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jobean12-blog · 4 months

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Twisted Games

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 2.816

Summary: You never win when you play games with Joel but while losing in a game of Twister you get an idea that might just make you a winner...or not.

Author's Note: I just love the idea of all the tension and teasing but honestly...I'd never last haha. Thank you all so much for reading! Muhch love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: flirting, teasing, fun, tension, fluff, spiciness, established relationship.

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

You’re practically in a bow pose with two feet spread out on different colors and one hand behind you on another. Your back is arched and your chest is right in Joel’s face. He’s smiling over you and licking his lips.

“I love this game,” he chuckles deviously. “Next time we play naked.”

You roll your eyes and spin the Twister wheel with your one free hand.

“Shit,” you mutter when you see what it lands on. “Ok! I can do this!”

When you start to move your body your position becomes even more precarious and now you’re pressed closer to him. His lips touch your collarbone in a soft kiss.

“Don’t! That’s so unfair!” you whine.

“Aw come on darlin.’ I can’t resist!”

You sigh and refocus but to no avail. The moment you reach your hand to the next colored circle your body collapses to the mat. He’s instantly on you, pinning you to the Twister mat and grinning down at you.

“UGH! I’m never playing anything with you again!”

“Aw come on darlin.’ Don’t be a sore loser now.”

You try to get your arms under his chest so you can push him off you but it’s hard to move.

“Get off me!”

He kisses you instead.

“Don’t be mad,” he coos against your lips. “It’s just a game.”

You manage to wiggle your arms free in his distracted state and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Joel…”

“Hmm?” he hums while trailing his lips along your jaw.

He stops just below your ear and kisses your skin softly before nipping your earlobe.

“You want me to start letting you win?” he whispers.

“No!” you huff and it quickly dissolves into sigh as he continues to place kisses down your neck.

His free hand pushes at your knee and he spreads your legs wide, settling between them and rocking his hips.

“See, this is why Twister is my favorite game…” he murmurs as the same hand sneaks down your stomach.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, letting your legs fall open even wider. “It’s all a win for you!”

“Damn right it is,” he says, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings.

You drag your hands down his back and crane your neck to give his lips better access.

Suddenly you go still and your lips spread into a mischievous grin.

“What?” he grumbles, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I know a game I can win at….”

He raises a challenging brow.

You narrow your eyes and try to bump him off you.

“Nuh uh darlin.’ Start talkin’.”

“Fine, but don’t you start distracting me,” you warn.

His fingertips trace the outline of your panties but nothing more as he looks at you expectantly.

“Ok. So. I bet I can hold out longer for sex.”

“What?” he asks again, stopping his movement. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t but...I know I can beat you at least.”

He’s silent for a few seconds and your eyes wander over his face, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the outline of his beard and the gray patches throughout. You can still feel the warmth of his hand between your legs and the hardness between his and you start to second guess your idea.

“Fine,” he says. “But how long are we doing this for?”

You open your mouth but he quickly cuts you off.

“Any more than three days is a hard NO.”

Your lips lift into a sideways smirk. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” you say and pop the p. “Three days it is! Since that seems to be your limit,” you snicker.

His fingers begin to move again, teasingly inching downward.

“Are we starting today?” he asks.

He brushes a finger along the damp fabric and gives you a wink.

“No,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.

“That’s good,” he croons as he pushes the fabric to the side.

The morning sun rises and warms the bedroom, bathing it in a soft golden light as you begin to awaken.

Joel’s strong arm is draped over your waist and his bare chest is pressed to your back.

“Mornin’ darlin’ he mumbles, tugging you closer.

“Hi,” you whisper and snuggle into him.

He hitches a leg over your thigh and you feel him pulse against you. He starts to kiss your neck as his hand splays at your stomach and pushes your shirt up.

You drag your teeth over your bottom lip, both to stifle your low moan of pleasure and your near victory cheer.

With a wiggle you silently ask for more but suddenly he tenses behind you.

“FUCK,” he groans and rolls away from you.

“HEY!” you pout, sitting up and staring at him.

“Don’t hey me!” he says, running a hand through his already mussed mess of dark curls. “I’m going to take a cold shower.”

You watch him walk off to the bathroom and fall back with a thump onto your pillow.

“SO CLOSE!” you whisper shout to yourself.

When he’s ready to leave for work, he sets his coffee in the sink and wraps you in his arms, drawing out a sweet kiss that turns much more heated once he cages you against the counter and his hands start to wander.

“Joel,” you whine, chasing his lips when he pulls away.

“See you later darlin’,” he purrs with a wink.

You leave for work shortly after, clearly distracted and frustrated.

“What’s up your ass today?” Tommy asks Joel as they load materials into the back of the pick-up truck.

Joel just glares in his brother’s direction.

“Fine,” Tommy says with a lopsided smile. “Don’t share.”

By the time you get home from work your mood has soured and you’re not even sure why you proposed the idea. You’re horny and frustrated and you want to blame Joel.

“Hi darlin’,” he says when he walks in an hour later. “How was your day?”

You shrug and mumble, “uneventful. You?”

“Other than Tommy being a usual pain in my ass, the same,” he answers and sits down next to you.

He rests his hand on your knee and starts to rub small circles with his thumb, his other hand snaking around your neck to pull you closer for a kiss.

You crawl into his lap and straddle his waist, melting into the kiss and dragging your hands down his chest.

His fingers dance along your thighs and he sighs out your name when you start to press your lips to his neck.

“I hate this game,” he whispers.

You want to agree but your competitive side wins out in the moment and you lean back and give him a smug smile.

“We’re almost through day one!” you sing.

“And I haven’t lost yet!” he shoots back.

“Forty-eight more hours to go…” you taunt.

He stops your wiggling, keeping you still on his lap.

“I’m starving,” he grumbles and gently lifts you off him. “Let’s have dinner.”

You let out an exasperated sigh and huff.

“This is your fault,” he says as he opens the fridge. “You can just give up now and I’ll have you screamin’ my name in no time.”

He looks over at you with dark eyes filled with promise.

“Let just make dinner,” you mutter and peel yourself off the couch.

The next morning starts in much the same way except this time it’s you that tears yourself away first and stomps to the bathroom.

Joel follows right behind and opens the shower curtain, stepping under the hot water with you.

“What are you doing?” you squeak.

“Taking a shower. I usually get in first…”

He smiles as the water runs down his skin. Your eyes follow the rivulets, watching them closely as they meander over the dips and curves of his muscles.

“You don’t play fair,” you hiss.

“I’m gonna be late,” he counters.

He reaches over you to grab his shampoo.

“Joel…keep that thing away from me.”

He stays close, deliberately bumping into you as much as possible.

“What? The shower isn’t that big. You’re naked. What do you expect?” he says with a nonchalant shrug.

You turn to face him and hold out your body wash. “Do my back?” you ask sweetly.

He purses his lips and glares.

“Sure darlin’” he answers through gritted teeth.

He lathers the wash in his hands and starts to smooth them along your shoulders and back. He traces the curve of your spine and your ass, squeezing and massages as he goes. You lean into him, feeling him hard against your back.

His hands slide around your waist to your stomach and he reaches up to your breasts, kneading them softly as he washes. Then he moves lower and you instinctively arch into his touch and spread your legs.

“Fucking hell,” he growls. “You’re clean enough!”

With that he quickly rinses his hair and rips the shower curtain open, grabbing a towel and grumbling all the way back to the bedroom.

You turn the water cold and let it run over your heated skin, resting your head to the tiles and silently cursing yourself.

“Think Tommy and I are gonna start on the garden bed tomorrow,” Joel says when you come down the steps. “This way you can start planting.”

Your face brightens and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Really?” you ask. “Are you done with the other job?”

“We will be today,” he says and pulls you in for a kiss.

The two of you manage to get through dinner that night and go to sleep cuddling. You let the exhaustion of the day take over and will yourself to sleep.

The sky is still dark with only a sliver of orange glow peeking out over the horizon when you wake to Joel’s incoherent mumbling.

His arm slips around your waist and he tugs you into him and his hands start to roam, softly tracing your curves while his lips find your shoulder.

You hum in pleasure and turn to face him, pressing closer.

He starts to tug at your panties and push your thighs apart.

“Joel?” you whisper, realizing he’s half asleep.

When all he does is sigh your name you take his face in your hands and start to pepper him with kisses.

“Baby, wake up.”

His eyes pop open and he looks at you sleepily.

“Why did you wake me?” he asks. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” you whisper.

“I was having the best dream,” he sighs.

As he starts to wake up more and realize his position he gets grumpier.

“I wasn’t dreaming,” he says more to himself than you. “This fucking sucks!”

He rolls away and rubs his hands over his face.

“Then just give in and lose,” you say quietly.

His eyes find yours and you can see the war of emotions whirling inside them.

“Darlin’…”

With a pained expression he pushes off the bed and goes to shower, locking the door behind him.

“Damn it!” you groan when you hear it click. “So close again!”

You’ve taken the day off to prepare your seedlings and do some last-minute shopping. Tommy shows up with a smile and a hug and whispers, “what’s been his problem this week?”

You steel yourself and give him a shake of your head. “No idea! Why?”

“Well, something crawled up his ass because he’s been grumpier than usual!”

With a laugh you give Tommy a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and turn away so he can’t see your expression of glee. At least you’re extra sure Joel’s suffering too.

You leave the boys to go to the garden store, enjoying strolling around and taking your time. When you return with several new plants you find Joel and Tommy hard at work.

“Hey darlin’” Joel says when you pull up and roll down the window.

He rests the shovel in the soil and puts his hand on his hip, popping his knee out as he exhales.

“Need help carrying anything?”

As he waits for an answer you just stare, sweeping your eyes over him from head to toe.

He’s just sweaty enough. His tan skin glistening in the sunlight and his dark hair sticking to the back of his neck. His tee shirt is clinging to the outline of his broad shoulders and the muscles in his forearms flex and bulge as he adjusts the shovel and starts digging again. His dark jeans are pulled tight over his thick thighs and his hands dwarf the handle of the tool.

Tommy watches the whole exchange with a bemused expression.

“Did you need help?” Joel asks again after he throws a few more shovels full of soil in the planter.

“Huh?” you ask, clearly dazed.

He stabs the shovel into the ground and wipes his hands on his jeans, rounding the car and tapping on the trunk.

You open it but stay in the car and watch him carry your plants to the steps.

“You ok?” Tommy asks as he leans on the window.

“Fine,” you say quietly as you watch Joel bend down. “I’m just hot…and thirsty,” you trail off.

Tommy moves away when you open the door.

“Want something?” you ask him.

“Sure, something cold would be nice.”

You nod and head into the house, skirting Joel who’s rearranging your plants and avoiding any eye contact with either of them.

You pour three glasses of cold lemonade with ice and lift one to your lips, drinking down some of the cool liquid then pressing it to your face to cool your skin.

“Fuck,” you mutter quietly and turn to look out the front window.

Joel’s carrying tools from the truck and every time he lifts something his shirt rides up and exposes the dark trail of hair below his belly button.

You’re so thirsty.

You take another long gulp then set the glass down and lean against the counter. Your lost in your lascivious thoughts and never hear Joel come in. It isn’t until he’s close enough that you can smell his distinct scent that you startle and find his dark gaze on you.

“Tommy said you were gettin’ drinks,” he states and inches closer, slowly and carefully like he’s approaching a feral animal.

“I was,” you breathe out and enjoy a closer look at him.

He stands toe to toe with you and says your name in a questioning tone. You snap out of your pensive state and focus your eyes on his handsome face. He’s studying you with a look that’s intense and at the same time his eyes sparkle.

He removes the glass from your hand and sets it on the counter, taking your palm and kissing it softly.

“Still,” he starts and checks his watch, “nine hours left in the day.”

“Oh,” you say softly, your breath hitching when he turns your hand in his and kisses along your knuckles. “Shouldn’t you get back to work?”

Your words are weak and you’re giving everything away- and he knows it.

“You’re about to lose at your own game darlin’,” he simpers.

His words momentarily clear your head and you press yourself back against the counter, putting a small amount of space between you both.

“Why me?” you ask. “You’re the one who came in house looking for trouble.”

He grabs your waist and before you can protest you’re pressed against every inch of him.

“Trouble?” he whispers along the shell of your ear.

You can feel how hard he is and it makes you shiver with anticipation.

“I’m warnin’ you darlin’.”

“Joel…”

He rubs the pad of calloused thumb across your bottom lip. The need to kiss you is overwhelming, but he somehow manages to hold back and simply brushes his lips over yours then dips his head to run his nose along the column of your neck with a deep inhale.

When he stops his mouth is hovering over your ear. “ Let me be clear darlin.’ Tonight when I finally get between those legs I’m going to fuck you over and over again to make up for the last three days. With my fingers, my tongue…my cock. You’re going to feel me every time you take a step.”

