#I just. couldn’t have told you that I knew | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stylesispunk · 3 days ago

Text

'Landed too hard'

outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You save Joel's life from raiders but instead of thanking you, he gets mad at you.

You get hurt and you are forced to be vulnerable with each other.

wc: 7k

warnings: age gap, established relationship, angst, fluff, miscommunication, insecurities, mentions of blood, and fluff

a/n: i'm slowly coming back to this with this baby here that was on my drafts. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

The forest was too quiet for your liking. No birds, no wind—Just the soft crunch of the snowy ground beneath your feet as you followed Joel who was ahead of you and Ellie. There was something in the air this day, eerie silence pressing on your chest, tension, and Joel had been on edge all day, his broad shoulder seemed tense under his jacker, his grip on the rifle tighter than usual.

It felt like the premonition of something bad coming on your way. So, you kept your knife close and your gun pressed under your hand.

“We’ll set up camp soon,” Joel muttered, his voice low without looking behind to you and Ellie.

Ellie groaned. “Finally. My feet feel like they’re gonna fall soon.”

You gave her a tired smile at her remark, but your eyes stayed on Joel. His jaw was tight, the scar above his brow crinkling deeper. You knew him well enough to read the signs—he was worried. More than usual.

That’s why you didn’t even hear them coming.

One second, you were walking behind Joel, and the next, chaos broke out. Shouts echoed through the trees. Five, maybe six men, all armed came out from nowhere. Joel shoved you and Ellie behind an overturned log.

“Stay down,” he growled, pressing his rifle into your hands. “If anyone gets close, you shoot. Don’t move unless I say so.”

“Joel—”

“Stay.”

You swallowed your fear and nodded, grabbing Ellie and pulling her down. Joel stepped out, drawing their attention, firing a shot that took one of the men down, then another and so on.

But the rest came fast. Through the cracks in the log, you watched Joel fight. He moved like a man who’d done this too many times, but even then, it was too much. One of the raiders tackled him, and suddenly, Joel was on the ground, with one of those men’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

the man’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

“Shit,” you whispered, your heart pounding so hard you could barely hear Ellie’s panicked breathing next to you.

Joel clawed at the man’s wrists, his face turning red, veins bulging in his neck. He wasn’t going to get out of it and you couldn’t just sit there watching the man you loved die in front of you.

“Stay here,” you told Ellie, voice shaking from rage.

“Wait…what are you doing?!” she whispered.

Your body moved before your mind could argue. You were already running before Ellie could have the chance to stop you.

You tackled the man strangling Joel, knocking him off balance, but before you could finish him, another set of hands grabbed you from behind. You struggled, kicking and clawing, managing to land a sharp elbow into the man’s ribs before twisting free. The first man lunged again, but you dodged, feeling the burn of a knife slicing across your cheek. The pain barely registered as you drove your own blade into the man’s neck, then turned and plunged it into the second attacker’s chest before he could recover. Warm blood splattered your hands as the man crumpled, gasping his last breath.

You stood there, panting, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Joel coughed violently, rolling onto his side, his face pale and drenched in sweat. You dropped to your knees beside him, your hands hovering uselessly. “Joel? Hey—hey, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, still gasping for air. When he finally sat up, his brown eyes locked onto yours—not with gratitude, but with pure, burning rage.

“The fuck were you thinking?” he rasped, voice raw.

You blinked, the adrenaline still rushing through you. “I—I had to. He was going to—”

“You didn’t listen to me!” Joel slammed his fist into the dirt, his whole-body trembling with anger. “I told you to stay hidden! What if he’d killed you?!”

“Well, he didn’t” you stated, “I saved your life!”

“And you risked yours doing it!”

His voice echoed through the trees, sharp and unforgiving. You felt your chest tighten, heat rising in your throat.

“I’m not some helpless girl you can just shove behind a log, Joel! I did what I had to!”

Joel stood up, wiping the blood from his hands. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything else. The space between you felt impossibly wide.

He ran a hand over his face, stepping back like he couldn’t even look at you. "You put yourself in danger. You could’ve been killed. Do you even get that?"

"I get that I just saved your ass!" You shot back, the weight of the moment crashing over you. "And all you can do is yell at me?"

He exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists before he turned away. "I ain't doin' this."

"Fine," you bit out.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating. You glanced at Ellie, who stood off to the side, arms crossed, her expression tense.

You lifted a hand to your cheek, your fingers coming away sticky with blood. The cut burned now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and you sucked in a sharp breath. Ellie’s eyes flicked to the wound, concern flashing across her face, but she didn’t say anything. Joel still wasn’t looking at you, his back rigid as he adjusted his pack.

"We should get moving," he muttered, voice low and strained.

You nodded, swallowing down the ache in your throat. Without another word, the three of you fell into step, the silence stretching between you like an open wound

That night, you found a small clearing tucked between dense trees, far enough from the road to feel safe. The cold had settled deep, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you sat near the weak glow of the fire. Joel had barely spoken a word since the fight, his focus set on keeping watch, his back to you.

You weren’t hurt by his words or the outburst he had, but by the idea of him willingly die and feeling at peace with it. How easy would be for him to left you behind and in your own.

You dismissed your thoughts as you dug through your pack for a rag, pressing it against the wound on your cheek. The sting made you wince, and you cursed under your breath.

A quiet shuffling caught your attention, and you looked up to see Ellie kneeling beside you, her brows furrowed.

"Here," she said, pulling a small bottle of alcohol from her pocket. "Let me help."

You hesitated for a moment, then gave her a small nod. She dampened the cloth with the antiseptic and reached for your face. The touch was gentle, but the sting made you hiss.

"Sorry," Ellie murmured, concentrating as she cleaned the cut. "You’re lucky it’s not deeper."

You let out a small chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in it. "Lucky isn’t exactly how I’d describe this day.”

Ellie huffed, finishing up before pulling a bandage from her pack. "Well, you’re not dead, so that counts for something."

You smiled faintly, glancing toward Joel. He still hadn’t turned around. You sighed, looking back at Ellie. "Thanks, kid."

She just shrugged, but there was warmth in her eyes. "Anytime."

As the fire crackled softly between you, you finally felt a small sense of comfort—at least, from Ellie. Joel, on the other hand, was still a storm brewing on the other side of camp.

Joel sat a few feet away, his gaze drifting to you as he kept watch. He noticed the way you shivered, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, but still, you slept. He hesitated, jaw tightening as he debated with himself. Then, with a quiet sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over you.

You stirred slightly at the added warmth, a small, unconscious sigh escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake. Joel lingered for a moment, watching you, before settling back down next to you as if he needed to remind himself you were still here.

The fire in your camp had burned down to glowing embers, the scent of smoke mixing with the cool morning air. Joel sat near it, his hands wrapped around his termo, sipping coffee our from it, his eyes occasionally flicking over to where you slept.

Your back was to him, your body curled slightly, the jacket pulled high over your shoulder. The cut ran along your cheekbone from the fight the day before—a fight that left you and Joel in a tense, suffocating silence. Reminding him how you always put yourself in danger for him.

He hated himself for it. How he had came to the point where he felt useless.

Now, in the morning light, you looked peaceful despite the frown that creased your forehead. Joel knew that look. He knew you too well.

Ellie stirred next to him, stretching before getting to her feet. She glanced at you, then back at Joel. “Should I wake her up?” she asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

Joel shook his head. “Not yet.”

Ellie raised a brow. “Why?”

Joel sighed, glancing at you again before taking another sip of coffee. “She’s got a frown.”

Ellie blinked. “Yeah, ‘cause she’s mad at you. Even in her sleep.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, but there wasn’t much fight in it. “No. It’s different. She gets that when she gets a migraine.” He ran a hand over his beard, glancing at you again. “Let her sleep a little longer.”

Ellie’s teasing smirk faded slightly, replaced by something softer. “You really pay attention, huh?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another slow sip of coffee, staring into the fire. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “When it comes to her of course I do.”

Ellie sighed, dropping back down onto the log next to him. “So… you gonna fix this or what?”

Joel tensed, setting his cup down beside him. “She doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

“Yeah, because you yelled at her.” She reminded him.

Joel rubbed a hand down his face. “She shouldn’t have done what she did.”

“She saved your ass, Joel.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “That ain’t the point.”

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, it kinda is. She did what you would’ve done for her.”

Joel was silent, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“Do you think she would be fine if you were dead?” she pressed on, sighing.

Instead of answer, Joel reached for his bag, unbuckling the strap. He knew exactly where to look, tucked inside one of the side pockets were the pills he always carried for you, just in case.

Ellie, who had been watching with quiet curiosity, tilted her head. “Wait… you carry her pills?”

Joel didn’t look up as he pulled out the small bottle, checking how many were left. “Yeah.” His voice was gruff, like he didn’t think it was something worth mentioning.

Ellie crossed her arms. “Huh.”

Joel finally glanced at her. “What?”

Ellie smirked. “Nothin’. Just—you act all tough, but you’re, like, secretly the softest person ever for her.”

Joel rolled his eyes, muttering, “Keep it to yourself, kid,” as he moved toward you.

You stirred slightly as he knelt beside you, brushing your hair back from your face with a careful hand. The sight of the cut on your cheek made his stomach twist again, but he pushed the feeling down. He had already failed to keep you from getting hurt once, he wouldn’t fail you now.

Gently, he set the bottle of pills down next to you, along with a canteen of water. He knew you still weren’t talking to him, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop taking care of you.

As he sat back, Ellie watched him with something unreadable in her expression. “Still mad, huh?”

Joel sighed, rubbing his thumb over the strap of your bag.

Ellie nodded. “Well… you’re doin’ the right thing, at least.”

Joel wasn’t sure about that. But as he sat there, keeping watch while you slept, he figured it was all he could do for now.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the dull ache in your head. The second was the soft sound of the fire crackling nearby. You blinked against the morning light, your body still heavy with exhaustion.

And then you saw the canteen and the small bottle of pills sitting beside you. You didn’t have to ask who put them there.

Your gaze flickered to Joel, who sat a few feet away, his back turned slightly toward you. He was sharpening his knife, the rhythmic scrape of metal against stone filling the quiet space. Ellie sat across from him, kicking at the dirt with her boot, sneaking glances at you like she was waiting to see what you’d do.

You swallowed, your throat dry. Carefully, you pushed yourself up, wincing as your muscles protested. Your fingers brushed against the bottle of pills, and you hesitated before finally picking it up.

Joel’s voice came before you could say anything. “Drink some water with that.”

It was quiet. Gruff. Like he wasn’t sure where the two of you stood after yesterday.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond, but you didn’t have the energy to fight again. Instead, you obeyed, twisting the cap off and dry-swallowing the pill before chasing it with a sip of water.

Joel didn’t look at you, but you saw his shoulders drop just a little.

Ellie, of course, didn’t stay quiet for long. “Sooo… does this mean you guys are done being mad at each other?

You shot her a look. “Ellie.”

“What? I’m just saying’—”

Joel cut in; his voice flat. “Eat your breakfast.”

Ellie huffed but dropped it, tearing off a piece of jerky with her teeth.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before stealing a glance at Joel. His eyes were still fixed on his knife, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the handle a little too tightly.

He was waiting. For you to say something. For you to forgive him.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples in a weak attempt to ease the pressure in your skull. It wasn’t working. Nothing ever really worked, except for him.

Joel had a way of grounding you when the pain got bad. He didn’t always have the right words, but he never needed them. He had his own way of taking care of you, of letting you know he was there. And right now, all you wanted was for him to kiss your temples the way he used to.

The way he always did when you were hurting.

But things weren’t the same. You had fought, you had pulled away, and he had let you. And now, even though he was right there, he felt miles away.

You swallowed hard and shut your eyes, trying to push down the disappointment twisting in your chest. It was stupid to want that from him right now. After everything, you shouldn’t need him like that.

Except you did.

Joel shifted, and you felt him move closer, his presence clear even before he spoke. “Did you take the pills?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence, and then, so softly you almost missed it— “Still hurts?”

You hesitated. Your pride screamed at you to say no. To brush him off and keep that last little bit of distance between you. But you were tired.

“Yeah,” you admitted.

Joel exhaled slowly. And then, finally, finally, you felt his fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head just enough so he could lean in.

His lips pressed against your temple, warm and steady, lingering for just a second longer than they needed to.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“Get ready, we have to go now” he spoke, still closer to your face.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the sudden shift back to reality. The moment was brief, fleeting, just like every soft thing between you and Joel seemed to be.

He pulled away first, his hand dropping from your face like he hadn’t just touched you like you meant something to him. Like he hadn’t just kissed you the way he always used to when you were hurting.

You cleared your throat, pushing yourself up slightly, ignoring the dull ache in your chest "Yeah, okay," you muttered, rubbing at your face as if you could wipe away the lingering warmth of his touch.

Joel stood up, already shifting back into that closed-off version of himself, the one that had been there ever since your fight. The one that didn’t know how to bridge the gap now.

Ellie walked in just as you were attempting to stand, her eyes flicking between the two of you. "You guys look weird," she said, frowning. "Like... extra weird."

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Not now, Ellie."

She just smirked, clearly entertained by whatever tension was hanging in the air. "Whatever you say, lovebirds."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for your bag to distract yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, but you pretended not to notice. Joel pretended too, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you, watching you too closely like he always did.

The road stretched ahead, cracked and broken, nature reclaiming what once belonged to people. You walked in silence, the weight of the morning still pressing against your chest. Your head ached, but you bit down on the pain, refusing to let it slow you down.

Joel was beside you, his steps steady, his presence solid as ever. But something about him felt distant. He was looking at you, you could feel his gaze flickering toward you every few moments, but it wasn’t the same. Not like before.

Before, his eyes had been filled with something warm, something certain. But now? Now, it felt like he was watching you from behind a wall, like he was making sure you were still there but refusing to let himself feel anything about it.

Ellie, for once, was quiet, kicking a stray rock as she walked ahead, letting the tension settle between the two of you.

Joel’s outburst had been raw, desperate, his voice breaking, his hands gripping yours like he could tether you to him. But now, you saw it for what it was. Fear. Not just of losing you. But of what it meant if he didn’t.

Because Joel didn’t think he deserved to have you. He thought he wasn’t enough, that he never had been. And maybe… maybe he never would be.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. "You don’t have to keep looking at me like that," you muttered, not even turning your head.

Joel tensed beside you. "Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for me to cry to let you in and forgive you shout at me.”

His jaw ticked, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say anything at all. But then—

"I am not," he said, voice rough. A lie.

You stopped walking. Finally, you turned to face him. "Then what is it?" you asked, your voice softer than you meant for it to be. "Because you had been like this for week, something's been different and yesterday you just broke."

Joel exhaled slowly, looking away, his hands on his hips, his fingers flexing. "Nothing’s different."

You huffed out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Bullshit."

Ellie stopped a few steps ahead, glancing between the two of you like she wanted to intervene but thought better of it.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders stiff, his mouth opening—then closing again. He had no answer. No real one, anyway.

Because the truth was, it had never been about you. It had always been about him. About the way he would rather push you away than let himself believe, even for a second, that he was allowed to keep you. That you would want to stay.

That you would choose him. But you were tired of being the only one fighting for this.

So, you just nodded, setting your jaw. "Alright," you murmured, turning back toward the road, ignoring the way your chest ached. "If nothing’s different, then let’s just keep moving."

He Heard the way your voice broke at the end and he just watched as you joined Ellie.

Joel stood there, hands tightening into fists at his sides as he watched you walk away. He’d done this—again.

He had Hurt you.

He told himself it was for the best, that it was the only way to keep you safe. But that excuse was starting to sound as hollow as he felt.

Ellie shot him a glance, her expression unreadable before she turned her attention back to you. She said something low under her breath, nudging your shoulder. You didn’t look back.

And Joel? Joel just stood there, rooted in place, watching the one thing he was most afraid of slip through his fingers.

Because, deep down, he knew. It wasn’t the world that would take you from him. It was him. It was a matter of time.

A few hours later, when cold still found its way deep down your bones. You followed Joel and Ellie into the old market, the air inside thick with dust and the remnants of a world long gone. The faded signs above the shop windows once advertised fruits and vegetables, but now they were nothing more than silent witnesses to the decay around them.

Joel stepped into the shadows first, scanning the area with ease. His hand never strayed far from the rifle slung across his back. He wasn’t just looking for supplies—he was looking for danger, as always, he was ready to find it. You watched him move with that quiet confidence that made him seem invincible, even though you knew better. The way he held himself, as if the weight of the world was constantly on his shoulders.

He disappeared behind a corner, moving into the heart of the market.

Ellie, always ready for adventure, shifted impatiently next to you. “Think it’s safe?” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the market.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes fixed on the place where Joel had vanished. You could feel the tension coiling between the two of you, that invisible thread that had been growing tighter over the last few hours. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“He’ll let us know when it’s safe,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes away from him.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly not fully convinced. “Yeah, but what if-”

You cut her off with a shake of your head. “He’s careful. He’ll check everything first.”

She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the answer, but she stayed quiet. You both waited in silence, the only sounds the distant hum of the wind and the occasional creak of the building settling.

Then, Joel’s voice echoed from ahead. “Clear,” he called out as he reappeared from behind a row of shelves, his gaze briefly flicking over you before he turned to lead the way deeper into the market. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the wariness beneath it.

His fingers found their way to your shoulders, his touch was brief, just the slightest brush of his fingers against your jacket. A silent reassurance. Or maybe a habit he couldn't break.

You didn’t react, didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on scanning the shelves, looking for anything useful. Cans, medical supplies.

Ellie was already rummaging through a shelf, muttering under her breath about how people really liked canned beans before the world went to hell. Joel moved ahead, his rifle held tight as he checked the corners, ever cautious.

You bent down, shifting through a pile of toppled boxes, when Joel’s voice came from behind you. “You good?”

It was automatic, the way he asked. Like even when he was keeping his distance, he still couldn’t help but care.

You hesitated, keeping your back to him. “Yeah.”

Another pause. Then a quiet, “Alright.”

But it wasn’t alright.

Not the way his voice sounded. Not the way your chest ached every time he was close but not close enough. And definitely not the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long on your shoulder, as if he didn’t want to let go.

Joel was already moving toward another section of the market, scanning the rows of empty shelves, searching for anything of value. Ellie had drifted further ahead, already rummaging through a crate she found. You stayed close to the wall, the building’s dilapidated structure making you nervous, but you tried not to let the unease show. You knew Joel was doing his best to keep everyone safe, but the weight of everything—of what you had lost, of what you were still fighting for—was starting to catch up with you.

You took a few more steps, carefully picking your way over the cracked floor, when suddenly, the ground beneath you gave way with a sharp, unsettling creak. Before you could react, your foot twisted, the bone snapping like a twig under the weight of the fall.

A sharp, searing pain shot through your ankle as you cried out, unable to stop yourself. The world spun for a moment as you collapsed, hands pressing to the ground to catch yourself, but the pain in your ankle was unbearable. You let out a sharp gasp, fighting the urge to cry out again as you felt something shift beneath the skin, your foot didn’t feel right.

"Shit," you muttered, trying to stay calm, but panic crept in with each breath. Your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull yourself up, but your foot wouldn’t hold any weight. You couldn’t put it down.

Ellie’s voice broke through the fog of pain, distant but growing closer. “What happened?”

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice followed almost immediately. You could hear the panic lacing his tone, the urgency in his steps as he turned back toward you. You felt the weight of his presence before you saw him, his figure coming into view, moving fast.

He saw you on the ground, your face twisted in pain, and his heart dropped. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, kneeling down beside you with a speed that surprised you. His hands were gentle, but you could hear the frustration in his voice as he assessed the damage. "What the hell happened?"

“I—I fell,” you stammered, gritting your teeth as you tried to hold back more of the pain. You couldn’t focus on anything other than your ankle, the way it throbbed, the way your body seemed to give way under the weight of it.

Joel’s face hardened, his jaw clenching as he reached down to carefully touch your injured ankle. “I’m gonna need you to stay still, alright?” His voice was calm, but there was a warning edge to it. He was trying to hold himself together, trying not to let his worry show, but you could see it in his eyes. His hands worked quickly, checking for anything more serious, his brow furrowed with concentration.

“Ellie, get over here,” Joel called out, his voice low and strained.

Ellie rushed back toward you, eyes wide with concern as she knelt beside you. “Shit, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to sound stronger than you felt. “It’s just my ankle.”

Joel’s gaze flicked between you and Ellie, his mind clearly racing. “We need to get you out of here, now.” His hand gripped your shoulder for a moment, his fingers digging into the fabric of your jacket as if grounding himself in that brief contact.

Ellie was already standing, her expression determined as she took a deep breath. “I’ll go grab what we need.”

Joel nodded, but his focus never left you. He reached down, his hands carefully lifting you as he positioned himself behind you. "I'm gonna carry you. It's gonna hurt a little, but I need you to hang on."

You bit back a hiss of pain as he adjusted his hold on you, making sure not to jostle your foot too much, but you couldn’t suppress the way your body tensed at the movement. The pain was still sharp, but there was something comforting in the way Joel’s arms secured around you.

“Joel…” you whispered, too exhausted to speak louder.

“I got you,” he muttered back, his voice almost a promise. "Just hang in there."

As he started to move, carrying you carefully toward a safer corner, you could feel your heart rate begin to slow, your pulse steadying slightly in the rhythm of his steps. But the ache in your ankle still lingered, a constant reminder of how fragile everything really was.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the pain, trying to find some semblance of peace in the way Joel had his arms around you. Because no matter how mad you were, no matter how much you weren’t talking to him, Joel Miller was always going to take care of you.

Joel helped you settle into a quiet corner of the abandoned store, easing you down onto an old crate. He crouched in front of you, his hands steady as he pulled your boot off, careful not to jostle your ankle too much.

Ellie hovered for a second, glancing between the two of you, then rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’m gonna go check the other side of the store. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

You didn’t respond. Joel didn’t either.

Once Ellie disappeared, Joel focused back on your ankle, pulling out a roll of bandages from his pack. He was quiet as he started wrapping, his fingers gentle but firm, pressing just enough to support your injury.

You watched him for a moment, then let out a quiet scoff. “You don’t have to pretend you care about this.”

Joel’s hands stilled. His jaw ticked. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours.

“You think I’m pretending?” His voice was low, rough. Almost offended by the way your voice sounded saying those words.

You looked away, focusing on the peeling paint on the walls. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One second, you’re mad at me. The next, you’re acting like—like this.” You gestured vaguely at him. “Like it actually matters.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, sitting back on his heels. “It does matter.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Does it? Because you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you were yelling at me.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I was mad because you almost got yourself killed.”

“I was saving you.” You protested.

“I don’t need saving” He replied, rough as always.

