either. No, this menace of a man is bent over, hands on his knees, actually wheezing with mirth as if you’ve just performed the comedy routine of the century. His shoulders shake. His teeth glint in the light. He looks absolutely delighted.

And you? You just stand there, a broken, hollow shell of a human being.

"You should’ve just told me, Shrimpy~!" he cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. "I like you too, y’know?"

...

There’s a moment of silence as your poor, battered brain struggles to process this information.

"WHAT."

Floyd grins, like you haven’t just endured weeks of psychological torment at the hands of a dragon prince. "I mean, you’re fun! You make me laugh, and I like squeezin’ ya. ‘Course I like ya!"

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, he lunges forward and grabs you in a hug so tight that your ribs beg for mercy. You are crushed, consumed, engulfed in the sheer force of his affection. Your spine may never recover, but at this point, what’s another injury to your dignity?

And honestly? You don’t care.

Because he likes you.

Floyd likes you back.

Which means—you realize, tears pricking your eyes in relief—you never have to perform another insane fae courtship ritual again.

No more humiliating poetry. No more dubious scent-marking. No more playing Russian roulette with your digestive system in the name of romance. You did it. You won.

And then Floyd leans down, cups your face, and kisses you.

It's a little rough, a little overwhelming, but you melt into it anyway, because Sevens, you earned this.

Somewhere in the distance, Malleus Draconia watches from the shadows.

Arms crossed, nodding sagely, he looks upon his greatest success.

"My expert techniques," he murmurs, pride swelling in his voice, "have secured my child of man their eel."

Behind him, Lilia wipes an imaginary tear.

"Beautiful," he sighs.

Masterlist

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech x you #floyd #floyd leech #platonic malleus draconia x reader #platonic malleus x reader #platonic malleus #malleus x reader

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augustinewrites · 1 year ago

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“itadori, please respect his personal space—”

“kugisaki! stop hitting him—”

“megumi, don’t you dare bring that elephant out in my classroom—”

peace and quiet is short-lived whenever the first years are around.

you manage to quiet them down with the threat of assigning an essay, allowing you a moment’s respite to massage your temples and lean back in your seat, glancing at your phone to check just how many minutes you have left with them.

a notification pops up as you do, bringing on a whole new headache.

[satoru]: send nudes?

you quickly turn your phone over so it’s screen-down, face burning as you look around to make sure no one had seen.

peace and quiet is also short-lived whenever satoru calls out sick. because the strongest sorcerer of your time…currently has a cold.

he is, predictably, very dramatic whenever he’s sick. a mild fever means he puts himself on bedrest. a sore throat means he needs to be spoon fed a very specific homemade soup.

but the worst…oh, the worst is when he has a cold.

when satoru’s sinuses are clogged, he’s an absolute menace to deal with. his sneezes shake the apartment and his whines about sinus pressure are all you hear at the dinner table.

luckily, the students have resorted to quietly bothering each other, so you slowly turn your phone back around to deal with the man child who is likely littering the living room floor with tissues.

he’s stuck at home, which means he’s got nothing to do but annoy you.

[satoru]: haha jk

[satoru]: unless…?

huffing, you quickly type back a response.

[you]: NOT funny. i’m at work.

[satoru]: so what you’re saying is you’ll send them during lunch right ;)

“miss!” itadori shouts, his arm raised. “can fushiguro come to the arcade with us after class?”

“of course,” you say. “but please don’t forget to finish your essays on cursed technique origins. it’s due on monday.”

yuuji’s practically bouncing in his seat as he grabs megumi’s arm. hear that, fushiguro? you hear as you pick up your phone. your mom said yes!

megumi, who usually comes home on the weekends, still looks to you for approval. you assure him with a small nod and smile.

sometimes you just want to wrap him up in your arms and never let go. he may have been another couple’s blessing, but ultimately he’s yours and gojo’s pride and joy. possibly the only one you have left, as it stands.

thought you’re a little sad that he won’t be home for dinner tonight, you remind yourself that he’s growing up. for as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been a sort of lone wolf. but a lone wolf is still a wolf, and a wolf needs a pack.

he’s finally found friends he’s comfortable with, and it’s good that he wants to spend time with them and vice versa.

your phone buzzes insistently in your hand.

[satoru]: pleeeeeaaaase?

[satoru]: i think it’ll really help with my recovery…

[satoru]: if this cold kills me the last thing i want to see is a picture of you

oh, that’s actually kind of—

[satoru]: nude, preferably

maybe it’s a good thing megumi won’t be home tonight. you don’t need any witnesses to the crime you’re about to commit.

[you]: what’ll help with your recovery is a visit to the infirmary.

there’s a short pause, then you watch the little bubble appear and disappear about six times.

[satoru]: shit

[satoru]: is this a scene?

you roll your eyes, waving at the kids as they head out to catch the train.

[you]: i hate you

he doesn’t answer, so you get up to hurry over to your office, shutting and locking the door behind you.

you wait a moment, opening the camera on your phone as you do so.

once the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall disappears, you start unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt—

you scream when a loud sneeze startles you, satoru suddenly appearing at your side.

he doesn’t miss a beat, plucking a tissue from your desk and blowing his nose loudly. he throws it in the general direction of the bin before slapping his palm onto your desk.

you can tell he’s attempting to be some sort of seductive, but it’s dampened bu the way he sniffles loudly, his face a little red.

“hello, doctor,” he says, a lazy grin spread across his face. “i’m here for my physical.”

“honey,” you laugh, gently cupping the sides of his face. “you need to rest.”

“but ‘m not tired,” he pouts, leaning in to nose at your neck. his skin is warm against yours, much too warm for your liking.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. “since i’m your doctor, i’m prescribing a nap.”

“a nap does sound kind of nice…”

he gets up, taking your hand and dragging you over to the couch with him. he locks you within his embrace, sighing contentedly as he presses you to his chest.

“wait, satoru i have to supervise the second years’ training—”

it’s too late. he’s already asleep, snoring loudly in your ear.

so you take out your phone and text nanami, asking if he can cover for you this afternoon.

because a sick satoru is a needy satoru, and you won’t be leaving this couch for a while.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 5 months ago

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟕) - 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, alpha!Nat, omega!reader, breeding kink, omega vers, hormone controlled sex, soft sex?

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: While on the run of a failed mission you failed to take your heat suppressions luckily Natasha is there to help

𝐀/𝐍: If you'd ask me to spoil what I'll write for half time I'd have to say it gets nerdy if you know 🙃

Natasha pulled you swifty with her as your cover had blown up in your faces, you ran through the tight alleys, feeling like prey in the eyes of your hunters. “We need to get a car” Natasha called, running in the direction of the highway. She pulled the driver out of his car not caring about stealing from a random man, this was a life or death situation. The first time in a long time you could breathe through. “Are you okay?” She asked, as she maneuvered the car through the streets.

“Yes I’m fine… just some scratches” You reassured her but she was still skeptical. “If you say so…” She mumbled under her breath, her grip on the steering wheel relaxing “We need to keep it calm for the next few days, I know a safe house around here” A few days? You couldn’t handle being without your heat suppressions for so long. You’d go into heat, while trapped in a safe house with an unmated alpha.

Being one of the few omegas in all of S.H.I.E.L.D, wasn’t easy but you learned to not show what you truly were. Always on your heat suppressions and acting like any other Beta would make your life so much easier. You couldn’t imagine working with a bunch of hormonal alphas who thought just because you weren’t mated yet, that they had the right to be creeps towards you. If you had the chance you tried to convince Hill that you’d be put on missions with betas or other omegas but it wasn’t always possible.

Sure Natasha was one of the most respectful alpha’s you knew, even though she was an infamous bachelorette. Even her self control would have a breaking point.

The safe house was a few hours away from any civilization, a few hours away from a drug store selling heat suppressions. But then again how would you explain the whole situation to Natasha, which would blow your cover.