Your breath races in and out of your lungs, every part of you reacting to his promised words. But you’re unwilling to completely relinquish control so you trail your fingers down his stomach, reaching under his shirt to softly graze them through that dark trail of hair and loving how his muscles contract.

“You better.”

The words are whispered and breathy but you manage to get them out before gently pushing on his chest and slipping from his grasp.

His muttered curses are the last thing you hear before you rush up the steps for another cold shower.

@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989 @lizette50

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #established relationship

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vngelicc · 1 year

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⊹₊ ⋆ “she hotter than july in california, tan skin, eyes on it, stretched legs like the roads in malibu,”

TAGS — sleazy baby daddy!jk woop woop, birthday sex, cunnilingus, fingering, messy blow jobs, face fucking, making out, drug use (weed), oc is a cunty mama, this is in the past when they were dating, unprotected sex, creampies, possessive jk + oc, dirty talk to the max, both r high during sex, jk calling his gf “mama”, slight(?) degradation, oc throws it BACK, don’t play w her that’s her man, me thinks they made jiho here by accident, it gets cute at one point LMAO

WORD COUNT — 3.3 k

You leaned against Jungkook with your back pressed close to his chest, throwing your arms up-over your head to wrap around Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook leaned in with a hum, leaving small wet kisses along the nape of your neck. His hands wandered all over your body—your thighs, waist, hips—he managed to snake his hands over your tits and give each mound a gentle squeeze.

The music blared loudly in the background and through the thick clouds of smoke your lips found his cheek as you pressed a sweet kiss, leaving behind a brown glossy lipstick stamp on his once unblemished cheek. Jungkook chuckled quietly under his breath and tugged you closer on his lap, “What is it baby? You leavin’ your mark on me? Want all those other girls to see who I belong to?” He teases softly.

“I don’t need to do all that,” you shrug cutely and turn around in his lap to look him in his eyes, “ ‘s just a reminder for these bitches who wanna act funny.” You gently tap his lip with your finger, “Happy birthday baby.” You say softly after a few moments of eye-fucking him with a coy smile on your face.

“Mmm–happy birthday to me,” he groans out when he feels your plush ass roll back on his cock, he can feel it stirring under the confinements of his boxers/jeans, “fuck, ‘s not fair how you got an ass like this sitting away in your jeans baby.” He smacks your ass hard with both hands, gripping it afterwards with tight squeezes.

You hum in response and lay yourself on his chest, head tucked under his chin as you play with his big hands over your tummy. The moment is interrupted by Jimin who saunters over with Namjoon and Hoseok, “Aww birthday boy getting his cake early?” He smirks deviously as he takes a seat across from you and Jungkook, the others following suit.

“What do you want?” Jungkook sighs as he looks at his three friends, “y/n already don’t like your stupid ass, you wanna make her hate you even more?” He rolls his eyes in annoyance, ignoring Jimin’s fake little whines.

“y/n you hate me?” He immediately asks while setting the rolling tray over the coffee table, “You hate little ole me?” He grins, licking his lips.

You stare back at him unamused, giving him one look up and down before replying, “Yes, but hate is a strong word. More like.. I tolerate you,” your eyes drop down to the rolling tray, “give it to me, you’re gonna fuck it up and none of us are gonna have a good high.” You reach down to take the stuff away.

Jimin holds his hands up in surrender, “You do you then, I’m not gonna stop you.” He sits back lazily.

“Oh shit how come no one told me y/n can roll a fat blunt?” Hoseok laughs, “Man fuck you Jimin, I’m never smoking with your ass ever again.” He hits the other on the shoulder. Meanwhile Namjoon sits there watching in pure awe while you work diligently. Jungkook merely sits there with a proud look as he strokes over your hip gently with a lazy grin.

“Look at Jungkook, sittin’ all stupid over there,” Jimin snickers, “bet you really wanna make her your baby mama now.”

“Course she’s my baby mama, look at her,” Jungkook says, almost offended that Jimin would think otherwise, “fuck getting married first I wanna give her my kids, gonna make her my baby mama before I wife her up.” He grins as the others laugh, he feels your hand smack his arm gently, “Huh? What is it baby?”

“Pass me the wraps,” you mumble, “c’mon,” you glare. Jungkook reaches for the wrapping paper with a quiet “yes ma’am”. You finish rolling the blunt and hand it off, “Light it,” you nod at Namjoon. The five of you smoked the blunt until there was nothing left, Hoseok said something about how Yoongi had grown this new batch of bud himself, you don’t really remember because no less than thirty minutes later it’s hitting you.

Jungkook was relaxed, idly running his hand over your thigh while he listened to Jimin ramble about something. Through your haze you noticed the song playing in the background, it definitely had you wanting to dance. You sway a little in Jungkook’s lap, quietly singing under your breath as you hum along to the smooth beat.

“She hotter than July in California,” You mumble while nodding your head to the beat.

Jungkook noticed how into the song you were, and if he was being honest he liked it too. “Let’s go baby,” he whispers in your ear and pats your ass, “up you go mama.” He helps you stand and leads you away from his protesting friends. Through the grinding couples you guys find a spot, Jungkook licks his lips as he eyes the way your hips sway.

You turn to look at him with a devious smile, one he returns enthusiastically as he gently lifts your arm and has you giving him a small spin. He whistles low and smacks your ass hard, “C’mere mama,” he brings you back, “right here baby,” he whispers hotly in your ear as he has you pressed against him with your ass right over his crotch.

“Here?” You purr softly whilst pushing back on him, hips swaying smoothly from side to side. Jungkook growls quietly and buries his face in your neck, his hands grip your hips tightly guiding them as you sway sensually to the music playing in the background.

“Right there baby, there you go.” He purrs back, “My slutty baby, you showin’ out for me? Gonna let everyone in the room know you’re mine?” Jungkook leaves hot kisses up your neck, biting teasingly at the sensitive skin there.

You reach behind to grip his fluffy hair, throwing your head back on his shoulder as you lick your lips slowly with a grin, “I’m letting everyone know what’s mine is mine, cause a few of ‘em wanna act funny thinking it’s cute.”

Jungkook groans when you slowly lean forward, bending over as your ass sits perfectly over his now hard cock. “Shit baby,” he watches you with dark eyes, loving the way your ass rolls over him as you throw it back for him to see. He runs his hands over both sides of your ass, gripping it tightly as it shakes against the palms of his hands. “C’mere.” He all but growls as he yanks you into his arms.

You turn to slot your lips against his, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you sigh into the kiss. He pats the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump as he hoists you up into his arms. A few people catcall the two of you, the room fills with whistles as his stupid friends yell “get it Jeon” and some other shit you don’t really give a fuck about.

His lips move against yours with urgency, whenever you try to pull away he drags you back in with a low whine. There’s wet smacking noises that fill the space between the two of you. Jungkook is relentless, the pot in his system sends him into a frenzy, leaving him a horny mess. You’re not faring different either with how your clit buzzes in excitement, throbbing between your now slicked up folds.

“Hey Kook, say cheese!” Jimin yells.

You break from the kiss and stick your tongue out with a devious smirk, his friends release a chorus of “oohs” from the freaky sight. Jungkook laughs as he lets you do as you please, barely looking at the camera as Jimin snaps a photo of you two. “Fuck you Min.” He snorts and begins walking away. He kicks a random door open and carries you in quickly, tossing you like a ragdoll on to the bed.

“You have no idea how bad I want you baby,” he locks the door and hurriedly slips his shirt off, tossing it into a random corner, “do you even know what you do to me when you strut around with those tight little jeans and tank top baby? It’s like you do it on purpose, you want me to lose it.” He climbs over you on the bed with a low groan.

You chuckle quietly and wound your arms around his neck, “I got something else for you baby, ‘s underneath,” you wiggle teasingly while letting the straps of your top slip off your shoulders.

Jungkook licks his lips excitedly and starts undressing you, he shoves your jeans out of the way and tosses your top somewhere with his shirt. “Fucking hell.” He hisses when he sees what you got on under. You lay there spread out for him in all your glory, a coy smile on your face as you push your arms together so your tits press together sinfully.

“You like it?” You purr.

“I fucking love it.” He growls back and leans down to smash his lips against yours, “Gonna fuck you so hard till you’re making a mess all over my cock, gonna have that pussy dripping by the time I’m done with you.” He whispers harshly in between kisses.

You moan softly, mumbling in between kisses as your hands travel from his shoulders to the back of his neck. “Kook…mm..wanna suck your cock,” you softly say as you look up with hazy eyes, “want you to fuck my face baby, gonna make it nice and wet for you,” you purr softly.

His pupils are dilated with desire pooling in his eyes, he doesn’t reply verbally and pushes you back as he climbs over you, “Yeah? You gonna suck my cock like the good little slut you are? Gonna let me use that little throat of yours?” He thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down slightly to tease you. “Answer me baby.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “want it so bad baby.” You bite down on your lip while looking him in the eye. Jungkook unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall open as he pulls his cock out from his boxers. The head leaks drops of cum which falls on to your tits, he strokes over his shaft with a low hiss as he guides the weeping head to your lips.

“Open for me baby.” He whispers, watching closely as your lips envelop his throbbing cock, the sides of your mouth hugging his shaft just nicely as he feeds you inch for inch.

Your tongue lies flat on the underside of his shaft poking at his sensitive throbbing veins, tears spring in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat. You will yourself not to gag as quiet little moans slip past, sending vibrations all over his cock. Jungkook cusses under his breath, he stays perfectly still with a hand fisting your hair tightly, using it as leverage.

“Doing so good for me,” he slurs out, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep moaning like that.”

Slowly he slides his cock out until the tip remains, giving you a couple of seconds to regain your senses before he’s pushing back in. Jungkook moans under his breath and begins rolling his hips against your face, his head is thrown back as he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the feeling of your hot tight throat around his cock. “Just like that baby, keep going,” he blissfully smiles, hips kicking upwards more forcefully with each thrust.

You gag loudly, spit trails down your chin and the sides of your mouth as you fight to keep your gag reflex under control. Jungkook mindlessly humps your face and his balls are pressed snug against your chin. He grinds his hips in slow circles, his groans are louder as he pulls your head back and lets his cock slip out of your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’.

“So fuckin’ messy,” he pants, “wanna eat your pussy out mamas, don’t wanna cum like this..” He jerks his cock in his hand, slapping the head repeatedly on your swollen glossy lips, “Yeahhh…just like that baby, open up wide, gonna make you slobber on it.” He lazily grins.

You swirl your tongue around the weeping head and moan at the tangy taste of his pre-cum. You want more so you lift your head to get his cock back in your mouth but he stops you, “Let me have it baby, just wanna make you feel good..” He sighs in bliss as he climbs off of you, going down until he nestles between your soft thighs.

Your pussy’s a mess by now, you completely soaked through the lace panties you wore for tonight. Jungkook wastes no time in peeling them off of you, moaning low when he sees dribbles of slick sticking to your plump folds and creating a small string connected to your panties.

“Relax for me,” his hot breath fans over your pussy, “gonna have my birthday present.” He grins before going down, hot tongue laving over your drenched pussy.

“Ohh,” you slur out with your head thrown back, “ ‘s good right there..” You twist your hand in Jungkook’s hair and grip it tightly between your fingers. Low slurping and smacking noises fill the otherwise quiet room as Jungkook eats you like you’re his last meal.

You throw your arm above your head to grip the pillows lying around the bed. His tongue glides over your throbbing clit in figure of eights, flicking back and forth in quick motions that has your back arching off the bed. Jungkook is relentless, he’s got two fingers knuckle deep in your throbbing little pussy. Your poor cunt drools all over his digits, coating them in creamy slick which runs down your ass and onto the blankets underneath.

“Jungkook..” Your head thrashes from side to side as you mewl in pleasure, Jungkook grunts and covers your entire pussy with his hot mouth. Small breathless “uh’s” leave your lips, you tighten your hold on his unruly curls and press his face closer between your thighs. “Right there,” you breath out shakily.

He pumps his fingers deeper and curls them upward to find that special little spot inside of you. Jungkook pulls back from your cunt as he pants hotly, “That’s it baby, cum for me,” he groans low, eyes flickering from your pussy to you. You look so pretty like this in the throes of pleasure, head thrown back and lips parted in a small ‘o’.

“Jungkook..!” Your hips buck against his fingers and your pussy clenches tight, spasming under his touch as a flood of wetness slowly seeps out of you.

You make a real mess this time judging by the slick noises your pussy makes as Jungkook slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Your cunt throbs uncontrollably from your intense orgasm as you lay there trying to recover with a pounding heartbeat.