Your eyes snapped back to his, anger flashing in them. “And I don’t need you acting like I don’t have a say in whether or not I protect you. You can’t just decide for me, Joel.”

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked exhausted, like he was carrying too much weight on his shoulders. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

You frowned, your voice softer now. “Can’t what?”

His gaze met yours again, something raw behind it. “I can’t lose you.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the faint wind outside, the rustling of leaves.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “You think I want to lose you?”

Joel’s expression softened just a fraction. He sighed, reaching forward, his hand hesitating before resting gently on your knee.

Your breath caught. The fight, the tension, it was still there, but underneath it was something deeper. Something neither of you had the words for just yet.

“You are always so willing to die,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “Like you’re just waiting for the exact moment. Like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

Joel’s breath hitched. His grip on you tightened, grounding you, but he didn’t say anything.

You sniffed, shaking your head. “Do you even know what that does to me? How it makes me feel?”

He swallowed hard, his throat working around the words he wasn’t saying.

“You walk into danger like you’ve already made peace with dying,” you continued, your voice raw. “And maybe you have. Maybe you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I care. And you make me watch you throw yourself into danger like it doesn’t matter if you make it out. Like you don’t care if I have to watch you—”

Your voice cut off as a sob wracked through you.

Joel let out a slow breath. Then, finally, he spoke. “I do care,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

You let out a bitter laugh, swiping at your tears. “You sure don’t act like it.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. His gaze dropped for a moment before he forced himself to look at you. “I’m not waiting to die.”

You scoffed, looking away.

“I’m not” he insisted. His voice was rough, firm. “I just…I don’t know how to do this. How to—” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before gripping the back of his neck. “I spent twenty years not giving a damn about whether I made it out of alive. And then you—” He stopped, shaking his head like he didn’t have the words.

You stared at him, waiting. His gaze met yours again, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable.

"Do you think I would survive without you?" You asked him.

"You're strong." he stated.

"That doesn't matter if the person I love and I protect throws himself to death" you said, tired of the cycle.

“I’m not trying to--” he started, but you cut him off.

“Yes, you are,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You act like you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I do. And I don’t know what’s worse—watching you run into danger without thinking or knowing that if you died, you’d probably think I’d just move on.”

His brows furrowed. “That ain’t—”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around Joel’s wrist. “Do you love me, Joel?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say it—that maybe, after everything, he’d still hold back.

But then, his hand moved, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the cut on your cheek. His touch was careful, reverent, like he was memorizing you.

“I do,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “More than I know how to say.”

Your breath stilled.

Joel exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “More than I ever meant to. More than I know what to do with.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his voice.

“Then stop trying to leave me behind,” you whispered, pleading to him.

He looked at you with such intensity, as if he was trying to see past the pain and fear, trying to understand something that had always eluded him.

“How do you even love someone like me?” Joel’s voice cracked slightly, the question laced with vulnerability, a side of him you rarely saw—something raw and unprotected.

Your heart hurt at the sound of it. You wanted to reach out and erase the doubt from his mind, to tell him that he didn’t have to question it. But instead, you just looked at him, letting the silence linger for a moment, trying to gather the right words to answer him.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, “I love you because you’re you. Because through all the broken pieces, all the walls you’ve built around yourself, I still see the man who’s been there for me. You’re not perfect, none of us are. But you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if taking in your words, processing them, before meeting your gaze again. His expression softened, the tightness in his jaw easing, but there was still that guarded look in his eyes. He was trying to fight something inside himself, something he had carried for so long.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, almost to himself, but you heard it loud and clear. The doubt in his voice, something he couldn’t shake.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “Stop saying that,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “You deserve me. You deserve everything good that’s coming your way. I’ve seen who you are, Joel. You’re not what you think you are.”

“Why do you think I keep pushing you away?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, like he was afraid of the answer himself.

You leaned in a little closer, your forehead nearly touching his, and your breath mingled in the quiet space between you. “Because you’re scared of letting yourself love me the way you do,” you said softly. “You’re scared of losing me. But pushing me away won’t make it any easier. It’ll just leave you with a regret you can’t undo.”

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as if your words had struck a chord in him, but it wasn’t enough to break him completely, not yet.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m afraid if I let myself love you fully... if I let myself need you the way I do… I won’t be able to protect you. I can’t live with that.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek as you reached up to wipe it away, the tenderness in his voice catching you off guard. You could feel the pain in his words, the depth of his fear, and it only made you love him more.

Joel’s hand gently moved to your ankle, and despite everything that had just been said, the tenderness in his touch wasn’t lost on you. His rough fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully positioned your leg. You winced slightly at the discomfort, but it wasn’t the pain from your ankle that caught your attention—it was the way his eyes never left you, the quiet care he was showing in that moment.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his voice low, trying to keep his own emotions in check. You could tell he was trying to be calm for you, even though you knew he was anything but calm inside.

Joel’s fingers moved gently over your ankle, wrapping the bandage with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. His touch was steady, and for once, it was soft, more like the careful tenderness of someone who didn’t want to hurt you, rather than the harshness that often came with survival.

You winced slightly when the bandage tightened, but he immediately eased his grip, looking at you with concern.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why, but his care made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

Once your ankle was properly secured, Joel leaned back, looking at you for a moment, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place in them. He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you like he was trying to decide something in his mind.

Joel’s gaze went to your ankle for a moment, then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward, his lips brushing the soft skin of your bandaged ankle. It was a gesture so tender, so unexpected, that you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Don’t laugh,” he murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice remained quiet, almost apologetic. “I’m just trying to make it better.”

You shook your head, still chuckling lightly, the sound feeling strange after everything that had happened. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Joel,” you said, meeting his eyes with a smile. “It’s just... never thought you’d be kissing my ankle better.”

Joel’s smirk softened into something more tender, and for a moment, there was nothing between you but the quiet understanding. His eyes dropped back to your ankle for a brief second before lifting to meet yours once more, his expression serious. Without another word, he moved closer, his hand reaching to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your skin with the same tenderness he had shown when tending to your injury. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his lips just a breath away.

And then, without hesitation, he kissed you, soft, lingering, as if it was a promise, as if it was everything, he hadn’t been able to say before. You leaned into it, letting the kiss speak for you both, the tension between you finally easing, at least for this moment.

“Oh, come on! Seriously?” Ellie’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

You and Joel broke apart instantly, your breath still tangled in his, as you turned to see Ellie standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a smirk pulling at her lips.

Joel cleared his throat and sat back slightly, rubbing a hand over his beard like that would somehow erase what she’d just walked in on.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I leave you two alone for five minutes, and you’re already making out. Unbelievable.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatic tone. “Ellie—”

“No, no,” she interrupted, waving a hand. “I mean, it’s kinda sweet, but gross.”

Joel shot her a look, his voice flat. “Ellie.”

“What?” She shrugged, grinning. “Just saying. But, uh—maybe save the romance for later, lovebirds? We kinda got shit to do.”

Joel exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but when he glanced at you again, you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“C’mon,” he muttered, standing up and offering you a hand. “We should get movin’.”

You took his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go. As you stood, Ellie shot you both a smug look before turning on her heel.

As she walked away, you heard her mutter under her breath, “God, I hope I never have to see that again.”

As soon as you put weight on your injured ankle, a sharp pain shot up your leg, making you wince. You bit down on a curse, trying to tough it out, but Joel noticed immediately.

“Joel, it’s fine, I can walk,” you protested, but you could see the look in his eyes, the one that said, no argument.

“Not gonna argue with me on this one. Up you go.” Before you could protest, he crouched slightly in front of you. “Get on.” He waited for you to settle onto his back, and you reluctantly complied, knowing it would be easier than walking on your own.

You blinked at him. “Joel, I can—”

He shot you a look over his shoulder. “I'm not asking...”

Ellie snorted. “Just get on, lovebird.”

You sighed, but there was no real fight left in you. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you effortlessly.

“Easy, old man,” you teased, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Joel huffed, adjusting his grip. “Call me that again, and I’m dropping you.”

You laughed softly, “Thanks,” you muttered after a moment, your face buried in his jacket, still feeling the warmth of his body. The way he carried you felt like a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you needed until now.

You sighed against him, letting yourself relax just a little as Joel carried you forward with steady steps. Without thinking, you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, just above the collar of his jacket.

Joel stiffened for half a second, his grip on your legs tightening before he exhaled slowly. “You trying to distract me?” His voice was lower now, rougher.

A smirk played on your lips. “Is it working?”

He huffed, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

You laughed, placing another kiss on the same spot, “I love you, Joel.”

His steps faltered for just a moment, barely noticeable, but you felt it. His grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your legs like he needed to ground himself.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept walking, his jaw tight. For a second, you thought maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all.

But then, in that quiet, gruff voice of his, he murmured, “I love you too, darling. Always”.

972 notes · View notes

nothoughtsjustficrecs · 2 days ago

Text

This was such a sweet and lovely story! I really do love a good ye olde/ royalty fic 😍

Thank you for writing this wonderful story and sharing it with us!

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go because I knew I'd forget otherwise so below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such]

“ He was notably excited and couldn’t sit down ” aw bless him

“ He tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind his ear, practically bouncing in his place. ” okay how dare he be so cute and precious tho, this story isn’t about you chan, take a step back (im kidding you’re so cute pls never stop)

“ it was almost two hours ” just the thought of that makes me exhausted omg

“ against his lifelong accomplice, Jeonghan. ” I read “accomplice” as “companion” at first and was like damn, I didn’t know it was that kinda story 😂

“ the bread perfectly golden and risen in small domes ” mm delicious

“ You knew if that happened, neither you or Chan would be allowed to return to the castle. ” I think the punishment would be a bit more severe than that for risking choking the prince, yikes, imagine that shitshow

“ this rustic meal ” nah why does that feel like an insult tho

“ You lay on your back, atop the fountain’s wide stone ledge, listening to the gushing water and staring up at the crescent moon. ” this sounds pretty perfect ngl

“ And right when you felt his lips ghost yours, Seokmin took a step back and you heard a huge fit of laughter erupt from the thick brush in the background. ” what assholes!

“ “Perhaps that cook quite liked you.” ” 😏 perhaps indeed

I love the way you describe stuff btw, I can be real iffy about descriptions sometimes because some people go over the top with it and I get bored, but you manage to paint a picture so effectively that I genuinely feel kind of envious of this character and I want to be her to experience the scenery

“ The next time you saw the Prince, you weren’t going to let him off easy. ” BEAT HIS ASSSSS

“ “you do not deserve my manners,” ” you tell him!

“ “Have you ever been left to wait, darling?” ” SCREAMING

“ “Not immediately, angel.” ” STOP IT, I WILL COMBUST

“ Suddenly, he cupped the sides of your face in his tender hands, urging you forward again, his lips brushing yours in such a gentle manner that a shiver tingled down your spine. ” AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH im fine (im not)

“ Everything felt like it was collapsing around you. ” looks like she’s not fine either, poor baby :((

“ “I refused the marriage to Lady Adelaide. She will return to Markarth before the sunset. I only told my mother and father this morning.” ” ahahhahahaha good

“ “I’m saying that I’m in love with you.” ” SCREECHING OVER HERE

“ “I-I thought I should gift it to you. And, whenever we must be apart, you can just think of this necklace, and the comfort that comes from a firefly’s glow.” ” nooo that’s so cute

⚬ pairing: prince!seokmin x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 12,690 ⚬ warnings: none. ⚬ genre: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, angst, teasing, some slowburn romance, superfluff toward the end.

✧✎ synopsis: the time has come for prince seokmin to meet his arranged marriage, which forces you to confront a strange predicament: if you truly hate the prince, then why does the thought of him being with someone else hurt this badly?

✧✎ a/n: yeah… i’ve wanted to write some prince!lsm since his excalibur pictures. evidently, i am very late! i hope u enjoy nonetheless :-)

Hiking up the long, heavy layers of your dress, pale and coloured like lilacs, you retrieved a small carving knife that had been clandestinely strapped against your outer thigh. Buried a few feet away from you in the grass was a smooth, palm-sized piece of beech wood, which you quickly picked up before walking back to the bench. You sat down horizontally, stretching out your legs and taking up as much space as possible whilst you started carving down the edges of the beech wood, flicking away the occasional shavings.

Keep reading

#the k fic collection review #chee chats about; fireflies by chocosvt #svt rec #svt fanfic #f: seventeen #p: lee seokmin x reader #g: fluff #g: enemies to lovers #g: royalty au #g: historical au #r: sfw #wc: 10k to 20k

2K notes · View notes

lexiputellas · 2 days ago

Text

Broken Vows

You and Alexia have been together for years.

You dated.

She proposed.

You got married.

Had baby number one.

Then baby number two.

And then, she was gone, just not physically. She was still here, still in the same house, still sharing the same bed, but the Alexia you knew, the Alexia who used to reach for you in the middle of the night, who used to whisper I love you against your skin, who used to wrap her arms around you from behind while you made breakfast—she wasn’t here anymore.

You don’t remember exactly when it started.

At first, you thought it was just a phase, maybe something was going on with the team, maybe she was just exhausted. She was older now, her body had to work harder, her mind had to be sharper—maybe she just didn’t have it in her to give you the same attention as before.

You made excuses for her, over and over. Until eventually, you ran out of them.

It was May 10. The day you got married.

You woke up to an empty bed.

No note. No text.

Just silence.

You checked your phone, it was seven a.m.

You went downstairs, Alexia wasn’t there. Maybe she was planning something, you told yourself. Maybe she had left early to set up a surprise.

You got the girls up, got them dressed, took them to school. You stopped at the supermarket on the way home, deciding that if she had forgotten—if this day no longer meant anything to her—you would still try. You would make dinner, something special, something to bring her back to you.

But as you sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, you let yourself think it—really think it.

How pathetic your life had become.

You used to have a career. You used to have close friends. You used to have a version of yourself that existed outside of her.

And then, somehow, it became just Alexia.

She needed you home. She needed your support. She needed you to travel to games, to be her anchor, to give her stability. It made her happy. And for a long time, that was enough.

But now?

Now, you walked into a house that was too big, too empty, too silent.

A house full of everything.

And yet, you felt nothing.

Because if you let yourself feel something—really feel it—you would break.

And you couldn’t afford that. You were supposed to be strong.

That night, Alexia came home at eleven.

You heard the door click shut, the familiar sound of keys hitting the dish by the entrance.

You didn’t move.

Dinner sat untouched on the counter, long gone cold. The girls had eaten hours ago. You had read to them, tucked them in, kissed their foreheads when they asked where mamá was.

You had lied. Told them she was working late. That she would see them in the morning. That she loved them, and maybe that last part was still true. Maybe.

You sat curled on the couch, a half-empty wine glass dangling from your fingers, watching the doorway as she stepped inside.

She didn’t look at you. Didn’t acknowledge you.

Just toed off her shoes, stretched her neck, and walked past you like a ghost drifting through walls.

You stayed still, your grip tightening around the glass.

It used to be different.

She used to come home and find you, kiss you before doing anything else. She used to make it seem like being home, with you, was the thing that kept her steady.

Now, you were just part of the furniture.

You let out a slow breath and looked at the photos on the TV stand, the ones you had stopped dusting as often because you hated being reminded.

Iris’s first birthday.

You and Alexia, beaming, so in love, so happy.

And now? Now you sat alone in a house that felt too big, drowning in silence, sipping wine just to feel something.

You sighed, setting your glass down before dragging yourself upstairs.

The hallway was quiet. The girls’ door was cracked open just enough for you to peek inside, to see them breathing softly in their beds.

You lingered there for a moment before continuing down the hall.

Your bedroom sat at the end, the bedding was smooth, untouched, the Pratesi sheets perfectly in place.

Before Alexia, you didn’t care what high-thread-count cotton percale and sateen were. But you had learned. You had learned how to be the person she needed, the person who smoothed out wrinkles and knew how to set a table and made sure her life was seamless.

You stepped inside, and she was there, in the closet, changing.

She looked perfect, as always.

Time hadn’t touched her the way it had touched you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, catching your own reflection in the mirror. You weren’t the same.

Your breasts weren’t as full, your stomach wasn’t as flat. The fine lines on your face were only hidden by Botox, by filler, by the desperate need to hold onto something slipping through your fingers.

Maybe she had found someone younger. Someone prettier. The thought made you swallow hard, your nails digging into your palms.

Alexia stepped out of the closet, placing her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at you.

And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you come home so late?” you asked softly. “The girls missed you at dinner.”

She turned to you then, finally meeting your gaze.

And then, just as quickly, she softened.

Her hands cupped your face, her thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“Sorry, baby,” she murmured. “I was at the gym with the physio until late.”

Then she kissed you.

And for a second, just a second, you let yourself sink into it.

It had been so long since she kissed you like this.

But it didn’t feel like her.

It didn’t feel like the Alexia you had fallen in love with.

She smelled different. She felt different. Like someone you could touch but never quite reach.

Your hands found her wrists, fingers curling around them.

“We have a gym at home,” you whispered. “Why did you have to stay there?”

Her jaw tensed.

“Don’t start now,” she said. “You know it’s different.”

Before you could respond, she kissed you again.

Harder.

Desperate.

Like she needed to silence you.

Her hands moved, unbuttoning your blouse with ease, pushing the fabric off your shoulders.

This was easier than asking the questions you didn’t want to know the answers to.

She pushed you onto the bed, her body pressing into yours.

Her hands were firm, practiced, moving across your skin with the same familiarity as always. But there was something mechanical about it, something detached.

She knew your body like a map, but tonight, she wasn’t exploring, she was just following directions.

She reached for the nightstand, her breath warm against your collarbone, her fingers working quickly.

You knew what was coming. You knew.

And still, you let her.

Because this was the only time she touched you anymore.

She moved inside you, slow at first, then faster, rougher.

Your body reacted out of instinct, your back arching, your breath catching. But it wasn’t her you felt.

It was the distance.

It was the realization that no matter how close she got, no matter how deep she was inside you, she was still so far away.

Her lips ghosted over your shoulder, her hands gripping your hips like she owned you.

And then, you felt it.

Not her.

The tears slipping down your face.

Because nothing had ever felt more like an ending than this.

#barcelona x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #reader x woso

374 notes · View notes

yailtsv · 2 days ago

Text

Secret - p.b

💌 Syn: Azzi’s younger sister dates one of their teammates behind Azzi’s back

»»— warnings: none i don’t think

»»— notes: i hate how this one turned out 🤠

»»— word count: 917

»»— pair: Paige x Fudd!Gfreader

“shhh we gotta be quiet” you tell paige after she knocked something off of your dresser when sneaking in

paige just ignores you and picks up what she dropped and then closed and locked your bedroom door - heading towards you.

you and azzi share a dorm together with caroline, carols asleep and azzi’s in her room doing homework, so what did you do? called your girlfriend to come over

but…said girlfriend has to sneak in because you both are hiding your relationship. azzi would not approve of your relationship and you both aren’t gonna ask your teammates to lie for you so you can be public around them, that’s just insane.

so that gets you to where you are right now - watching paige get clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser, and then changing into those clothes

“movie and cuddles?” paige asked after putting the clothes she just took off, onto your desk chair for her to grab when she leaves

you nod, already getting in your bed and under the covers, making paige do the same

you both fell asleep watching the movie, all cuddled up together. but you both woke up to consistent knocking, only waking up fully when you heard azzi say through the door “alright fine i’m using the key” making both of you sit up startled, but before you could move and push paige into your closet the door had opened and in walked azzi.

you could see azzi’s facial expression change, you could tell when she put the scene in front of her together in her brain, you could also see the look of hurt and betrayal all across her face

“az-“ “no! do not say anything!” she tells you before turning to face paige “you’re sleeping with my sister? AFTER i told you she was off limits?”

paige doesn’t really know what to say. azzi’s right, she did tell paige that you were off limits - and has been telling her since paige and azzi first met - which was years ago. paige did follow through with that, up until last year.

she never showed she was attracted to you - she was even in denial with her feelings for you. she always treated you as a friend - a very close friend but a friend.

she never thought you and her would eventually become a thing, she always fully intended to keep you at arms length - so that azzi wouldn’t be mad at her.

she’s not really sure on the time stamp of when she accepted her feelings, but whenever it was, was one of the greatest days. the even better day, was when she finally decided to do something with her feelings - that’s the day you guys started dating.

you and her have been dating for a little over a year now. she thought you guys wouldn’t be caught this far along, and she was wrong, and she’s having a difficult time on swallowing this pill.

“az- i’m sorry” paige stutters out, kinda overwhelmed with this situation “YOU’RE sorry?! you can date anyone in the world, and you chose the ONE person that i said was off limits, and you’re sorry?!”

“azzi i’m an adult, i can date who i want to date.” you tell her, wanting this conversation to be over

“you’re also my little sister dating MY best friend.” azzi responded back, still mad about the situation “why are you making it sound like she’s not my friend too? we’re all teammates, we’re all friends, we didn’t tell you we were seeing each other because we knew you were gonna act like this.”

“act like what?! i told both of you that i didn’t want you guys to ever date each other and look what’s happening now! you guys couldn’t of just respected that wish? i don’t ask anything of either of you but the one thing i do, you go behind my back and do it any ways?”

“azzi that’s not fair-“ paige starts but got cut off “fair?! you wanna talk about being fair?” “if you would let me talk that would be great!” paige said after cutting azzi off

azzi stopped talking and crossed her arms over her chest looking at paige expectingly “go on”

“we both did what you asked. we ignored each other romantically until last year, we spent all of our time together since me and you met at arms length, we’ve done everything, and unexpectedly fell for each other in that time. we are both adults, we can both do what we want - and what we want is to be with each other. you can’t stop us from dating, we’ve respected your wish this whole time but you never say why we can’t date you just say to not date, and that’s not fair at all. if your gonna forbid us from doing something at least tell us why. and until you can come up with a good reason - we’re gonna continue seeing each other”

azzi just looks at paige, her arms still crossed over her chest “i love her” paige replied again after a few moments of silence

azzi doesn’t say anything but after a few seconds walks out the door and back to her room. you and paige both make eye contact before sighing out loud

🏷️ @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @authentic-girl03 @ldapper

requested on wattpad

#paige bueckers x y/n #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader #uconn x fem reader #uconn x reader #wnba x reader #yailtsv’s works 📝

215 notes · View notes

pathologicalreid · 3 days ago

Text

forwards beckon rebound | s.r.

[previously]

in which fate reveals itself to you and Spencer. it's exactly as you feared, you're in love with him.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: blowing smoke FINALE (p4), maeve, kidnapping, russian roulette, imminent death, violence, blood, nondescript case fic, no hea word count: 1.88k a/n: two things 1) i do have an alternate ending to this series 2) fluff this weekend i promise

Brightness seared your retinas when the blindfold finally came off, you felt the sore skin in places where the fabric was too tight over your face. An abstract of indents were left over your skin.