The safe house was only a small cabin covered in the white snow falling from above. Natasha opens the door for you to reveal the small inside of the cabin, the only sounds being the quiet drops of water hitting the skin so that the pipes wouldn’t freeze. “Quite cozy” She joked, closing the door behind you.

“That’s one way of putting it” You smiled “I’ll try to make some fire maye you can look for some cans of food” She nodded opening the draws of the small kitchen counters “But I’ll have to warn you everything I cook ends up burnt” You had to laugh, a woman being a perfectionist at everything she did couldn’t cook? “Damn I wouldn’t have expected that” You piled up some of the wood in the fireplace before lighting it.

As soon as the warmth filled the room your body relaxed in an instant. Natasha heated up some soup in the cans and handed it to you, its sight was cozy as you both sat in front of the fireplace, and your hormones filled brain suddenly thought that being mates with Natasha wouldn’t be that bad, right?

You woke up bathed in sweat in the middle of the night as you felt your heat creeping up. You felt the strong urge to nest, but with what? You piled up as many pillows and blankets as you could find. Thanked god that on a rare occasion Natasha wasn’t dressed in her suit instead her clothes were neatly folded on a chair. You even found your holy grail there, her hoody and it smelled so good.

You mind was blank as you cuddled in your pile fighting the urge to hump on of the pillows, you whimpered feeling the slick run down your legs as Natasha could smell you in her sleep. She grew restless, her urges fighting through as she woke up with a confused look on her face.

“Y/N” She asked into the dark, only earning a whimper from your throat. Her curiosity got the better of her as she stood up from her bed feeling her dick harden in her boxers as she smelled your heat. “Need you alpha” you whined, your radical thinking being turned off by your need for the other woman.

“Damn, can I help you?” She whispered and you nodded eagerly, you needed nothing more in this world than her knot. “Yes” You mewled, spreading your legs for her. In her haze she didn’t think twice before kissing you. You pulled her into your pile of blankets as she wasted no time on foreplay.

She hastily pulled her boxers down to reveal her hard cock to you, she knew you were ready for her judging by the slick running down your flush thighs. “Please” You cried pulling her closer, she aligned herself with your tight hole groaning as she filled you up. Sure she had slept with other omegas but never while they were in heat. The tightness of your cunt was an addicting feeling as she let you adjust to her grid. “You feel so good” She sighed “You’re addicting” She mumbled her hips picking up as she started to fuck you.

“Natasha!” You cried, scratching over her back which only made her thrusts harder. “More!” You demanded and to your surprise she complied. “You want to be breed?! You want my pups!?” She mocked already knowing your answer. “Yes!”

Her dick thrusts against your g- spot, making you see stars as you came around her dick before she did. “Fuck I’m close; I’m gonna knot you” Her hips stilled as she filed you up with her knot, making you whimper like a bitch in heat. Her teeth sunk into your neck and she was sure that she felt a mating mark. She collapsed on top of you, after having knotted you for the first time.

The next morning she woke up with an arching head arch. She was confused after all they hadn’t had any drinks yesterday nor was she used to having hangovers. Her eyes widened as she looked down on you and the memories flooded back, she had mated you… .

@jolyssereed

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #kinktober 2024

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alaia777 · 1 month ago

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hiii!!! i read your "a boy whos jacked and kind" fic and it was amazing!!!!! could you (possibly) do a pt2 with chigiri, reo, sae, and nagi? (or any other characters you want) ty!!!!

omggg thank u, of course !! 🩷🩷

jacked and kind? — p2

ೃ༄ chigiri;

“alright, princess. if you drop me or make me look stupid, i’m cutting your hair.”

“i’ll cut my own hair before i drop you.”

“you’re such a liar.”

you both start laughing as you wait for the music to begin. you’d both wanted to try this trend for a while, but you’d been hesitant, mostly because you were worried he’d hurt his leg. every time you work out together, or even just watch him at practice, your heart beats a little harder, anxious that something might happen to him. he always reassures you that he’s fine—but still.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

when he places his hands around you to hoist you onto his shoulder, he makes sure you’re smiling. he just wants to see you happy. but as you glance down at him, you notice the grimace on his face.

“oh my god, are you alright?”

“yeah, yeah,” he mutters, trying to hold back a wince. “it’s just… you’re sitting on my hair.”

ೃ༄ reo;

“why is it taking you so long to put your hair in a ponytail?”

“can you just be patient?”

you were spending the afternoon at your boyfriend’s place, and honestly, there were so many things you could do in his enormous house. but the only thing you wanted was to try the trend your friend shared with you. it wasn’t hard to convince reo—he’d rather count every grain of sand on every beach in the world than do work for his parent’s company. he was bored and wanted to try something new, and you had just the solution.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you couldn’t help but laugh when you felt him lift you onto his shoulder. for some reason, the mix of his concentrated facial expression and how intently he was staring at his reflection was the funniest thing you’d seen all day.

“what’s so funny?” reo asked, looking up at you.

you just kept smiling, and in response, he dropped you into his arms, princess style, twirling you around effortlessly.

ೃ༄ sae;

“can you smile a little? you look like you hate your girlfriend.”

“you want me to do this or not?”

you wanted to roll your eyes so bad, but the last thing you needed was a snarky comment from sae. after what felt like an eternity, you finally convinced your boyfriend to do this trend with you—despite him repeatedly telling you how stupid it was. it took some careful planning: making sure he was in a good mood, giving him salted kombucha in the morning, getting him some salty seaweed tea, and putting on taxi driver right before he came home. he knew what you were up to, but honestly, he just wanted to get it over with.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you watched as he grabbed you by the hips and hoisted you onto his shoulder. he wanted to roll his eyes, but when he saw you smiling so stupidly, a small smirk tugged at his lips. you weren’t sure if he was smiling with you or at you, but the only thing that mattered was that your boyfriend was playing along—for you.

“well, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” you said, playfully petting his hair.

“you’re pushing it.” he muttered, and without warning, he set you down on the floor.

ೃ༄ nagi;

“this is so bothersome.”

“you know what is going to be bothersome? me making your cactus into soup.”

were you threatening your boyfriend to do this trend with you? maybe. were you actually going to hurt his precious choki? never. and he knew that. yet here he was, watching you move things around the room to prop your phone up and film this video. nagi was tall, sure, but he was also incredibly lazy when he wasn’t on the football field. honestly, you weren’t sure if he’d put any real energy into this.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you waited for him to do something, but when you glanced at him, he was just staring off into the distance like usual. you turned around and waited for him to say something, but it was like he didn’t even notice you were looking at him.

then, out of nowhere, he grabbed you by the legs and hoisted you onto his shoulder. you yelped, completely caught off guard.

“are we done?”

“… i suppose.”

he left the room with you still draped over his shoulder, heading straight for the bedroom. he dropped you onto the bed and flopped down next to you.

“time for sleep now,” he mumbled, already pulling you closer.

ೃ༄ i hope you like it !!!

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #sae itoshi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #reo mikage x reader #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #bllk fluff #blue lock x you

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amirasainz · 3 months ago

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Hey can you make one where Lewis and Readers mom are in a relationship and Reader kind of grows up with Lewis ad her stepdad. Over time she stops calling him Lewis and instead calls him Dad.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💜

The greatest title of them all

The sound of laughter echoed through the house as Marry stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup. It was a cozy Saturday afternoon, with the warm sun casting a soft glow through the windows. In the living room, a ballet video played on the TV. It was a recording of Yn’s recent performance, and even though it wasn’t perfect in her eyes, she loved watching herself dance, especially with her mom and Lew nearby.

“Mom, can we watch it again?” Yn’s voice, small and tentative, broke through the quiet.

Marry looked up with a warm smile. “Of course, sweetie. Go ahead.” She set down the spoon and wiped her hands on a dish towel.