Jungkook climbs up and over you, hovering low as his necklace dangles in your face. “Hi mamas.” He greets with a soft grin. He leans down to press small chaste kisses over your pillowy lips.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck and bring him down for more kisses, “Hi,” you greet softly with a tiny smile. His cock twitches from where it’s pressed right against your thigh, you reach down to grip it and stroke him slowly, “Gonna fuck me now or what?” You say in a sultry tone.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “slip me in your little pussy baby.” He hovers over you with his hands on either side of your head, “Go on.” He licks his lips. You eagerly spread your thighs farther apart and slowly guide him to your messy pussy.

He pushes past your wet sticky folds, a loud squelch fills the room when his cockhead breaches your slicked up hole. “Kook,” you moan softly as you press him in, “fuck..fuck me,” you whisper and let his cock go in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he kicks his hips forward, sinking into your tight pussy in one go. He stuffs his fat cock in and stills for a moment, “Oh shit baby,” he moans out. You can feel his cock throb harshly for a few seconds, so you decide to tease him a little by rhythmically squeezing around him. “Fuck don’t do that baby,” he hisses out as he grips your hip tightly.

“Then fuck me like you promised.” You whisper, “Take what’s yours.” You purr softly as you hook your thighs around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as you hold on to him.

Jungkook slowly pulls out until the tip remains, and after a few seconds he slams back inside in a series of rough thrusts. His hips smack hard into yours, balls colliding with your ass as they wetly slap against your cheeks. You throw your head back with a loud cry leaving you. Your poor body is jostled around, threatening to slide up the bed from the force of his thrusts.

“Fuck,” you whimper through gritted teeth, “just like that baby, keep going,” you plead softly as you take the rough fucking.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, in fact he’s full on moaning while fucks your pussy like a madman. His cock strikes deep against your g-spot, the head occasionally pokes your cervix but it’s nothing too serious because he finds a way to get his cock back on your g-spot. You watch as his necklace swings back and forth in your face, his whimpers and quiet groans slowly becoming louder than the sounds of your wet pussy and his balls slapping against your taint.

“Jungkook..!” You desperately cling to his shoulders and hug his body close to yours, “Right there—don’t stop baby, please,” you whine amidst his moaning.

“Not gonna stop baby,” he slurs out, “gettin’ so close, gonna make it so messy baby.” He leans down to hide his face in your neck, hugging you tight while he grinds his cock deep in figures of eights.

A long moan leaves you from the change of angle, you rake your nails down his back from the intense pleasure he’s giving you. You’re getting so close again with the way your pussy throbs and clenches tight. Jungkook doesn’t sound like he’s far behind either with the way he grinds into you faster and faster.

“Mm..!” You throw your head back and grit your teeth, “C-Coming..!” Jungkook reaches down swiftly to rub his thumb over your clit rapidly, a loud cry of surprise leaves you as your thighs quake, “Jungkook!” You sob out as your cunt throbs. A wave of heat hits you all over as you’re left shaking in the aftermath of your second orgasm.

Jungkook shows mercy by stopping his torture on your throbbing clit, but he chases after his own pleasure with a series of hard thrusts. His moans rise in volume until he shouts with pleasure when his own orgasm hits him, he grinds in deep and slow to ensure every last drop of his cum stays in your ruined pussy.

“Oh fuck..” He pants out as he comes to a stop, “Shit..” He swallows harshly and looks down between you two to admire the way your cunt looks so shiny covered in slick etc. “You okay baby?” He smacks his lips tiredly. When you nod back at him he cups your face gently, “Stay here, ‘m gonna go get some water and see if Jimin will let us crash here.” He kisses your forehead.

“Love you.” You softly reply and curl up into a tiny ball when he gets off of you.

“Love you too mamas.” He replies back as he re-dresses and heads out, “Best birthday gift ever.” He grins lazily while walking out after locking the door behind him.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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eelnoise · 9 months

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for me, only

zoro x gn!reader (lmk if i missed something) 18+ NSFW c/w: cock worship, cock slapping, cock SUCKING, balls on ur face, zoro fucks your throat then gets fluffy a/n: this shit has haunted me for days. the way i need his cock and balls on my fucking face? dont even wanna talk about it @bby-deerling @themushroomofdeath @sleepymarimo @kaizokuniichan u go :-)

You watch intently, transfixed by the way Zoro’s fingers slide beneath the waistband on his pants. Eyes follow even the smallest movements he makes, and though you’ve seen him - been with him this intimately before - each time enchants you as if it were the first.

He’s stunning - equal parts enticing as he is intimidating. So devastatingly breathtaking, a composition of paint strokes on canvas so exquisite and striking that would cause even the most mastered artists to fall to their knees. And you’re the one who gets to touch, to inspect and admire such a masterpiece to your heart’s content?

You count your blessings, thanking whichever nameless force that binds you to him, and as the length of his cock bounces free, so thick and ready and glistening with beaded pre-cum, your eyes widen in admiration and desire. “Yknow, I think it’s longer than my head,” you say off-handedly, the racing thoughts from within your mind subconsciously boiling over into words.

A snicker from above, and your eyes jolt upward to see Zoro smirking deviously at you with a brow twisted in intrigue. His teeth peek from behind his lips, and when he takes a step forward you know that you’re in for… something.

He reaches out toward you, his hand enclosing around your chin with enough force to keep your head in place as he considers your curious expression. “You wanna test that theory?”

You feel your lips bend into a grin of your own, a fire igniting in your chest at whatever he had up his sleeve when your eyes meet one anothers. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good answer,” he replies, a noticeable bite in his tone. Before you can even think - Zoro’s hand falls from your chin to your shoulder, and with a jolt are you pushed to your knees. He knows to be gentle enough not to truly hurt you, a push and pull of long established relationship dynamics that come as second nature between you both without a second thought. Your eyes are locked the entire time, the anticipation sparking hot and sharp as he maneuvers you with ease into where he wants you.

Zoro hovers above you while you watch on, attention wavering between his face to his cock and back. You’re not quite sure if he’s joking, or what he has up his sleeve, though anticipation’s proof pools between your thighs regardless. He grasps his cock in one hand, holding it just above your lips tantalizingly, achingly out of reach despite your need to taste him. The other hand snaps to the back of your head, pooling enough hair in his fist to hold you in place, just tight enough to silently warn you. ‘Do not move.’

“Open.”

At once, your mouth opens, tongue lolling out eagerly. A soft groan escapes him and his cock visibly twitches in his hold at your obedience. “Eager, huh?” Zoro breathes out as he inches closer, the musky, sweaty essence of him fills your nostrils, driving you crazy with desire, and instinctively you lean upward in an attempt to meet his flesh with your tongue.

Zoro pulls you back into place, clicking his teeth in faux disappointment and peering down at you with amusement. “Not yet,” he scolds, the devilish grin still carved into his visage, “we're measurin’ first, remember?”

“Fine,” You huff, frowning in half-jest as he pulls you away from what you want most. He hums, satisfied with your docility - the sound echoes in your ears, an enticing ring that collides with your senses so sharply and so abrupt that you’re rendered nigh-helpless.

The way his darkened expression blends with the flush to his cheeks, displayed before you as if an idol, tall and broad and begging to be revered - it’s intoxicating.

And he knows you’re weak for him.

Zoro splays his cock across the length of your face suddenly, his length falling against you with unexpected force. You’d never considered how heavy he is until the burden quite literally weighs your head down, but your eyes are blown wide with lust that he can feel.

Smirking deviously, Zoro leans back a bit and watches as your expression changes from surprise to pure arousal, clearly unable to resist the sight and sensation of his dick that rests upon your face. “Looks like it is bigger than your head,” He muses smugly, teasing you with a wickedly tempting chuckle. “But it looks good on ya.”

He takes his time rubbing himself across your face, finding the sight of you covered with his cock insatiable. "Fuck, look at ya," Zoro coos lowly, mushing the head of his cock onto the outside of your cheek and leaving a trail of pre-cum in its wake. "So pretty n’ perfect under my cock like this."

You whine, desperate and dripping from his praise, a deep-seated sigh flowing warm from your open mouth. Your breath spurs him downward, making sure to tap each of your cheeks with it on his way before leaning back again. "You want a taste that badly, don't chya?” Zoro chuckles. “Then here, have one." You feel Zoro press his heavy balls onto your chin and slide them upward over your mouth, toes curling at the warmth on your skin and the taste on your tongue as you inhale his scent more deeply.

Zoro groans, his eyes gleaming with a mix of lust and amusement as he watches you drunk on him. "You’re so greedy," he says, his voice dropping lower and taking on a more dominant tone. He slowly moves his hips back and forth, grinding himself against your face more before pulling back slightly and holding his cock just out of reach of your lips. "C'mon now, beg for it." Zoro demands as he playfully smacks your tongue with the tip of his cock, voice firm but filled with desire. "Tell me how much you me in that pretty little mouth of yours."

"Please," You mewl, a pleading and almost pathetic look in your gaze. "I need it! I need to taste you so badly, Zoro! More than anything..”

Smirking at your desperation, Zoro grabs onto your chin firmly, forcing your face up to meet his “You want it? Then you're gonna have to beg for it properly. And don't think you can just say please once and be done with it, either,” He leans in closer, tightening his hold on the mass of now messy hair between his fingers. “Keep saying please until I'm satisfied.” As Zoro holds you captive with one hand and demands your undivided attention, he presses the tip of his throbbing erection against your mouth.

"Please... Please..." You repeat over and over while he continues to assault your tongue, the wet slap of your saliva against him interrupting your cries of wanton desire. “Tastes so good, need it all~”

Your eyes lock onto his, and with a nod as all the warning you’ll get, he allows you the pleasure you seek and slides his cock into your mouth. As you begin to suckle on him, taking him deeper into your mouth and feeling his length fill and stretch your jaw sends waves of bliss down your spine, you find that you are completely pacified, bent to his desires and adopting them as your own.

As Zoro slides further into your eager mouth, he watches your face intently, studying every nuance of expression as he takes note of how well you are taking him in. "Fuck, just like that," he says softly as he leans back slightly, giving you more room to take him deeper into your mouth. "You gonna swallow everything I give you?." He queries firmly, knowing that there will be no hesitation or resistance from your party.

Nodding your head, you accept your role as Zoro’s cum receptacle with a muffled moan of indulgence. Your tongue works furiously, tears beating at your eyes while sucking his thick shaft deep into your throat, eager for every drop of his salty seed. "Mmmph~!"

Zoro tugs at your hair, using the strands as leverage to work you up and down his cock at his own speed. He ruts his hips into you, growling and panting in absolute satisfaction as you slurp and gag and drool, relishing in the messy and sloppy way you sound as he hits the back of your throat.

His other hand finds your head as well, holding it tightly between each of them and thrusting into your mouth as he chases his dawning high. His breath is shaky and ragged, and he uses you as far as your mouth will allow him - his balls smacking against your chin in a rhythm that will inevitably prove impossible for even the swordsman to master.

With a groan and a drawn out exhale, Zoro digs his nails into your scalp and cums.His cock fills your throat with hot, thick seed, and he watches with satisfaction as he sees your muddied expression. He knows what he does to you, and there is nothing you would resist doing for him at this point. His hips buck slightly as he releases his load, sending wave after wave down your waiting throat. He grunts softly as he empties himself into you, feeling the warmth of his cum filling your mouth, and he revels in the knowledge that he has marked you as his own.

"Swallow all of it.”

You do as you're told, swallowing around him and making him hiss as you drink up his mess. He twitches in your mouth, determined to ride the sensation out to its fullest. Zoro smiles down at you then, releasing you from his hold, and as he pulls out of your throat, he rests a large warm hand on your cheek. You can feel the affection radiating from him, and your heart backflips in your chest.

He strokes you with a gentle caress of his thumb. “Y’alright?” He murmurs, his face softening at your messy hair and swollen lips. “Didn’t go too hard, did I?”

“I’m great~” You purr, peering up at him with heavy lidded eyes. He doesn’t miss the seductive tone of your voice, instead smirking at you once again with a twinkle in his eye.

“Good,” Zoro helps you to your feet and pulls you flush against him, locking his lips to yours in a hungry, wild, yet passion-filled kiss. “‘Cause I ain’t done with ya yet.”

#roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #zoro x reader smut #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x reader #op hcs #whatever

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queenendless · 10 months

Text

🌅Dawn (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)🌅

A/N: Wholesome fluffy lovey dovey pillow talk kinda mornings with these two. I am miffed there is no character audio with these two x listener anywhere, talk about injustice! Well this is my take on it and imma do more in the future!

*11/22/23 - I consider this oneshot part of the teacher!AU. Sorry for that abrupt decision!

Yo, this week's episode ... insane~ This season actually is insane so.

All credit for JJK and its characters goes to Gege.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

Enjoy.