Dots and shadows danced in your vision while you tried to blink them away, forming the shape of someone who oddly resembled Spencer. He was hunched over in a chair in front of you, his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. Your solace was the steady rising and falling of his chest. Each time he took a breath it eased your own.

“Spence,” you called for him, your throat so swollen that it came out as a hiss. The desperate cry of a rattlesnake hindered by whoever had crushed your windpipe.

Tunnel vision blinded you to anything in the periphery, your eyes scanned Spencer while you acquainted yourself with the binds around your wrists and ankles. He seemed unharmed, save for the obvious unconsciousness. You had no idea who had taken you, but the BAU had no shortage of enemies. The two of you were, by extension, always targets.

Your ears perked up at the first sign of noise in the warehouse, hot air rose to the floor you were on, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable in the humid prison. Glancing over your shoulder, you watched a masked figure waltz through the doorway.

Clocking the gun affixed to their hip, you quickly looked over to Spencer, hoping he would wake up soon. The fabric ties around your wrists dug into your fragile skin as you looked around the room, remembering there was someone else in here with you, someone who had pulled your blindfold off.

Silently, you started putting the pieces together. “Spencer,” you whispered, having half a mind to reach your foot out and try to kick him awake. There was a reason you had been the one blindfolded. Somewhere in your subconscious, you knew where you were. It led to the horrifying realization that this was about you.

His nose wrinkled, and the first sign that he was starting to wake up was interrupted when the masked figure stood behind him, gripping him by his hair and lifting his head.

Your body instinctively tried to jump to its feet in protest, “Hey!” You shouted as your chair creaked from its bolts in the ground, “Let him go.” Cringing, you watched as he dropped Spencer’s head, letting it loll to the side while he woke up.

The two UnSubs walked out of the room, leaving you and Spencer to your own devices. You shushed him slightly while he groaned, your breath hitching when your name slipped past his lips.

“It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m okay, I’m right here,” you assured him, though you weren’t entirely sure how comforting it was knowing you were both bound to chairs.

Spencer didn’t respond. You twisted your wrist within your binds and winced when it pulled in precisely the wrong way. Looking around, you chewed on the inside of your lip and tried to find something to help you, but there was no next step if you couldn’t get your hands free.

He groaned across from you, and you swallowed back a consolation. You studied him, his head tilted so aggressively to the side that you could see the glint of the scar on his neck. The faded mark was invisible to the naked eye, but when it caught in just the right light, you remembered the way you’d succumbed to dread in that hospital in Texas.

You should’ve called it then. You should have thrown in the proverbial towel and committed yourself to him that very night, with that guy bleeding out on the hospital floor and Penelope shouting about her ears popping.

But you’d heard the gunshot, and you’d seen the fear on his face, and at that moment, the only thing you could remember was trying to pick him up from the floor when he tried to crawl over to Maeve’s lifeless body. You remembered the way he cried when the team tried to give him space and you watched him push Diane’s body over so he could finally get a look at his dearly departed.

Even before she became the most beautiful girl in the world, you never trusted yourself with him. Your lack of faith in him pressed upon your shoulders like the weight of the sky. The pendant he had gifted you seared your chest like a brand. The Tree of Life weighed heavy over your heart.

Your romance with Spencer was like a car crash you couldn’t take your eyes off of. He relentlessly rammed his shoulder into the wall you’d constructed between you while you were on the other side reinforcing the bricks. His soft skin had been marred with bruises, and debris was littered across your body.

You should’ve called it then, but besides your sinking feeling that you’d never step up to the pedestal he had placed Maeve on, you knew you’d only have him temporarily. Life was excruciatingly short, and no amount of time would suffice when it came to him

The wall remained standing in the same way that Maeve’s had, refusing to let Spencer in, refusing to let Spencer help. “Spence,” you whispered. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, his eyes lifted to look at you, and you imagined he was witnessing his worst nightmare. Maybe he’d convince himself he was dreaming, damning you to the fate of telling him this was really happening. “You’re bleeding,” he said, voice gruff from lack of use. His brown eyes flashed with fear when they met yours, but it was no longer residual fear from Maeve’s death—it was fear for you. Had it always been fear for you? Was it possible that the terrorized look in his eye that pushed you away from him had always stemmed from his fear of losing you?

Wrinkling your nose, you finally felt it on your upper lip; blood had trickled from your nose down your face. You shook your head once and said, "It’s just my nose.” You watched his face contort as he tried to free himself from his binds.

Birds chirped outside of the windows; the setting sun invaded the blinds that shadowed the otherwise dark room. Lines of tangerine light lit his face while he ascertained your well-being for himself. There was no point in asking if you knew what had happened, and Spencer wasn’t in the habit of wasting time.

You tried using your thumbnail to cut through the twine around your wrists, the broken piece of keratin on your hand was, so far, the best option you’d had. “Did you see anything?” You asked him, trying to use conversation as a distraction from your current predicament.

He only said your name in response, wide eyes looking past you and watching as the man in the ski mask walked back into the room. The revolver that had previously been holstered on his hip was now in his hands. He spun the cylinder as he approached you, and your heart dropped when he raised the gun, pointing it at Spencer.

“No,” your voice was no more than a whisper while Spencer looked up at your abductor. He met his gaze and refused to flinch, even when he pulled the trigger. Someone who had never met Spencer would think he was entirely stone-faced in the face of a weapon, but you watched the light in his eyes shift and his Adam’s apple bob.

When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, your chest tightened, but everything about Spencer’s demeanor changed when the gun was turned on you. The barrel pressed to your temple, you shook your head when the shouting started, “Stop!” You closed your eyes, two silent tears streaking your face as the cold metal pressed against your skin. “Let her go,” Spencer urged. “You don’t need both of us.”

The bargaining started, and memories flashed behind your eyelids. Her for me. Let me take her place.

Spencer called your name when the trigger was pulled again, and the weapon clicked without expelling a bullet.

“Where is she?” Your abductor asked, his voice ringing out in an unfamiliar accent, referring to a mystery woman.

You shook your head once when the weapon was removed from your temple, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Part of you wished you were just egging on a suspect, but you felt entirely powerless while you looked at Spencer, confused.

His clenched fist made contact with your cheek, eliciting a shout from Spencer while your head twisted to the side. “Don’t lie to me! I know she called you.”

The gun rose again, “Please,” you cried as the barrel met Spencer’s forehead. “We can help you if you tell us what’s going on,” you assured the unnamed man.

Flinching, you watched the revolver click again, now halfway through the six cartridges. You were left with three more chances and, presumably, one bullet. “Killing one of us isn’t going to get us to help you,” Spencer tried to reason with him, but if there was one thing you knew, it’s that you can’t change a mind that’s been made up.

He scoffed, lifting the gun to your head, and you felt the blood drain from your face in anticipation. Every part of you ran cold as the gun met your temple, “Spencer, close your eyes.”

You continued digging at your restraints, jumping slightly when the gun clicked again. The mechanical sound of the trigger rang in your ears, echoing endlessly when you looked back at Spencer. You swallowed back an I love you, not wanting to succumb to the cliché while you met Spencer’s eyes again. A piece of you hoped the look in your eyes said everything you needed, noises came from elsewhere in the building, and you wished it was a savior.

With the revolver up at his temple, he nodded reassuringly at you, “I know.”

“Please let him go,” you begged, your voice catching over your tears. “If this is about me, you have to let him go,” you promised.

When the trigger was pulled again with no consequences, your heart dropped. The blood-pumping organ fell through your entire body, and you looked up at Spencer, unable to hide the terror in your eyes.

You shook your head as the gun was pressed against your temple, “Spencer, don’t watch.” You faced down your own death, trying to ignore the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your binds in a last-minute escape attempt. “You don’t need to see this,” you didn’t add again, but the thought crossed your mind while you thought of the necklace that sat over your heart.

“I have to see you through,” Spencer insisted, silver lining his eyes while he furiously pulled at his own restraints.

Your chest rose and fell in desperate, shaking breaths. You couldn’t do it; you couldn’t meet his eyes with a revolver pressed to your skull. You should’ve done it. You should’ve called it then, but that was how life worked. Things were already clearest when they were in the rearview window. There was nothing for you to do.

All Spencer could do was watch as he pulled the trigger, and the cycle repeated.

"History repeats itself, but in such cunning disguise that we never detect the resemblance until the damage is done." - Sydney J. Harris

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot

307 notes · View notes

pellucid-constellations · 3 days ago

Text

On Standby

Pairing: Warren (oc) x Reader

Summary: The day after his fiancee left him, Warren is still to be married—just not to her. To a woman he has never met.

Word count: ~800

Warnings: Arranged marriage

a/n: I literally have no idea what's going on but please enjoy whatever I'm on right now. I don't even know what to tag this lol?? Love you thanks for the inspo everyone <3

Read the original Azriel x reader fic here

Warren pulled at his collar. The material of his jacket was itchy and stiff along his neck, but honestly, he was just nervous. The hall was packed with eyes trained on his nerves and he knew only half of them.

The other half was your family, who had somehow all been prepared for a grand wedding on such short notice. Long dresses and tailored suits sat in the seats before him, expecting something from him, and he didn’t even know what you looked like.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. He knew very little about his previous fiancee, but she was nothing if not kind and pretty and devoted. Not devoted to him, but he supposed it was a good quality to have.

He regretted, for the fourth time since last night—he’d been counting—not making more of an effort to win her over before she left. Maybe if he’d tried harder he wouldn’t be meeting someone new today. Maybe if she had felt something for him before she left…

No, that wouldn’t have worked either.

As much as Warren liked her, he had seen the longing and pain in her eyes at the rehearsal dinner last night. He would have lost her to whoever she loved in the Night Court regardless of previous efforts. Still, he wished it was her.

His mother was speaking to him, her smile just as bright as the night before. She had known a wedding would take place today and had cared little about the bride. That was fine, he supposed, but this suit was choking him and he felt a headache blooming.

“Have you decided on the honeymoon?” his mother prompted in his ear, elation buzzing in her tone.

“No, mother. I told you I want my wife to decide.”

“How silly. What if she wants to go somewhere terrible?”

“I suppose that would be my plight in life,” Warren sighed through a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Please remind me of—”

“Her name?”

He almost scoffed. “Gods, no. I remember her name. Remind me of the flowers she chose.”

His mother shot him an odd look—one that had become increasingly commonplace with his impending marriage. His mother found it strange that he had wanted to know so much about his previous fiancee, allowing her to take liberties husbands apparently should not. She questioned his desire to be attuned to her, to have a proper partnership when it was all arranged. Warren’s mother had obviously assumed his pairing would be lucrative for the family at best.

And it would be lucrative, even with you now as his mother’s second choice. But Warren wanted to be in love. He wanted to take care of someone and feel the warmth of reciprocation. He hadn’t seen much love in his life with so many arranged marriages and carefully planned relationships, but that did little to impact his view.

Warren wanted to feel the way his fiancee—former fiancee—had looked last night.

“Daffodils,” his mother shared.

With such short notice, you had only been able to request a few things for your participation in the wedding. Your wedding, Warren regrettably thought, and you could only pick a bouquet.

He’d have daffodils sent to whichever house you chose for the honeymoon.

Warren nodded to his mother, and then notes were plucked from the harp across the room and he was left alone at the altar.

His palms were sweating. He couldn’t hold your hand for the first time with sweaty palms. He discreetly positioned his hands behind his back and attempted to remedy the issue.

This would be fine.

Maybe you were even lovelier than his last fiancee. Maybe you would enjoy all of the same things he did and would be interested in his idiotic sailing hobby. Maybe you would want to fall in love.

The double doors swung open at the end of the aisle.

For some reason, Warren’s eyes fluttered shut—only for a moment, but long enough for a strange form of fear to grip him.

What if you weren’t interested in the kind of relationship he so desperately wanted? What if you saw this as a joining of families and nothing else? What if you were mean, ill-hearted—what if you hated him for what this marriage meant?

Warren did not have time to contemplate any longer. He looked up from his turmoil and found daffodils in his eyeline. And then he found you, and suddenly, Warren wasn’t so concerned about anything anymore.

A soft veil trailed down from the softness of your hair, gathering on the floor until it was lost in your dress. His examination stopped there. Warren was aware that there were several other beautiful things he could have noticed about you, but his world was shifting. Warren stepped back to support himself.

He had found his mate.

#azriel x reader #i guess??#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #thats all i will do

320 notes · View notes

gay-dorito-dust · 3 days ago

Text

This is really, really, really long…

A lovesick Joaquin was a sight to behold Sam figured as he watched the new falcon practically brimming with joy when you stepped into the room, and while she was already smiling before but Joaquin’s face might as well have been split in half with how widen his smile had become within a matter of seconds, Sam would be surprised if in the end his cheeks didn’t end up hurting by the end of the day.

Sam could read Joaquin like a book -a short one- as he always wore his emotions on his face no matter how often he tries to disprove this observation from him, all the while his face and body language contradicts his words, especially when your name was brought up. All of a sudden his posture was straightened, chest was puffed up like a prideful birds and his dark eyes would eagerly scan the entire room for you, only to deflate and dull when Sam doubles over in laughter.

‘You’re so whipped for them man it’s not even funny at this point.’ He says between fits of laughter, his abdomen aching with each full body laugh that came out of his mouth.

‘That wasn’t cool Sam, not cool at all.’ Was all Joaquin replied with, feeling a little silly for falling for an obvious prank -that and remembering that you were out on a rather simple solo mission- but his mind, heart and soul were that infatuated with you to a degree where all he needed for a good day was to see you.

If there was anyone aware of his own tell tell signs of being a lovesick idiot besides Sam, it was Joaquin and he couldn’t help but internally groan every time he was with you, knowing he was bound to do something stupid that would be clear enough for you to know his feelings as if he has written: I like you very much, and I would’ve done something more romantic then this, but please spare me and go out with me? Onto his own fucking forehead.

He can’t help how he feels but he swears that if he saw himself outside of his own body somehow, then he would wished to die as he could already see that he was far from subtle, especially with how eager he was to find his arm over your shoulder or grab you by the elbow when you were walking close to the road before switching sides with you. And that’s not to mention how eager he was to partner up with you on missions to the point where the team expected you two to be partnered together; Joaquin could still remember the knowing look upon Sam’s face whenever he did this, something that made him wonder if the rest of the team knew of his feelings, and something deep down told him that they did but didn’t say it like Sam did.

Sam pats him on the shoulder one he had recorded from laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. ‘Aww is someone sad that they’re not here and won’t be back until later this evening,’ he then narrows his eyes as he leans towards Joaquin, who tries to lean away from him but finds his attempt in doing so useless, ‘are you going to be first in line when waiting for them so you can hug them first or?’

‘I’m glad my feelings for them are amusing to you man.’ Joaquin says as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Sam only squeezed his shoulder, his teasing smile became reassuring, having already done enough testing of the poor man for a day. ‘I’m just trying to have you attempt to actually say something to them about your feelings instead of looking at them like a lovesick puppy!’

Joaquin raises his brow. ‘And teasing me about my feelings is your best solution?’ He asks sarcastically, which makes Sam give him an unimpressed look. ‘Just tell them when they get back or me teasing you will be the least of your issues.’ He says rather pointedly, as though it was a promise he’d keep if he didn’t uphold his end in all of this.

Joaquin groans, throwing his head back. ‘And how can I when all they have to do is batt their eyelashes at me and smile and suddenly I’m weak in the knees, it’s difficult, nothing will happen between us.’

Sam makes a face at this and remarks ‘it’s only difficult if you keep trying to finds ways in making it difficult, someone in love would leap at the chance to be with that person, not run away from it and make excuses.’ Sam then puts his other hand on Joaquin’s shoulder, looking him deep in the eyes so he knew he had Joaquin’s full attention. ‘So are you going to let the love of your life walk out of your heart and into the arms of another because confessing was too difficult for you, or are you going to finally allow yourself and them the happiness you both deserve with each other?’

Joaquin didn’t need to think all too deeply about it, he never did when it came to you as there was not a doubt in his mind that could have him questioning or second guessing himself, especially for when it came to matters of the heart as he often lead with it as much as his mind. The fear of rejection was strong but he knew Sam was right in what he says, he could claim that confessing would be the death of him but that would only be him speaking with fear, not his actual voice.

Joaquin’s actual voice would tell him to confess because he wouldn’t know unless he tried, he wouldn’t know whether you felt the same towards him or not, and making assumptions that you didn’t on your behalf wasn’t helping and might as well have been an insult towards you. He would speak truthfully from his heart and not let anything cloud his judgment, not even the hypothetical scenarios where it could all go wrong could deter him from speaking the truth, and all it took was for Sam to be serious with him about it.

‘No, I won’t.’ He says and Sam smiles, knowing that he finally gotten through to him.

‘Good. Now why you standing here for? Go get them!’ He then exclaims as he all but practically shoved Joaquin out of the room and in the direction that he knew you’d soon enough take when come back from a mission, wanting to destress from it all by changing in your comfiest clothes. Meanwhile Joaquin was trying to keep his resolve as he planned on meeting you halfway when he saw your figure from afar, a smile stretching across his lips as though it was second nature.

‘Joaquin?’ You asked.

‘In the flesh.’ He says as the warmth feeling started to blossom within his chest as he felt light on his feet as though he might start floating, but that was the usual feelings he got from being within your presence. ‘So how was the mission.’ He adds.

‘Nothing worth being haled a hero for. Only a simple get in and get out with important information that could destroy or save humanity depending whose hands are on it type of deal.’ You shrugged before deciding to change the topic of discussion. ‘How are you? I didn’t keep you waiting long did I?’ You added, wanting nothing more then to hear his voice after going long without it, even if it was a small mission it didn’t change the fact that you missed Joaquin’s ability to make them go by faster.

Joaquin chuckles as he steps towards you. ‘Not at all. If anything you have me at the best possible time, which so happened to be right now.’ He adds a little clumsily but it only made your smile widen as you took a step forwards him, solely for the purpose of being close to him and nothing more.

‘What is it that you’ve got on your mind that it can be only said right now pretty boy?’ You asked as casually as you could as to stop yourself from saying something stupid, not wanting to let your mind misread the situation before he could say what he needed to say.

Joaquin scratched the back of his head as he began to shifted his weight on one foot to the next, a habit you’ve noticed that only happened when you were near or complimented him in any capacity, it was cute but it made you wonder the reason behind such sheepish behaviour, when you knew the man was far more confident. Was it you? You couldn’t help but internally scoff at such a selfish thought, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

‘I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date?’ He asks you, all the while his heart within his chest was now in his throat as his hands became clammy with nerves, his feet feeling like lead that rooted him to the floor making him unable to move even if he wanted to. You hummed playfully. ‘Depends on who the person I’m going on this date with is.’

‘Me. It’s me. so go out with me before I start listing off 101 reasons why I think we’d be great together.’ Joaquin responded almost immediately and the sound of your laughter man the man feel as though he was on cloud nine, so when you reached out to touch his arm reassuringly, Joaquin swore he saw the rest of your conversation in some sort of outer body experience.

‘Yeah I’ll go out with you, as long as I still get to hear this 101 reasons though because I wanna cross reference some things to my own 101 reasons we’d be good together just to be certain.’ You replied, squeezing his arm as you leaned to kiss his cheek before passing him by, making sure to look back at him as you add over your shoulder. ‘See you then pretty boy!’

Joaquin only smiled dopily to himself as he pumped the air with his fist. ‘Fuck yeah!’ He says to himself as he all but walks past Sam with a swagger in his step, his mind completely elsewhere for him to realise that neither of you had chosen a time or a day for your fate.

#joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquin torres fic #joaquin torres fluff #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres #Joaquin Torres imagines #mcu x you #mcu x reader #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

222 notes · View notes

pitchsidestories · 3 days ago

Text

What do you fancy love ? II (Alexia Putellas x Jenni Hermoso x Reader)

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1495

summary: Reader is just a girl who is sometimes insecure, but her girlfriends remind her how important she is to them. requested

author's note: Hi everyone, thank you anon for the request, and hopefully you and the other readers will like this little fanfic.🩷🩷

disclaimer: Everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality. Slightly smutty ending.

You studied the photo on your phone closely. Tilting the device back and forth to avoid the glare on the screen and to find evidence of what you had told yourself over and over again in the past few days. It was Alexias’s post and naturally she looked stunning on it, smiling into the camera. Jenni was captured in side profile as she was turning towards you. She looked as cool as she always did. You were sandwiched between those two gorgeous women and the longer you stared at the photo, the less you felt like you fit in.

You couldn’t resist, your thumb instinctively clicked at the little speech bubble and the comment section opened. You already knew what was about to come.

Y/n just posted .. (let's pretend reader is Teresa in this picture)

User69: Are all three of them a thing?!

userloveswoso: no way. I mean Alexia and Jenni make sense but…

xXUserXx: yeah, they’re hot together but y/n kinda ruins it. Not sure what they want with her

You felt your stomach drop and your throat tighten immediately. While you continued to scroll through the comments, Alexias’s voice echoed through your shared flat: “Amor, where are you?”

The playful sing-song in felt completely out of place.

You cleared your throat and called: “In the bedroom!”

Instead of Alexia, Jenni shouted from the hallway: “Oh, I’m coming.”

You usually would have smiled about her eagerness to get into bed but right now, your eyes were still glued to that small screen in front of you.

Alexia groaned and scolded your girlfriend: “Jennifer, you can’t possibly always think of that one thing when you hear someone say the word bedroom.”

“What can I say? I was conditioned like a Pavlovian dog.”, Jenni laughed.

You felt their presence before you actually saw them standing in the doorway.

“Hi, did you get everything at the supermarket?”, you asked, forcing your voice to sound as casual as possible without looking up at them.

From the corner of your eye, you caught your girlfriends exchanging a glance.

“So, we’re not doing it?”, Jenni asked jokingly.

“Doing what?” You finally looked up at them and upon seeing Jennis’s smirk, you added: “Oh, you’re sure you don’t want to do it without me?”

Alexia frowned at you, her eyebrows knotting together in concern: “Okay, something is wrong. Tell us what’s going through your pretty head.”

“Pretty? Me?”, you repeated as she sat down on the bed next to you.

“Of course, you, you idiot.”, Jenni grinned from where she was leaning against the wall.

In contrast to hers, Alexias’s face was serious: “You act like we never say that to you.”

“The people seem to disagree.”, you said plainly and handed her your phone with a heavy heart. Jenni came over, leaning over Alexias’s shoulder as they both read through the comments.

