#hmm now to ponder what to do next
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tfw you have to call your girlfriend's house to talk to her girlfriend (who is also your boyfriends girlfriend) so you can get your boyfriend released from jail...
(click for better quality PLEASE I beg you)
under the tab are other versions of the drawing so click if you wanna see him with no shirt on .....wait what who said that.....
yall i don't even know how to explain this one i was possessed and controlled by the urge to draw stu macher all pretty and posed like this,,,, so i like when men are pretty SUE ME
credits to @atitanbitch for the idea to include Sid and Tatum in the little bubble and @powderedbleach for reminding me about THE ROBEEEE OH and ofc @harleykeenervarient for sending me the photo reference I used in the first place yall rock <3
included below are alternate versions of this drawing that I was having some fun with mwuahaha that includes no shirt, no shirt plus some ~shweed~ and also ofc trans version bc cmon
alright thats all for now.... thats my cue to slink back into the void until I return with another art drop BYEEEEEE
#stu macher#scream 1996#scream#billy loomis#tagging him bc why not#stuilly#scream fanart#billy x stu#stu x billy#tatum riley#sidney prescott#debaser#debaserverse#debaser fanfic#tagging debaser bc he got the ~scars~#iykyk#my art#if you recognize which photo I used for a reference#shakes ur hand#hmm now to ponder what to do next#maybe....#matching billy with a phone pose?#we shall see#ok done yapping
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i’ll tell you in the morning
tasm!peter x reader
summary:
“you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
warnings: overly considerate peter, scheming reader, fluff and stuff
*
“you’re supposed to be in bed.”
his voice rolls, like a click on a cassette, and you know that peter is not really there.
because it’s all a little blurry. his voice, the door opening, the feeling when he kneels down next to you, his breath hot in your ear.
it’s all some remanent of a dream. a brief moment where you might wake up, but decide not to.
“i’m serious,” his voice ebbs and flows, waving in and out, like your consciousness. “you know i don’t like it when you wait up for me.”
you groan and roll even further into the couch. your face is smushed, and your hair is a mess, sweaty because you’re drowning under every blanket in the house. it smells like cotton, and peter’s deodorant, and potato chips that you probably dropped through the cushions.
you dig your nose in deeper, trying to get back to that dream.
peters probably not actually there, you think, because if he was he would’ve kissed you awake. his hand would be lazily running through your hair, and his body would be pressed against yours. you would be cuddling by now.
real peter is much nicer than dream peter, who shakes your shoulder, albeit massaging you right afterward. “c’mon, bug, we’re going to bed.”
“sleeping,” you mumble, pulling away from him.
dream peter continues to try and wake you up, while you wonder—amidst the dream, no doubt—when real peter will be home. you want to be drowning in his collarbone instead of your own sweat.
there’s a kiss next to your ear. “you’re going to fall through the couch.”
“the couch would never betray me.”
“we’ll see if you’re saying that in the morning, when your neck is bent the wrong way,” he whispers, and rests his head against yours. you feel it as he breathes out, relaxes. almost like he’s purring into your ear.
so you keen into him, a bit awkwardly, considering that it’s his forehead. “why’d you wake me up?”
“you can’t sleep here.”
“c’mere,” you murmur to him, your hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingertips just brushing his hair. “cuddle with me.”
“being cute isn’t going to stop me from moving you.”
“peter,” you try and push him away, “go to bed.”
“why are you out here?” his nose trails down your hair, to your neck. “it’s almost four in the morning.”
you ponder this, and decide that you don’t really remember what you were doing before you fell asleep here, with your hand shoved in the crook of your neck. “the beds cold,” you slur, head falling back into the cushions as you doze.
“that’s because all of the blankets are out here. why didn’t you turn the heat up?”
he’s playing with some baby hair by your ear now, trying to lull you to sleep, probably, because he loves you.
“i was waiting for you,” you whisper this like a prayer, “and now you’re here.”
“you waited in the wrong spot. i would’ve come to bed with you. there’s no room for me here,” he smiles when you finally turn your head towards him. he’s got a smudge on his nose, and his eyes are sunken in—aged from exhaustion.
“i know.”
you’re both whispering. trying not to wake that drowsy, lovesick part of yourself right now.
“hmm?” he leans into you, nose brushing your cheek. almost like he’s breathing you in. “what, bug?”
“i wanted to fall asleep with you.”
then his eyes are wide open, and he leans back, brows furrowed in a tight line. “i told you i was going out.”
you muse at his confused face, and lean back towards him. “i know. i didn’t know when you’d be home.”