A deep rumbling groan parted the lips belonging to the snowy haired man face first in his pillow on one side of the bed that was moving too much to his liking.

"Who's rocking the bed this early?" Even in sleepiness, he had to slip in an innuendo.

A groggy yawn fell from the lips of his raven long haired partner on the opposite side of the bed, tiredly jabbing. "You would be my immediate guess."

The rustle of sheets and the sensation of a smaller warm form brushing in between them brought them both more attentively out of their drowsy state. Gojo looked over his shoulder to see something moving downwards to the bed's end. A curly grin surfaced on his face. "Hmm …"

His shadow loomed over the anxious form hidden beneath. "Well, well, well~" His hands stretched out and his fingers wiggled. "What have we here~?"

His fingers striking their form had familiar giggles spilling out, bringing a snicker out of him. "Suguru~ Someone's down here~"

Said man rolled over on his back, resting his arms behind his head, watching with tired amusement at his best friend tickling the certain someone hidden through their sheets. "Oh~?"

"A sneaky little cutie was trying to slip out whilst we were sleeping~" Gojo’s evil low laugh spelled doom.

Gojo pulled the sheets up enough to slip underneath, resulting in a fit of laughter from both parties hidden, as he went back to gentle tickling. Limbs squirmed and jostled underneath followed by streams of intermingling laughter as they kept bumping into Geto's thighs. "H-Hey!"

Feeling a smaller body drape over his lap startled Geto enough to pull off the sheets to see what the heck was going on.

Seeing you tug down his low hanging sweatpants enough for you to gingerly kiss his two small beauty marks on his right hip so affectionately made Geto’s heart pitter patter rapidly.

“Sugu, please tell Toru to sta – AAHP~!" You broke out into a squeal, kicking your legs to push Gojo off but that only made him tickle you more. "Mehehehercy~!"

"Hey! No sucking up to him, missy!" Gojo jested, sliding his hands under your top, wiggling his digits into your sides deeply enough to bring out more chortling squeals.

"Hang on, Satoru~ At least let her breathe so she can make a case in her defense." Geto grabbed Gojo's persistent hands to get you free enough to breathe in thankful takes of oxygen, hugging Geto while keeping nervous eyes and an accusing finger pointed at the cat eyed miscreant.

"I promised Nanami I would go out and help him with some errands. Haibara is stuck sick at their place so it seemed only right to help them out." You defended.

"Oh, I'm sure Yu would rather be in the darling company of his Nanamin~" Gojo crawled over, nuzzling your cheek, cheekily grinning up at you as he rested his noggin on your shoulder.

"Which is why I gotta get ready and – EEP!" Your attempt at pulling away from their difficult comforting hold and getting out of bed were cut in half as their two tall heavy bodies toppled over on you, pushing you down to lay on your stomach.

"Have you forgotten you woke us up?" Satoru drawled, his cheery tone barely coating his irritation, as his hands squeezed your sensitive sides.

"Hehehey~!" Your hopeless tussle to squirm away was getting fruitless quickly.

"And you tried sneaking out with our backs turned?" Suguru added, his calm smile underlined with inner deviousness.

Satoru dramatically exclaimed. "Just to be in the company of another man – !"

"Hey, Nanami-san is our collective friend, and I gave my word to help – mmph~!" You were cut off as you were flipped to lay on your back just so Satoru could smooch you, all sloppily and deeply, his tongue brushing yours in the messy lip lock.

"It's not fair! We should spend every morning together as much as possible!" Those puffed up cheeks of his made your resolve falter.

"We do! But one day alone ain't gonna kill you two. I mean, I'm flattered for being so deeply needed but – mmh~!" Suguru's sculpted hand weaved through your locks, cradling your noggin, just to pull you close enough to languidly French kiss you, drawing pleased sighs outta you while Satoru licked and nipped your arching neck like the human cat that he is.

"We'd rather you stay here. For much … much … longer." Suguru's bedroom eyes are so palpable. His lulling, rich voice is so tempting.

"We want our sweet, darling angel to stay here." Satoru nuzzled his face in between your clothed bosoms, fluttering those long white eyelashes at you. "To cuddle, to kiss, to enrapture." His own addictive voice has you shivering in anticipation.

Their eyes are hypnotizing. Their combined scents are invigorating. The strongest duo have you hook, line, and sinker.

You sigh, conceding but floating on enamored air. "I'll meet up with Nanami later this afternoon. Fair enough?"

Their velvety beautiful faces beamed with pride and joy as they planted a kiss on either end of your lips. "Wifey~!"

"Clingy giants." You mushed out.

"We heard that." They grumbled in unison.

"Kinda the point~" Your teasing earned you a restless half hour spent feeling their ticklish butterfly kisses pepper your face, neck, and ears and turning you into a squirmy giggling mess. Your spasming legs got stuck entangled in theirs as their hands roamed your body, wiggling into your thighs, your hips, your sides. "Stahahahahahap~! Plehehehehease~!"

"God, I should use Infinite Void to keep us in this moment~" Satoru's nose pressed into your collarbone, smiling into your cherished skin.

"Perhaps." Suguru's freed raven bangs tickled your nose, aweing at the sneeze it elicited out of you, smooching your nose as an apology. "Bless you."

"Wait, rewind! You're gonna do what — MMM~!" Their hearts throbbed for their indulgence of you, stopping their tickling, preferring to smother your face in their snug fitting chests. "I made a huge mistake!" Your muffled dramatic cries had them laughing tiredly.

Eventually, everything prior had worn you three out enough to settle you down, draping the bed comforter back over yourselves, their intertwined arms keeping you cocooned and them grounded.

Even when slipping in and out of consciousness, seeing your tranquil, content face nestled in between them had them sagging in relief at how they were able to keep you around for longer.

Laxing but still snug as a bug, you were lulled by their soft breathing and their grounding coziness.

Even special grade sorcerers slash teachers need to unwind and relax. In their own little hideaway.

And having you there made it all complete.

The beams of sunshine trickled through the curtains, painting the bedroom in golden hues, as dawn became the setting of you guys' dream where three become one.

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 2 months

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OmfffffGGGG the fun I had writing this chapter GUYS—

I mean start to finish, I've been giggling like an idiot the entire mfing TIME

Well, alternating between giggling like an idiot and snickering deviously like a witch huddled over a cauldron but that's neither here nor there

Of course we have banter between Garp's dippy ass and Bogard's far more poised and reasonable demeanor, but also

BUT ALSO—

i cannot

I can't spoil it I cannot I will not I must not I shan't it would be positively rude in all honesty i will not—

Just———muffled screaming

Look I'm sorry in advance I had way too much fun with this

even mihawk is done with my shit at this point

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x Marine!AFAB!Reader

Ch. 4 of who even fcking knows at this point honestly, five? Six? Fifty? Whatever just let me vibe

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. Your first recon mission, while more or less a success, left you wounded and your commanding officers more divided than ever over the operation at hand. You have since arrived at Marineford to complete your training for the mission, and gods only know where things might go from here....

Previous chapter, First chapter, Next chapter

SFW for now, but not in later chapters

No Trigger Warnings in this chapter. Possible future Trigger Warnings for imprisonment, mild torture (definitely psychological, maybe physical)

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later Word Count: 4,832

Taglist: @i-am-vita thank you so much you have no idea how much this means to me

♫♬Halloween Blues - The Fratellis♬♫

Well, I'm gonna make ya love me, gonna make ya wish that you'd never been born

Now ya wish you'd never met me, I could be the joker that you couldn't shake off

It was agreed upon by all parties involved that not a word would be spoken of your ill-advised “test” at Kuraigana Island to anyone but Fleet Admiral Sengoku. The brunt of the chastisement fell upon Garp and Bogard, as the commanding officers overseeing the mission; and while you were scolded yourself for getting far closer than your orders had suggested you should, you were still commended for providing valuable new information.

The Marines were now aware that Kuraigana Island was home to a population of large primates, of undetermined size or intelligence but with enough intellect to use basic weaponry.

The Marines were also now aware that the presence of Dracule “Hawk-Eye” Mihawk on the otherwise abandoned island was confirmed, and that the volatile pirate had most likely set up at least a temporary base amid the desolate castle ruins.

You were permitted to keep in contact with your mother over the following months of your training as promised, with the stipulation that your letters would be screened to ensure you didn’t relay any confidential information to outside parties. As such, you wrote your final letter aboard a small unmarked vessel bound to pass by Kuraigana Island perhaps four months after the first, and had handed it over to Bogard to scan over.

Hi, Mom!

I’m still doing great, I promise. Training has been exhausting but I’ve learned a lot, and it’s been a breath of fresh air to be among people that actually seem to like me. My commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay. I trust them.

This will be the last letter for a while since I’m being deployed. You don’t have to worry, it’s nothing serious and I’ll be fine, I just won’t be somewhere that I can receive any mail. You can still write me though, and I’ll be able to reply the second I get back to my base. I don’t know exactly how long that will be, but the tentative estimate is two months. It could be sooner, but it could be a little longer.

Love you, and give my love to all our feathery friends.

“Ten minutes out,” said Garp, sitting against the railing with a doughnut hanging out of his mouth as he finished filling out the remainder of the paperwork he had put off until the very last minute.

“‘Commanding officers are a little annoying, but I guess they’re okay,’” Bogard read aloud, lowering your letter to glance down at you with a wry look.

“She’s not wrong, you’re pretty damned irritating,” said Garp. Bogard lowered his eyes to the vice admiral sitting on the deck of the ship, lifting an eyebrow.

Garp only raised his doughnut with a nod and took another bite before returning to his report. Bogard huffed out a sigh and folded the letter, turning his gaze to you as you paced back and forth across the small deck. The vessel was little more than a sloop, designed for no more than one or two people to sail on their own, sturdy enough to withstand the unpredictable weather patterns of the Grand Line but far less advanced than the standard Marine vessel. You barely noticed his gaze upon you, staring down at your feet as you paced, counting the nails in the deck boards in a futile attempt to keep your mind clear from the quickly approaching start of your mission.

You stopped in your tracks the moment Bogard cleared his throat to get your attention, lifting your head sharply and standing at attention.

“A…at ease,” he said slowly, watching you shuffle your feet and fold your hands behind your back. “Your letter will be sent once Garp and myself return to Marineford,” he assured you. “Once you have left this ship, your own contact with the Marines will cease for a period of no less than two months, unless you are forced to make emergency contact. Emergecy contact will only be employed—”

“Under the circumstance that my own life is in immediate and unquestionable danger,” you responded immediately, to which Bogard gave a curt nod.

“Correct,” he agreed. “There will be a covert Marine presence at every island neighboring Kuraigana. Should you require rescue, the closest vessel will be able to arrive within twenty-four hours.”

“She won’t need it,” Garp chimed in through the last bite of his doughnut, and in a rare break of his iron composure, Bogard reached into one of his overcoat pockets and threw a pen at him in response. You watched as Garp caught it and used the implement to sign his name at the bottom of his paperwork before flicking it across the deck of the ship. “Have a little faith, Bogard. We have at our disposal a trained weapon of subterfuge.”

Garp wrapped his hand around the railing behind him and pulled himself to his feet, strolling over to your side and clapping you on the shoulder.

“Trained under our own supervision,” he went on proudly, while Bogard closed his eyes and heaved a slow, impatient sigh, waiting for him to go on. “Who has already provided us with more up-to-date information on the target than anyone else in our ranks—”

“—I’m still not saying your impulsive little test was anything but idiotic—”

“—and humbly declined to take credit for any of it,” Garp went on , ignoring his partner. You jolted as he gave you a sharp pat on the back. “She’ll be just fine. Won’t ya, kid?”

“I’ll—perform my duties as expected of…” You trailed off into a sigh yourself when Garp rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” you said stiffly. “I’ll be fine.”

“See? She’ll be fine.”

Garp gave a firm nod, as if your word was more than enough to affirm your fate as solid fact.

And then his brow furrowed as he stared across the deck.

His eyes narrowed into a squint, and he turned his head the slightest bit, his hand lowering from your shoulder and back to his side,

“No…that’s not…”

By the time Bogard turned his head, Garp was already striding across the deck, extending a spyglass as he leaned over the railing and stared through the scope. He gave a growl of annoyance as he held the scope out behind him for Bogard to take. Your heart raced as you slowly crossed the deck to join them, your already thin resolve faltering when Bogard slowly lowered the scope to glance at Garp.

“This changes—”

“It changes nothing,” said Garp, jerking his head to look at Bogard.

You didn’t need the spyglass to see the foggy haze around Kuraigana Island past the railing, no more than you needed it to see the small ship docked near its southern banks. You couldn’t make out much about it, but you could see the one thing that mattered—it flew a black flag.