The midfielder shook her head in disbelief. She was hurting for you as she saw what random people, complete strangers had to say about you and your relationship with them.:” Why would they say that?”

“Maybe they’re right.”, you whispered.

With a fierce passion Jenni disagreed:” No, those hiding behind their screens are wrong.”

Alexia said your name softly.

You almost couldn’t bring yourself to look in her beautiful hazel eyes. “Hm?”

“Don’t listen to them.”, she gently replied.

In your mind's eye, the hateful comments from the internet jumped out at you, and you quietly admitted: “It’s not that easy.”

“You can’t possibly believe that shit.”, the striker waved her hands in outrage.

In a tone that did not tolerate any protest, Alexia commanded: “Put the phone away for the night.”

“But..”, you started.

The blonde was quick to interrupt you:” You heard me.”

“Yes, relax, babe.”, Jenni tried to calm you down.

However, your thoughts left you no peace: “I don’t want to relax.” You could feel the panic rising in you as you spoke.

“You should though.”, Alexia responded.

Despite the worried look on your girlfriend’s faces, you observed:” No one says those things about any of you.”

“That’s not true, but besides who cares what they think?”, the raven-haired woman countered.

“I care, Jenni!”, you cried out.

It was in this moment that your lovers realized that you were in your early twenties, your career was on the rise, you still needed to learn how to deal with all of that outside pressure which came with being a public person.

The midfielder hated to see you so sad: “Calm down.”

To her great surprise, you got out of bed and announced: ”I’ll go for a walk.”

“Do you want us to join you or..?”, Alexia asked, sounding cautious.

Purposefully, you put on your shoes. You didn't have to think long about your answer to her question: ”No.”

As soon as you were on your way out, the door was just closing, the blonde let herself fall onto the bed with a tired sigh.

“Jenni, what do we do with her?”, her eyes wandered expectantly to her girlfriend who lay next to her.

Without giving it much thought, the older of the two suggested: “We have to show her that we know better than the stupid comments.”

“How?”

A dirty smile appeared on Jennis lips: “Well.”

“What if she’s not in the mood?”, Alexia objected.

The dark-haired woman began to stare at the ceiling, confessing with a wry smile: “Then I’m out of ideas.”

“Okay, we’ll try that.”, the midfielder decided.

A surprised laugh escaped Jenni's mouth: “Really?”

“Yes.”, she confirmed in a matter-of-factly tone.

It was early evening and there was a light breeze coming in from the sea that ran through your hair. The sunset was reflected in the water, which you could see from afar.

At the beginning of your walk, the anxiety weighed heavily on your young shoulders, but now that you were almost home again, you felt the weight lighten. The peace and beauty of the moment outweighed and calmed your inner turmoil.

“I’m back.”, you told your girlfriends once you stepped inside your shared appartement.

Again, it was Alexias voice floating over to you: “Come into the bedroom.”

“Uhm, okay.“, you said before you slipped out of your shoes and took a deep breath. You really didn’t feel like talking to your girlfriends again.

“Don’t let us wait.”, Jenni called too when you took too long to follow Alexias instruction.

You reluctantly did as you were told.

The bedroom looked a little different since you left it. There were candles burning everywhere and rose petals on bed. You had no idea from where they had appeared from. But most importantly, both of your girlfriends stood there in matching lingerie.

They looked incredibly hot but the sight of them like that was so surprising that it almost made you giggle: “Oh my god.”

Alexia reached out to you, gesturing to come closer: “Come here…”

“Seriously?”, you asked with a smile, still unsure if your eyes didn’t betray you.

Alexia nodded: “Yes, you know that I’m a serious person.”

“Hard to tell when you’re standing there in your underwear.”, you laughed.

Jenni, seemingly getting more and more impatient, walked over you with that typical mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Yes, and you, pretty girl, are still wearing way too many clothes.”, she grinned, her face close to yours. Skilfully, she slid her fingers under your sweater and started to lift fabric up.

“Excuse me? I didn’t say take them off.”, you protested jokingly.

Shrugging, Jenni pulled the shirt over your head: “No but I did.”

She immediately moved farther down, opening the button of your jeans.

Laughing, you pushed her away: “Stop.”

Alexia took Jennis spot right in front of you. Her thumb grazed over your cheek while she tenderly kissed your lips.

“Baby girl, do you still want us to stop?”

You blinked at her, your brain incapable of cooperating: “Uhm…”

None of your girlfriends moved until you gave them permission to keep going.

But you couldn’t resist, the desire was too strong.

You shook your head: “No.”

The smile Alexia and Jenni shared almost washed away the memory of these nasty comments again. They seemed genuinely happy that they were allowed to take care of you. You only realised that now. It wasn’t just about what you or anyone else thought. It was about what your girlfriends wanted. And they clearly wanted you.

Before you knew it, you laid on the bed in nothing but your underwear. Jennis fingers and Alexias lips were everywhere on your body. You loved it when they did that. It was almost like their playing styles on the pitch, complimenting and enhancing each other’s skills. There was no room for your own thoughts anymore. You were so absorbed in the action that you didn’t notice your phone sliding off the nightstand and landing under the bed. And if you had, you wouldn’t have cared. Their opinions were theirs, but your girlfriends made pretty clear that you belonged to them. That you were loved and desirable.

326 notes · View notes

writeriguess · 20 hours ago

Note

hiii may I request katsuki x reader where he has to go to a work trip overseas and reader stays home, where she finds out she’s pregnant (or it could be the other way around, we stan prohero reader) 🥹 ofc when he comes back she has the news prepared, please tooth rooting fluff 🫶🫶

Future Little Explosive

Katsuki Bakugo had been gone for just over a week on an overseas work trip, and it was already driving you insane. He called every night, making sure you were eating properly, locking up before bed, and not overworking yourself. He was as gruff as ever, muttering complaints about jet lag and how annoying his colleagues were, but you could hear the longing behind every word. He missed you. And there was something you hadn’t told him yet—something that made every call feel heavier with a secret.

You were pregnant.

The realization had hit you two days after he left, when your body felt off in a way that couldn’t be ignored. The nausea, the exhaustion, the unusual cravings—it all clicked together. A few tests later, and there it was: two solid pink lines staring right back at you. You had spent the following days in a mix of shock, excitement, and pure anticipation, thinking of how to tell Katsuki the life-changing news. You could already imagine his reaction—equal parts disbelief and sheer pride.

You had started picking at your meals more, wondering if you should change your diet already. You found yourself resting your hands over your stomach absentmindedly, marveling at the fact that a tiny life was growing inside you. The thought made you emotional at odd moments, and you cursed your hormones when you teared up over something as simple as dropping a spoon. More than anything, though, you wished Katsuki was home to experience this with you.

By the time he was due to return home, you had everything planned. You wanted it to be perfect—something that would catch him off guard in the best way possible. You decorated the living room subtly, nothing too flashy because you knew your husband would immediately be suspicious if he walked into something too extravagant. Instead, you placed a small, neatly wrapped box on the kitchen counter with a onesie inside that read: Future Little Explosive.

When the front door finally swung open, you practically ran to him, throwing your arms around his neck as he grunted in surprise, his strong arms instantly securing you against him. He smelled like the airport and faintly of smoke, but to you, it was the most comforting scent in the world.

“Missed me that much, huh?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was a tenderness behind it that only you ever got to hear.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, breathing in his scent. It had been too long without him.

He kissed your forehead before stepping back, scanning you up and down with narrowed eyes. “You look different.”

Your heart jumped, but you played it cool. “Long week.”

As he dropped his bags by the door and toed off his boots, you grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the kitchen. “C’mere, I got you something.”

He raised an eyebrow but followed without protest, his sharp crimson eyes flicking to the small box on the counter. “What’s this?”

“Open it and see.”

With a skeptical huff, he tugged at the ribbon and lifted the lid. His brows furrowed at first as he pulled out the tiny onesie, turning it over in his hands. The room was silent for a moment, and you watched as realization dawned on his face.

His grip on the fabric tightened slightly, eyes flicking up to meet yours, wide and searching. “Wait… are you serious?”

You nodded, tears already pricking at your eyes. “Yeah, Katsuki. We’re having a baby.”

For a second, he just stared, his jaw clenching like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. His fingers trembled slightly around the fabric, his breath shaky. And then, with no warning, he surged forward, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that was all passion, relief, and overwhelming love.

“Holy shit,” he breathed against your lips, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re serious?”

You let out a watery laugh, nodding. “Dead serious.”

A rare, unguarded smile broke across his face, something so raw and full of emotion that it made your heart swell. His hands, which had always been rough and calloused from years of hero work, were gentle as they moved to rest on your stomach. His touch was hesitant at first, like he couldn’t believe it was real. Then, he pressed his palm fully against you, his warmth seeping through your clothes.

“We’re gonna have a little brat running around, huh?” His voice was softer now, almost in awe.

You placed your hands over his. “Yeah, we are.”

He exhaled sharply, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Shit, I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Yeah, you are.”

For once, he seemed lost for words. His usual cocky attitude had melted away into something far more vulnerable, and it made you love him even more. He pulled you in again, holding you like he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, you knew—this was the beginning of something incredible.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

272 notes · View notes

mattscoquette · 9 hours ago

Text

reader going through perv!matt’s journal

“i’ll be back in a sec, i just need to run downstairs and help chris with something really quick.”

that’s what matt told you over ten minutes ago, and he’s still gone. you were over at the triplets place hanging out with nick, when matt insisted he show you both his new pc set up. it only took nick five minutes to be over it, but you felt bad when you saw matt’s defeatist expression after nick went back to his room. you decided to stay, but soon after matt abandoned you to go do something with chris.

you could’ve gone back upstairs with nick, but you let your curiosity get the best of you, and somehow you were going through matt’s bedside drawers, seeing what he had in there.

you knew matt had a thing for you, he made it very, very clear. although those feelings weren’t really reciprocated, it was fun to tease him. like, really fun.

before you could stop yourself, the leather binding of matt’s journal was in your hands, itching to be opened and read. you thumbed through the pages, reading matt’s chicken scratch handwriting while he wrote about whatever. you didn’t want to be too invasive, but his journal piqued your interest a lot. you wondered if he ever wrote about you, or if he only kept those thoughts in his head.

your eyes skimmed up and down the pages, nothing really standing out to you until you saw your name.

today y/n came over to see nick. she had on this rly short skirt, i think they were going out to a bar or something later. i don’t really care. i overhear her talking to nick about the guys she gets with. i could be so much better than them. i would make her feel so good, where she’d be begging me for more. god her moans are probably so fucking pretty.

your cheeks got hot as they blushed a deep red, fingers flipping to the next entry.

it’s been a few days since i saw y/n, i miss her so much. i’ve probably touched myself to her more times than i can count in the last day or two. i don’t know what it is with her, but she just gets me so worked up. she doesn’t even have to do anything and i’ll literally get hard from her. a couple weeks ago we were at her place and i heard her in the shower. it turned me on so much i couldn’t handle it. i want her so bad.

there’s gotta be something seriously deranged about me. every time that y/n sleeps over here, i always sneak up to nicks room and take a pair of her panties. she has to have noticed by now. i can’t help it though. i use them to get myself off. sometimes she has really pretty lace ones, other ones are really really skimpy. i don’t care though. i wonder what they’d look like on her. she’d probably think im a fucking creep if she ever really found out. i wonder what she’d do.

at this point, your stomach was doing somersaults, and your thighs were pressed together, trying to relieve the ache that had grown in your cunt. maybe it was weird what he was doing, but the level of obsession was turning you on. bad.

you were quick to find a pen somewhere in the bedside drawer, popping the cap off and scribbling underneath the entry in your loopy handwriting.

you naughty boy. you didn’t learn that stealing was wrong? i would probably punish you and not let you cum. i would tease you, get you all wound up and make you hold it. id use my pretty pink panties around your cock to get you off and let you cum in them after edging you for so long. maybe i’ll use my hands too, or my mouth if you’re really good for me.

you grinned to yourself as you shut the journal, drawing your bottom lip in between your teeth before returning the notebook to its rightful place, exactly how you found it.

you knew that matt wouldn’t do anything about it, either. he would see the note, and probably get off to it a million times, but never actually reach out to you. until then, he’d just have to learn how to keep pleasuring himself alone.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ inspired by this fic from my girl @st7rnioioss ♡︎♡︎ perv!matt is soooo back i miss that freak

#© mattscoquette #blurbs ♡ ˚₊‧#˳༄ ₊ perv!matt ୨ৎ #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine

231 notes · View notes

4linos · 1 day ago

Text

across the street pt. 4

bang chan x fem!reader, lee minho x fem!reader

synopsis: minho confronts chan after seeing how much his words hurt you. the tension between them escalates as minho stands firm in protecting your choices, asserting that your life and decisions are now in your hands, not chan’s.

wc: 4306

[part 1, part 2, part 3]

"Minho... I need to tell you something."

He felt his stomach drop. He couldn’t bear to hear you say it, couldn’t stand to watch you tear him apart piece by piece, so he forced himself to say it first.

"Just do it," he muttered, his voice colder than he intended. He kept his back turned to you, fists clenched at his sides. "If you’re going to leave me, just get it over with."

Your silence made his chest tighten. Was that confirmation? Was he right? His breath was unsteady, heart hammering painfully against his ribs as he waited for the inevitable words that would break him.

But then, you sobbed.

Minho’s entire body stiffened at the sound, his head snapping toward you. You stood there, hands trembling at your sides, tears streaming down your face. You weren’t saying anything, just crying so hard you could barely breathe.

His heart clenched, confusion flashing across his face. This wasn’t what he expected.

"Y/N?" His voice lost its earlier coldness, now laced with worry. He took a hesitant step toward you, resisting the urge to immediately pull you into his arms. "What—what’s wrong?"

You tried to speak, but your throat was too tight. You shook your head, wiping at your tears furiously, and Minho felt himself panic.

"Please," he breathed, hands gripping his sides as if to keep himself together. "Just tell me."

Finally, you managed to choke out the words. Words that shattered every assumption he had, every fear he had convinced himself was true.

"I’m pregnant."

The room went silent.

Minho stood frozen, staring at you as if you had just spoken in a foreign language. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He felt lightheaded, his thoughts struggling to process what you had just said.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

His breath hitched, his legs feeling weak beneath him. He felt so stupid, so guilty for ever doubting you, for ever believing you would leave him. All this time, while he had been drowning in his own insecurities, you had been carrying this alone.

Without thinking, he closed the distance between you, cupping your tear-streaked face in his hands. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he forced you to meet his eyes.

"Say it again," he whispered, voice unsteady.

You let out a watery laugh, sniffling as you looked up at him. "I’m pregnant."

Minho exhaled sharply, his forehead dropping against yours as a choked laugh left his lips.

Tears pricked at his own eyes, but he didn’t care. He pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it was as if he was afraid you’d disappear. You clung to him, burying your face into his shoulder as the weight of the moment fully sank in.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "I should have told you sooner."

Minho shook his head, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your head. "No, I’m sorry," he murmured. "I—I thought you were gonna leave me. I thought I was losing you."

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes filled with emotion. "I would never leave you, Minho."

His breath hitched, and he knew in that moment that he had never loved anyone the way he loved you. He gently placed a hand over your stomach, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your shirt.

"We’re having a baby," he whispered, the realization finally settling in.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you nodded. "Yeah. We are."

Minho let out a breathless laugh, his heart overflowing with emotions he couldn’t even begin to describe. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then finally your lips, pouring every ounce of love and relief into it.

"You’re stuck with me now," he teased, his voice softer than usual.

You chuckled, resting your hand over his. "I think I’ve always been stuck with you."

And for the first time in weeks, Minho wasn’t afraid anymore.

"Are you sure you’re happy?"

Minho had barely let go of you since you told him, still holding you close as he pressed soft kisses to your forehead, your hair, your cheeks. But every time you asked, his brows would furrow, his hands tightening around you like he needed you to feel how serious he was.

"Of course I’m happy," he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "Why wouldn’t I be?"

You swallowed, looking down at where his hand still rested against your stomach. "Because last time, I had to do it alone. And I was scared. I don’t want to—"

Minho cupped your face again, his gaze searching yours as he whispered, "You’re not alone this time."

His voice was steady, certain. Like there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind.

"I did this with you and Nari the final months," he reminded you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I’ll do it again. Every second of it. Even when you wake me up at 2 a.m. because you suddenly need a milkshake."

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers curling into his shirt. "That only happened twice."

Minho raised an eyebrow. "Twice in one week."

You pouted, but before you could argue, he kissed your forehead again, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

"I mean it, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. Not for the mood swings, not for the weird cravings, not for the sleepless nights. I’ll be here, through all of it."

Your chest ached, not with fear this time, but with overwhelming relief. With love.

Minho smiled, pressing his hand more firmly against your stomach. "Besides," he added, tilting his head. "I think Nari's gonna be pretty excited to be a big sister."

And just like that, the last bit of fear eased away.

"Do you want to tell h-" you had barely finished asking Minho if he wanted to tell Nari when a little giggle filled the room.

"Why are you guys hiding from me?"

Nari stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, looking between the two of you with big, curious eyes. Her little nose scrunched up as she stepped closer, climbing onto the bed between you and Minho.

Minho smirked, ruffling her hair. "We weren’t hiding, princess. We were just talking."

She squinted at him suspiciously. "About what?"

You and Minho exchanged a look, a silent question passing between you both. Should we tell her now?

Minho nodded slightly, and you turned back to Nari, taking her little hands in yours.

"Nari," you started gently, smoothing your thumb over her knuckles, "Mommy and Minho have something really special to tell you."

Nari’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, swinging her legs excitedly. "What is it?"

You took a deep breath, feeling Minho’s hand settle on your back in reassurance. "You're going to be a big sister soon."

For a moment, Nari just blinked at you, processing your words. Then, her whole face lit up with excitement.

"A baby?!" she gasped, looking between you and Minho with wide eyes. "Like a real baby?!"

Minho chuckled. "No, a pretend one."

Nari gasped again before realization hit. "Hey!" She playfully hit Minho’s arm, making him laugh as he pulled her into his arms.

"Yes, sweetheart," you giggled, smoothing her hair down. "A real baby. In Mommy’s tummy."

Nari placed her hands on your stomach dramatically, her eyes serious. "Is it in there right now?"

You nodded, watching as she carefully pressed her cheek against your belly, like she was trying to listen.

"I can’t hear them," she whispered.

Minho grinned, resting his chin on her head. "That’s because they’re still too tiny. But soon, they’ll start growing, and one day, you’ll get to meet them."

Nari pulled back, her little hands still on your stomach as she beamed up at you. "I’m gonna be the best big sister ever!"

You felt your heart swell, the sight of Minho and Nari together making every lingering fear melt away.

You smiled softly, running your fingers through her hair. "I know you will, baby."

The next morning over breakfast, Minho was still smiling ear to ear, unable to contain his excitement. Every few minutes, he’d glance over at you, his eyes full of warmth, and ask, “You feeling okay?”

You nodded, though you couldn’t help but yawn as you sipped your tea. “Just extra tired,” you admitted.

Minho reached over, rubbing small circles on your back. “You should nap after breakfast. I’ll keep Nari entertained.”

Nari, who had been munching on her breakfast quietly, suddenly looked up. “What about me?”

Minho grinned, ruffling her hair. “What about you, princess?”

“You didn’t ask if I was feeling okay,” she pouted.

You chuckled, and Minho dramatically gasped, placing a hand over his chest. “Oh no, my mistake! How are you feeling, Miss Nari?”

She giggled, taking another bite of her toast. “I’m good!”

The lighthearted moment was cut short when Minho turned to you again, his voice softer this time. “Are you going to tell Chan? About the baby?”

You froze for a second, staring down at your plate. You knew this conversation would come up sooner or later, but now that it was here, you weren’t sure how to answer.

“And,” Minho continued, his tone careful, “are you going to tell Nari about who Chan really is?”

Nari was still focused on her food, but you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. You had always known you couldn’t keep it from her forever. And now, with another baby on the way, the truth was bound to come out eventually.

You sighed, setting your fork down. “I… I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “I know I need to, but I just don’t know how.”

Minho nodded, not pushing you but still watching you closely. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said gently. “Just know I’m here, no matter what happens.”

You glanced at Nari, who was swinging her legs happily, completely unaware of the weight of the conversation happening around her.

You exhaled. “I’ll figure it out.”

You had been hesitant all week about whether to tell Chan about the baby. Was it really necessary? Did he even have to know? You weren’t sure. But when Chan asked to take Nari out for some ice cream, you agreed, deciding to push the thought aside for now.

The three of you sat inside the small ice cream shop, Nari happily swinging her legs as she dug into her strawberry cone. Chan sat across from you both, watching her with a soft smile before looking at you.

“How’ve you been?”

You shrugged, licking your own ice cream. “Same old, same old.”

Chan raised a brow, about to say something else when Nari suddenly gasped dramatically.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you something, Channie!” she said, eyes wide with excitement.

Chan chuckled. “Yeah? What is it, princess?”

“I’m gonna be a big sister!” she announced proudly, grinning up at him. “Mommy has a baby inside her tummy!”

You immediately stiffened, your spoon pausing mid-air. Your heart dropped as you glanced at Chan, whose expression had completely frozen.

He blinked. Once. Twice. “What?”

Nari was too busy taking another bite of her ice cream to notice the way the atmosphere shifted. “Yup! Minho said so! That means I get to help take care of the baby and teach them stuff!”

Chan finally turned to you, his jaw clenched slightly. His eyes flickered to your stomach before settling back on your face. “Is that true?” His voice was quiet, but you could hear the tension behind it.

You exhaled, placing your spoon down. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I’m pregnant.”

He stared at you for a long moment, processing the words. His fingers tightened around his cup. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”

You swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

Chan scoffed, leaning back. “You didn’t think you needed to?” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re having another kid, and you didn’t think I should know?”

You bit your lip, stealing a glance at Nari, who was still happily eating, oblivious to the tension thickening around her.

Chan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He was upset, but he couldn’t exactly lash out with Nari sitting right there. So instead, he looked at you with a forced calmness. “We’ll talk about this later,” he muttered.

And somehow, that made you feel even worse.

The rest of the ice cream trip was painfully awkward. Chan tried his best to keep his composure for Nari’s sake, nodding and smiling when she spoke, but you could see the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped impatiently against the table. You knew he was holding back, waiting for the moment he could finally say what was on his mind.

When Nari finished her ice cream, Chan offered to walk you both to your car. The air outside was cooler now, but the tension was suffocating. Nari was skipping happily ahead, completely unaware of how quiet the two of you had become.

As you reached your car, you bent down to buckle Nari into her seat, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before closing the door. When you turned around, Chan was already standing there, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight.