Lewis, who had been sitting on the couch, looked over at Yn. His heart swelled with affection every time she called him by his name—‘Lew’—a title he hadn’t even dreamed of when they first met. It wasn’t always this way. In the beginning, Yn was shy, cautious of him, unsure of his place in their home. But now, as she was snuggled up with him on the couch, her tiny frame leaning into his side, Lewis felt like the luckiest man in the world.

“Are you sure about the soup? You don’t need any help?” he asked, his voice gentle, watching her stir the pot. He didn’t want to pull her away from her task, but he also wanted her to know he was there if she needed him.

She chuckled softly. “I’m good, honey. Just enjoy your time with Yn. I’ll be right here.”

And he did enjoy it. Every single moment. Because Yn had become his little girl in so many ways, and he had become the father figure she never thought she needed.

---

Two years ago, when he first started dating Marry, things had been complicated. Yn was only five at the time, and she didn’t know how to process the idea of another man being in the house. Her dad had left when she was three, and for the past two years, her only family was her mom.

At first, she had called him “Lewis.” It had been strange for her, especially when he would show up to spend time with Marry. But over time, he began to do little things for Yn, making sure she felt included, loved, and heard.

Lewis had been there for her first ballet recital, sitting proudly in the front row with a bouquet of flowers, cheering her on just like a real dad would. He didn’t need to be asked—he wanted to be there.

“Good job, sweetheart!” he had shouted excitedly when she took her final bow.

Yn had smiled shyly, but the connection between them had deepened after that day. It wasn’t just that he showed up—it was that he cared. When she wanted to go to the waterpark for her birthday, Lewis had taken her. He had watched her face light up as she slid down the water slides and played in the wave pool.

At night, when they sat down to watch movies, he’d let her pick the movie—even if it was a Barbie movie she watched for the hundredth time. It didn’t matter to him. What mattered was the smile on her face.

“Let’s have a picnic, just the three of us!” Lewis had suggested one Saturday afternoon. He laid out a blanket in the living room, and they ate sandwiches, laughing as Roscoe tried to steal a piece of ham.

But more than the big moments, it was the small ones that cemented his place in Yn’s heart.

The nights he spent waiting for her to fall asleep on the couch so they could decorate her room together.

Or when they baked cookies in the kitchen, and Lewis taught her how to mix the dough just right, making a mess and laughing the entire time.

That's when 'Lewis' turned into 'Lew'.

Sometimes, it was the quiet moments that meant the most and change everything. Like the night Yn came to him after a bad dream.

---

The night had been quiet, the house wrapped in a blanket of calm. Marry was asleep beside Lewis, but a small sound stirred him from his slumber. He heard it again—soft, a hesitant knock.

“Mom?” Yn’s voice was faint.

Lewis heart leaped in his chest. He turned toward her voice. “Hey, Yn, you okay?”

Yn’s small figure appeared in the doorway, her face tight with worry. Her eyes, wide with fear, met his. “Lew… I had a bad dream,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

Marry stirred in bed but didn’t fully wake up. Lew gently pulled back the covers, his heart aching at the sight of Yn standing there, so small and vulnerable.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he whispered, patting the empty spot beside him.

Yn climbed into the bed, curling up next to him. Her head rested on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her protectively.

“You’re safe here, okay?” Lewis whispered, his fingers running through her soft hair. “Bad dreams don’t stand a chance when you’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Thanks, Lew,” she mumbled, already beginning to relax in his arms.

He smiled down at her. And then, in that moment, something he never expected to hear passed her lips. “Dad?”

Lew’s heart skipped a beat. He held his breath, unsure of whether he had heard her right.

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here.”

It didn’t take long for Yn to fall back asleep, her hand still gripping his, but from that night on, everything had changed. The way Yn looked at him, the way she started calling him Dad instead of Lew, felt like the most sacred gift he could ever receive. It wasn’t just a title. It was the confirmation of the bond they had formed together.

He had been there for her, in every way a father could be—attending her recitals, helping her with homework, making her laugh, teaching her how to ride a bike, taking care of her when she was sick. But it wasn’t until that night, when she whispered ‘Dad’ into the quiet of the night, that he knew he had become something much more than just her mom’s boyfriend.

---

As the days passed, the bond between Lew and Yn deepened. They were inseparable—Yn seeking comfort in him when the world felt a little too big and scary. When her dad stopped picking up the phone calls, when she felt abandoned, Lewis was there. He was her constant, her rock.

One evening, as they sat down to dinner, Yn hesitated, her little hands resting on the table, fiddling nervously with her napkin. She looked up at Lewis, her eyes big with a question she wasn’t sure how to ask.

Lew met her gaze with a smile, noticing her uncertainty. “What’s on your mind, kiddo?”

Yn bit her lip, then asked softly, “Do you think my papa will ever come back?”

The question hit Lewis hard, but he knew better than to lie to her. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “But what I do know is that I’m here for you. Always.”

Yn nodded, her shoulders relaxing a little as she reached out and took his hand. “I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”

That was all Lewis needed to hear. He squeezed her hand, his heart full.

“I’ll always be here, baby,” he promised, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. “And no matter what happens, you’ll never be alone.”

Yn smiled, her trust in him unwavering. For her, Lewis was more than just a stepdad. He was her dad, the man who loved her, protected her, and gave her a sense of security that she had never known.

And for Lewis, there was no greater joy than knowing he had earned that place in her heart. He would always cherish the title of ‘Dad’—because it meant more than anything he could have ever imagined.

As they sat there, together at the dinner table, the sound of Marry’s laughter filled the room. And in that moment, Lewis knew that this—this family—was exactly where he belonged.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #xoxo babygirl 💋#lewis hamilton x daughter!reader #lewis hamilton x reader #dad!lewis hamilton #soo like... i cried a little bit while writing this #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #george russell x reader #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz x reader

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demonic0angel · 15 days ago

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For whatever reasons, Jazz becomes Damian's foster parent for about a year.

(May I introduce you to the ‘Damian grows up as a Fenton’ AU? XD However, this ask won’t be related to that AU)

Damian felt cold.

“… I’m going back?”

Bruce frowned. “Yes. Of course, you’re going back to Gotham.”

Damian could not help the glance that he took by his side, where the presence of Jazz was absent. Bruce had caught him while he was out with friends, and he had been forced into a conversation with his father for the first time in a year.

Yes, a year. A year since he had been tossed out of the manor for “protection” and put into foster care. It had been hell at first, but Jazz was the most patient, rewarding, and kindest person he had ever met, possibly even above Alfred or Richard.

And now he would be separated from her again.

Damian was silent before he then said slowly, “I see.” Shadow brushed against his legs, ever watching with its wide eyes and Damian could see Bruce recoil at the sight of the strange dog. He resisted a smile and then reached downwards to pick them up. “When am I expected to be leaving?”

“In a week,” Bruce said, grimacing. “We’ll talk to your… guardian and thank her for her assistance.”

Yes. Because taking care of him and showing him proper familial love was merely assistance.

Damian’s eyes were half lidded. “I see.”

Bruce stared at him and opened his mouth. But after a moment, he didn’t say anything and then just turned around to leave. Damian watched him go and when he was assured that no one was looking, looked down at Shadow and said, “Take me back to Jazz.”

Shadow did so with a whoosh of its powers and Damian dropped into the kitchen, where Jazz stood in front of the stove, blinking at the sight of him.

“Damian!” She said, beaming at him, cheerful as ever. “Welcome home! Are you hungry? Go wash your hands, I tried making potato soup today.”

Damian gently lowered Shadow to the ground and then strode over to throw himself into Jazz’s embrace, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face into her stomach. She startled but then quickly dropped to the ground in a squat, holding him carefully.

“What’s wrong, Damian? Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?” She continued holding him in a hug and her vanilla-ocean fragrance was a comfort as always.

“…. My father approached me. He wants me to go back and he said that he’ll talk to you.”