“Red-Hair,” said Garp. “I knew he’d be trouble. I told Sengoku, I told him—”

“Why the hell would he be here?” Bogard said slowly, looking back out toward the island. He glanced behind him, and held out the spyglass for you to take. You moved to the railing between them, holding it to one eye and shutting the other to look through it at the distant ship. “There’s no chance any information has—”

“No, there isn’t,” agreed Garp, as your vision adjusted against the magnification of the lenses. You scanned over the small ship, which appeared to be empty, before lifting your head to focus on its flag—a jolly roger, decorated with a pair of crossed cutlasses and a skull with three slashes across one eye.

“Red-Haired Shanks…?” you said slowly, lowering the scope, glancing between Garp and Bogard as they stared out at the ship. “Ah—three hundred million, two hundred sixty-two thousand berry bounty.”

“Sixty-three,” corrected Bogard absently, glancing at Garp. Garp remained focused, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the ship, his grip tight around the deck railing. “Vice-Admiral.” He glanced over sharply when Bogard spoke up. “This does change—”

“It changes nothing,” Garp growled firmly.

You didn’t particularly like the way Bogard leaned over the railing, holding his hat in place as he shook his head, staring at Garp with no small degree of trepidation. Your eyes shifted to Garp when he turned around to face you, frowning down at you thoughtfully,

“Or it could change things for the better,” he said slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “Well, lass. This is your call. Seems more than just Mihawk might be docked at the island ahead of us.” You nodded shortly to show you were following, waiting for him to continued. “Not much is known about Shanks as yet…to the masses.”

“Garp—”

Garp held up a hand when Bogard tossed a warning look at him.

“—but I have on good authority that he trained under Gold Roger himself.” Your eyes widened, flickering back toward the ship in question, as Bogard let out a growl of annoyance and stormed back toward the opposite side of the deck. “This is an unexpected turn.” Your gaze shot back toward Garp as he straightened out, folding his hands behind his back and staring down at you. “We can head back toward Marineford and go through all the meticulous to-do’s of officially changing our plans, spend a few more months buried in paperwork, or—”

“I’m going.” He raised his eyebrows, his lips already twitching toward a smile at the firmness of your words. “The Red-Hair pirates would be no more aware of who I am than Mihawk. There’s no point wasting any more time.”

“No, I guess there isn’t,” he agreed, grinning. He cleared his throat, cupping a hand around his mouth and making a show of calling across the small expanse of the deck to Bogard. “You might just be able to gather us a little more intel than we expeced. Hear that, Bogard? No need to delay!”

“No need to pull a muscle patting yourself on the back, either,” Bogard grumbled, just loud enough to ensure Garp heard him.

“Alright, kid,” said Garp, happily ignoring him as he leaned against the side of the railing. “We’ve got under ten minutes, so here’s the rundown.” He turned his head, looking out toward the ship moored just off the edge of the island. “Shanks, as I said. Captain, pupil of Gold Roger himself. Primary weapon is a sabre. Straw hat, bright red hair, difficult to miss. There’s Yasopp, the first man to join his crew, at the time he was regarded as the sharpest shooter in the East Blue. Dark skin, dreadlocks, carries a pair of flintlock pistols.”

“So...that’s his first mate?”

“No.” Your brow furrowed. “That would be Beckman. Dark hair, ponytail, built like a brick shithouse. Carries a flintlock rifle. He’s a damn good shot himself but he’ll use the thing as a club in close quarters. Lucky Roux, the cook, bastard’s probably as wide as he is tall…”

You listened closely to Garp’s continued colorful descriptions of the crew officers of the Red Hair Pirates—and the potential dangers they could pose to your health should anyone discover what you really were.

“Red Hair isn’t the brightest match in the box,” he went on, “but there’s a great deal of evidence that he closely rivals Dracule Mihawk in swordsmanship. Should the two end up fighting, you keep your distance. Otherwise, be exceedingly careful around Benn Beckman. He’s the idiot’s first mate for a reason and probably accounts for ninety percent of the collective brain cells of the entire crew. You’ll have to keep a close eye on him while you keep up your act. There’s no telling why they’re docked here, and it would be in your best interest to figure it out. If they’re going to be around for a while, keep your distance.”

“I...sort of doubt any of them are ornithology experts,” you said, frowning.

“As much as one might doubt that a species of unknown primates could learn to use relatively modern weaponry.” You turned your head sharply at the sound of Bogard’s voice close behind you—you hadn’t heard him cross the deck. Your frown deepened as he gave a pointed glance at the scar spanning nearly the entire length of your right upper arm. Garp, gestured to the other Marine pointedly at his statement, and you couldn’t deny that he had a point either. “You’ll keep your distance. Fooling one pirate alone is going to be a great deal easier and safer than attempting to fool an entire crew of them.” He turned his head to Garp. “This is still the most ridiculous mission I’ve ever had the displeasure of being involved in.”

“Ah, girl’s got her act down fine,” he said dismissively—and Garp wasn’t wrong about that. Your favorite part of your training by far had been simply flying around the massive base at Marineford, taking tally of how many of the staff and officers you could fool. The only individuals privy to the exact nature of your mission were Garp and Bogard, a small selection of admirals and vice admirals, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku himself. Your performance had been enough to levy a unanimous vote to go forth with the mission. “Your persona, cadet?”

“Gray parrot, previously the pet of a pirate crew that perished in battle, therefore comfortable around pirates in general,” you said. “Able to repeat a number of sounds and phrases that might be heard aboard a ship, capable of learning new phrases and words faster than most other similar species of bird. Particular disdain for Marines and may fly into a frenzy at the sight of their vessels.”

“See?” said Garp, clapping you on the back hard enough that you flinched. “I’d say we’ve got this in the bag.”

Bogard stared between the two of you for a moment, frowning, before shaking his head. “God help us all,” he muttered under his breath, lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

The final few minutes of the voyage were spent with Garp and Bogard grilling you about the small amount of information known by the Marines about Dracule Mihawk, about the quick briefing you had just received on the Red Hair pirates, about your memorization of the den den mushi numbers you were to contact in the event that your life was in immediate danger or that you found any information useful enough to wrap the operation up early. Garp gave a resolute nod as you neared your destination, around a mile and a half off the shore of Kuraigana Island, and Bogard gave a heavy sigh and a short nod in silent agreement—no matter how little he approved, you were as ready as you were going to be.

“Alright, then, cadet,” said Garp, his wide grin a direct contrast to his partner’s pessimism. “Bird mode, activate.”

“Must you call it that?” said Bogard, tossing a weary look at Garp as you gave a quick salute and immediately shrank down into your devil fruit form on the deck. You fluttered your wings enough to hop up onto the deck railing in front of them, and Bogard frowned down at you. “Best of luck,” he offered. “Should all go according to plan, we’ll see you again in no more than two months.”

He cringed the slightest bit when you raised your wing in another salute, squawking out over Garp’s snort of laughter, “Wind in your sails!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Garp, waving you off. “Now shoo, bird. And no getting yourself killed.”

And once more, you found yourself flying out toward Kuraigana Island.

You made a high pass over the Red Hair’s ship, squinting down toward it as you soared overhead, and the cause of their mooring near the island became quickly clear—it appeared that there was work being performed on a few sizable cannonball holes on the port side of the vessel. You were surprised to see a handful of the crew on the beach near the edge of the forest, seeming to be laughing among themselves and having a grand time, the primates that had attacked you nowhere in sight. Lucky Roux was easy enough to pick out, exactly as Garp had described him—striped shirt and tinted goggles, easily as wide as he was tall, sitting against a tree and taking a bite out of what looked like an entire leg of lamb while another crewmate assisted in bandaging his arm.

Perhaps they had had a run-in with the local apes.

You took that as enough reason to remain vigilant as you flew high over the forest, scanning the treetops below for any signs of movement. It was a relief that there seemed to be none—if the Red Hair pirates had come in contact with the violent creatures, it seemed they had managed to beat them into submission. You considered how Garp had told you that no one had ever entered the island on foot and lived to tell the tale, and it sent a shiver over your spine to think that the crew might be that formidable.

The first signs of movement you witnessed came only once you neared the castle itself, and you nearly faltered in your flight.

Your target was directly below you.

Sitting on a broken piece of stone wall in the courtyard, clad in a white shirt with a ruffled collar and a pair of black pants, his hat sitting to the side next to him, his massive sword lying across his lap as he polished the handle. You slowly, cautiously circled lower, keeping a fair distance, your eyes remaining on the pirate. His mouth seemed to be fixed in a scowl, his posture tense.

You cautiously landed in one of the castle windows several feet away, side-stepping until you were perched in the very corner of the indentation, your gray plumage a perfect camouflage against the rugged stone, and the reason for Mihawk’s clear irritation became immediately evident as the sound of a nonchalant voice tore your gaze away from him.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Hawk-Eye.”

Shanks.

Garp’s description had once again been right on the money—his stringy scarlet hair was capped by a straw-hat, his hands tucked behind his neck as he paced across a pile of rubble that might have once been a wall, a long sabre tucked into his red cloth belt at his right hip. He hopped down to the ground as you watched, resting his elbow on the hilt of the sword as he stared up at the castle. “Be a shame if something happened to it.”

He reached over with his left hand, wrapping it around the handle of the sword, and you tensed immediately, prepared to take flight as he grinned and glanced over at Mihawk.

“Divi—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, his sword extended out at arm’s length, the blade less than an inch away from Shanks’s neck, his sharp yellow eyes narrowing to threatening slits as Shanks lifted his hands up in mock-surrender, still grinning.

“Only kidding,” he said, taking a cautious step back from the edge of the black blade.

Mihawk eyed him with a venomous glare for a few seconds longer before pulling his blade back swiftly to his side and rolling his eyes, a growl of annoyance leaving him as he turned on his heel and stormed back over to the broken wall, sitting down once more. “Remind me of what the hell you’re doing here and precisely why you haven’t left yet?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my friends?” said Shanks, clutching at his chest dramatically in feigned offense. Mihawk ignored the redhead as he sat down heavily on the ground, grabbing a bottle of dark liquor propped up against the pile of rubble and working the cork loose. “Hey, it’s not my fault. This is where the Log pose pointed us. We needed to do a few repairs on the ship. Noticed your old rowboat moored nearby—”

“Rowboat,” Mihawk repeated under his breath, one of his eyes twitching the slightest bit.

“So what’s with the pissed off monkeys, anyway?” said Shanks, nodding toward the forest before taking a swig from the bottle and flicking the cork over his shoulder. “Few of them were damn near as good with a sword as you are.” Mihawk’s eyes shot toward him in a warning glare, and rolled away when Shanks gave a broad grin in response. “Train them yourself?”

“No,” he said shortly. “The humandrills were already quite capable with a variety of weapons when I arrived—”

“Aww, you named them?”

“I discovered the name among the historical documents in castle,” he said through his teeth. “It seems they learned to use weapons by watching their human neighbors before they managed to wipe themselves out. Perhaps,” he went on, before Shanks could speak up again, “your time would better be served overseeing the repairs on your ship so you can leave the moment they’re done.”

“Oh, the repairs are almost finished,” said Shanks, waving a dismissive hand. “Just waiting for the log pose to finish linking up.” He took a sip from his bottle, lifting his eyebrows. “Why? Aren’t you enjoying the company?”

“Oh, yes, immensely,” Mihawk responded dryly.

Your eyes darted between the pair of pirates amid their exchange, keeping yourself perfectly still in the stone windowsill. It was clear that Shanks, at least, was enjoying himself, and that they seemed to have some sort of history between them. It was equally clear that Mihawk would have very much preferred that his company take a long walk off the nearest short pier. He still kept his irritation in check, though whether it was out of any actual sense of camaraderie or he simply didn’t feel like wasting his energy fighting remained unclear.

Their exchange gave you an almost overwhelming sense of déjà vu, and you made a mental note to inform Garp and Bogard of it the next time you saw them.

“Oh, so grumpy,” Shanks commented, leaning back against the rubble behind him, stretching an arm out across one of his knees. “Why don’t you go take a nap, old man? I’m sure there are plenty of beds more than suited for someone of your positively regal manner.” Mihawk went on polishing the golden handle of his sword, not bothering to glance up. “Probably more than enough beds for any number of guests—”

“No,” said Mihawk coolly, still keeping his eyes turned down toward his sword.

“Oh, come on,” Shanks groaned in complaint, laying his head back. His mouth turned down into a despondent sort of pout, tilting his head to look over at the castle—and you tensed immediately, holding your breath, remaining still as a statue. “I’ve never even been in a castle before—”

“No,” Mihawk said again, louder this time, his yellow eyes fixing on Shanks with a firm gaze this time.