“So,” he started, his voice low but controlled. “You really weren’t going to tell me?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Chan—”

“Do you hear yourself?” he cut in, shaking his head. “You didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you were pregnant, but I had to find out from Nari? Again?”

You flinched at his choice of words. “It’s different this time.”

“Is it?” he challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel different. It feels exactly the same.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Chan scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So what, were you just going to wait until the baby was born? Until Nari slipped up?”

“I don’t know!” you finally snapped, exasperated. “I don’t know, Chan! I was going to tell you eventually, I just—” You ran a hand through your hair, your voice quieter now. “I just didn’t know how.”

Chan let out a bitter laugh. “You didn’t know how?” He shook his head, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “You don’t think I deserve to know?”

You sighed, guilt settling heavily in your chest. “It’s not about that. I just…” You hesitated. “I didn’t know if it was really necessary.”

Chan’s expression twisted, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Not necessary?” His voice was quiet now, almost defeated. “I get that you don’t need me anymore, but I thought we were at least trying to be honest with each other.”

That one stung. You bit your lip, looking down.

Chan exhaled sharply, shaking his head again. “Whatever,” he muttered. “It’s not like I have a say in anything anyway.”

You frowned. “Chan—”

“Just go,” he said, stepping back. “Take Nari home.”

Your heart clenched at the sight of him tired, frustrated, hurt. But there was nothing more to say right now. So you nodded silently, slipping into the driver’s seat.

As you drove away, you stole one last glance in the mirror. Chan was still standing there, watching you go, his hands clenched into fists.

Minho could tell the moment you walked through the door that something was wrong. You had that distant look in your eyes, the same one you always had when something weighed heavily on your mind. Nari, still buzzing from her ice cream date, ran off to her room to play, leaving just the two of you standing in the entryway.

Minho didn’t say anything at first. He just reached for your coat, helping you slip out of it, his hands lingering at your shoulders as he studied your face. “What happened?” he finally asked, his voice gentle but firm.

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “Nothing. It’s fine.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s a lie.”

You sighed, stepping around him to go further inside, trying to avoid the conversation, but Minho wasn’t going to let it go that easily. He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “Did he say something to you?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bring it up, but the way Minho was watching you made it clear he wasn’t going to drop it. “He wasn’t happy,” you admitted. “That I didn’t tell him myself. That he had to hear it from Nari.”

Minho scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course he wasn’t.”

“He said it felt exactly like last time,” you continued quietly, looking down at the counter. “That I didn’t think it was necessary to tell him.”

Minho tensed at that, his jaw tightening. He took a deep breath before stepping closer to you. “He doesn’t get to make you feel bad about this,” he said, voice low but firm. “He doesn’t have a say in your life anymore. The only thing he has a say in is Nari.”

“I know that,” you murmured.

“Do you?” Minho challenged, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Because you look like you’re carrying the weight of his feelings on your shoulders when you shouldn’t be.”

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “I just don’t want to fight with him.”

Minho’s expression softened slightly. He exhaled, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I know,” he murmured. “But you don’t owe him anything. This baby is ours. He doesn’t get to have an opinion on it.”

You nodded, but the guilt still lingered. You knew Minho was right you knew that logically, Chan had no right to dictate anything about your life now. But it still stung to see the look on Chan’s face when he realized you hadn’t intended to tell him at all.

Minho watched your expression carefully before pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “You’re not alone in this,” he whispered. “Not like before.”

You closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into his embrace, breathing in his warmth, his reassurance. And for the first time that day, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

The morning had started out like any other. You were in the kitchen, helping Nari with her hair while she finished her breakfast, her little legs swinging under the chair. Minho had just stepped outside to grab the mail, stretching slightly as the cool morning air hit him.

That’s when he saw Chan.

Chan was locking his front door, keys in hand, about to head to his car. Normally, Minho would have let it go, he wasn’t the type to seek out unnecessary conflict, especially with you and Nari inside but after yesterday, after seeing how upset you were when you came home, he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

His grip on the mail tightened for a second before he exhaled sharply and made his way toward Chan.

Chan noticed him immediately, pausing just before opening his car door. His brows furrowed slightly, already sensing the tension in Minho’s approach. “What?” he asked, voice laced with impatience.

Minho didn’t waste time. “What did you say to y/n yesterday?”

Chan blinked, caught off guard by the directness, before scoffing. “That’s between me and—”

“No,” Minho cut in, voice low but firm. “It’s not just between you and her anymore. You said something that made her come home looking like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I want to know what it was.”

Chan’s jaw clenched, clearly irritated. “I was upset. I found out about the baby from Nari, not from her.”

Minho let out a humorless laugh. “And? That baby isn’t yours. She doesn’t owe you an announcement, Chan.”

Chan’s expression darkened. “That’s not the point. It’s the fact that she didn’t even think to tell me. Like I didn’t even deserve to know.”

“You didn’t deserve to know,” Minho shot back. “Not unless she wanted to tell you. And clearly, she didn’t.”

Chan stepped closer, eyes flashing. “I have a child with her, Minho. I’m not just some ex she can cut out of her life. I will always be around.”

“I know that.” Minho didn’t back down, his voice unwavering. “And I’ve accepted it, no matter how much I hate seeing you around. But there’s a difference between being involved in Nari’s life and acting like you still have a claim over her.”

Chan scoffed, looking away for a moment as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to stay calm. “You don’t get it—”

“No, you don’t get it,” Minho snapped. “I was there. When she had no one. When she was alone and pregnant with your child, struggling every single day, wondering if she made the right choice. I was there when she cried herself to sleep, when she swore she’d never let herself get hurt like that again. And you know what? I was fine taking the backseat when it came to Nari because I respect that she’s yours too. But this baby? This life she’s building without you? That’s mine.”

Chan flinched at that, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at Minho, expression unreadable, his grip tightening around his keys.

The silence between them was thick, heavy with everything left unsaid.

Then, just as Minho was about to turn away, Chan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You think I don’t regret everything?” he muttered, voice quieter now, almost tired. “You think I don’t look at her and wonder what my life would’ve been like if I had known? If I had been there?”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “Regret doesn’t change the past. And it sure as hell doesn’t give you the right to make her feel guilty now.”

Chan looked away, tension still in his shoulders, but he didn’t argue further.

Minho didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked back inside, back to where you and Nari were waiting, leaving Chan standing there with nothing but the weight of his own mistakes.

When Minho stepped back inside, he took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering frustration from his conversation with Chan. But the second he saw you and Nari, the warmth of home, the contrast between the life he had with you and the past you had with Chan, his anger simmered down.

You were kneeling in front of Nari, adjusting the collar of her uniform while she happily munched on a piece of toast. She looked up at Minho with a bright smile, completely unaware of the tension he had just walked away from.

“You okay?” you asked, your eyes scanning his face, noticing the way his shoulders were still stiff.

Minho hesitated for a second, debating whether to tell you about the confrontation. He didn’t want to upset you, not when you were already dealing with so much. So instead, he sighed and forced a small smile, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I just really don’t like seeing him in the morning.”

You gave him a knowing look but didn’t push further. Instead, you turned back to Nari, brushing her hair behind her ear before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Alright, baby, time to go. Get your backpack.”

Nari hopped off her chair and ran off to grab her bag, leaving you and Minho alone for a moment. You studied him carefully, the way he was still a little tense, his jaw clenched just slightly.

“Did something happen?” you finally asked, keeping your voice soft.

Minho exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair before looking at you. “I talked to him.”

Your stomach sank. “Minho—”

“I had to,” he cut in gently, his fingers still wrapped around yours. “I know you didn’t want to tell me what happened yesterday because you were afraid I’d be upset, but seeing you come home looking like that? Like he had made you feel guilty over something that’s not his business? I wasn’t gonna just let that slide.”

You swallowed, guilt bubbling in your chest. You didn’t want Minho to get involved, but at the same time, knowing he cared this much, knowing he saw how much it had affected you, made your heart ache in a different way.

“What did he say?” you asked.

Minho scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “He acted like he deserved to know about the baby, like you owed him that. And yeah, I get it..he’s always going to be in Nari’s life. But this? Us? He has no say in that.”

You let out a breath, squeezing his hand. “I know.”

Minho softened at that, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “I just don’t want him making you second-guess everything. You don’t owe him an explanation for moving on, for being happy.”

Before you could say anything else, Nari came running back into the room, backpack bouncing on her shoulders. “I’m ready!” she chirped.

Minho let his hand drop from your cheek and turned to her with a grin. “Alright, let’s get you to school, princess.”

The three of you headed out, and as Minho drove, you found yourself glancing at him more than once, watching the way his fingers tapped against the steering wheel, the way his eyes flickered to the rearview mirror every so often to check on Nari.

You knew Minho had always been protective, but seeing how fiercely he stood by your side, how much he wanted to shield you from anything that made you doubt your happiness, it made you realize, yet again, just how much he loved you.

(nini’s notes: loved writing protective min🫠🫠. next part will be the final part!)

[taglist: @alisonyus @bowsnbang @mariteez @melanctton @candyquokka @mysterysold @st4rv3lly @supersonika143 @channiegetsmewetter @readr1221 @cafffeineconnoisseur @wickedbutlovely @trickyricki @hanniesbubuwife if you’d like to be added too let me know!]

masterlist.

150 notes · View notes

uki01 · 3 days ago

Note

Hi I was wondering if you could do yandere (if your comfortable) sonic, shadow, and silver with a gn reader who almost dies

”Living was the Easy Part.”

Sonic The Hedgehog, Shadow The Hedgehog and Silver The Hedgehog x Gender Neutral! Reader (Separately).

Author’s Note: Ooh first Yandere request! Thanks for the request! Time to put my angst and Yandere writing skills to the test! Also remember! It’s not healthy to stay with someone who’s possessive, obsessive with you and doesn’t let you have your own rights, space, freedom or peace. You control yourself, no body does, female? male? any gender? No, you control you, you are you, no body else’s. I don’t support Yandere at all, it’s not okay to do this in real life, if you know anyone like this, tell a close loved one or emergencies immediately. Stay safe y’all 🫶🏽

Warning: Death mentioned, Possessive, Obsessive, Overprotective, Yanderes! Heavy angst, blood, near death experience.

Sonic The Hedgehog

The battle was intense, Dr Eggman wasn’t playing anymore, he got all his robots sending down on Sonic and them.

You try to fend off as much as you can, seeing that all your friends, Tails, Knuckles, Amy and the rest are getting tired.

You looked over at Sonic who was fighting off so much robots as well with Dr Eggman, even if he was tired he still kept fighting through with a cocky grin on his face.

You hated seeing this, as Dr Eggman was about to launch his missile towards Sonic, you panicked and immediately grabbed a nearby weapon you found laying on the battle field.

Running towards Sonic, desperate to save him while Tails and the rest try to stop you from getting hurt, “Y/N! Don’t! It’s way to dangerous you’ll get killed out there!”

But you ignored all that, too focused on saving Sonic.

Even if he was already handling it, the thought of him being hurt made you feel useless, so you pushed Sonic aside as soon as Dr Eggman launched his missile and you whacked the missile away to a different direction but caused an explosion resulting you getting hurt in the process.

After gaining your vision, you were hurt very badly, your arm is burnt, you have scars everywhere and your face is covered in blood, you feel like collapsing but was determined to stay alive.

You can hear someone shouting out your name, you recognised that Blue Blur’s voice, except you didn’t hear the confident tone behind it, only a terrified but desperate one.

Once you found you lying in the middle of the battle field, he was already at your side, basically screaming at you. Carefully treading his arm, making sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore due to your state right now.

”Y/N! Oh my god thank god you’re safe, why the hell would you do that!? I had that handled! You could’ve died from Dr Eggman’s missiles!”

You told him you couldn’t let him die, but Sonic was bubbling with frustration when you said that and shouted back at you.

”But YOU COULD’VE DIED Y/N! Do you think I could go on if you were gone?! What would happen if that missile killed you huh?!… I knew I shouldn’t have let you on the battle field, I’m so sorry Y/N… I should’ve been faster…”

He carefully swoops you up and takes off with you in his arms out of the battle field. Taking you to Tails to aid you in your state right now.

After recovering from that, Sonic hasn’t let you out of his sight ever since, always standing close to you and making sure you are safe and sound.

As much as you we’re grateful for his concern he’s been in your space like almost every time, constantly always just being there with you, every where you go.

You told Sonic that you are fine now but Sonic just shakes his head and says this.

”What if Dr Eggman comes up again huh? What if he has a bigger and more threatening weapon that can kill you in one go? What if I’m not there, fast enough to save you? I cant let that happen, not again, I promise you that.”

As time moved one, the more overprotective Sonic gets, basically just your body guard. Going anywhere you go.

Going to the mall? Oh Sonic will go with you! He can help you carry your shopping bags! Going to the gym? He’ll come and train with you! Doesn’t want anyone looking at you while you workout, going for a jog? Oh he’ll tag along! Sonic loves exercise, it in his name and legs.

This kind of scares you more, as you try to tell Sonic that you need space and alone time, that’s when Sonic’s cocky and carefree demeanour falters and he starts looking like a wild animal or more… crazed.

”Are you serious? Space? After what just happened? No, no no no I can’t let you walk around free knowing that Dr Eggman can strike any time and I am not there to save you in time, you need me to protect you, I won’t let anything hurt you ever.”

Ever since, he has never let you out of his sight, he won’t trap you anywhere at the house you and Sonic are staying at since he hates oppression, but I’ll tell you one thing, if you try to run away from him, don’t even do it again, he’ll always be faster than you.

”Please don’t run away babe, you’re breaking my heart, I’m just protecting you, can’t you see that? I won’t let anyone dare to lay a finger on you, ever. Plus you can’t run away from me babe, so don’t run away, you’ll know I’ll always catch you.”

So no matter what you do. You cannot outrun him, Sonic will always be faster than you.

Shadow The Hedgehog

This battle was tough. Dr Eggman was not giving up, his robots fighting against Team Dark and you.

You can see across the battle field that Rouge is visibly tired but still fighting and so is Omega, who can’t get visibly tired but is getting bombarded with Dr Eggman’s robots. You look across to see Shadow who is fine but has a ton of robots on him too, hate to see him like this, so you grabbed a weapon that can shoot blasters.

You start running towards Shadow to save him, Rouge seeing you run over, confused but figured out what you are doing “Y/N! Stop! You’ll get killed!” She gets bombarded with other Dr Eggman’s robots.

You didn’t care though, what matters now is saving Shadow, as soon as the robots were launched onto him and so was Dr Eggman, he slide in just in time and hold Shadow close to your chest as protecting and aim the blaster towards the robots and Dr Eggman, blasting them far away but resulted an explosions blowing you and Shadow away from each other.

After you woke up, your vision finally starts to clear, you see Shadow watching over you.

Soon as he sees you finally awake, to your surprise, he hugs you tight, so close, afraid that he’ll let you go and basically scolding you.

”You idiot! Why would you do that! I had it handled! You know I can survive these kind of situations, you cannot throw yourself in like that you’ll get hurt! Or worse! Dead!”

You sighed at this, there wasn’t any malice in those words, he was just upset at what you did, telling him you didn’t want to see him get hurt in the process which makes him more angry with you.

”So you think it was a good idea to throw yourself, against Dr Eggman’s robots? You could’ve died Y/N, I am suppose to protect you, from now on, I am not letting you into any battles, ever.”

Ever since, Shadow started looming over you, watching your every move.

You feel like it’s just you whenever you go somewhere but Shadow’s always there, watching in the shadows like a hawk.

You’ve been feeling uneasy over these past few months, one day you confronted Shadow, you try to tell him in the most politest and nicest way possible that you need your own space, you are fine and you can handle yourself. But Shadow doesn’t take it lightly, he takes it like you said something offensive, so he narrows his eyes and scowls at you.

”You think you are better off without me? What just happened the last time we battled Dr Eggman huh? You almost died and you say you can handle yourself when we both know you are very selfless when it comes to saving people, so I am not going anywhere, there’s no one strong enough to protect you, you have me, only me.”

After you said that, he will always be with you if you need to go somewhere, you aren’t going out of his sights ever and if Dr Eggman is nearby, he forces you to stay inside the house. If you are ver tried to run off, Shadow will immediately chaos control to you, he’ll find you like a snap of a finger.

”You know this is all worth nothing right?, I can get to you just quickly as that, so stop trying to run damnit, can’t you see I’m trying to protect you? And your making it harder for me, especially when Dr Eggman is on the loose and I can’t check in to see if your okay, so please my love, stop running away.”

Shadow will always remind you if you try to run that he, is The Ultimate Lifeform.

Silver The Hedgehog

This battle felt like it went on for ages. Dr Eggman felt persistent today and it for sure was working.

Silver was using his telekinetic powers aganist Dr Eggman’s robots while Blaze was doing the same with her pyrotechnics powers.

You can see both of them visibly struggling, you grabbed a nearby rocket launcher lying around and run towards Silver who was trying to catch his breath while still fighting.

Blaze sees you running and tries to yell out to you “Y/N stop! Don’t go in there! It’s too dangerous!”

It didn’t matter though, what mattered is helping Silver.

As soon as Dr Eggman showed up and one of his robots were launched towards Silver, you stepped in front of him just in time and blasted the rocket launcher, aiming towards the robot and Dr Eggman.

But it caused an explosion which knocked you out unconscious.

Soon as you start stirring, you say up and see Silver by your side, soon as he sees you awake, he’s immediately hugging you, tightly while his voice cracks slightly.

”Why would you do that?! You almost died out there Y/N! Don’t you ever! Ever do that again! I should’ve have let you out there, I am so sorry sweetheart…”

You hugged him back reassuringly but this is just the start of your torture.

Ever since, Silver has been at your side, constantly sticking close to you, like a koala clinging onto a tree.

Always helping you to get something, find, lift or anything really, barely letting you do anything yourself or give some time to yourself as well, basically like your personal bubble wasn’t even a thing.

This was becoming overwhelming when the time passes by ever day, so you told Silver that as much as you appreciated his concern, it was just becoming too much now and ask for personal space and alone time, unfortunately Silver doesn’t take it very well.

”B-But I have protected you all these times! Does this not mean anything to you?! I swore that I would protect you with all my life, strength and what I’ve got left in me! Please please don’t let me go sweetheart!”

After that, it just became worse, you always saw Silver, every time, every day, never letting you go, never letting you have your own air or anything.

If you try to run off, Silver will use his telekinetic powers to find you.

”Sweetheart don’t you see what I’m trying to do for you? I don’t understand why you insist on leaving me when I’ve been the one by your side unlike anyone else, so please… I beg of you sweetheart… please don’t run, it’s no use.”

Silver will always be there, reminding you that it’s no use to run away from him, so please, just stay with him.

Author’s Note: This was fun to make, hope you enjoyed this!

REMEMBER! NONE OF THIS IS HEALTHY AND I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS. PLEASE CONTACT A CLOSE LOVED ONE OR EMERGENCIES IF YOU SEE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOUR TOWARDS YOU OR ANYONE. No one deserves to be treated like a prize, you are human.

Love y’all , stay safe 🫶🏽💕

122 notes · View notes

aspenmissing · 3 days ago

Note

Hi there!! Could you do please Arcane characters with an S/O that has a Dragon? Like the Dragon is still a baby and Reader found it and took it in. Sorry if thats too complicated to write

ꜰɪʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5371 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ/ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ (ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ), ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜɪʏᴀ! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʙʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴꜱ, ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍʏᴛʜɪᴄᴀʟ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ. ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ!!! <3 <3

JAYCE

The soft glow of Piltover’s streetlights shimmered against the cobbled roads as Y/N stepped cautiously into the workshop. The small bundle in her arms shifted slightly, its tiny claws digging into the fabric of her cloak. She winced but quickly adjusted, careful not to wake the slumbering creature nestled against her chest.

Jayce stood by his workbench, a mixture of exhaustion and frustration marring his features as he fiddled with one of his hextech designs. At the sound of her footsteps, he turned, his brows lifting in surprise. His face softened instantly as he took her in, a slow smile playing at his lips despite the fatigue weighing on his shoulders.

“Y/N? What are you—” His voice trailed off when he caught sight of the small, scaly snout peeking from beneath her cloak.

She sighed, stepping further inside. “Okay, before you say anything, I need you to promise you won’t freak out.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes. “That’s never a good way to start a conversation.” He stepped closer, arms instinctively reaching for her waist, pulling her in slightly as he peered down at what she was cradling.

Y/N slowly pulled back the fabric, revealing the sleeping dragon curled against her. Its tiny body rose and fell with each breath, scales glinting a soft iridescent blue beneath the workshop’s lighting.

Jayce sucked in a sharp breath. “Is that—Y/N, is that a dragon?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Technically? There’s no ‘technically’ about it! That’s a dragon.” He took a cautious step closer, voice dropping to a hushed whisper as if afraid to wake it. “Where the hell did you even find this?”

She bit her lip, fingers tightening slightly in his shirt as she leaned against him. “In Zaun. Some thugs had it caged up, planning to sell it. I couldn’t just leave it there.”

Jayce groaned, running a hand down his face before cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with quiet affection. “Y/N, do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

She cradled the baby dragon protectively, a stubborn glint in her eyes. “It’s just a baby, Jayce. It was alone, scared, and hurt. I had to do something.”

Jayce hesitated. He knew that look—she wasn’t going to budge. He let out a slow sigh, his arms wrapping around her fully, pulling her closer, his chin resting atop her head as his gaze flickered to the dragon again. It instinctively curled closer to her warmth, its tiny wings twitching slightly.

After a long moment, he pressed a kiss to her temple, voice softer now. “So, what exactly is your plan?”

Y/N offered a sheepish smile, shifting in his embrace. “I was hoping you could help me figure that out.”

Jayce let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Of course you were.” He glanced at the dragon again, his expression softening. “Alright… but we have to be careful. If the wrong people find out about this, it won’t just be the dragon in trouble.”

She nodded, relief flooding her face. She tilted her head up, brushing her lips against his in a silent thank-you. “I knew I could count on you.”

Jayce sighed dramatically, though his hands ran soothingly down her back. “Yeah, yeah. Just promise me you won’t bring home any more mythical creatures?”

Y/N grinned against his lips, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “No promises.”

Jayce groaned, but the way he kissed her deeper told her he didn’t mind as much as he pretended to. “Why do I even bother?”

She laughed, leaning further into him, the dragon chirping softly in its sleep between them.

A comfortable silence settled over them, Jayce pressing another kiss to her forehead before resting his chin against her hair. "We’ll have to keep it hidden for now. Maybe we can set up a proper space for it in the workshop—somewhere warm and safe."

Y/N’s eyes brightened. "That would be perfect. It’s been so restless, and I don’t think it’s used to being confined." She hesitated before whispering, "Jayce, I think it trusts me."