“you could’ve called.”
“i’m not going to interrupt your repertoire with a burglar at midnight. it’s rude.”
“not to me.”
you tsk, and lean away, back into the pillow comforting you while simultaneously scheming to ruin your morning.
“you need more sleep than i do,” peter adds, trying to keep you awake with his sheer willpower, his hands squirm under your shoulders. “we’ve talked about this.”
“no, you threatened to tell my mom—“
“that’s not what i said,” peter interrupts, groaning into the sofa.
“that i wasn’t getting enough sleep. and i said that you could make your own decisions, but that i wasn’t going to stop waiting up for you.”
“it makes me feel bad,” he ignores your gentle protesting. “i don’t want to keep you up.”
“peter, it’s not like you’re out dancing with strippers.”
he laughs, unexpectedly. and you grin back at him, with a sheer conviction undiluted by any hints of remaining sleep.
“you’re up helping people. i don’t mind waiting for you,” you emphasize this by leaning in to kiss his forehead, tasting sweat and not minding at all.
“you’re going to be tired tomorrow. when did you fall asleep?”
you acknowledge your win for what it is, and sit up on the couch, looking around your apartment like you can’t remember where you are. “probably an hour ago. i didn’t know when you’d be home, and i waited a while, but then i moved to the couch so you’d have to wake me up if i fell asleep.”
“so this was an elaborate scheme, huh?” peter laughs at you as his teeth graze your cheek. his chaste kiss makes you warm.
“i learned from the best.”
peter chuckles against you, and the two of you sit like that for a moment. calculating each others breathing like there’s something you might miss, however brief.
and then you smile at him, and he smiles back. “bed?” he asks you, softly, fingertip running against the skin of your jaw. you nod.
his arms wrap around you as he picks you up, your head rested comfortably on his shoulder, legs wrapped around his waist.
“i’m leaving you on the couch next time,” he threatens as he walks, “just so you know.”
“then we’ll both wake up with sore backs. not just you.”
peter snorts. “i didn’t say i would be there.”
“like you can sleep without me.”
he doesn’t say anything to that, but you feel him murmur in your hair suspiciously.
peter sets you down on the bed softly, pushing your legs so you’ll lay down, then covering you with the comforter. he tucks you in like any average middle aged dad.
when you grin he nods, very satisfied with himself.
“i’m just gonna change,” he says, taking a step back.
“hurry. i’m tired.”
“now, look who’s talking,” he shakes his head, but moves swiftly to the bathroom. you hear it as he runs the sink, as he bangs his foot on something and curses, and when he pads back into the bedroom, looking like a young child sneaking out of bed in his pajamas.
you laugh. “where did you get those?”
peter looks down to himself. to the many cartoon styled spider-man’s dancing across his cotton pajama set. “what? this old thing.”
“i don’t think i can be seen in public with you if you’re wearing that.”
“we are in the privacy of our bedroom,” he points out.
“i don’t think i can be in the same room with you if you’re wearing that.”
peter shakes his head, pouting like he’s disappointed, but he slips the shirt off, a concession he’s apparently willing to make.
though you don’t doubt that there are ulterior motives to this move.
“c’mon,” you whine to him, “i’m cold.”
“you’re so needy.”
you roll your eyes, but sink into him as he shuffles from beside you, laying his head near yours. “you’re not coddling me.”
“i’m so very sorry, my dear,” he whispers, and wraps his arms around you.
“shh,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, and murmur against his hot skin. “i want to go back to the dream i was having.”
peter must be laughing at you, you can tell, even slightly asleep, because something jostles you.
“what was it about?”
you smile against him, listening to his heart like a hymn you’re devoted to. “i’ll tell you in the morning.”
he whispers something, brief, a whisper in the quiet of the room. but you feel the words as he settles into the bed, his calloused hands running over your skin.
and you fall asleep; hands clutching the others heart.
*
#tasm peter x reader#andrew!spiderman#the amazing spider-man#peter parker#peter parker x reader#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#spider-man#the amazing spider man#tasm#tasmania#tasm 2#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm spiderman#tasm!peter imagine#tasm fanfiction#tasm!peter fluff#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter parker#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter smut#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!spiderman x you#andrew garfield#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter x reader#andrew!peter imagine#marvel fanfic#marvel
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Intoxicated - Gojo Satoru
tags: fluff, established relationship, drunk!satoru, mentions of alcohol
wc: 534
Synopsis: What do you get when you give the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alcohol? a drunk needy boyfriend.
a/n: I hope you enjoy!!