Jazz froze. Then carefully, she asked, “Do you want to go back?”

Did he?

He loved being Robin and in a way, he had loved his siblings. They had pushed for him to stay but Bruce’s orders had been absolute and whatever he had said to them seemed to have reluctantly convinced them to let Damian go. They still secretly visited and sent him photos on the occasion, but Damian did not miss Gotham City.

He liked being here. He liked the schools here. He liked the curricular courses and the many ghosts. He liked his new friends and being a civilian and walking around town to find blob ghosts and get ice cream on the weekend with his foster uncles and aunts. He liked Shadow and Danny and Dante and Ellie and Samantha and Tucker and everyone else.

And most of all, he liked being with Jazz.

“……… no,” he said reluctantly and then the flood broke through the dam. Jazz never judged him for his acts of weaknesses, and even now, all she did was wrap her arms around him and pull him into a cradled hug, stroking his hair and back as he sobbed into her shoulder.

He couldn’t help but admit quietly, “I want to be here with you.”

The admission burned but it was true. He had never been happier than when he was with Jazz.

Jazz didn’t pull back, only squeezing him tighter. “Then I’ll fight for you. Whatever it takes, alright? You can stay here with me, as long as you want, Dami.”

Damian nodded, tears still flowing from his eyes as he felt the comforting press of Shadow against his side and Jazz’s hold completely encompassing him. He ducked his head into her neck and went slack. She took all of his weight and just held him like he was a babe, tightly, securely, protectively.

The words, ‘I’ll fight for you,’ were a comfort and a promise that he had never gotten before.

But oddly enough, he completely believed in it.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom x dc #dp x dc crossover #ask #anon ask #jazz fenton #damian wayne #jazz + damian duo #jazz has a shadow friend #ty for the ask <3

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

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Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps.

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?”

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse.

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.”

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains.

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders.

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.”

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say.

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?”

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.”

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.”

“They were not.”

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?”

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.”

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?”

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?”

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.”

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it.

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?”

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.”

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?”

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry.

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist when you get up to go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.”

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.”

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.”

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.”

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.”

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

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mintwithchoco · 18 days ago

Text

Coming Down

tripleS Jiyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 5142 words

Categories: smut, fluff-ish, tsundere!jiyeon aka way too many pabos

Inspired from:

“You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Her first few words take you by surprise, but you're unfazed. She's not wrong, you are pathetic.

You chuckle slightly. “Wow, straight to the point, huh.”

“Shut up. It's that time again, isn't it?”

“What time?”

You heard her loud sigh. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“I…” You stop for a while, reorganizing your words. “I just need to hear your voice.”

“Get to the point. What do you want?”

You can hear the faint music playing in the background. She could’ve ignored your call, and yet she still picks up. Maybe amidst her cold words, there’s still some space left inside of her heart for you.

“Can I come over?”

A few seconds of silence, but it’s deafening to your ears. Regret slowly creeps into your soul, before the voice comes back, softer this time.

“Door’s unlocked. You got five minutes.”

Though as pathetic as you may seem—drunkenly stumbling to get inside of Jiyeon's apartment—a sense of relief washes over you in an instant, and you ask for nothing more.

Decision-making is not your strongest ability. Numerous times you have found yourself not being able to grasp the concept of reality in your actions, and you yourself don't know the exact cause. It's been this way since you first deluged yourself in that devilish liquid, tantalizing at best for its flavor, yet drives you to your worst, with each experience making you fall deeper and deeper into madness.

Luckily, unlike others, you have a lifeline.

Jiyeon sighs as she looks at your lifeless movements in the doorway, trying your best to enter the living room. “You look like shit.”

“I know,” you simply reply before crashing into the couch. “My head fucking hurts.”

Jiyeon throws you a shade before leaving to the kitchen, “Isn’t that a normal thing for you?”

Silence filled the air as the last few words left from Jiyeon’s mouth. You’re dumbfounded, though you couldn't agree more with the points she made. It's not like it’s the first time she has flamed you like this—it’s the opposite actually. Somehow this time, it finally breaks through your intoxicated self, instead of you just brushing it off as an oopsie.

“Yeah, you’re right. Can’t even get my own shit together.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “Your eyes are finally open now?”

“It’s been open for a while. It’s just—fuuuuck.” That sharp stinging pain in your head strikes again. “Ugh. I tried Jiyeon, I really tried.”

She comes back to you with a glass of water in her hand. “You’re not trying hard enough. Whatever you’re doing, it’s not working. Drink.”

You witness her going back to the kitchen after placing the glass in front of you. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna quit.”

Your nonchalant remark earns a faint blush on the girl’s cheeks, but she immediately throws it away. “Pabo! It's not like I’m your mom or anything.” She's lucky you didn't notice it. Not that you can anyway.

As you lay your head on one of the pillows on the sofa, Jiyeon begins to prepare the soup to cure your hangover. She’s not the best cook, but she knows that you’ll eat anything in this state, as long as it's warm. It didn’t take very long for the house to smell heavenly all around, even though she’s just throwing anything in the pot that will fill you up.

“You really don’t have to,” you say as you realize what she’s doing.

“I know,” she simply answers. “I just wanna get this shit done with.”

You softly smile. “Thanks.”

She continues on with her cooking, tasting and adjusting the broth multiple times so it’s suited to your taste. You eye her every action from time to time, and it hints at her willingness to treat you, even if the words that left her lips say the opposite. That's how your relationship has been with Ji Suhyeon over the past few years. She's one hell of a character to bear with, but she's always there for you whenever you're at your lowest.

Vice versa? Nope, it's always her that takes care of you.

After a few more minutes of tinkering, Jiyeon brings the finished dish—an aromatic soup filled with leftover meat and veggies—over to the living room’s table. “Hey, get up. Your food’s ready.” No response—your head’s still a big mess. She then proceeds to shake you by the arm. “Yah! Wake up!”

You got up almost immediately. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Damn, what got you so fucked up?” Jiyeon asks as she settles herself to the couch beside you.

You pick up the spoon and start eating. “Like usual.”

“Oh, really? Then why’d you show up? If it’s just another one of your normal nights, you can just sleep outside.” Jiyeon scoffs.

“Fuck, this is so good.” You take a spoonful of the soup and point it to her. “Here.”

Slightly taken aback, she snaps. “It’s your food, just eat it.”

“But I insist.”

“And I don’t wanna.”

“Oh, come on. Just one bite.”

She clicks her tongue, feeling rather annoyed at this side of you. “Fucking—” At this point, she’s pretty much done with your bullshit. “You better tell me what happened.”

As soon as you nod your head, she leans forward and takes the food into her mouth. “I thought you would just grab the spoon off my hands.”

It’s a second hit on what’s inside her heart—her ears are now red from the embarrassment. By remembering that this is not the real you, she’s still able to keep her true feelings under control, kicking your feet as a way to let it go. “Pabo! Hurry up and tell me what happened!”

“Ugh, fine.” You rub your temple, trying your best to remember the events that happened beforehand. “I was stressed out. Felt like shit. Then my workmates just brought me to the club again.”

“Ironically, you still feel like shit,” she chuckles.

“That’s what I said to them before.” You continue, “But they were my seniors, so I can’t really dip out. Can’t even remember some of their names. But then suddenly, everything felt like a doozy. Like—someone just injected me with dopamine. I-” You pause for a while, hesitant to say the next few lines. “I got high. So high, until I can’t feel myself anymore.”

Jiyeon immediately connects the lines. “So once it wears off, you can't control yourself, feel lonely, and you proceed to disturb me in the middle of the night.”

“You could just not pick up the call,” you point out. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, and expect you to be just fine? No thanks.” Jiyeon shakes her head, and inhales a sharp breath. “Aren’t you sick of this already?”

“Of what? Your cooking? Hell no, this is delicious!”