His arms tightened around her. "Of course, it does. You saved it."

The baby dragon stirred, letting out a small, contented chirp as it nuzzled against her chest. Jayce reached a hand out carefully, brushing his fingers against its cool scales. The creature shifted, letting out a soft coo but not recoiling from his touch.

Jayce chuckled, glancing at Y/N. "Looks like I’m winning it over."

She smiled warmly. "It knows you’re someone it can trust."

He smirked. "Well, let’s hope we can keep it that way. We don’t need a fire-breathing menace wreaking havoc on Piltover."

Y/N nudged him playfully. "Don’t be dramatic. It’s a baby."

"A baby that could grow up to be massive and set things on fire."

She laughed, shaking her head. "We’ll cross that bridge when we get there."

Jayce exhaled, resting his forehead against hers. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, you love me for it."

He grinned, kissing her once more. "Yeah, I really do."

VIKTOR

Viktor limped down the dimly lit hallways of the Academy, his cane tapping softly against the stone floor. The sound echoed, rhythmic and steady, a stark contrast to the swirling unease in his chest. His golden eyes flickered between the empty corridors, searching for any sign of her.

Where was she?

Y/N was never one to vanish without a word. If she had been caught up in an experiment, she would have at least left a note—some scribbled message pinned to his desk or a murmured farewell as she buried herself in her work. But today? Silence.

A frown tugged at his lips as he finally reached her private laboratory. The heavy wooden door was slightly ajar, a single flickering lantern casting golden light from within. Viktor hesitated for only a moment before pushing it open and stepping inside.

“Miláček?” His voice, laced with curiosity, cut through the quiet hum of the room. (Darling)

A clatter—followed by a muffled thump—made him pause.

Y/N nearly toppled over a stack of books as she spun around, her expression filled with something caught between shock and guilt. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk as if she’d been caught mid-crime, and the way she positioned herself—rigid, alert—immediately raised his suspicions.

“Oh! Viktor! Uh—hi!” Her voice was too high-pitched, too forced.

His sharp mind processed the situation within seconds. His brows lifted slightly as he scanned her from head to toe, noting the way her arms were planted behind her back, how she stood a little too still.

Viktor tilted his head. “Why do you sound like you are hiding something?”

She let out a nervous laugh, shifting on her feet. “What? Hiding something? Me? Nooo.”

He exhaled through his nose, unconvinced.

A flicker of movement caught his attention. Something… shifted behind her. Something small. Something with scales.

His gaze dropped to the floor, sharp as ever, and his breath hitched when he spotted it—just barely. The tip of a long, slender tail, dark with iridescent undertones, curled around the edge of her boot before disappearing behind her again.

His expression went unreadable. Slowly, deliberately, he met her eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low with suspicion, “what… was that?”

“What was what?” she stammered, shifting ever so slightly to block his view.

Viktor inhaled deeply, his patience thinning. “I am brilliant, yes?”

She gulped. “…Yes?”

“And you know this?”

“…Yes.”

“Then why do you think I would not notice the tiny dragon attempting to hide behind you?”

Before she could scramble for another excuse, a small puff of smoke curled around her shoulder, followed by a distinct, chittering noise that sounded very much like protest.

Viktor blinked.

Y/N winced.

“…Damn it.”

She sighed in defeat and finally stepped aside.

The tiny creature hesitated for only a moment before peeking out from behind her legs, its scaled head lifting curiously as it observed Viktor. It was no bigger than a housecat, its body covered in sleek, iridescent scales that shimmered between shades of deep obsidian and emerald green. Two delicate, curling horns adorned its head, and a pair of leathery wings folded neatly against its back. Its golden eyes—shockingly bright—blinked up at Viktor with unmistakable intelligence.

Viktor stared.

The dragon stared back.

A slow silence stretched between them.

“…I can explain?” Y/N offered weakly.

Viktor let out a long, drawn-out sigh, running a hand down his face. “I should hope so.”

Y/N crouched, gently scooping the tiny beast into her arms. It made a soft warbling noise, its tail curling lazily around her wrist as it settled into the warmth of her embrace. The movement was cat-like, affectionate, almost innocent—if one ignored the faintly glowing embers that flickered at the edges of its nostrils.

“I found him,” she explained, stroking the dragon’s sleek head. “Or, well… he found me. He was alone, abandoned in the Undercity. Viktor, I couldn’t just leave him.”

Viktor’s sharp gaze studied the creature. It nuzzled against her, exhaling a quiet puff of heat against her neck. It was clear, painfully so, that it had imprinted on her.

His eyes flickered to the bookshelves, where he now noticed a few suspiciously singed edges. A small pile of broken glass sat near one of her desks, the remnants of a shattered vial. His frown deepened.

“Y/N,” he began, rubbing his temple, “you have brought a dragon into the middle of Piltover.”

She cringed. “I know, I know! But he’s harmless—mostly.”

Viktor’s brow arched.

The dragon let out an innocent-sounding chirp.

Viktor’s eyes darted back to the bookshelves. Burn marks.

“…Mostly,” Y/N repeated, shifting the dragon slightly in her arms.

He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you have any idea what will happen if the Council finds out?”

She pouted. “That’s why I’m hiding him! I just—Viktor, look at him.”

She lifted the tiny creature toward him, and the dragon let out a small, inquisitive chirp, tilting its head.

Viktor hesitated.

The dragon’s golden eyes locked onto his, eerily perceptive.

Then, ever so tentatively, Viktor reached out with his free hand. His fingers brushed against the smooth, warm scales of the creature’s snout. The dragon trilled softly, leaning into the touch with a purr-like vibration.

Y/N beamed. “See? He likes you.”

Viktor exhaled, glancing between her and the tiny beast.

“I do not know what to do with you,” he muttered, but there was no real frustration in his voice.

Y/N grinned, stepping closer and resting her forehead against his. “You love me,” she teased.

His lips twitched upward in reluctant amusement. “That, I do.”

The dragon chirped again, its tail flicking in contentment.

Viktor sighed, pulling back slightly to study the creature once more. “We will need to find a way to keep him hidden,” he murmured, reluctant but resigned.

Y/N’s entire face lit up. “I knew you’d understand.”

Viktor let out another sigh, shaking his head. “I have a terrible weakness for you, můj drahý.” (My Dear)

The dragon let out a small, satisfied puff of smoke, as if in agreement. And just like that, Viktor knew his life had become infinitely more complicated. But as he watched Y/N cradle the tiny creature with such tenderness, something in his chest softened.

For once, he didn’t mind at all.

JAYVIK

The workshop in Piltover’s Academy wasn’t exactly the best place to raise a dragon, but Y/N made it work. It had all started when she found the tiny, shivering hatchling curled up near the docks, abandoned and alone. She hadn’t thought twice before wrapping it in her cloak and taking it home. Viktor and Jayce had been skeptical at first—especially Viktor, who pointed out the impracticality of raising a fire-breathing creature in a laboratory filled with volatile equipment—but neither of them could refuse Y/N when she looked at them with those pleading eyes.

Besides, the little creature had already curled up against Viktor’s side, purring like an oversized cat. It was as if Rio had already chosen them before they even had the chance to refuse.

“Well,” Jayce had conceded with a sigh, ruffling the baby dragon’s small crest, “I guess that means we’re parents now.”

It was a sentiment that had only grown truer in the weeks that followed. The dragon, whom Y/N had affectionately named Rio, followed them around with unwavering loyalty. It especially liked curling up in Viktor’s lap when he worked, much to his half-hearted annoyance, though Jayce swore Viktor secretly enjoyed it.

“This is highly inefficient,” Viktor muttered one evening, adjusting the blueprints he was working on while Rio’s tail flicked dangerously close to an inkwell. He tapped the dragon’s nose lightly with the end of his cane, urging it to move. “You are disrupting science.”

Rio gave a chirping growl, then promptly curled back into a tighter ball, refusing to budge.

“You’re just warm,” Y/N teased, leaning over Viktor’s chair to kiss his cheek before pressing another to Jayce’s forehead where he sat across the table. “He likes you.”

“Unfortunately,” Viktor murmured, though the corners of his lips twitched up in a small, amused smile.

Jayce leaned back in his chair, watching them fondly. “I mean, if I were a baby dragon, I’d want to snuggle Viktor too.”

Viktor shot him a half-hearted glare. “You already do.”

Y/N giggled, sliding into the chair between them. She watched as Rio finally shifted, climbing onto Viktor’s chest with tiny claws gripping at his vest. The sight was adorable—Viktor’s tired eyes blinking down at the dragonling now pressed against his ribs, its golden scales catching the dim light. Y/N reached out, gently running her fingers over Rio’s head, feeling the steady warmth radiating from his small body.

“Maybe we really are parents,” she mused, voice filled with wonder.

Jayce groaned playfully. “Does that mean I have to start acting responsible?”

Viktor snorted. “That would be a first.”

Y/N laughed, and the sound was warm, settling something deep within their shared space. She loved them—these brilliant, stubborn men who had somehow made a place for her and a dragon in their lives. Viktor and Jayce, for all their differences, both leaned toward her naturally, one at each side. It was a quiet but powerful kind of love, unspoken but deeply felt.

The night stretched on with quiet companionship—Rio’s soft breaths, the scratching of Viktor’s pen, and the occasional chuckle from Jayce. Y/N felt content, knowing that despite all odds, they had built something together.

A home. A family.

As the days passed, Rio continued to grow, becoming more mischievous and adventurous. He would often try to help Viktor with his work, much to the scientist’s dismay. The dragon had a habit of snatching small tools and scurrying away with them, only to return later with an innocent expression and a wagging tail. Jayce found it endlessly amusing, while Y/N would have to coax Rio into returning Viktor’s stolen items with treats.

There were moments of chaos too—moments when Rio would accidentally knock over stacks of notes, scatter blueprints, or let out tiny embers when he sneezed, sending Viktor scrambling to save his research. But there were just as many moments of tenderness, where Rio would nuzzle against their hands or curl up against their warmth, utterly content in their presence.

One evening, Y/N walked into the workshop to find Viktor asleep at his desk, Rio curled up against his chest, and Jayce sprawled out on the nearby couch, snoring softly. The peaceful sight made her heart swell. She approached quietly, draping a warm blanket over Jayce before carefully adjusting the papers near Viktor’s arm.

She smiled, realizing just how much her life had changed since she had found the dragon. They weren’t just three brilliant minds lost in their work anymore—they were a family, bound together by love, loyalty, and a tiny golden dragon who had found his home in their arms.

Y/N sat down beside them, resting her hand on Rio’s small form. As his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, she knew with certainty that no matter what challenges the future held, they would face them together.

VANDER

The first time Vander heard the deep-throated purr, he thought a Shimmer-mutated rat had broken into the bar. He’d reached for his gauntlets instinctively, scanning the dimly lit space of The Last Drop—until he saw Y/N, crouched by the fireplace, gently stroking something curled against her lap.

It wasn’t a rat.

It was a dragon.

Small, its scales a shimmering obsidian with flecks of gold, the creature had its wings tucked close to its body, rising and falling with each slow breath. Its tiny claws clutched at Y/N’s arm like a child clinging to its mother. The long, serpentine tail curled around her waist.

Vander sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Love,” he rumbled, voice filled with wary amusement. “What in the hells is that?”

Y/N turned, giving him a sheepish smile. “I found her in an alley near the smog tunnels. Her mother must have abandoned him or…” She trailed off, her face darkening with the unspoken truth: or she was killed.

Vander exhaled slowly, stepping closer, rubbing at his beard. “And you thought bringin’ him here was a good idea?”

“I couldn't just leave him,” Y/N defended, her eyes soft but determined. “He’s just a baby, Vander.”

A low whimper sounded from the dragon as if it understood. Its molten gold eyes peeked up at Vander before nuzzling deeper into Y/N’s arms. His heart clenched despite his better judgment.

He knew this woman. Knew the way her heart worked.

It was the same reason she was here now, tangled up in the lives of him and the kids, standing at his side even when things got rough. She loved fiercely—sometimes to a fault.

“Alright,” he said finally, dropping into the seat beside her. “But if it starts breathin’ fire, it’s sleepin’ in the basement.”

Y/N grinned, leaning into him. “Deal.”

The moment Vi laid eyes on the creature curled up in Y/N’s arms, she sucked in a sharp breath, eyes going wide with disbelief.

“No. Way.”

Mylo, perched precariously on the edge of his chair, jolted so hard he nearly toppled over. His arms flailed before he caught himself, his mouth hanging open as he gawked at the little dragon. “Holy shit, is that a real dragon?!”

Y/N shot him a look, raising an eyebrow. “Language.” Despite the scolding, the amused tilt of her lips gave her away.

Claggor and Powder leaned in from behind, craning their necks for a better view. Powder, her blue eyes shimmering with awe, clasped her hands together. “She’s… so pretty.”

The dragon, no longer curled up defensively, lifted her sleek black head at the sound of Powder’s voice. Golden eyes flickered with curiosity as she let out a soft, trilling chirp. A tiny wisp of smoke curled from her nostrils before vanishing into the air.

Powder gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth. “She breathes smoke,” she whispered, as if the dragon were some kind of enchanted relic from a bedtime story rather than a living, breathing creature right in front of her.

Vi, still practically vibrating with excitement, took a step forward, hand outstretched. “I wanna pet her.”

Before her fingers could make contact, the dragon let out a warning hiss, wings flaring slightly. The movement was quick, defensive—not aggressive, but enough to make Vi freeze in place.

Y/N ran a soothing hand along the dragon’s back, her touch firm but gentle. “Easy,” she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. “She’s still getting used to everyone. Try slower.”

Vi hesitated, glancing at Y/N for reassurance before carefully extending her hand again, this time much slower. The dragon sniffed her fingers, golden eyes studying her for a long, tense moment. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she let out a soft, purring sound before rubbing her head against Vi’s palm.

Vi’s face lit up like the Undercity’s Progress Day fireworks. “She likes me!”

Powder took a careful step forward, her hands clasped close to her chest. She hesitated before reaching out, fingertips just barely grazing the dragon’s long, whip-like tail. “Does she have a name?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N exchanged a glance with Vander, who had been leaning against the bar with his arms crossed, silently watching the whole scene unfold.

“We haven’t named her yet,” Y/N admitted, tilting her head. “I thought maybe you all could help.”

The moment the words left her mouth, the kids exploded into a flurry of excited suggestions.

“Pyra!” Mylo blurted, grinning. “Because, y’know—fire.”

Vi scoffed. “That’s too obvious. What about Shadowfang? She looks sneaky.”

“What about Smog?” Claggor offered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Like the steam clouds near the factory pipes.”

Powder, silent amidst the chaos, furrowed her brow in concentration. Her eyes flicked toward the dragon, studying her sleek obsidian scales and the soft flickers of ember-like glow between them. After a moment, a small, knowing smile touched her lips.

“Ember,” she whispered.

The dragon lifted her head at the sound of the name, gold eyes locking onto Powder’s as she let out a pleased little chirp, wings twitching slightly. It was as if she recognized it—like the name was already hers, just waiting to be spoken aloud.

Y/N repeated it, testing how it felt on her tongue. “Ember.” She glanced at Vander. “What do you think?”

Vander let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head as he pushed off the bar. “Far be it from me to argue with a bunch of stubborn kids,” he said, his voice rich with amusement. His gaze softened as he watched them all huddle around the tiny dragon like she was the most precious thing in the world.

“Ember it is."

SILCO

The dim glow of Zaun’s neon lights barely filtered through the heavy curtains of Silco’s lavish yet brooding quarters. Shadows stretched across the room, a mix of smoke and twilight settling into the space you shared with him.

You held your breath, carefully unwrapping the bundle of warmth nestled against your chest. The tiny dragon—scales iridescent like an oil slick, shifting between deep blues and rich purples—curled into your arms, letting out a soft chirp. Its wings twitched, still too small for proper flight, and its golden eyes blinked up at you, trusting.

"Shh, little one," you whispered, stroking the fragile crest atop its head. "He won’t like this, but I couldn’t leave you out there alone."

The dragonlet cooed, its serpentine tail curling around your wrist as it nuzzled into your touch. A pang of sadness hit you as you recalled where you’d found it—alone, trembling in the damp, filthy alleys of Zaun, barely clinging to life. It had been weak, starving, and shaking from the cold. A creature abandoned by its kind, left to fend for itself in a world that had no place for something so delicate.

You knew what it felt like to be abandoned. To fight for survival in a place that cared nothing for you. And perhaps, that’s why you couldn’t walk away.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced the sleek curve of its back when the door suddenly swung open with force, the impact making your heart lurch.

"Y/N."

Silco’s voice, sharp and edged with irritation, cut through the quiet like a blade.

Your head snapped up, instinctively shielding the dragonlet against your chest. Silco stood in the doorway, his mismatched gaze narrowing as he took in the sight before him—you, cradling something in your arms with the same tenderness you usually reserved for him.

His lips parted, his breath sharp with disbelief. "What in the hells do you think you’re—"

Then, he saw it.

The dragonlet peered up at him from your arms, its golden eyes reflecting the neon flicker from outside. The moment stretched between you, thick with tension.

For a heartbeat, nothing moved.

Then, in a burst of panic, the tiny creature let out a shrill cry, its wings flaring as it scrambled in your grip. Tiny claws swiped wildly in fear, and before you could steady it, pain flared hot and sharp across your palm.

You sucked in a breath, wincing as warm blood beaded along the fresh gash trailing down your wrist.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Silco’s stance shifted, his body moving with the deadly precision of a man who had lived his life on a knife’s edge. His blade was out in an instant, gleaming in the dim light, his movements fluid, practiced—lethal.

The dragonlet screeched, flattening itself against your chest in fear.

"Silco, no!"

Your voice was raw with urgency as you threw yourself between him and the trembling creature, your injured hand pressing against his chest to halt his advance.

His mismatched eyes snapped to yours, sharp as broken glass. "It attacked you," he hissed, his grip tightening on the blade’s hilt.

"It was scared," you countered, voice steady but pleading. "You frightened it. Just like you're doing now."

His jaw clenched. The dragonlet let out a pitiful whimper, pressing itself into you as if it could disappear into your skin.

Silco’s gaze flickered between you and the creature, calculating. His nostrils flared as his eyes dropped to your bleeding hand, and for a terrifying second, you thought he might not stop. That he might strike anyway, out of principle, out of instinct.

But then—hesitation.

It was brief, almost imperceptible, but you saw it.

Your voice softened. "Please, Silco."

A tense silence followed.

Then, with an exasperated sigh, he stepped back, sheathing his blade with an irritated flick. "You have a habit of collecting strays," he muttered, running a hand down his face. His tone was somewhere between fondness and frustration.

Relief flooded through you, leaving your shoulders slack. Your lips curved slightly. "Only the ones that need me."

Silco’s eye lingered on you, his expression unreadable. His irritation warred with something deeper—something he wouldn't voice, not yet.

You knew him well enough to see it.

With a groan of resignation, he moved toward the nightstand and grabbed a clean cloth. Without a word, he took your injured hand in his, inspecting the wound. His grip was firm, yet careful, his thumb brushing against your palm as he worked.

"You’re bleeding," he muttered, as if you hadn’t already noticed.

"You noticed," you teased, wincing as he tightened the cloth around your palm.

"Of course I did," he scoffed. "What kind of fool lets a dragon carve into them and doesn’t flinch?"

You smirked. "The kind who knows she can handle it."

Silco shook his head, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary before he pulled away. His attention returned to the dragonlet, still curled against you, wary but no longer trembling.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Fine," he muttered. "It stays."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

Silco shot you a glare. "But—" he continued, voice firm, "if it burns down my study, it's on your head."

You beamed, pressing a swift kiss to his scarred cheek. "Noted."

Silco grumbled something under his breath, but he didn’t pull away.

Behind you, the little dragon let out a happy chirp, its tail flicking playfully as it nuzzled against you. It was still cautious of Silco, but something in the way it regarded him now held less fear.

Silco huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?"

You laughed softly, scratching the dragonlet under its chin as it purred in response.

"Maybe," you said with a smirk, "but you’ll love it anyway."

JINX

Zaun wasn’t exactly a pet-friendly place. Unless your idea of a pet was a rabid sump-rat or a mutant lizard that glowed in the dark, you were out of luck. Most animals down here weren’t exactly the friendly kind—they either wanted to bite, poison, or explode on you.

That’s why, when Y/N found the tiny, shivering creature curled up in a pile of old scrap metal near the Lanes, she didn’t hesitate to take it in.

At first, she thought it was just some weird, overgrown gecko—until it sneezed and nearly set her jacket on fire.

“Okay. Not a gecko.”

It was a dragon. A real, actual dragon.

Zaun didn’t have dragons. Dragons were myths, Piltover stories told to rich kids who’d never set foot in the undercity. But this one was real—small, covered in deep sapphire scales, with flickers of violet fire glowing beneath its skin. Its eyes were large and bright, somewhere between pink and electric blue, like neon signs in the dark.

Y/N had no idea where it came from, or how it had ended up in Zaun, but she did know one thing: she wasn’t leaving it behind.

She named it Blue.

Keeping a fire-breathing creature in Zaun wasn’t easy, but Y/N made it work. She stole food from the markets, set up a warm little nest in the corner of her hideout, and, most importantly, kept Blue secret. Because if the wrong people found out, someone would try to take it away.

Maybe Silco would want it as a weapon. Maybe the Chem-Barons would try to sell it off. Maybe Piltover would come crashing down, all polished gears and self-righteous justice, to steal it like they stole everything else.

So Y/N stayed quiet. She kept her dragon hidden.

Then Jinx found out.

Of all the ways Y/N had imagined this going, hearing Jinx scream “HOLY SHIMMER-SUCKING CHEMPUNK, YOU HAVE A DRAGON?!” at the top of her lungs was not at the top of the list.

“Shhh!” Y/N hissed, immediately slapping a hand over her friend’s mouth. Blue, curled up in her arms, let out a startled little chirp at the outburst.

Jinx immediately peeled Y/N’s hand off her face, vibrating with excitement.

“Y/N. Y/N. Y/N.” She shook her friend’s shoulder violently. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a tiny murder-lizard?!”

“Because I knew you’d freak out exactly like this!” Y/N groaned.

Jinx ignored her, already crouched down to eye-level with the little creature. Blue blinked at her, tongue flicking out like a snake as it sniffed at her hair.

“Oh my god.” Jinx clapped her hands together, nearly shaking with glee. “You have a baby dragon. Like, an actual dragon.” Her blue eyes were wild with excitement. “This is the best day of my entire life.”

Y/N sighed. “Look, just keep it down, alright? I don’t want people knowing—”

“Oh, oh, oh, oh! Do you think it explodes?!”