“You’re absolutely no fun at all,” Shanks huffed, lifting a small piece of stone from the ground and tossing it in his direction in a half-hearted manner. “You know, you’re going to die sad and alone one day in your desolate castle.”

“And what a peaceful end it will be,” said Mihawk disinterestedly, rolling his eyes back down to the sword across his lap as he buffed a rag across the gleaming blue gem at the end of the hilt.

“But not friendless,” Shanks added, completely ignoring him. He offered another broad grin. “I’ll always be your frien—”

“Would you just go away already?” Mihawksighed wearily, lifting his head and tossing the rag aside. “It’s abundantly clear what you’re attempting to do, and it isn’t going to work.”

“Oh, and just what am I trying to do?” said Shanks...and he seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, before adding in a cheeky tone, “...friend?”

“You’re fishing for a fight,” said Mihawk, gritting his teeth, briefly gripping the handle of his sword before releasing it from his grasp. “And I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh come. On,” Shanks groaned once more, leaning back heavily and pouting. “I’m bored. There’s literally nothing on this damned island except a pile of rocks and a bunch of trees and a particularly nice castle—”

“No.” Shanks gave a huff of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Mihawk. “Go off and play with the other monkeys if you’re so damned bored.”

“They’re already afraid of me,” he huffed, pouting like a child. He brushed a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, turning his gaze out toward the forest. “Stupid apes.” Mihawk only rolled his eyes, shook his head, and returned to the idle task of sword maintenance. “I’m frankly surprised you didn’t just slaughter all of them the moment you set foot here.”

“They make for a decent security system,” he said levelly.

“Or you’re secretly just a big softie—”

Shanks straightened out and gave another broad grin when Mihawk tossed a sharp glare at him...and then slumped back down in defeat when his supposed “friend” gave a heavy sigh and turned his attention back to his sword.

It went on this way for some time—Shanks continually poking and prodding, attempting to annoy Mihawk enough to coax him into a fight; and Mihawk persisting in the task of sword maintenance, running a whetstone across the already razor-sharp edge of the blade as he fought to keep his composure. The entire spectacle was rather like watching an excitable puppy yip at a surly cat.

You shifted your gaze to the edge of the nearby forest when Shanks looked over, the young captain waving once the rustling of the dense leaves gave way to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a black shirt, picking leaves out of his ponytail—no doubt Benn Beckman, from the description Garp had offered you. There was indeed a large rifle slung back across one of his shoulders, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He glanced toward Mihawk, before stopping just short of his captain, looking down at him.

“Repairs are finished and the Log Pose’s set,” he said, his brow furrowing when Shanks frowned in clear disappointment. “We getting off of this rock or are you still antagonizing the current inhabitants?”

“I am visiting with a dear old friend,” said Shanks, giving an indignant huff and crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes back over to Mihawk. “Isn’t that right, Hawkie—?”

“Call me that again and you’ll be leaving this island wearing your entrails as necklace,” said Mihawk coolly.

“See?” said Shanks, gesturing toward Mihawk. “We’re just catching up on old times.”

Beckman stared down at his captain for a long moment, frowning, his cigarette smoldering at the corner of his mouth. He finally shook his head and stepped back a couple paces, leaning back against a pile of stones and crossing his arms. “Alright,” he said. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I am,” Shanks assured him with a positively gleeful grin. He rolled his shoulders and took a drink from the bottle of liquor clenched in his hand, his eyes drifting back over to Mihawk. “Well, it seems our all too pleasant reunion may be drawing to a close, Hawkie—”

Shanks’s grin only widened when Mihawk lifted his gaze to glare at him, his hand gripping tighter around the whetstone.

Shanks seemed to bite his tongue for a moment, pursing his lips to suppress his growing amusement at Mihawk’s growing annoyance, before his expression spread back into a grin as he lifted his eyebrows.

“How about a little kiss goodbye—y’know, between friends and all—”

“That’s it—”

Mihawk was on his feet in a flash, tossing the whetstone away.

Shanks was on his feet just as quickly, a look of absolute glee brightening his features as he drew his sabre.

Beckman took a few casual steps off to the side, pulling his cigarette down from his lips to flick the ashes away, shaking his head, his hand tightening around the butt of his rifle almost imperceptibly.

And you, in spite of yourself, let out a tiny squawk of alarm at the entire spectacle...and quickly realized your mistake.

While Mihawk surged forward with his blade drawn, while Beckman kept his sharp eyes flickering between him and his captain, Shanks’s gaze flickered over toward the sound you had just let out.

And his eyes widened the slightest bit as his eyes met yours.

And he lifted his sword to block what would have been a deadly blow from Mihawk as he continued staring at you as you froze in the windowsill, your feathers ruffling out the slightest bit in response to the terror dawning over you.

Beckman also followed his captain’s gaze, lifting an eyebrow as he noticed your presence.

Shanks drew in a sharp breath, his eyes growing even wider, wide as the eyes of a child with a bottomless wallet in a candy shop. One single, almost breathless word left his lips as they spread into a delighted smile:

“Parrot.”

Next chapter link again, for your convenience

First chapter link again, for your convenience

#one piece #opla #mihawk x reader #mihawk #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #monkey d. garp #garp #bogard #red hair pirates #shanks #fan fiction #one piece fan fiction #fanfic #one piece fanfic #flightrisk

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tragedy-of-commons · 6 months

Text

killjoy

childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k

You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.

tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair

notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)

It has been one hell of a day.

Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car.

To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.

It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—

The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.

Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.

“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”

“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”

“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two.

A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”

You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”

“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”

He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”

Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.

You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.

“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”

You snicker deviously. “Really?”

“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”

Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys.

Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.

(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on.

When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.

(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)

Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.

“Bad day, huh?”

You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”

“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”

You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.”

Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”

“Don’t tell me you—”

“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”

You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.

From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”

Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.

“What’s it to?”

“Our place.”

It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”

Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”

The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.

“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.

You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”

“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”

The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.

His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm.

“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”

You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”

Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”

“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.

“I love you too, Killjoy.”

That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.

taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee

#✧ my works #—stellaronhvnters.#childe x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe tartaglia ajax #childe genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #ajax x reader #genshin impact #zira's lover : event

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serxinns · 3 months

Note

Hello :3 👋

Could you do a Yandere pro hero’s (The reader is like 29) with a chubby reader and chubby reader gets like made fun of by some group of men

:3 ty and have a good day

My pleasure

TW: blood, violent against both the reader and the guys, cussing, obsessive unhealthy behavior, and implied blackmailing and prob death (not towards reader

So let's just say you were walking down the street all dressed up and pretty, you were feeling confident thanks to Mount Lady giving you make-up tips and skincare recommendations a few days ago, you were looking more younger and beautiful heck even Hawks, Mirko, and Fatgum started drooling when they saw you all dressed up just for them, they praised you head to toe falling more in love and desire for you the ever!

You were just heading back from a mall hangout with Nemuri, your hands were full of perfumes she preferred and some snacks you were listening to music on your headphones not noticing a group of guys chatting, laughing, and drinking, they spotted you walking towards them and stared at you passing by them they looked at each other and smirked deviously, one of the guys picked up a half drunken beer can and threw it directly at of your head

"Hey!" You looked back angrily to see a group of men snickering and whispering something under their breath which seemed to piss you off "What gives asshole!? Ths trash was over there" "Well I threw it at the trash didn't I?" The other men snickered as the other men threw their drunken cans at you which luckily you dodged them "Dance piggy dance!" They all laughed like middle schoolers, saying such crude words like "whale" or "Cow legs"

You were glaring daggers at the men wanting to punch them or heck kick them right in their tiny dicks but you didn't wanna deal with their bullshit plus arguing with guys like those wouldn't be worth it so you flipped them off and began walking off the men glared at you dissatisfied that you were walking away from them so they quickly surrounded you causing you to bump into them

"Why going so soon today? To stuff your face with greasy foods" They all laughed as they started pushing you around pointing at your body and calling it every name that has to do with your body "JUST GO AWAY" you said slicing one of the men close up to you on the stomach causing him to let go and you booked it not caring if you injuries him or not

the men yelled something in anger and started chasing you down, using their quirks to atleast get a hit on you, one of the men's quirk was a laser and when he was forming his finger as a gun aiming it at you, a red feather stabbed the man's hand deep making him howl in agony while the others stared, stunned and confused untill keigo slowly flew down infront of you spreading his left wing out as of we was protecting you

"Keigo!" You happily said hugging him from behind he looked at you and smiled "Hey chickadee heard you needed help" he said as he glared at the group as they stumbled back in fear "O-oh shit... ITS HAWKS!" One of the men stuttered and ran away fearing they'll get arrested or worse except one who seemed to be the leader "WHERE YOU ASSHOLES GOING!?" he said watching how his gang running away with their tails between their legs

He was then met with a harsh punch by hawks he flew back into the street light face bodying aching while his face formed a bruise and drops of blood coming from his nose he grunted in pain clutching his sides and looking up at a menacing Keigo, his golden eyes piercing to the man's soul the man stumbled back a big spat out some cuss words and quickly stumbled off looking for his gang

"Tsk coward.." Keigo sneered under his breath he quickly calmed down when he saw you broke down crying in relief, he ran up to you and hugged you tightly confronting you the best way he could picking you up princess style and flying you to your house "Hey.." Keigo looked over to you "If it's not a bother can you and Mirko stay the night please.." his heart fluttered when you asked that but realized mirko was also wanna spend the night so he agreed and you called mirko up

The 3 of you had the best night ever it was full of cuddles competitiveness, chaos, and games as you soundly went to sleep Mirko and Keigo were the only ones awake staring endlessly at your sleeping figure until the rabbit hero spoke up, "You still got that feather on them kei?" Keigo looked up to him and nodded "Yep it seems like they threw it in the trash such a big mistake.."

he smirked deviously thinking about what torture method he was gonna do with them while Mirko was typing away on her phone to the pro hero group chat the photo of the men who attacked you, Aizawa later on pull up a picture of their address and crimmal history while him and mic smiled deviously

Oh how this will be fun~

#yandere bnha #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsessive behavior #yandere pro heros #yandere vs yandere #yandere aizawa #yandere hawks #yandere mirko #yandere fatgum #yandere present mic #yandere midnight #yandere mha #bnha fluff #bnha angst

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cxsmicbaby · 1 year

Text

something nice - 1

CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)

you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you.

𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“And then... my uncle died.”

“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer.

“And I realized. I’m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”

“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears.

Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy.

Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow.

“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily.

I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure.

“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel.

“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it.

“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely.

“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”

“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?”

Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me.

I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”

“Like?” Here we go.

“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school.

“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me.

We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place.

Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”

I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.”

Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform.

“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.”

That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them.

“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.”

I smile. “You know I am.”

Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks.

The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules.

Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it.

I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically.

“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person.

“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.”

I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!”

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?”

The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason.

I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it.

The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.”

That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby.

Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing.

But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same.

The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me.

“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now.

So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me.

“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”

Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.”

That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall.

“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing.

Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head.

“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.”

I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real.

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”

Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.”

I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!”

I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head.

“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?”

Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you.

“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does.

He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it.

You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away.

“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.”

You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown.

“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.

“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never.

He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it.

You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.”

Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave.

You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave.

Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself.

It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed.

Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.

You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time.

“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for.

Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say.

“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected.

And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination.

The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.

“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him.

“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it.

“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.”

And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be.

But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy.

Like most things, that also made Miguel angry.

You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place.

If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.

Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you.

And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him.

How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him.

Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice.

The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing.

Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you.

When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away.

“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough.

Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him.

He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan.

When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself.

He washes himself off and gets out of the shower.

When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are.

He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still.

𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER TWO

402 notes · View notes

haruchi-slit · 10 months

Text

INKED!

Synopsis →⁠_⁠→

Choso as your favorite tattoo artist

a/n: I should be doing stuff for pilot shit,still, im here writting unholy shits again, lord please forgive me.

Warnings: fem! reader, cream pie, dirty talks, pussy eating and many more

You booked an appointment about one month ago, you just couldn't help to get a new tattoo, but c'mon, we both know that you just want to fuck that hot tattoo artist, Choso, and you know that he's waiting for that moment too, with the smirk he's giving you while etching his machine to your skin, the way his hands with leather gloves brush thru your skin, his gaze, full of lust and desire and the way he press his body close to you in purpose.

You wanted to surprise him, once you got in his shop the place was empty, you assumed he closed the store for you, he greeted you with a cocky smirk,

"What's up Mamacita, haven't seen you in awile" he smiled with his eyes close, he's so cute yet, so hot.

You also greeted him with a cheeky smirk, and without hesitation you leaned to his ear. "I want a pussy tattoo.", he paused for a second and leaned much closer to you,

"Then what design are you up too, Mama?" He whispered,

"Freestyle on me, Choso" you said backing away slightly.