She slaps you on the shoulder. “Pabo-ya! I’m serious! You always do this, pushing yourself to the edge for your own pleasure. And then when it gets too dark, you find me, like I’m some sort of angel that heals you.”

She’s not wrong. You always want her when you’re coming down.

You look down upon the bowl, half of its content has already been consumed. “I just… I don't know what else to do. You’re the only one that’s on my mind.”

“You—” Strike three. This is not good for Jiyeon’s heart. It’s racing so much, her body is heating up amidst the slight cold air of the room. In a pinch, she brushes her hair back, acting nonchalant while you continue to eat. “O-Of course, I’m your only true friend after all.”

“A true friend who’s so good at cooking. Have I ever told you that?” Another slap on your arm, and you hiss in pain. “Jeez, chill out.”

Jiyeon rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Alright then, what if I don't pick up? What are you going to do?”

“I’ll probably just… die in a ditch somewhere, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Or probably get robbed by some gang.”

Jiyeon looks at you sternly. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“I do.” You gulp nervously. “I really don’t know how to stop.”

Her heart rate finally calms down, but now she’s frustrated. It’s been swelling up inside her, ever since you came through that front door. She cannot stand to be stuck in this loop anymore. To see how much of a mess you are, suffering in your unwanted addiction, every month, every week, every day. It's getting out of hand at this point, so Jiyeon knows that she needs to do more than this.

The only thing that's getting in her way is her true feelings.

For the longest time, she hated that she still had feelings for you genuinely, despite your reckless behaviors. You were once her favorite comfort zone—every time you both hung out, there’s not a single second where the air around you is awkward. There will always be a topic of interest or an activity that the both of you enjoy doing. Overtime, her heart bloomed, but she kept it to herself—it wasn’t the right time yet.

Everything changed however once you got a new job, a company with a totally different vibe as you’re used to. Meanwhile, Jiyeon continued on with her life, studying in college while keeping up with her ballet routines. You both eventually grew apart, with you unbeknowingly falling into insanity, while she’s keeping the flame of passion alive. The lack of free time is also to be blamed after all, and she does hold some regret for it.

Before her facade begins to fade away, she gets up from her seat. Sighing to herself, she says, “Just put the bowl in the sink once you’re done. You can sleep here, but when morning comes, you leave.” Just before she leaves for her room, she looks back at you with a soft yet saddened gaze. “Figure this shit out on your own. I can’t always be there for you.”

“Wait, Jiyeon—” The door then slams itself shut, leaving you in the living room all alone. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

With the ambient silence being your partner of the night, you quickly finish the meal and place everything she brought into the sink. The drowsiness now takes its place as soon as you’re back on the couch—it suddenly feels way more comfier and warmer than before. You stare blankly at the ceiling, thoughts running in your head as much as before. But one thing’s for certain—she still cares for you, and that’s enough for you to feel alive.

“Thank you, Jiyeon.”

—

Jiyeon presses her back against the door, with her hand close to her chest. She hears the faint words that he uttered a few seconds ago, and that is what breaks her apart. Her knees are the first to give out, forcing her to sit down abruptly. Her heart is still pounding fast, and her breathing is growing rapidly.

God, she hates him so much for this.

She had promised herself not to care about him anymore.

Promised herself not to let him back into her life.

Promised herself to forget about him.

And yet, she’s breaking into tears for him again. It’s a mix of emotions for her, and honestly, it’s getting exhausting. Just because she wants to act all tough around him, she hurts her true feelings at the same time, shoving it so far down so that he’ll never see that side of her.

That side of her that truly loves him, and still has a hope for him to change.

—

Around an hour later, Jiyeon enters the living room once again. Her mind was too loud to be ignored, until she couldn't fall asleep. As expected, you’re sound asleep due to the hearty meal from earlier. Her footsteps gradually become softer the closer she gets to inspect you snoring away while hugging one of her prized possessions in the house—a body-sized swan pillow.

If you were awake, she’d definitely be smacking your head multiple times while complaining about how it’ll get all dirty with your drool.

Instead, it’s a gentle smile on her lips.

Seeing you in a much calmer state brings comfort to her eyes. She suddenly recalls a time where you accidentally slept in the car while waiting for her to get ready late at night. It's a sweet memory for her—you going out of your way just to spend some time with her, no matter how exhausted you were.

But those were all memories from the past. There's close to no chance that it would ever happen again, given your current state.

She comes by the kitchen and checks the sink. Oh, he actually listened. Thought he would wash them himself, she thought in her mind.

Soon after, Jiyeon decides to just wash the dishes right away. Maybe it can help her to feel a little tired, distract her from overthinking about you, and hopefully fall asleep. She starts off by cleaning some utensils and small items first, before moving on to the bigger ones such as the bowls and pots she used.

Unaware to her however, is that you’re already awake.

Even when she’s not making any noise, the sounds of the tap water splashing against the sink and the bowls that clang whenever it’s placed anywhere is enough to disturb your slumber. With heavy eyes, you look behind towards the kitchen, and her figure is seen by the counter. Instinctively, you get up and walk over to her, who still wasn’t aware of your presence as she continues her chore, humming away a song of her favorite.

Another thought suddenly crosses her mind.

Would it be funny if he actually wakes up and hugs me from behind?

“Jiyeon-ah.”

Jiyeon jumps in surprise. “Wha—” Before she realized it, you wrap your arms around her from behind, and press your head against her back. “H-Hey, what the fuck are you d-doing?!”

“Thank you for being here with me.”

Your words resonate in her ear. Her spine tingles in response. She starts to resist your embrace by moving her body violently. “Aish, stop it!”

“Why? Do you hate me?”

Fuckfuckfuckfuck! “No! Y-You’re just drunk, go back—”

You hug her tighter, and she reacts with a gasp. The warmth of her body is so soothing. “I just wanna say my thanks.”

Her legs begin to tremble out of nervousness. Her heart goes into overdrive. Her jaw clenches. “T-There's no need to, just get off—”

All of the sudden, you turn her around by the waist and close the distance in between the both of you. Your lips then finally touch one another, and it sends Jiyeon’s mind into a blank. Her body tenses up under you, while you enjoy the softness of her lips, and the enticing smell of her fragrance even at the latest of night. Eventually, you snap back into reality.

You quickly move away, your cheeks blushing madly. “Fuck,” Your hands then left her waist. Your eyes blink multiple times, trying to make up words in your head. “I’m sorry. I... I should just leave—”

Jiyeon stops you by holding your arm before you step away. “Don’t,” Her eyes are now filled with fervor, staring at you intensely. “Stay here with me.”

There’s no turning back now. She’s letting it all out.

She takes the first step, reaching out to your neck and pulling you closer to initiate another kiss. You obviously ease into it—half of your consciousness is a blurry mess, so your body just follows along with whatever she wants. You can’t deny it either when Jiyeon deepens the kiss, fading away all of your resistance and exciting you inside.

Her body grows warmer with each small peck given, and thankfully, she’s near the counter whilst all of this is happening, so it’s easy for her to keep standing. Luckily, you notice a better solution, by lifting her up to sit on the counter.

She yelps in surprise for a second, before getting back into another makeout session, this time with your tongue dancing together in each other’s mouth. It’s a weird addiction, even though she hated the remnants of whatever you drank hours before in your mouth. She can’t keep her hands to herself as well, as it roams around your back and your arms, feeling each muscle that you’ve worked hard to maintain.

There are no words exchanged over the couple of minutes you both make out, only breathless moans and clothes rustling are the sounds that fills the small space. But then, you escalate the intensity by trailing your kisses down her neck and collarbones. Jiyeon throws her head back as you start to suck on the smooth skin, leaving gentle hickeys that hopefully no one can notice.

“Fuck, please.” Jiyeon moans.

You stop for a while to catch some breath and look upon the view right in front of you. Even through your intoxicated vision and your impulsive behaviors, you’re still falling in love with her, and it has always been this way. Especially when she’s in this red sundress that highlights some of her best features, most notably her slim figure that she got from her ballet career. Your eyes are having a feast, full of wonder and appreciation for how gorgeous Jiyeon is.