“NO. And don’t you dare try to find out.”

Jinx huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re no fun.”

Y/N gave her an unimpressed look. “I’m plenty fun. I just don’t want my baby dragon to go boom.”

Jinx pouted, but her curiosity quickly overtook her sulking. She reached out a careful hand, poking at the little dragon’s soft, scaly belly. Blue let out a high-pitched coo and immediately curled around Jinx’s wrist like a cat.

“…Okay, that’s pretty adorable.” Jinx grinned, gently ruffling Blue’s head. The little dragon hummed contently, pressing into her hand like a needy pet. “How much do you think it’s gonna grow? Like big big? Big enough to ride?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted. “I just know I’m keeping it safe.”

Jinx was quiet for a moment—too quiet. When Y/N looked up, she saw something flicker across her face. A brief moment of something unreadable. Something almost… soft.

Then Jinx smirked.

“Well, good thing you got me, huh?” She stretched, hands behind her head. “Nobody’s gonna mess with you ‘n your little fire hazard while I’m around.”

Y/N huffed a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just… try not to teach it anything too dangerous, okay?”

Jinx gasped dramatically. “How dare you. I would never corrupt an innocent baby dragon with explosives and chaos.”

Y/N just stared at her.

“…Okay, maybe a little.”

Blue let out a happy little chirp, nuzzling into Jinx’s hand, and Y/N knew, for better or worse, she and her dragon had just gained the most unpredictable babysitter in Zaun.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jinx x platonic!reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #vander x reader #silco x reader #jayvik x reader

102 notes · View notes

arbitrarykiwi · 11 hours ago

Text

Etched in Ink

Nam-gyu x TattooArtist!Pierced!Fem! Reader Smut Fic

Summary: when Nam-gyu decides it’s time for a tattoo, he asks his best friend, Thanos, where he goes. Thanos raves about his tattoo artist and urges Nam-gyu to schedule an appointment with you. Nam-gyu could not prepare himself for the fact this highly praised tattoo artist is so fucking hot.

Warnings: smut (18+) , reader is described as being tattooed , reader has piercings (tongue, nipple, clit) , oral (f receiving) , p in v sex , creampie , name calling (i think whore like once) , dirty talk , read at your own risk

When Thanos told him that he knows a “fucking crazy good” tattoo artist, he was intrigued.

Nam-gyu had his fair share of ink, multiple pieces littering his skin in intricate vibrant lines. But, he got all the ones he had from some shady underground parlor or even someone’s basement. With the new desire to have the tattoo needle against his skin again, this time with an idea for something much larger than what he gotten before- he decided it was time to find someone a bit more reputable.

So he asked Thanos- the purple hair rapper having a large tattoo of his name down his back, the lines are crisp, the black ink rich and even- simple as the design was, Nam-gyu couldn’t lie, the attention to detail and the skill of the artist was apparent.

Thanos was quick to boast about his tattoo and the artist he got it from, telling Nam-gyu he just had to take him to the place he goes to, to see the specific artist he went to. And hell, with how serious Thanos seemed about his holy grail of a tattoo artist- he agreed.

So he made an appointment on your website. It was easy enough, you had quick availability. So he set a date, paid the deposit and waited (not so) patiently for the tattoo day to arrive. It was late appointment, 8pm. Which was something Nam-gyu appreciated, as an insomniac he preferred to do stuff during the night- and a late night tattoo session sounded like just what he needed.

Thanos had brought him, claiming he just wanted to see you anyway, despite not getting a tattoo himself. Sure, Nam-gyu thought that was odd, he didn’t see why Thanos would want to go out of his way to see a tattoo artist for no reason, but he thought it had to be you were just a chill dude.

But when he walked into the shop with Thanos, and you came up to greet them. He was floored.

You were obviously a female…very obviously. You wore a black tank top, hemmed with lace. It’s tight fitting and low cut, he can’t help but stare at your cleavage and the chest tattoos that litter your skin. He thinks they accentuate one another in the most perfect way.

Your hair was pulled back and you were drying off your hands. He could see tattoos along your arms and hands, spaced out and each eye catching in their own right. He assumed your legs must be the same even though he couldn’t see them due to your pants.

“Hey! You must be Nam-gyu.” You say with a smile. Thanos looks over to Nam-gyu, eyes saying everything. ‘See this is what I was talking about’

Not only were you a good tattoo artist, you were so fucking hot. Nam-gyu gathers himself, nodding his head slowly, “Y-yeah.” He says clearing his throat, a pathetic attempt to hide his surprise and dry mouth.

“Perfect! I’m actually so excited, I really like the ideas you sent me.” You say waving the both of them over to your station. He finds it endearing the way you talk so excitedly about his tattoo. He sent you various pictures of what he wanted, a sharp, detailed, abstract line style tattoo that was planned to start on his arm, go up his shoulder and to his chest.

Your voice and kind tone is such a drastic contrast from your physical appearance- a vixen. You were dangerous. Such a kind sweet face and voice with a body that was straight sin.

He starts to think that Thanos set him up. He knew you were this hot, and knew Nam-gyu wanted a chest piece, now he has to deal with you touching on his chest. Fucking great. He’s bringing his hand up to his mouth, silently laughing in a sardonic manner to himself. He was so fucked.

You’re so short compared to him, looking up at him as you talk, gesturing to the tattoo chair for him to sit down. He follows your orders. You sit down across from him on a circular stool, grabbing your iPad to show him the design you came up with.

“You need me to get you a seat, Thanos?” You call over your shoulder, not even looking up from your tablet. Nam-gyu looks over to Thanos who is not so subtly checking you out. It was like Thanos was undressing you with his eyes. Nam-gyu couldn’t blame him.

“Nah I’m good cutie, just came to drop him off.” Thanos says, you laugh and stick your tongue out playfully. Nam-gyu thinks all the blood he was fighting not to rush to his cock was a fight he was not going to win. On your pink tongue was a silver ball- you had a tongue ring. Jesus Christ, you were going to kill him before you even got the stencil on.

“Alright then get going, don’t need you just standing there. He’s a big boy, got some tattoos before. He’ll be fine. I’m not gonna bite.” You say turning back to Nam-gyu and winking. He sucks in a deep breath and nervously chuckles, shifting in the seat to hopefully conceal the growing erection in his pants.

“Mhm…” Thanos says, finally pulling his eyes away from the view of your back and the red lace thing that was peeking out from your jeans. “Don’t fuck him up too bad, he’s still gotta pay his rent tomorrow.” Thanos says with a teasing grin, looking to Nam-Gyu with a devious grin. He definitely knew what he was doing bringing Nam-Gyu here.

“I won’t mess him up…too bad…” You tease as you begin to put on your gloves. Nam-gyu inwardly groans, even your gloves are pink. You’re like a cute princess in the body of a succubus…he was not going to make it through this session. He’s looking up to the ceiling, saying a silent prayer to himself to try and calm down the erection that’s threatening to become obvious. “I’ll take real good care of him.”

Nam-gyu kisses his teeth, sucking in a shuddering breath he’s thankful you don’t hear. His mind is spinning, he swears he heard a purr in your words, like you’re insinuating the same idea that he’s trying to wipe from his mind. He can stop thinking about how you’d look with his cock shoved in your mouth or how you’d look as he fills you to the brim- sinking his cock deep into your pussy. He bets you have the prettiest moans.

He hates his mind- he really does. He never claimed to be a good person but he normally wasn’t this debauched. You’re just a tattoo artist trying to make a living, having friendly banter with clients and here he was thinking about fucking you stupid….yeah great person he was. He thinks that he completely imagined the purr in your voice, he’s just too horny and imagined it.

But when he looks back to Thanos, and sees his expression. Nam-Gyu realizes he didn’t make it up. You did have a distinct tone to your words that even Thanos caught on to. Thanos has an eyebrow raised, like he’s picked up on your words insinuation. His grin widens and he’s winking at Nam-Gyu. “Well then, I’ll take your word for it..” Thanos says in a teasing sing-song voice as he’s crossing the floor and leaving the tattoo shop. “Have fun you two!” The purple haired rapper calls out, like a father seeing off his son and date to prom.

Nam-gyu hears the bell on the shop door ring as it’s opened and closed. Now you two are truly alone. His body feels oh so hot, his pants are uncomfortable and his eyes have not left the ceiling since Thanos walked out. He fears that if he looks at you he might just cum in his pants. He is praising and cursing Thanos simultaneously. Why did Thanos wait so long to show him the work of art personified that was you?! Why did Thanos set him up deliberately?! He couldn’t decide which pissed him off more, the fact Thanos was harboring you like a secret for years or the fact that Thanos deliberately kept you a secret to get Nam-Gyu flustered when all he wanted was a tattoo.

“You want this on your chest and upper arm right?” You say, it brings him out of his trance but he doesn’t look at you. “Mhm.” He says simply, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes nearly roll back into his skull when you giggle and scoot your chair closer to the seat he was laid back on. “You’re gonna need to take this off.” Your fingers pinch his shirt and pull it up teasingly.

Nam-gyu thinks he’s being tested. All the shitty things he’s done in life have led up to this and now he’s put on trial. Forced to act normal when he can’t get over how incredibly sexy you were. It was a real tragedy. He sits up at bit, pulling his shit over his head and balling it up in his lap.

You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes wander over his bare torso. He was fit, not too muscular, not too thin. He was sculpted like some Greek god. You swallow thickly, trying to remain professional as you grab the tattoo stencil.

You scoot your chair close to the bench he’s laid back on. “Just gotta prep the area.” You smile sweetly, leaning over him. He nods, not able to form words as your gloved hands touch his bare chest. You do the prep work, shaving the area and wiping it down. You don’t miss the way his chest shutters with each breath he takes. Anytime your hands come into contact with his chest you can feel how his heartbeat is practically jumping out of his chest.

When you put the stencil down and run your hand along the expanse of his shoulder and chest he is praying you didn’t realize how his eyes rolled into the back of his head. You definitely did, but you didn’t say anything about it.

“Let me know how that looks.” You chirp, bringing him out of the trance you had put him in. He clears his throat and nods, sitting up and hopping off the bench to the walk over to the mirror in your studio. He admires the stencil, it’s an intricate abstract design that spans across his shoulder to his chest. It’s kickass, not only were you built like straight sin, you were a great artist. He sent you many images for inspiration but somehow the design you came up with is even better than any image online he could find.

“Looks good.” He manages to get out, catching your eyes in the mirror. You roll your eyes and raise an eyebrow playfully. “C’mon if there’s anything you wanna change I can fix it. Is the design what you wanted? The placement alright?” You say, he thinks it’s cute how serious you get about your work- wanting to make sure he really likes the ink you’re about to place into his skin. He laughs, as hard and as flustered as you make him; you were so easy to talk to. You had an air of confidence around you that just drew him to you. You were funny, your voice was so sweet, and you were dedicated as a tattooer. Would it be too forward to say fuck the tattoo and just take you on a date now??

He looks at the tattoo again, really looks at it, and he still doesn’t see anything that needs to be changed. “It looks so fucking good. You really did great with the design.” He says genuinely, admiring the blue ink of the stencil that litters his chest. His eyes look back to catch your face in the mirror again, your smile is wide, proud and you’re dancing excitedly in your chair. “Perfect! Sit back down n’ we can get started!” You say oh so happily, it’s such an endearing tone Nam-Gyu thinks he’s going insane. He’s never wanted someone as much as he wanted you.

He follows your orders and settles back down into the seat, it’s slightly leaned back allowing him to sit comfortably and you to have all the room you need to tattoo. He can’t help but to stare shamelessly as you work with the materials in your small corner of the studio, grabbing the ink and needles. You work so effortlessly, he knows you’ve probably done this hundreds of times but you’re so in the zone he feels like he’s watching a movie about a hot tattoo artist. And it’s all a private viewing just for him to see.

You scoot the chair back up next to where he’s sat, tattoo gun in your hand. “Ready?” You ask and he nods, “mhm.” He can’t bring himself to say much else, he’s trying to think about how he’s going to make it through the next couple hours as you’re oh so close to him and touching on his chest. “Yay! Let me know if you need a break or anything.” You say excitedly, he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face at your cute display of excitement.

When he feels the first sing of the needle in his skin he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s a pain that he’s come to love, a way of feeling something when he’s not on drugs. The drawn out bite of the needle for hours on end almost lulls him to sleep most the times he’s gotten tattooed. Each tattoo he gets he thinks adds something to him that he can’t quite place. He would love nothing more than to be sung to sleep by the hum of the tattoo gun and the sting of the needle, but he can’t even focus on that when he feels your hands gliding across his skin so slowly and meticulously.

He adjusts his arms slightly, letting his palms fall into his lap and cup over the bulge that he knows is beginning to form in his pants. Part of him feels guilty, you’re just trying to do your job and here he is acting like a dog in heat. He can’t help it, you are so fucking sexy. It’s not even the ‘sexy’ that he would attribute to pornstars, no not at all. You’re a salacious deity, effortlessly attractive in every minuscule thing you do, a lustrous vixen that’s built out of straight sin. To top it all off, he thinks you don’t even realize it. You exude an innocence that contradicts your seductive appearance. Fuck, you were perfect.

Throughout the tattoo Nam-Gyu thinks he falls harder. You ask him about himself, maybe you were just being cordial and trying to pass the time but with each answer he gives you follow it up with an happy answer and a follow up question. You inquire about his job and when you find out he’s a club promoter you ask where. When you find out he works at Club Pentagon you gasp, “No way! That’s dope as hell! Thanos actually was telling me all about that club, raving about it. So me and my friends went the other week.” You stop tattooing a second to turn back to the tray you had and pick up more ink, “I can’t believe I didn’t see you!” You finish, turning back to him with the cutest pout he’s ever seen.

“When did you go?” He inquires, a smile on his face as he sees your pout turn into a grin. “It was a Thursday, I know, not the best day to go to the club.” You say, already defending yourself playfully. “Well ya’ gotta come on the weekends, hell even Monday’s. ‘S when I work.” Nam-gyu says, it takes so much to work himself up to say it- would it be too forward? Would you think he was weird?

“Well now I’ll only ever go on weekends and Mondays if it means I get to see you.” You muse, immediately going back to tattooing, he can hardly register your words. You were flirting, right?? “Yeah? I can put you on the list, get you VIP.” He hums, eyes trained in the ceiling, trying to slow his heartbeat down because he knows you can feel it. “Oh really?? Would it get us a private room, too?”

You were definitely flirting.

He draws in a sharp breath, one of many since he’s met you, hoping it comes off as just him breathing through a tough spot in the tattoo. “Y-yeah I can arrange that.” He looks down for once, looking at you as you tattoo. You were so focused, your nose scrunching every so often, your tongue poking out in concentration giving him a nice view of the silver tongue ring you had on your pretty pink tongue. God, his cock was so hard.

He tries to think of anything else to get his mind off the lewd things he was thinking. He wasn’t a saint by any means, he would even call himself sleazy. But you weren’t like the other women he’s gotten with, you are so professional and dedicated to your work- probably just flirting to get an extra tip, being friendly- and here he was thinking about bending you over and fucking you dumb.

He has no idea you’re thinking the same thoughts. How could you not?! He was oh so attractive and your hands are moving along his toned pecks. You can see the other tattoos that stain his skin, only adding to his appeal. You also weren’t oblivious- you could see the way his hands are clasped over his crotch, trying to hide the erection that’s definitely in his pants.

As you work you’re squeezing your thighs together, trying to get all the sinful images you have playing in your mind to stop so you can do what you need to- tattoo him. But there’s something about the way that, now, your art is on him. The design that you made is permanently etched into his skin like a brand. The thought makes you dizzy.

It’s a large tattoo, so it takes a long while, the whole time the tension keeps thickening between you two. The more you work, the further into his chest it is, the further you have to lean over him. You’re practically on top of him, thumb damn near brushing over his nipple as you work on a particular line. He can feel your breath fanning his skin as you lean even closer to make sure your work is perfect. He can smell your perfume and shampoo, every sense he has is overwhelmed by you.

The hours pass and you two talk and talk, learning little things about each other, laughing at jokes that fly between sentences. It’s like you have known each other forever. He learns that you’ve been tattooing for years, starting in the underground tattooing world- even apprenticing under one of the guys who did his old tattoos. Small world!

Finally, he hears your voice chirp excitedly, “And you’re all done!” You’re pulling away and setting your tattoo gun down. You come back with a cool wet paper towel, wiping the excess ink off his chest. He doesn’t miss the way your hand moves extra slow, like it’s lingering against him. “Stand up n check it out!” You say, he is obsessed with the way your hands nearly shake with how ecstatic you seem to be, wanting him to see the work you did. “Alright, alright!” He chuckles, slowly sitting up, “Gotta give me a second, I’ve been sitting in the same position for hours.” He says, getting up and making a show of groaning as he gets up.

“Awh! So now you’re complainin’?” You tease, “you sat so well the whole time, were being sooo good f’me and now you’re complaining.”

He doesn’t miss the way you have a slight purr to your voice or the way your eyes linger on his bare back from the mirror. Did you just want him to bend you over and fuck you stupid in the studio?! (The answer was absolutely).

He laughs off the way that simple sentence makes him flustered and he shakes his head, “Not complain’, sweetheart. Just being honest.” He says, throwing his own little bit of flirting in the ring. The pet name makes your throat go dry, it rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it seems like he thinks nothing of it. You wave him off and turn around to take your gloves off, hiding your bashful expression. When you gather yourself you stand up and meet him at the mirror.

“Sooo what do ya think?!” You say in a sing song voice as you rock on your heels. He admires your work in the mirror- your work was fucking incredible. The lines were crisp, the black was opaque, and the subtle shading you added around the expanse of the tattoo made it so much better. “Holy fuck this is so awesome…” he laughs out in disbelief, all attempt at sounding suave and flirty out the window as he sees it finished for the first time. He’s eve leaning closer to the mirror to look at it in awe.

Your smile widens exponentially when you see how happy he was with your work, you’re even clapping softly. “Yay! I’m so glad you like it, it was genuinely so fun to do.” You say, catching his eyes in the mirror from where you stand behind him. “It looks really good with your other tattoos too!” You point out. He nods in agreement and turns back to you. “I guess I gotta just keep coming here…I don’t think anyone could compare to your work.”

You can’t help the blush that rises to your face, the praise from him boosting your confidence. You make a show of doing courtesy, giggling as you do it. “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.”

He laughs turning back around to face you fully, you’re a couple feet apart. He’s so much taller than you, you nearly have to crane your neck upwards to look at him. You two stand there with goofy smiles on your faces, each standing idle in the thick cloud of sexual tension that hangs around the two of you.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“Can I have your number?”

You both speak at the same time, words fumbling from lips in a hasty nervous attempt at trying to meet up again- to do anything to ease the ache that is in both of your lower stomachs. Your laughter echos Nam-gyu’s as the overlapping sentences break the silence. You’re both nodding in response to the others question.

“Yeah, we can go on a date.” He says as he smiles down at you, your eyes cant stop drifting down to stare at his bare chest. “Then…yes you can have my number.” You answer, still giggling. You catch his eyes falling to your chest, eyes tracing over your tattoos and then settling on your cleavage.

You take a slow step towards him, he follows, his hand reaching out to hook a finger around one loops of your jeans and pulls you all the way into him. Your hands find purchase on his chest, careful not to touch the raw skin where you just tattooed. With how he pulled you into him, you can feel his erection press into your lower stomach. “You were hard the entire tattoo, huh?” You ask bluntly, smirking up at him.

Nam-gyu falters a bit, covering it up with a laugh, “A pretty girl like you touching on my chest for hours…c-can’t really help it.” He says a bit bashfully. You bite your lip, finger tracing shapes on his stomach, watching as he tenses up under your touch. “We could do something to help that…” you mutter, your voice low as you bat your eyelashes up at him.

He can’t take it anymore, he brings his hands up to hold either side of your neck and jaw, leaning down to connect his lips with yours. It’s raw and primal. Hours of built up sexual tension pouring out as your lips move together. You giggle a bit when you hear him let out a soft whine into the kiss when he feels your pierced tongue run along his bottom lip. He regains his composure and greedily sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s hypnotizing truly, your kind going blank as your mouth is filled with the taste of him.

Nam-gyu pulls away, connected to you my a string of spit. You’re panting, trying to catch your breath. It’s not easy when he’s tilting your head up and running his nose down your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume that has been overwhelming him this whole time. Your hands reach to his hair, pulling the long black locks as you sigh out blissfully. He leaves open mouthed kisses along your skin, teeth biting into your skin every so often. “Had me so fucking hard the entire time…” he mumbles against your skin, pulling back to lock eyes with you once more.

You bite your lip, fingers tightening their grip in his hair and tugging. A low rumble, resembling a growl escapes his lips as he grinds his painfully hard cock against your lower stomach, like he’s trying to further prove his words. “Bet you were thinkin’ of all the dirty things you wanted to do to me, huh?” You tease, tilting your head mockingly. He huffs, obviously not too enthralled by your mocking, he can’t deny the way it makes his dick jump in his boxers, though.

He pulls you back into him, lips crashing on yours. This time it’s much more frantic, it’s fast paced and full of spit and teeth. It’s messy, filthy even. As his lips wor against yours, his hands are dripping from your jaw to your hips. He’s wasting no time, his hands moving to hastily unbutton your jeans and pull down the zipper. You’re helplessly whining into his mouth, greedily sucking his tongue into your mouth as he’s guiding you backwards.

Your back hits the leather fabric of the seat you were just tattooing him in. His fingers grip at the loops of your pants pulling them down your thighs. He’s groaning into your mouth when he feels his fingers brush against the soft expanse of your thighs. He has to be dreaming.

His large hands work your jeans down to your knees. He’s pulling back from the kiss, spit still connecting your lips together. He grabs at your hips, mumbling a breathless “jump” before he’s helping you up to sit on the chair.

When you’re sat all pretty up on your bench he’s slotting himself between your legs and reconnecting his lips with yours with a desperation that makes your mind spin. He kisses you like you’re a hit of the strongest, rarest drug he’s tried. One taste and he’s addicted to you.

He clumsily pulls your jeans off your legs entirely. Fumbling even more to pull them over your shoes. You’re giggling into the kiss at his eagerness, his hands throwing your jeans to the floor of the studio and reattaching themselves to your bare thighs, grasping at the doughy flesh and moaning into your mouth as he does.

“G-god fuck-“ Nam-Gyu begins to mumble against your lips, “so. Fuckin’. pretty.” He hisses out between kisses. He thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world, there’s no fucking way he’s got you writhing against him, biting on his lips like some fucking she-devil. Your hips roll against his torso, ass grinding against the leather seat under you.