"Sure, mama, good thing i've got a few designs for 'ya." he proudly smiled, "c'mon, lay here like a princess" he added signaling you to sit on the leather chair

"Such a gentleman, are we Choso?" you snickered as you laid on the chair, you wore a skirt for an easy access since you were going to get a pussy tattoo after all. Choso already prepared everything he needs. You spread your legs open, revealing your purple panties,

"Purple?, my fave. Are you going to remove it by yourself or-" you shut him off by placing his hands to the hem of your panties, "O-oh! ok, mama" he said as he removed your panties, shoving it in his pocket, he stares at your slit for a couple of seconds,

"Do you like what you see?" you asked, as you waved your hand in front of his face.

"And what if i did hm?" he uttered, that caught you off guard, you weren't expecting him to flirt back, you smirked,

"C'mon then, try me Choso" adding more flame to the fire, your core was getting really exposed to the air, you can feel heat building up on your lower abdomen- your pussy unconsciously leaking just from the dirty talk between you, and, Choso.

"Dang, getting wet already? you're no fun mama" he growls

putting his printed stencil out, you jolted a little because of the sudden contact, his hands were big, and heavy, he placed it right on top of your clit, purposely rubbing his hand against your exposed clit, you squirmed under his touch.

he lets the stencil dry out for a moment and plugged his tattoo machine, he designed a very beautiful roses and torns, from your hips to your pussy, he then started to etch his machine on your skin, it hurted, but Choso was making his way up to you clit, purposely rubbing it, he just can't resist anymore, you squirmed under him, it was pure torture.

"Keep still mama, spread 'em wide for me will you?" He chuckled deviously, while gliding his machine to your body he roams his left hand on you pussy, going up and down to your clit and teasing your entrance, you were lost, your cunt spasming and clenching around air,

"-ah, Choso..! please" you finally broke your pride,

"hmm?" he's being cocky, he knows what you want, but seeing you beg? that's a whole different level, "Please..!"

your voice and legs was shaking, "oh, you mean this?"

he inserted his finger with leather gloves in your core,

"Ah! yes, yes Cho.." you moaned

"Keep still mama, im still giving you a tattoo" he laughed, while he glides his machine, he pushes his fingers in and out painfully slow, teasing you on purpose, he moves his hand on your clit playing with it like it's some sort of stress ball, he used his thumb to stimulate your body causing you to buck your hips and squirm once again, he turned of his machine since you were squirming all over the place, you grinded you his fingers uncontrollably chasing your high you were a mess, a mess for his touch, his finger still pleasuring your clit, he bends down to your pussy as he pulls you closer to his mouth "Gonna eat you s'good" he says under his breath as he latched his tongue in your pussy, his wet tongue moved in a normal speed slurping all of your pussy juices, spitting on it like an animal, eating your vagina like it was ugly.

An animal.

Brain already blank, just you and the pleasure he's giving you.

he pause, "So fucking good for me mama?" he said his voice a bit hoarse, he detached his mouth from your folds, a string of saliva connecting his mouth and your pussy.

"Choso, i was sooo close~!" you whined,

"Patients, be patient mama." he shushs you up "besides, the tattoo's still not done." he added, he plugged his machine again, but this time, he inserted his dick in your cunt, causing your tummy to show a lil bulge, his dick was kissing your cervix almost passing through your womb, you bit your knuckles in satisfaction it nearly turned white.

He then again, glides his tattoo machine over your skin you squirmed uncontrollably, "Keep still mama.." he says, his voice was low and a bit raspy, with that it sent shivers to your core, "Chosoo~nnn" you moaned, his dick still inside you, laying on your cervix, causing you to clench and palpitate around his dick, he hissed, "fuck..", as he continues finishing the tatto, but you just can't control your pussy spasming around him, it makes him go crazy.

"Fuck mama, think we gotta' overtime" he placed his tatto machine on the table as he threw your right leg on his broad shoulder and bucked his hips back and forth, it was so deep, your pussy remembers his dick shape, every curve and bulge, your pussy juice and his pre cum flowing down to your ass crack, it was heaven, his shop was filled with skin slapping, moans and groans, and his sweet litte praises on how you take his dick sooo goooodd!

He placed your leg down and turned you around.

"Bend over for me will ya'?" he says, which you complied fastly, you bent over for him, on the leather chair, he bends over to your pussy as he spreads it, slurping every drip and juice in it, dehydrating it, you moaned once again, after that he inserts his dick in, "Bend good for me mama." he muttered, his clearly lost and is chasing his high, you nodded in response as you popped your ass for him, for him to reach sooo deep in you.

Moans kept escaping your mouth, one after another,

"You like it when i fuck you this good mama?"

"Ahh-oh yea, yesss oh my god choso!" you squirmed buvking your hips back and forth, but he stops thrusting,

"shom me how you love my dick mama, i bet you we're dreaming on fucking me for months now, haven't you hm?" he says, with a hint of cockiness on his tone.

you whined, as you grind on his dick desperately, with every grind you make it makes his dick throb even more, you were grinding on him for a minute now, but you can feel him, twitching, he was close, so he starts thrusting again.

"so desperate for this cock mhm?"

"oh mhmmmm, Please! fuck me good!" you screamed

he pounded his dick in, you were close and he was too, you clenched your pussy on purpose as you release your high, and soon Choso followed, you catch deep breaths, as you look in his eyes, "well that was a good fuck" you chuckled, as you look on your pussy, it was already tattooed, a rose designed succubus tatto "oh look, it's cute" you say in awe

"Well it's desinged by me after all" he laughed as he pulls his dick out off you, your pussy was completely creampied. you pulled off tissues from the tissue box, you wipe your pussy, as Choso helps you and fixed your skirt, but somethings missing, oh right...

"C-choso..my panties?" you asked

"Oh, your panties?, Keeping them as souvenirs mama, y'know so i can jack on it later" he winks.

a/n: I was sleeping but my mom woke me up, and after that my whole day was ruined. Anyways please, please dm for request please dont be shyyyy!!

#choso #jjk smut #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso smut

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kooksbunnnn · 1 year

Text

It's a long night - PJM and KNJ

Pairing: Ceo!Namjoon X female Reader X Ceo!Jimin

Word count: 2.3k words

Warnings: SMUT. threesome. Dom jimin. Switch Namjoon. Sub reader. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Slight orgasm delay. Unprotected Penetrative sex (don't please?). Jimin is a menace. Namjoon cries (it's purely out of pleasure, guys). MATURE. 18+

masterlist

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The moment you entered the hotel suite with heels clacking and stumbling feet, you were instantly sandwiched between a wall and the bigger, taller male that so deviously wanted to devour you. Meanhile jimin snickers over how Namjoon desperately pants in your mouth, locking the door on his way inside.

No matter how sober you are, you feel the lust rush up to your head making your mind fuzzy. While you grab his collar with one hand and his neck with the other, he pulls down the straps of your dress and hikes up your skirt, squeezing whatever flesh he could grab.

You feel his fingers snake their way from your thighs to your head, making the satin material bunch up at your hips. He pulls your hair occasionally, making you moan in his mouth. You feel his head being pulled at and you open your eyes to see Jimin holding his hair and pulling his head back. Whispering something in his ears, he makes eye contact with you as he bites Joon’s earlobe making you both moan.

Jimin has been teasing you since the evening, the small but wet kisses and the intense stares. He came into your dressing room while you were almost ready, bent you in front of a mirror, and rubbed you as you helplessly begged him to get his fingers inside.

Worst part? He didn't make you cum.

Since then, every touch of his was making you go mental, him grabbing your inner thighs with his thick fingers under the table. So close but so far.

He made you weak in the knees, almost made you ready to suck him off in the car but he was just testing your patience. He was all dressed up in his black $6000 suit and yet you wanted to just get him out of it.

Also, Namjoon being there in his all-black outfit didn't do you very well. Especially when he took off his blazer and covered you up with it because your wrap-on was not enough to keep the chills away.

He didn't realize but you kept on staring at how his muscles bulged at every movement of his chest and arms and oh! how badly you wanted him to throw you around and fuck you stupid.

For the outside world, you were a beautiful woman, traveling the world for photography projects and trying new cuisines and cultures. Always seen together with your two male companions. Some even think you might be dating one of them and the other is a mutual friend. But nobody knows that you equally loved and cherished two of the most popular business entities in Seoul, Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin, and vice versa

You were nervous and fidgety at the start of the relationship, you didn't even know if you should've called the three of you that? thinking about the what ifs and what would happen if someone found out? Also, internally fighting your thoughts about how this would work, emotionally.

Namjoon assured you that this would remain a secret, and nothing would be against your consent, you could end this anytime you want, also stating, they would love you so much you wouldn't want to leave.

And he was right, you don't ever want to. You love them both, they love you equally and they can fuck you like no one ever has and nobody ever would be able to. They know their way around your body, what makes your eyes roll, what makes you gasp, and how to make your toes curl. Just like this night.

Stumbling inside the suite, Namjoon picked you up by your thighs after Jimin undressed you, leaving you only in your panties. You reach the edge of the bed making out with Joon while Jimin's body warmth leaves from around you.

Laying you down on the bed, namjoon trails his lips down your neck to your nipples. Trying to find Jimin you reach your hand out absentmindedly, calling his name desperately. The mattress dips next to you and you see him sitting next to you with his shirt open as he sipped wine from his glass, smiling.

This man is gonna be your death.

"Jimin" you whine when namjoon reaches your inner thighs, kissing, licking, biting, making you clutch the sheets with one hand and your boob with the other.

"Yes baby, I'm right here" he coos, flicking away a strand of hair that's sticking to your forehead. You whine, trembling in Namjoon's hold as he mouths at your clothed pussy.

"Please joonie fuck-" you hear both of them chuckle at your impatience. Turning your head sideways you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Poor baby, do you wanna cum?" Jimin asks, smirk audible in his voice.

"Y-yes fuck-" You cry out.

"Should we make her cum hyung?" Jimin coos at you, grazing his knuckles on your cheeks so gently it makes you mewl.

Namjoon lifts his head with a smile and looks at Jimin, "I don't know, should we?" He says that in his throaty voice which makes you clench around nothing. You whine, shaking and throbbing while they look at you with their dark and lust-filled gazes.

Chuckling at your twitchy body, Namjoon removes your laced panty. Dipping his thumb in your hole he places his now-slicked thumb on your clothed clit and starts drawing short circles making you shut your legs at the sudden stimulation.

Namjoon forces your legs open with a growl, "Don't. Hide." You almost fold in half when he doesn't waste time and attaches his mouth to your cunt. Sucking at your bud and creating a torturous pattern, you see stars.

Your back arches and you whine, clutching onto Jimin's arm for dear life. Jimin breathes heavily through his nose as he watches the scene with a hand rubbing his hard-on. Namjoon eats you up like he was starving. You feel your legs closing but the man between your legs prevents you from doing that.

"Fuck yes! Yes!" You lift your hips trying to rut in his face but namjoon stops you by placing his hand on your abdomen.

You come in his mouth as he laps at your slick, nails digging in Jimin's forearms as you hear him curse under his breath. When you settle down from your high, you notice how heavy all of your breaths are. Namjoon kisses your inner thighs trying to soothe your burning skin.

"Hyung, hold her open for me." Jimin suddenly says with a dark stare, tongue licking his full bottom lips. He watches hungrily how namjoon kisses your cunt as it oozed slick, before leaning away at his command. Jimin gets up, eyes locked on your cunt, and shivers travel up your spine.

He might be smaller than Namjoon but he had all the control over you and the bigger male. Both, you and him wouldn't want to displease Jimin.

Namjoon instantly gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you up against his chest easily. Your head falls against his shoulder, chest heaving, hair messed up, makeup smudged. Perfectly fucked out, they think.

You watch Jimin get on his knees in front of you still looking at your exposed center, as namjoon lifts your knees up to your chest. Holding your knees above his elbows, opening you wide, folding you in half.

"Fuck baby, you're soaking," Jimin whispers, more like whispering to himself.

He rubs your slit with his fingers making nasty squelching sounds and your face heats up in embarrassment. You notice with hooded eyes how both men are almost fully clothed, Jimin with his shirt unbuttoned, while namjoon is still dressed.

You inhale sharply through your teeth when Jimin parts your folds with his fingers and rubs directly at your clit with his middle finger, making you gasp. Glancing at you for a second he spits on your pussy and watches it drip down so that he can rub it with his finger.

Namjoon groans in your ear at the way you react to Jimin's fingers, while the said person just stares at your pussy. Staring at the way your thighs shake and your cunt leaks. Leaning in he looks up from behind his black locks, he smirks before entering his tongue in your hole.