“You’re so pretty, Jiyeon.”

“T-Thanks.” She blushes and looks down, failing to keep an eye contact on you. It makes you swoon for her even more, as this side of her has never been revealed to you before. Suddenly, she whines, “Hurry up, before I go back to my room!”

“Right, s-sorry.”

You decided to start with the closest part that you can reach, which is her ample breasts that conforms too well with the outfit she’s in. You're hesitant at first, but when you meet with her begging eyes once again, it shows that she wants this just as much as you do, maybe even more.

“Mmmh, fuck,” she moans as your hands cups the irresistible pair, kneading them gently while teasing the hard nipples, visibly poking through the fabric.

Jiyeon has sought for a better ending every night that you came over. Maybe a promise to make up for everything you've done, or a sudden confession, crying out for her help. She never expected that this would be it—being in heat under him as he treats her body like an art piece, worshipping every single part of it. The heat between her thighs is unbearable, and it elevates when you pull down on the top of her dress and wrap your lips around her right nipple, licking and sucking it subtly.

“O-Oh my god, yes.” Her eyelids flutter as the massive amount of dopamine goes through her brain.

After spending a few minutes on her tits, you move down to her lower half, and her thighs rub themselves together in response to your proximity. She bites her lower lip when you begin to spread her legs and lift up her dress, uncovering her pink panties with a wet spot right in the middle of it.

You can only utter praises at how pretty and cute Jiyeon is, especially now with her whole figure being laid out for you to see. The closer you get in between her legs, the more you feel breathless. Your hot breath grazes over her thighs and her clothed heat, sending shivers down her spine.

“Jiyeon-ah, I’m gonna take it off, okay?”

Even a simple nod of consent from her is so fucking adorable at this point. You waste no time pulling down the thin panties and throwing it away somewhere, finally revealing her pussy to your eyes, glistening with slickness. Your mouth waters once it’s in your sight, prompting you to gulp down some saliva and lick your lips, the thought of taking Jiyeon’s body for the night is making you grow hard down below. But for now, you have to finish what you have started.

“T-Touch me more, please.” she pleads.

Jiyeon twitches as soon as your fingers trails over the wet slit, drawing circles to let her leak more. You bring the finger that is stained with her nectar into your mouth, tasting the sweetest part of her. Eventually, your thirst overpowers your patience, and your lips latch upon her pussy right before you can tease her any further.

“Oh, fuck—” She frantically looks for something to hold, and her hands grip upon your hair in an instant. “Keep going!”

Your tongue comes into the play next, lapping up all of her juices, its pace being motivated by her lustful moans. Even with a steady grip on her thighs, Jiyeon’s legs still uncontrollably shake around you, yet it didn’t stop you from stimulating her further. You kept a constant rhythm of both sucking and flicking at her sensitive spots, before finally adding your fingers to the work.

Amidst the difficulties you’re facing—your knees pressing against the cold hard floor, trying to be on the same level as her, her strong pull on your scalp that pains you so much, especially with your headache, and the slight tightness inside your pants that is caused by your prominent erection—you’re still able to persevere through, now thrusting two digits inside of Jiyeon’s cunt. She closes her eyes, her head falls back and her moaning gets louder and clearer, the pleasure slowly but surely is going to reach its limit. You can feel how her walls convulse each time your fingers go in deep, until at one point, it grazes against her g-spot. At the same time, your thumb is able to tease her clit by pressing and circling around it, resulting in an eventual climax.

Jiyeon cries out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming!”

She cums hard. Her body shivers violently as it happens, holding your head to make you drink up everything that she’s letting out. You try your best to take it all in, but you lose some breath and choke as you’re swallowing her juices. Her grasp on you finally weakens overtime, letting you stand back up and witness her look post-orgasm. Safe to say that you’re not disappointed at all, the way her chest heaves desperately for air and her hair that is now in a much messier state is hypnotizing at best.

You plant both of your hands beside her on the table. “You okay, Jiyeon?”

“Y-Yeah,” Her arms are around your neck once again. “I-I want more.” She then hugs you, her eye contact filled with desperation. “I want you.”

A fire burns up inside you. You immediately carry her into your arms and bring her over to the couch, your bed just a few minutes ago. She spontaneously straddles your lap, and dives into your lips for another kiss, while her hips start to grind on your bulge.

“Fuck, Jiyeon-ah…” you moan.

“You—mmmh, feel so big,” Jiyeon gets closer to your ear, and with a breathy voice, she asks, “Can you show it to me, please?”

There’s no need for you to nod or say yes. She moves away from you, and you swiftly take off both of your pants and underwear. Your erection stands tall at last, released from its confines. Jiyeon blushes upon seeing it for the very first time, even more so when she’s back on your lap, with it being so close to her pussy.

“Wow, you’re—” She giggles cutely as she strokes it gently, “You’re big.”

“And you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore. I need it.” Jiyeon lifts herself and lines up her folds with your shaft, its tip leaking out with precum. You tease her slit with your tip by grabbing the base of your cock, rubbing it in circles to make her yelp.

“You’re so wet, Jiyeon-ah.”

“Shut up—ahh! Now, just lay there, and le—mmh—let me fuck you.”

Now, it’s her turn. Thanks to her wetness, she descends easily on your shaft, the tip being the first part to enter her insides. Her mouth gapes wider the lower she gets, until she stops in her tracks halfway through. This feeling of being so full is obviously her first, so it's fair that she's overwhelmed.

“Holy shit,” you groan when she sinks fully on your cock, forcing your head to snap back. Meanwhile, Jiyeon’s body tenses up once again, screaming silently as she cums for the second time, drenching your cock with slickness. “Did you just—”

She collapses onto you, “S-Sorry… I came again.”

You calm her down by stroking her back and planting a kiss on her lips. “It’s okay. Slowly, baby.”

With her hands on your chest to stabilize herself, she begins to move her hips, her face contorting with each inch of you exploring her insides. You grit your teeth over the mix of pain and pleasure from the tightness of her walls around you, and her nails digging into your skin, desperately holding on for the ride of her life. Visible sweat is plastered on your forehead, as it becomes a challenge for you to not reach your peak this early.

Eventually, her thrusts pick up in speed, right when her moans start to increase in volume. Jiyeon has truly lost control over her body, but it is what she craves for, and she doesn’t intend to stop. If this is what will spark that change inside of you, then it was worth breaking her tough persona for. But truth be told, she doesn’t need to worry, because the feeling is mutual.

“It feels so good Jiyeon-ah, keep going…”

Your hands snake towards her waist, guiding her into you while constantly giving her praises. You know that it’s working by how drenched your crotch feels from her juices, so you carry on while peppering kisses over the parts that you can reach. You can also imagine how good the view would look from the front, how hypnotizing her ass looks bouncing up and down your cock, rippling with each of her thrusts.

“Almost there,” you warn Jiyeon. “Where—”

Jiyeon suddenly lunges forward and rests her head on your shoulder. “Inside, please, I need it.”

You wish that you could stop time at this point, because you expect that you can never get this feeling again. Nevertheless, the pressure inside you needs to be released soon, so you began fucking up into her as well, playing off of her fast rhythm. Her body quakes through your powerful thrusts, crying out incoherent words that describe her frantic euphoria. You suddenly feel a rough spot grazing over your shaft constantly, and it drives you even closer to your climax.

“Jiyeon-ah!”

A loud guttural groan left your throat. Your hips stop in its tracks, and you force the same onto Jiyeon by a strong grip on her ass, filling her up to the brim with ropes of your semen, deep inside her womb. As Jiyeon whines away in pleasure, falls onto your torso and hugs you tightly, the orgasm continues for a few more seconds, before it ends with the last spurt, adding to the extreme amount inside of her. All of your muscles relax as you lean back on the couch, sweaty and panting heavily.