In a breathless motion, he’s pulling away and dipping his head to your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along your pulse point. There’s no true technique to it, it’s like he’s trying to just taste you. And he is. Maybe you’re wearing some pheromone perfume or something, he doesn’t know, but every time he runs his tongue along your skin, your taste flooding his taste buds, his cock is twitching in his pants- wet spot most certainly forming in his underwear.

He pulls away for a moment to simply admire you, trying to imprint the image of you into his mind just in case this is the only time he gets a chance like this. Your thighs are splayed out so nicely, the plush skin widening with how you’re sat. The slit of your sweet cunt practically hidden by your thighs, giving him the most delicious preview of what’s to come. And what is that…no fucking way….oh he’s already planning his next tattoo appointment just to make sure he sees you.

Nipple rings.

He could see the hardened outline of your nipples and the bars that went through them. Jesus Christ, you were going to actually send him to an early grave. He’s back on you, mouth back on your neck and hands coming to cup your tits over your shirt, thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt, massaging your nipples with feather light touches that have you jumping in his hold. Your arms find purchase on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and gripping at the hair at the back of his neck, pulling his head further into you.

“N-nam-gyu…” his name falls from your lips in a nearly silent whine when his teeth dig a little too hard into your skin, the sharp bite of his teeth sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. He pulls away from your neck, trailing his tongue down to the sweep of your breasts, “say it again.” He mumbles tersely against your skin, lips tickling you. “Say my name like that again.” His thumb and pointer finger pinching the hard peaks and pulling the slightest bit, the black fabric of your tank top stretching with the pull.

“F-fuck! Nam-gyu, p-please.” You’re ashamed you’re already pleading with him, but the throbbing in your cunt has become almost unbearable at this point. You can feel the grin that twists against his lips as he releases your skin from his mouth. He pulls back to admire his work, his thumb moving up from your nipple to brush over the red and purple marks that begin to blossom across the top of your breasts.

“Mhm…that’s it…” he hums, nodding his head slowly, his eyes never leaving your chest, the image of your skin littered with marks made by him had his cock throbbing. So fucking pretty, he thinks. His eyes flicker up to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks, your kiss swollen lips, the way your skin is stained with the imprints of his teeth and red splotches that span over the tattoos that are inked into your flesh. It’s like some macabre renaissance painting.

He can’t wait any longer. He’s dropping to his knees and pulling you by the hips towards the edge of the chair. Your skin squeaks against the leather and you squeak out, almost afraid you’ll fall. Your hands grip the edge of the seat, your eyes are wide as you look down at him. “‘M not gonna let you fall, I got’cha princess.” He breathes out as he throws your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open finally.

You watch as he stares at your cunt, his pupils as big as saucers as he takes in your pussy. “O-oh my fucking god…” he laughs out in disbelief, not only do you have the prettiest cunt he thinks he’s ever seen, the hood of your clit is pierced. He’s spreading your lips apart to get a better look, thumbs massaging the sides of your pussy as he takes in the perfect sight before him. He looks back up to you, his face nearly as red as yours, “where the fuck have you been all this time.” He’s chuckling and looking back down to your dripping pussy.

He rests his head on your thigh, his thumb starting to trace feather light circles on your clit, thumb running over the little piercing. You jump into his touch, breath catching in your throat. “B-been here the whole time..” you whine out, hips trying to shift to meet his mouth but he’s too far away, “…t-tattooing T-thanos- ahh!” Your words are abruptly cut off by Nam-gyu delving into your pussy.

He doesn’t start slow or work you up, no, he did it to shut you up. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, hard, tongue rolling over your throbbing clit in figure eights. You cry out, hand flying to his hair and fisting it into your hands. It’s so much at once, but it’s so good.

“Don’t fuckin’ say his name when I got my face near your cunt..” he growls, lips dancing along your puffy folds as he speaks. He licks a flat stripe up the entirety of your pussy, drenching his tastebuds in your saccharine taste. “Only wanna hear my name.” His words are once again punctuated by his tongue flicking deviously against the silver jewelry adorning your clit. Your hips are pathetically rutting down onto his mouth, urging him to give you more.

But he’s fired up now. Years of being Thanos’ shadow, having to watch as the purple haired rapper got all the girls and left him for nothing. This was his time. His chance. He was the one getting to fuck you, not Thanos. “I’m the one who got you spread out like a whore in your lil’ tattoo studio, right?” Nam-Gyu hisses out, eyes catching yours as he waits for you to answer. You’re sucking in a shaky breath, hand tightening its grip in his hair, nodding.

His change in tone makes your cunt flutter around nothing. “Mhm…y-yeah, jus’ you.” You slur out, hips rolling to try and meet his mouth, every time he backs away so he’d be just out of reach. The corners of his lips curl up when he hears how your voice is higher, words wavering and breath heaving. He’s the one doing this to you. It feels surreal to him. He accepts your answer it seems because he’s diving back in.

His tongue is working messily along your folds. Mapping out every crevice and corner, his dark eyes never leaving your face. Nam-Gyu is watching intently, taking in every reaction you give him. Every twitch of your brow, every time you bite your lip, the way your chest heaves and stomach clenches, he’s spinning. He’s on his knees devouring your cunt, worshipping you like a goddess. He’s not shy about his noises, he’s slurping and lapping up every drop of arousal that pours out your clenching pussy.

“Taste shoo fuckin’ good.” Nam-gyu’s words are slurred by your puffy folds, tongue mapping out every inch of your throbbing pussy. He makes a whole show of dropping his jaw wide open so you can see the slick that drops down his pink tongue and coats his face. He’s so messy, paying no mind to how wet his face has become, how your thighs are painted in your own arousal. Your chest is heaving, your nails are hitting into the leather on the edge of the tattoo seat.

“So fuckin’ pretty too, y’know that?” He hums, his dark eyes trained on your cunt as he pulls back just slightly to take in the beautiful sight before him, “such a pretty fuckin’ cunt.” When he finishes his sentence you have no time to utter a response because he’s diving nose deep into your cunt, tongue circling your sopping entrance as the bridge of his nose rubs so deliciously against your clit.

“N-nam-gyu!” His name falling from your lips is a sound that makes his ears ring and his head fill with static. It’s such a high pitched creaky, pleading whine that’s so different from your voice it shocks him in the best way. One of his hands removes itself from your hip to fumble with the button and zipper of his jeans. His cock is so painfully hard he had to free it from his boxers. When his hefty cock springs free as he pulls his jeans and underwear down just enough, he’s growling into your pussy.

His tongue flattens and he licks a fat drag up the entirety of your cunt, slurping down your thick arousal greedily. “‘M I making you feel good?” He murmurs, eyes watching your every reaction even though your head is tipped back in ecstasy. You nod frantically, eyes screwed shut as he licks up and down, up and down in slow, deliberate drags. “Tell me. Wanna hear it.”

When you open your mouth to speak moans cascade from your lips, it takes a moment for you to even think straight enough to form a coherent thought. One of your hands flies to his hair, pulling the strands back out of his face and fisting the soft strands into your fists. Your head falls back forward, a weak gasp catching in your throat when you immediately catch his eyes, “Mhm, s-so fucking g-good. T-tongue feels so good!”

You can feel the way his lips widen into a smile, satisfied with your words. He nods a bit, his head shaking in your pussy, he’s practically glued. The taste of your cunt is something that not even the best high could compare to. His hands run up your hips and torso, grabbing at the top of your tank top and pulling it down. Your breasts spill out of the fabric giving him the angelic view of your bare tits. Tattoos line your chest, almost like arrows that guide his eyes directly to your pert nipples accessorized so prettily with barbells that have little hearts on either side- framing your nipples so perfectly.

His eyes are fluttering and rolling back at the sight, moaning into the depths of your cunt as he slurps up every possible ounce of your arousal. He can’t help it, he has to remove one of his hands off of your body to reach down to jerk his cock. You writhe and choke out a moan at the sight, his wrist twists around his thick length, smearing the pre-cum that bubbles out of his red tip, smearing it along his throbbing cock. Your hips grind down even harder into his face, his nose grinding so perfectly against your clit as his tongue licks greedily at your insides.

Babbles of his name are lost between wanton moans and pleas for him to continue. Every time he pulls his mouth back the slightest bit you get the most perfect view of his face, absolutely drenched in a milky-white sheen of you. It drips down his adam’s apple tantalizingly, wetting his neck- and he doesn’t care, if he does it only makes him more excited because he’s diving right back in, nose deep to fuck his tongue back into your twitching cunt.

“Ohmygod!” The babbled cry is ripped from your lungs, your hand gripping at his hair harder- nails biting into his scalp. His tongue pulls out of your entrance to lick a fat stripe back up to the hood of your clit, dancing around that pretty little piercing you have, “I’m- fuck! ‘M gonna cum!” You sob out, eyebrows upturning.

As much as Nam-Gyu wants to taste your cum pour down his throat- that would have to wait. He’s so painfully hard, he wants, no, needs to feel you cum on his cock. He’s pulling away, nearly cumming when he hears your whine, so desperate and needy, begging to cum. He stands back up, leaning forward and gripping your face, capturing you in a kiss.

It’s so messy. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue. The wetness that was left along his face is smeared across your skin. You’re moaning into his mouth at your own taste, your hands reaching to wrap around each of his wrists as you lean further into him. His taste, although mixed with yours, was something you know you’d forever be addicted to now.

Nam-gyu pulls away breathless, “‘m sorry pretty, I really need to feel you cum on my cock.” He apologizes against your lips, “I’ll make you cum, I promise…” as he speaks, one of his hands snakes down to tap at your clit. He laughs against your pillowy lips when your whole body jolts with each wet tap of his finger pad against your clit.

You nod, hips rolling against his hand, “P-please… Nam-Gyu I-I need to cum. ” You pant out. And how could Nam-Gyu say no to you. He grabs at your hips and pulls you off the bench. Your knees are weak nearly giving out but his grip on you keeps you up right. He’s spinning you around and pushing at your lower back- bending you over the tattoo bench you were just sat on. You whine when you feel your own wetness as you’re laid over the leather, now dirtying your stomach.

Nam-gyu’s hands run up and down your back, pushing up your tank top so he can see the tattoos that are inked on your back. His thick cock is slotted between the valley of your ass, rocking back and forth. You’re shivering, hips shaking left and right to try and urge him to put it in. “Be patient…” he hums, “lemme admire you.”

His hands dance along your skin, taking in all of you, feeling you under his palms. When his hands land on your waist he lets out a low growl. His hands are so large, engulfing your waist. It’s such a sinful sight, if he had an image of it he’d put it as the lockscreen of his phone. He wants to tease you more, draw this out longer, but the throbbing in his cock is painful at this point. He has to be inside you.

Nam-gyu shifts backwards, gripping the base of his dick and swiping it up and down your sopping cunt. Moans echo through the studio as you feel his fat cock head drag through your folds, catching your clit with each slow drag. When he feels the softness of your pussy along his tip he is also moaning, the hand still on you grabbing tighter at the fat of your hips.

When he’s coated his cock in your arousal he lines up with your entrance. When he makes the first push into your tight heat, both of you are letting out blissful sighs. He’s hardly in and you just know he’s going to fill you so well. Ever so slowly, he pushes in deeper. When his fat cock head is fully inside you, your cunt lets out a sickening wet ‘pop’. The high pitched, creaky moan of his name that you let out makes something particularly superior bloom deep inside him.

“Oh fuuckk…” it’s a long drawn out growl, his hands gripping the globes of your ass, the grip only tightening the further he sinks into your tight cunt. It’s so slow it’s nearly killing you, inch after agonizing inch his cock is stretching your pussy impossibly wide over his thick girth. You can feel the engorged, throbbing veins run along your walls, only serving to make the whole thing feel so much better. “P-please put it in! A-all the way.” You cry out, looking back over your shoulder at him. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and his eyebrows are knitted together as he traces every tattoo that litters your back to memorize them. Especially that little tramp stamp you had…that was real cute.

“E-easy…” he hisses out, “You’re so t-tight, sweets. Ya gotta relax if ya want me to go faster.”

His hand reaches around to splay itself across your pubic bone, his deft fingers running along the edges of your cunt where you’re split on his dick to collect your arousal. Traveling back upwards, his fingers meet your clit to rub slow circles into the throbbing bud. You must have loosened up because he’s groaning and sinking in deeper, “Fuucckk yeah, there we go, stretching so pretty around me.”

His words have you moaning, your head falling forward, forehead resting on the leather of the chair. With one final push he’s sinking balls deep inside you. A whine is ripped from your lips, your back arches pushing your hips even further back against him. He’s keeling over you, hunching over and letting out a shuddering breath when he feels the whole length of his cock wrapped in the gooey warmth that was your cunt.

You’re already gushing around him, the force of his cock stretching you out forced a cascade of your arousal down his balls. “Fucking h-hell, so tight. Can feel you clenchin’ around me.” Nam-gyu huffs, his fingers still working on your clit, making your hips roll against him, trying to get him to move. He can’t move right now though, he just knows the second he moves he is going to blow his load deep in your cunt. He tilts his head up and a smirk spreads on his face, a perfect distraction was in front of him.

He leans over you, once of his hands running up your spine, tracing a line of your tattoo, crawling up your neck and grabbing a fistful of your hair. He pulls your head off the bench and you’re met face to face with your own reflection. The same mirror that he used to check his tattoo was now continently placed right in front of you. Your face was flushed, kiss swollen lips hanging agape as you pant. “Look at youuu…” Nam-gyu coos, using his grip on your hair to wiggle your head around to further mock your state.

You look so fucked out, it’s embarrassing, your eyes screw shut trying to hide away from the sight. “Not gonna move until you open your eyes.” The sentence is uttered through clenched teeth, coming out in a hiss. You don’t obey, your eyes are still shut. Your hips try to circle back against him but a desperate cry is ripped from your lungs as he draws his cock back, pulling nearly all the way out until just his heavy tip rests in the tight ring of your cunt.

“I know you can hear me, c’mon.” Nam-Gyu growls, jerking your head back and forth once more by your hair to really get your attention. Weakly, your eyes pry themselves open to look at your reflection in the mirror. You look up and you see his smile widening his black hair falling forward in front of his face like some scandalous curtain. When he knows you’re going to keep your eyes open, his hips are surging forward. When he sinks his cock into you again, a loud ‘squelch’ comes from your pussy, echoing throughout the tattoo studio.

“Good girl, y-you’re so pretty, ya gotta look…can’t waste a view like this.” He praises, his words shuttering every so often when he feels your cunt pulsate around him. It’s an addicting feeling, so tight, so warm. A soft, drawn out whine comes from your throat as you feel his thick length sink so deep into you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His fingers are still dancing along your clit, sending wave after wave of exhilarating pleasure throughout your body.

“God you feel so good, so fucking wet…” Nam-gyu huffs out, beginning to piston his hips into your ass, drawing in and out of your sopping heat in dizzying strokes. “Making such a- fucking hell- a fucking mess on my dick.” You watch the way his eyes are focused downwards, where you two are connected. Watching as the frothy white ring that forms around the base of his cock grows with each devious plap, plap, plap of his hips.

“S-so fucking big, sooo deeep.” You whine, your words slurred and drawn out, bouncing in time with each forward drive of his hips. His ego swells even bigger, your fucked out tone and babbled speech just makes him speed his thrusts up, a rumble reverberating in his chest when he sees the plush fat of your ass recoil and jiggle against his pelvis.

He releases his grip on your hair, your head falling forward, cheek resting on the leather of the chair, moth lolling open in silent gasps. His hands grip at the soft flesh of your ass, nails biting into the flesh as he rocks your ass back harder against him, slamming you back onto his cock so anytime he drives balls deep into your gushing cunt, the fat tip of his dick is pressing against your cervix in a way that’s making you delirious. “Yeah? Feels good? Tell me how good it feels.”

You’re drooling at this point, hands gripping helpless at the fabric of the bench. “Mhmm!!! So fucking good!” You cry out, “o-oh my god, so, so good!” One of your hands reaches backwards, gripping at the wrist of one of his arms desperately. “Thaaattss it…” he murmurs, his chest heaving, hips never letting up.

“Fuck yourself back against me, lemme see it.” You waste no time in following his orders, rocking your hips back to meet his thrusts. He expects you to go slow and work up to a faster speed…but no- you’re slamming your hips back against him with a violence that rivals his thrusts. You need to cum.

Nam-gyu thinks he’s in heaven, every time your ass meets his thighs he’s diving impossibly deep into you, stuffing you oh-so-full and stretching you incredibly wide. Anytime you pull away, you can feel the wetness that dirties his thighs and your ass string you two together in some macabre, pornographic connection.

It’s raw and carnal, Nam-gyu’s head tips back in pure bliss as your cunt greedily sucks him in. With each wet slap of your ass against his pelvis you’re driven further and further to your climax. Every time your hips piston backwards his fat cock is bulling itself against your g-spot. “R-right there!!” You cry out desperately, you need to cum.

“Yeah? Right there? That’s the spot?” Nam-Gyu huffs out, his hands digging even harder into the flesh of your ass, hips pile driving into you meeting every one of your backwards thrusts. He angles himself upwards the slightest bit, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you like a target. Your head shakes up and down in a frantic ‘yes’, babbled praises falling from your lips trying to spur him on.

He drives his hips meticulously into that spot over and over. It’s raw and carnal, each thrust is harder than the last and has you moaning out for him like the prettiest song. The tattoos etched into your lower back and hips ripple and stretch each time your ass recoils against him. “Fuck, look at you…” He coos, one of his hands releasing your hip to run back down to your cunt. His fingers run along your puffy folds, feeling the way you’re stretched so wide around him. “Taking it so well, just like I knew you would.”

Nam-gyu’s words go straight to your cunt, you knew he was hard while you were tattooing him but the verbal confirmation that he was thinking about fucking you that whole time just confirms it in the best way. “O-oh fuck, i-i think I’m g-gonna-“ your words are creaky and so broken up by moans, you can’t even finish what you wanted to say because it just feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, yes.” Nam-Gyu growls, his fingers moving up to your swollen clit and dancing along the pulsating bud in mind blowing circles. His tone is one that resonates deep within your mind, igniting every one of your nerves on fire. It was like those words were the ones he’s been dying to hear this whole night. “C’mon pretty girl, I need to f-feel…fuck! I need to feel you make a mess on my dick.”

Your eyes screw shut and you’re helplessly fucking yourself back on his cock, meeting each one of his mean thrusts to drive his cock so deep inside you. His fingers work deft circles on your clit, making even more of a mess of your pussy. You can feel of sloppy you’ve become, your arousal has dropped down your thighs and started to coat the tile below the two of you.

His thrusts are mean and deliberate, speeding up and driving into that sweet spot over and over her needs to feel you cum around him. Moan after moan falls from your lips, each one becoming more higher pitched than the last. You’re clenching around him tighter, spasming in a rhythm that nearly traps him inside your cunt. “F-fuck!! ‘m cumming! Ohmygodohmygod Nam-gyu!” It’s a babbled mess of his name and gasps of pleasure, your back arching even more, your hips shuddering in sloppy thrusts backwards until they stop completely.

Your orgasm makes your vision blurry, your ears ring, and your mind fill with static. When you cum, you cum so hard. Harder than you think you ever have. You’re gushing around him, sobbing out as your body shakes against him. Nam-gyu’s head is tipped back, eyes rolled so far back into his head that he swears he could see his skull. The vice like grip you had on his cock is hurling him towards his own end.

“F-fuck!” Nam-gyu nearly yells out, hips and fingers working you through your orgasm in sloppy movements. “W-where do you want it? F-fuck ya gotta tell me, ‘m so close.”

You can hardly make the words out to respond, but you need it badly, so after inhaling a large, heaving breath and answering him. “I-inside, w-want to feel it..hah!..p-please!” The words are slurred and damn near incoherent- but he hears them perfectly.

With a few more rough thrusts, he’s driving his hips flush with your ass, pushing his cock balls deep into you and cumming deep in your tight heat. You can feel every thick rope filling you up, prolonging your orgasm to the point where you can hardly breathe. His hips rock shallowly into you, making sure every last drop of his cum is pulled from his cock and painting your walls.

You both still, sweaty and breathless, bodies feeling like jelly. “Y-you came so much…” you whine, hips rolling against his mindlessly. Nam-gyu hisses, over sensitive, hand pulling away from your clit so he can hold both of your hips, stilling you. “Mhm…” he hums out, catching his breath, “couldn’t help it, pussy felt too fucking good.”

You smile dumbly, letting out a weak giggle and slumping against the leather bench. With every giggle you let out, your pussy clenches around him like a vice. Nam-Gyu slowly pulls out, his whole body shivering as he slides out of your cunt. He keeps his hands on your ass, spreading you open so he can watch as his cum seeps out of you in thigh globs that drop to the floor and mix with the mess you’ve already made.

His thumb glides over your pussy, smearing the mess as he admires it. “Now that’s a fuckin’ sight..” he hums out, chuckling slightly as you shake anytime his thumb runs over your overstimulated clit. Nam-gyu slides his hands back up your body as he leans down, placing a line of kisses across the back of your shoulder.

You smile when you feel the comforting weight of him over you, trapping you against the chair. You turn your face to try and look back at him, a blissed out smile on your lips. He meets you halfway, booking his face over your shoulder to capture your lips in a slow kiss. It’s languid and full of tongue. You can still taste yourself on his tongue.

“Aren’t we supposed to fuck after the first date?” You mutter against his lips, giggling softly. “Mmm…yeah I guess…but seems like we do things differently.” Nam-gyu says as he pulls away from the kiss, one of his hands is brushing hair out of your face. The next moment he’s holding his phone in your face open to a new contact screen. “Gotta give me your number so we can plan that date.” He says laughing, placing a kiss on your temple.

You can help but laugh, taking his phone and beginning to type in your contact information. Even adding a cute selfie of your fucked out face with makeup smeared and all to the contact as the photo- after your date and the many dates to come he could change it when he had more photos of you (or not).

You didn’t plan to get fucked stupid on your tattoo chair but you weren’t complaining at all, you were so glad he had made an appointment.

I hope you guys liked this one, it was on the back burner for a long while and I really wanted to finish it! I promise I’m still working hard at requests 🙏🙏 thank you all for your support!! Let me know what ya think of this one!! love yew guys!! - <3 kiwi

#nam gyu x reader smut #nam gyu smut #namgyu x reader #player124 x reader smut #player 124 x reader smut #player 124 x y/n #namgyu x y/n smut #namgyu smut #nam gyu squid game #namgyu fanfic #nam gyu x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game fanfiction #x reader squid games #nam gyu x reader smut fic #player 124 x reader #namgyu x reader smut fic #namgyu x reader smut #namgyu x y/n

109 notes · View notes