You're close, you know it, your legs try to close at the overstimulation but namjoon parts them more, giving jimin more space to burry his face inside. The tongue entering you and swirling around was making you dizzy. You clutched at namjoons hair, kissing him hard.

Your eyes tear up at the slow ministrations of his mouth, and you already feel the orgasm building up in your stomach, but it's so slow you might lose your mind.

"Jimin, fuck please." You beg him against Namjoon's mouth, teeth clashing. He could taste the tears that were flowing out of your eyes as you kissed him with everything you had.

"You wanna cum baby?" Jimin coos.

"Y-yes-"

"Make her cum Jimin ah, please," Namjoon begs, out of breath as he watches you with a dizzy expression. Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. He trails his hand to Namjoons inner thigh. He squeezes the clothed flesh, making his breath hitch.

When you first met Jimin you immediately noticed how he always made people shy and flustered around him. He has this effect on people that they might end up on their knees if he told them to.

Namjoon was one of those people, too.

Jimin squeezed his thigh and never has namjoon hated anything more than the trousers he is wearing right now.

"Make her cum yourself, then."

He gets up, leaving both of you confused, but before you can comprehend anything, Namjoon doesn't think much and acts fast. Lifting you up slightly he lets his cock free, he groans in pleasure at the slightest friction.

You both moan lewdly when he enters you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. You could feel him rearranging you from the inside, hitting all the deep spots. Jimin sits across you, watching with his dick in his hand, slowly stroking, focusing on you.

You bounce on Namjoon's cock absentmindedly, mumbling nonsense as you near your climax. You both groan and grunt in pleasure. You can feel it, and so does Namjoon. Jimin notices how close you are, and how close namjoon is to his climax.

He smirks.

"Do not cum, hyung."

Fucking hell.

"Oh please no-" Namjoon babbles.

"I. Said. Dont."

"No no no, please n-no" his voice cracks.

"Jimin I-I am gonna-" you cry out.

"Go on baby cum for me." Jimin smiles, stroking his cock faster, totally enjoying the way namjoon loses his mind. The squelches of Jimin jerking his cock off hurriedly, moaning and breathing so heavily makes you tip off the edge

"F-fuck no-" Namjoon tears up when he feels your orgasm for a moment before he lifts your body urgently as he falls backward on the bed. He fists the bottom of his dick as you rub yourself to release everything, gaining support with one of your hands on his knee. Jimin squirts his cum simultaneously all over his hand, growling deeply and darkly as he watches you shaking and gasping out in pleasure, almost tipping off the bed.

Walking up to you, Jimin leans down and kisses you while helping you get off Namjoons tortured dick. Laying you on the bed, he kisses you on your forehead. He pushes himself up and walks towards the older man down on the bed. His body is sweaty, and his dick is in his hand, eyes squeezed shut.

Cooing at Namjoons red face and purple dick, he lies beside him. He props himself on his elbow, with his body sideways, and faces the older male.

"Don't ever tell me what to do next time, yeah, hyung?" Jimin says softly while he grabs his jaw firmly, holding eye contact with the breathy man.

"You are evil," Namjoon says with a clenched jaw, his eyes teary and face red with frustration. "I know, hyungie, but only I can make you come, yeah? Only I can let you come." Jimin chuckles, releasing him from his hold.

"Let me cum.." he breathes out a whine, eyes squeezed and chest heaving.

You watch everything tiredly, not able to move your body as a tear falls from Namjoon's eye. Kissing the corner of Namjoon's lips, he holds his dick making him whine, and you feel your breath hitch at the scene unfolding in front of you.

You watch as Jimin strokes Joon's dick slowly, both men groaning as the older one shakes in pleasure and pain. You know your body is all spent up but you can feel your clit throbbing at the sounds both the men make.

"Please, jimin, please!"

'Make him cum please', its like a mantra is going on in your head, but you still wanna see how this goes so you keep your mouth shut. Because you know how bomb those held off orgasms feel like.

"Cum, hyung." He whispers and you, although thoroughly spent, groan as the bigger male reaches his high. Jimin bites Namjoon's earlobe, increasing the pace of his strokes.

He cries out, and you think you also heard him sob in relief. Pulling Jimin in a rushed kiss, cumming all over his hand. You watch them make out, breathy, sweaty, and nastily noisy as Jimin milks his cock dry. Smiling in the kiss, he keeps on pecking Joon's plump lips as he just exhales heavy breaths, trying to gain his senses back.

They part from each other with dizzy eyes. "Fuck." You sigh out grabbing both their attentions as they look at you at the same time. "I knowwww" Joon drags the word whining in his throaty voice, "Fuck." he sighs smiling with droopy eyes as his head falls tiredly on the mattress under him, as Jimin gets up chuckling.

"I'll bring you both some water."

You try getting up and reaching for your underwear that almost got torn apart when Jimin interrupts by clearing his throat. He has one of his eyebrows raised and you pause.

"I am not done with you both yet, rest. It's a very long night." Saying that he leaves, and you lock your eyes with Namjoon. You don't say anything, but you both see the realization on each other's faces.

"We're all gonna be so sore tomorrow," Namjoon says chuckling and you smile at the padding footsteps just outside the room.

oh, It's gonna be a long night.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Drawn Together 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You admire the tattoo through the plastic film. It’s so vibrant and red. The outline is beautiful and precise. You worried it would be less than with all your fidgeting but the hours of sitting paid off wonderfully.

You set your feet flat as Sam tosses his gloves and gathers up his tools. You fix the flat pleats of your straight cut skirt and smooth your white blouse. Plain and simple and neat. Just how everything in your life is. Well, except your tattoo.

You’re almost giddy. You feel so… edgy. You know you’re not but you’re going to enjoy the idea.

Your excitement is short lived as a heat settles over you. Like a shell you can’t see. You latch onto your wrist, holding your arms in front of you meekly as you peek across the shop. That man, Steve, he’s watching you again. You’re not sure he ever stopped as you kept your eyes on your round-toed flats for most of the time.

He smiles. The expression deepens the lines in his face and adds definition to his bearded jaw. His blue eyes sparkle deviously as you shy away. That’s the kind of boy, well, man, your mother would warn you about. Fifteen years ago and today.

You follow Sam to the counter and stir out your wallet from your black purse. You count out the rest of the fee in cash and hand it over. He explains the after care as he checks your count.

“Once you see blood under that film, you should take it off. Don’t keep it on longer than six hours. Don’t wrap it after and try to wear light clothing.”

“First ink?” The man interrupts, causing you to visibly flinch. Sam looks over your head and you hesitate to answer.

“Um, yes,” you turn your head only slightly and raise your voice so he can hear over the buzz.

“Can’t see it from here. What is it?”

“Steve, mind your business,” Sam retorts as he closes the till, “sorry about that. He’s always been too nosy for his own good.”

“You don’t gotta apologise for me,” Steve calls back, “I’m curious, is all. Sweetheart, if I disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you bend your ankle nervously and try to muster a smile at Sam, “thanks, I really like it. I love it. The colour is so good.”

“Appreciate it. As long as you're happy, I’m happy,” he grins, “here, take this.” He takes out a small booklet, “it’s everything you need to know about aftercare. Keep it clean, don’t touch it.”

“Oh, great,” you accept it, “that’s wonderful.” You tuck it into your purse, “thanks again. I’ll, er, I’ll go.”

“Have a good day,” Sam responds smoothly, a much needs balance for your awkwardness.

You turn and head for the door. You hear a low growl and peer back as you push through. Nat lifts her gun and punches Steve’s arm as he leans to keep an eye on you.

“Would you sit fucking still?” She hisses as he snickers in amusement.

You escape his gaze and the shop swiftly. That went a lot better than you thought. You only wish he hadn’t been there. Watching. A scary man like him, tattoos and all.

Well, you’ll never have another reason to go back to the shop or see that man. You had your dose of rebellion.

🎹

You resist the urge to scratch your ankle. You have discipline. An overbearing degree of discipline. Hammered so deep that you’re left hewn in rigid stone.

The rules. You’ve always been good at following those. It’s the one talent you have.

Aside from the piano.

You set up for the day, your ritual the same as every other. You change the water in the vase and place the long stems inside. The lilies are starting to wilt but they look good enough. You put them on the window sill, a soft breeze flowing in and fluttering the curtains.

You quickly brush a feather duster around the apartment, searching for any spec of dust. You’re gentle at the piano, the old boxy instrument is finely tuned despite its worn varnish. The bench is in a better state as you recently had it reupholstered.

You kick the corner of the carpet down as it folded over with an errant step and you pause to check out the tattoo. It’s so cool. Or cool to you. It’s probably lame to everyone else.

You imagine the rolling eyes and low whispers. Not really the tattoo type…

The boring type. That’s what you are. You live in your corner of the world and you keep to it. You don’t impinge, you don’t intrude, you are a very mindful person. Of others as much as yourself.

You fold the dusters and hang it in the closet from the hook on the inside of the door. You shut it, the hinges squeaking slightly. The walkup was inherited along with the piano. Both belonged to your grandfather. The same man who taught you how to play.

You breathe out as you run your fingertips along the belt of your dress. Some would say it’s out of style, you say it’s vintage. Nothing too flashy. Forest green with cap sleeves.

It’s always a bit nerve wracking to take on a new student. Amanda moved away and so the vacancy needs to be filled. You keep to a particular capacity. Both to maintain your sanity and your finances. Too many and you won’t be an effective teacher, too few and you won’t be able to afford the keys to practice.

It’s not too difficult. Usually their parents walk them in, talk a little bit, and go. Some of them stay after a few lessons to hear their children’s progress. You offer them tea if they do and some shortbread cookies; your grandmother’s secret recipe.

You pace as you check your watch, a slender golden chain attached to an oval face. You tap the glass with your fingernail and sigh. Two minutes.

You twirl and repeat your steps across the rug, just across the top of the stairs. You pull down your lip anxiously but correct the impatient habit quickly. Don’t fidget so much. Stop picking at yourself. Your mother’s voice lives in your head.

You circle around and straighten the framed embroidery above the antique side table. You lean back on your heel and consider it. Still a bit off. You work at getting it perfect, your obsession pierced by the doorbell.

You recoil and go to the top of the stairs. You look down and see a silhouette on the other side of the half-moon pane set into the thick walnut door. You glide your hand down the banister as you descend and steady yourself at the bottom.

You set your shoulders and smile. You’ve done this so many times before. Why are you so unsure? When have you ever been sure? Oh gosh, what if they see your tattoo? What if they think you’re trouble?

You grasp the curled handle and twist it. You pull the door open and your cheek twitches in surprise as you face the unexpectedly familiar face. You blink long and hard. You don’t believe it. It can’t be him. You must be dreaming. That must be why this whole day has felt so surreal.

“Hi,” Steve’s deep tone washes over you like a tide.

“Um, hello,” you look to the right, then the left, then at him. He’s alone. It’s just him. Why is he here?

You can’t be mistaken. You see the tattoos peeking out at the ends of his jacket sleeves along his knuckles. His newest addition shows through the white fabric of his plain cotton tee. It’s definitely the same man. How could you forget those eyes?

“I’m here for piano lessons? This is the right unit, right?”

“Piano? I– yeah, I teach but, er…” you reach to rub your neck and his gaze follows the gesture before returning to your face. He watches you intently, just like at the shop. “I usually teach–”

“Beginners,” he smirks, “yeah, I know I’m a bit old but I always wanted to learn.”

“Well, of course, um, anyone can learn but I…” you try not to show your confusion.

It’s not his age. You’ve taught adults before. No, it’s that he’s even there. This can’t be a coincidence, can it? Or maybe he doesn’t even remember you.

“So, you healing up?”

“What?”

“The tattoo.”

“Oh, uh,” you look down at your feet, “sure. It’s… alright.”

“I’m dying to scratch mine,” he chuckles, “which is why I need something to keep my hands busy.”

“Yes, I mean, okay,” you grip the door tightly.

“All cards on the table, I heard you in the shop say you taught piano,” he confesses, “I looked you up. I’m sorry. I hope that’s not weird.”

You let out a long breath. It is weird but he is being honest. He doesn’t seem like he’s up to anything. And anyone can get a tattoo, even you. So maybe he isn’t too bad. And maybe you need the cheque.

“You’re late,” you say, “usually I ask my students to be ten minutes early.”

“Got it,” he nods, “promise, it won’t happen again.”

“Put your shoes on the mat,” you back up and open the door, “since we’re already behind, I won’t have time for the tea.”

“Maybe next time,” he breaks the threshold as he peers around at the entryway, “nice place.”

“It is,” you say, “the piano is upstairs.”

You spin on your heel and scurry up the steps. You cling to the railing to keep yourself on your feet. Now that he’s inside, you’re even less sure about this.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #au #drawn together #tattoo au #marvel #mcu #captain america #natasha romanov #sam wilson

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