“Thank you, Jiyeon, thank you for taking care of me...” you uttered weakly. In between breaths, your melting brain implies you to say, “I promise, I’ll change, for you.”

Jiyeon comes alive upon hearing your words. “R-Really?”

You nod, but your eyelids start to feel heavy. Without pulling out of her or moving to a better position, you immediately black out, the exhaustion from everything finally comes to an effect. Jiyeon realizes that you’ve fallen asleep, though she doesn't proceed to pull herself away as expected, and instead snuggles along into the crook of your neck.

“Good night, honey.”

—

It's a new day.

The bright sunlight beaming at your face wakes you up from the deep slumber. Your eyes still feel heavy, and your head is still a huge mess. As you get up slowly and scan your surroundings, you realize that something is off.

You’re not in your house.

The gravity of the situation finally fills your mind. You look around the familiar living room and notice that the balcony is open.

She’s there.

Regret fills your heart instantly. But you’re ready to take the responsibility. It’s your fault after all.

With a heavy sigh, you walk over to the balcony.

Jiyeon is enjoying the scenery with a cup of coffee in her hand. You can't really tell what she's thinking from afar, but she seems calm and rather happy. Like nothing ever happened last night.

Before you can enter the balcony, she notices you first, “Good morning.”

“M-Morning, Jiyeon.”

Still looking out to the view, she says, “There's some coffee in the kitchen. Treat yourself.”

You scratch your nape, feeling a little awkward and confused at her behavior. This wasn't the Jiyeon that you know. “You're not gonna lash out on me or anything?”

“I’ve done enough.”

“What?”

Her face expresses disappointment, as she sighs and finally looks at you. “Pabo-ya, don't you remember what happened last night?”

“Uhh,” you hesitate. “We fucked.”

Her cheeks flushed red in an instant. “That’s not what I was pointing to! Pabo.”

“S-Sorry, I can't remember much details. My head is still in a blur.”

“Goddamnit.”

After placing her cup on the table, she gets closer to you and leans her head on your chest. Your eyes widen in shock as she buries her face into you more. “J-Jiyeon?”

“You promised me that you’ll stop hurting yourself, to change.” she says as she looks up to you.

The view of Jiyeon in your embrace sends butterflies in your stomach. Her visuals have always been a heart stealer for anyone. Not to mention, you feel a sense of warmth when looking upon her eyes. It floods you with even more regret, realizing how much she has done for you, just to keep your heart afloat.

“Sorry. I’ll try my best. As long as—”

Jiyeon smiles, “I’ll always be there for you.”

Your arms instinctively wraps itself around her figure, and she melts into you, hugging you back tighter. In that moment, you place a hope inside your heart, tying the promise that you swear in front of Jiyeon. That is, to throw away your bad behaviors and strive to become a better person for yourself, and for her.

“By the way, do you know what day it is?”

You check your watch, and your heart sinks. “13 February…”

Jiyeon pouts her lips. “Mhm.”

“Shit, I didn't get you anything for your birthday.”

“It's alright,” She kisses you on the lips. “I’ll take last night as my gift.”

“Well, we can do it again if you want,” you whisper in her ear.

“S-Stop that!” You giggle away at her flustered reaction.

“Happy birthday, Jiyeon.”

===========================================

note; shut up, i know i'm a little late to the party, but happy birthday to our swan princess jiyeon! i had this draft sitting in the basement for a while, and figured now is the perfect time to kind of kill force myself to write it out. didn't think that i could cram over 5k, but it is completely unedited because i wanted to finish it quick lmao

btw there will be another story coming out pretty soon, which is the one that i have been working on for a fuckton of time. it's my longest one yet, so i hope you guys will look forward to it!

as always, thanks for reading, and hope yall have a beautiful day! <3 i'm gonna go to sleep now it's 2 am help-

#triples smut #jiyeon smut #triples #jiyeon #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #male reader #reader insert

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suempu · 9 months ago

Note

How about a blind reader and thistle

Like thistle met them by accident and now they just keep them around because reader makes them happy

gn + human, mage reader + can be platonic or not

first off all, he’s fucking confused cause how the hell did you even end up in the dungeon? thistle first finds out about your existence when you accidentally stumble upon him after his confrontation with laios’ party.

he immediately puts up his guard when he hears your footsteps before you gasp in surprise.

“hello! wow, i didn’t think there would be another person down this deep...” you smile, staff clicking on the stone tiles.

he’s taken aback before asking you questions warily, to which he finds out you had some sort of echolocation ability. you have no clue that he had a sour expression on his face, assuming he only had a gruff voice from the aggressive way he talks.

you normally go dungeon crawling with your party but decided to walk around while they recuperate on the floor above. honestly, how did you even survive? what kind of idiot decides to take a casual walk in a dungeon? on the floor the red dragon was, no less. thistle thinks. you were lucky you missed it.

the two of you sit after you’ve offered him some food and snacks from your pack. he tried to refuse but you just kept on insisting.

thistle is interested in the foggy look in your eyes, unabashedly staring at your face after finding out you couldn’t see him.

you both sit on the floor as you munch on your bread, occasionally asking him questions and making conversation.

after that night, he’s curious about your whereabouts and everything about you, oftentimes sending out a creature to spy observe you. its been a long time since he has found good company, and to be completely honest, he’s lonely.

thistle came to know that your party has disbanded after eavesdropping with his creatures, the members finding different jobs and passions.

to your surprise, he appears again while you’re out camping on the second floor. you smile once you realize its your mysterious friend, eagerly offering him soup he couldn’t taste and a space for sleeping which he didn’t need. but he thanks you nonetheless.

thistle finds peace around you, the only person he could call a companion after so many years of isolation. if he’s in a decent mood, he’ll bring out his lute to play tunes while you hum.

conversations with you are enjoyable, you both find a good harmony of back and forth, discussing various topics such as nature, magic, and his hobbies.

“you write poems? that’s amazing. read it to me sometime?”

“i’m not sure you’d like it. it’d probably make you cry.”

you smile assuredly. “i’m sure it’s great! don’t sell yourself short!”

“you’re facing the wrong way. i’m on your left.”

“oh!”

you two grow closer once he lets you touch his face. the curiosity of what he looked like came out in a question as you whisper it to him unsurely.

thistle is hesitant at first, but your amazed gasps and the gentle touches of your palm against his cheek made his heart ache. how long has it been since someone had held him? talked to him? how long has he went without the softness and comfort of another being?

you caress his eyelids, nose, and ears while smiling, committing the feeling of his face to your mind.

“you’re beautiful. thank you for trusting me enough to do that.”

“how do you know? that i’m beautiful.” he murmurs, looking at the floor in contempt.

“i can feel it.” with a hand on your chest, you tell him wholeheartedly.

thistle allows himself to laugh, reaching out to tilt your chin at his direction. “you’re looking the wrong way again.”

you pout, “well, i can’t look or see at all, mind you!”

#thistle x reader #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #thistle #thistle dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi thistle

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chiumii · 2 months ago

Text

in sickness and in health ~ sim jaeyun x reader

౨ৎ inspiried by this request ! ♡ .⋆。⊹ ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 제이크 ] ☆ in which your lovely husband decides to take care of you when you are sick, in more ways than just one

word count ; 1.8k

softdom! jake x sick! reader drabble. sleepy fingering , Jake is so so sweet gag me w a fork , established marriage , praise , begging , hickeys / markings , begging , slight daddy kink , more .

as you hear the front door open and close, you begin to stir into consciousness after being in and out of sleep for the past few hours. your nose is clogged as your throat feels raw and sore, your head feels like a hollow balloon and your entire body aches. you had found the strength to get up out of bed and change into warmer clothes - settling on one of jake’s larger hoodies simply because it had the familiar scent of his cologne lingering on the fabric, and a pair of sweat pants that were two sizes too big.

you had fallen asleep on his side of the bed, missing the familiar warmth of his body that brought you indescribable comfort every night. your eyes flutter open, instantly finding the faint figure of a silhouette lingering in the door way. your arms reach out on instinct, jake’s figure slowly coming into view as he begins to take his suits jacket off - hanging it on a hanger before putting it back up in his closet. you smile at your husband , a soft pout prominent on your lips. jake chuckles at you before he puts his hand on your forehead, checking to see how hot you were.

“are you feeling any better baby?” you shake your head no with a shrug of your shoulders, a stinging sensation forming in the back of your nose. jake inwardly smiles at you, his eyes watching your face contort into squinted eyes and lips slightly ajar - the face you normally make when you try to force a sneeze out.

after you sneeze a few times, he kisses the top of your forehead longingly before peeling away from you

“i’m sorry sweetheart, do you need anything?” your husband asks you as he begins to unbutton his collared button up shirt, the sight of his forearms exposed making you feel all sorts of things after being left alone all day confined to your bed. you sit up slightly, your eyes gawking at him as he begins to strip himself of his clothes.

“i dunno, maybe now that you’re home ..” you say quietly, but jake hears you as clear as day. he spins around, the first half of his shirt undone and his nice black dress pants unbuttoned and zipped all the way down. your face heats up at his disheveled appearance, drinking in the delicious sight. Jake can tell by the look on your face that you want one thing and one thing only; knowing you like the back of his own hand. jake chuckles at you before sitting down at the foot of the bed, his hand coming up to rub comforting circles on your calf.

“baby, you’re sick. we can’t” he pouts , tilting his head to the side as he speaks. you huff and cross your arms over your chest, turning your head in order to look away from him. you sniff your nose, finding it difficult to breathe in.

“oh honey, don’t be a brat. i’m going to go heat you up some soup and i’ll be back. after that i’ll run you a bath and we can sit together okay?” your lips remain in a pout, still not turning your head to look over at him. jake sighs at your lack of response, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your calf through the warm blanket.

“baby, i need you to answer me” you huff again, finally deciding on turning your head to face him fully. you look down at your lap, your fingers fidgeting with one another as you remain pouty-faced. you’ve been left alone all day with your thoughts being your only source of company. every time you got on your phone; your head would start to hurt.

throughout the entire day, your mind was filled with jake and jake alone; how well he takes care of you in so many more ways than just one. how he goes to work in order to fuel your shopping addiction, how he makes you your favorite dishes and runs to the store to get you medicine when you’re sick- and especially when he’s buried between your thighs, his fingers reaching so deeply inside you, jake’s name dripping from your tongue.

you were too tired to touch yourself, and fuck the way jake’s hand lightly gripped your jaw in order to tilt your head up this morning to give you a good-bye kiss was the cherry on top.

your face flushes a deep shade of red as you look up at your husband through your eyelashes, a sigh escaping your mouth. jake tilts his eyebrows up at you, amusement flowing through his veins.

“been thinking about you all day… and you come home looking like this, it makes me feel.. i don’t know. crazy…” jake smirks at your words, his free hand coming to rest on the bed behind him as he leans backwards, his eyes racking down your figure.

“what have you been thinking about love?” you whine in frustration, not wanting to elaborate. you kick his thigh that rests next to your foot jokingly, flustered out of your mind.

“uhm… how well you take care of me, all the time. ‘nd how bad i’ve been needing you…” you speak honestly. the two of you haven’t done anything recently because of your fever and sickness, jake being caught up in the worry of hurting you . jake smiles fondly at you, his heart swelling in adoration and pride. he knows your words are the truth; everything he does- he does it for you. he’s your biggest supporter in everything you accomplish, and he would take care of you always.

"yeah? how do you need me pretty?" he asks, leaning down to crawl over your smaller frame - making you sink further into the mattress below you in silence. jake takes your lack of response with a small smirk that spreads slyly across his face, one of his hands coming to trail its way up your thigh in order to find its way under the blanket.

"where do you need me baby?" he asks once more, your breathing coming out in ragged, shallow breaths. your eyes look up into his, pleading with parted lips.

"here?" he asks, his fingers coming in contact with your clothed heat making a whimper drip off your full lips. you hum in response, your head slowly nodding up and down.

"yes please.." you say under your breath quietly. your pussy pulsates at the contact. jake smiles down at you, pressing his forehead against yours. he begins to massage slow, concentrated circles through your sweats, making your yes fall closed. after a moment of agonizing teasing, he pushes his hand under your sweats, making your stomach flip in nervousness.

"please.." another plea sounds from just under him. jake's hand makes its way down to your panties before pulling them to the side in order to snake his cool fingers through the folds of your wet pussy. your back arches off the mattress slightly in anticipation. neediness slips into your veins like a drug, making jake lowly chuckle.

"such a needy girl, aren't you?" he teases, making you pout. jake focuses his attention to your desperate clit, rubbing focused circles gently on your bundle of nerves that has you moaning out his name. your hands snake up to the square of his shoulders, grabbing onto him in order to ground your mind from slipping away from your body.

you can hear your own wetness as he plays with your swollen pussy, the disgusting sounds were like heaven to jakes ears that he could never, ever get enough of.

jake opts in sliding one of his long fingers into your walls, sliding in with ease thanks to the slick you had provided all for him, because of him. your nails scratch at his back, a tired whimper leaving the back of your throat. his fingers work their magic inside your tight, velvety walls, fingertips softly grazing the sweet spot deep inside you.

your body shakes in his hold, making jake kiss your temple. he trails his kisses down the side of your face - resting on the skin of your neck to leave faint, purple marks. you squirm underneath him as another one of his fingers enters your pussy, fingering you from the inside out.

"my girl just wants to be taken care of huh? wants me to help her in every way possible?" you nod your head, a soft 'yes' incoherently leaves your mouth.

"gonna take such good care of my little angel, make her feel so, so good" and thats exactly what he does - fingering your needy pussy so well that when you close your eyes - you're sent seeing stars on the undersides of your lids. jake has that effect on you - knowing your body better than you possibly could. every inch of you engraved into his mind like an open book he just couldn't seem to forget.

"feels so good, i love you s' much" jake's heart feels like its going to explode, his chest tightening at your words.

"i love you sweet thing" he responds, speaking into your skin while his fingers working faster at splitting you apart. your pussy squeezes his fingers delicately, your desperate cries of his name come to a sweet crescendo.

your body curls into jakes front as he detaches from your neck, letting you bury your face into his chest. everything feels overstimulating and warm, making your mind cloud over with lust.

a warm feeling begins to spread throughout your lower abdomen, your hips bucking up into jakes palm in order to chase after the sensation.

"you close angel?" you frantically nod your head, legs shaking and spreading apart further to grant your husband more access to your body.

"yes,,, yes please... wan' cum please... please let me cum" your begging makes jake feel some sort of power, fueling him into his next choice of words.

"i dunno, have you been a good girl recently?" your eyes fly open, the fear of jake denying you permission to cum makes you pout immensely.

"yes.. been such a good girl f' you" your voice is whiny and desperate, making jake mimic the pout plastered on your face. he ponders for a moment before smiling at you fondly.

"yes you have. been such a patient girl for me recently. don't worry baby, daddys gonna make it all better" his fingers reach a deeper spot inside you, making your toes curl and your back inch further off the bed and right into the palm of your husbands mind.

"cum for me baby" is all he says before your pussy clenches down on his digits that work diligently within your gummy walls, your juices squirting out to signal the snap of your release.

"good girl, let me take good care of you" he whispers into your ear, his movements coming to a slow halt. your body collapses back onto the bed, chest heaving up and down in search of much needed air. jake pulls his fingers out of you with a hiss.

"i love you baby, in sickness and in health" he smiles fondly before kissing the skin of your sweaty forehead.

"i love you more"

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