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In all the years you’ve known Satoru Gojo, he’s never gotten drunk in front of you. So when celebrating his birthday with your friends, you noticed him stumbling his way across the room. It was clear that he was drunk.
While you try to go back to your conversation with Shoko, the sudden loud plop of Gojo sitting down next to you immediately shifts your focus. You look over to see Gojo hunched over with his head resting on the table, looking up at you with a dopey grin on his face.
“You know you’re the most beautiful person in the world,” he slurs.
While laughing, you run your hand down his back.
“Oh, am I? well I think you’re the most drunk man in the world. How much did you have to drink?”
“Hmm I dont know either four or ten.” He hums, closing his eyes to enjoy feeling your hand on his back.
His response makes your jaw drop. “Ten!?”
He shot up to look at you with wide eyes.
“Are you mad at me?” He said with tears pooling in his eyes.
You turn to Shoko with widened eyes. This was out of character for Satoru. She looks back at you with raised eyebrows as she takes a sip of her drink, turning away from you, leaving you to deal with the drunken mess that is your boyfriend alone.
You grab your hands and look at him worriedly. “No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because I had too much to drink and now you hate me and never wat to see me again,” he rambled on, sniffing in between a few words.
If it was possible for you to unhinge your jaw to emote how absolutely shocked you were, you would do it. But it’s not so you just stick with trying to calm your now very emotional boyfriend.
You take your hands from his to smooth down his hair, hoping to calm him at least a little.
“Satoru, that is not true,” you said. “I love you, and it’s your birthday. I think you're allowed to have some fun.”
“Really? you still love me?”
“Yes Satoru, I still love you,”
“Really really?”
“Really really,” you laugh
“Really, really, really?”
“Ok, I’m not doing this with you all night. How about we go back home and rest?” you breathed.
He pondered your suggestion for a few seconds before smiling.
“We can cuddle, right?” he said excitedly
“Yes, we can absolutely cuddle. anything you want, it’s your birthday after all.”
It takes some effort to help him stand up from his seat. He leans on you almost immediately and walks towards the exit. You throw Shoko a quick wave goodbye so you could keep up with Satorus’ fast steps.
He fell asleep on the cab ride home, so getting him inside took longer since he was still half asleep and stumbling.
You saved yourself the trouble of changing him and just lay him on the bed. You followed shortly after him. Like magnets, you two gravitated toward each other and fell asleep with Satoru cuddled in your arms.
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Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! I'd love to know what you thoughts!
#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru one shot#gojo satoru x you#gojo fluff#jjk oneshot#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic
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boyfriend quiz ᰔ gojo satoru
contents: tooth-rotting fluff. fem!reader. established relationship. mentions of sweets. making gojo think every question he answers is wrong on a quiz you made up.
“Baby, let’s take a little couple’s quiz together, hm?”
Satoru had just stepped into your shared bedroom after a hot shower. The ends of his hair still damp from towel drying and his cheeks just a tickled pink from the steam as he takes long strides toward you, crawling into bed and stealing some of your warmth from under the covers.
“Hmm, why do I have a bad feeling about this~?” There’s a boyish smile on his face as he holds you close and nuzzles your neck softly, feeling like his head’s up in the clouds the moment he’s wrapped up in your scent. “But alright, I’m game! Let’s go, I’m ready. What’s the first question?”
The white tufts of your boyfriend’s hair delicately grazes your nose and you press a tender kiss to the top of his head. “So, imagine you’re at our favorite bakery, what do you buy?” You start with an innocent question, leading him to believe that there's no right or wrong answers but he suspects there's a trick up your sleeve.
“That’s a fun one! I’m at our favorite bakery, right~?” He ponders carefully for a moment. “Well, of course, I would want those delicious pastries, those yummy cakes, and those fresh breads! And while I’m there, I should grab a few of your favorites too!”
You almost forget just how incredibly thoughtful and caring Satoru can be. How you’re always on his mind and he spends a lot of time thinking about you no matter his whereabouts. You know this because it usually manifests in forms of gifts and trinkets—some sweet, some odd, some over the top, but they’re all very near and dear to your heart.
“Wrong.” You shake your head gently, forcing an exasperated sigh that tells him you’re disappointed and upset he managed to get the question wrong. But really, you’re just messing with him, making him think his answers are somehow incorrect in this one-sided game of yours. “You weren’t supposed to be there without me in the first place.”
“What do you mean, Angel~? Why can’t I be at the bakery without you? Even if I’m getting you something, too?” There’s a glimmer of confusion behind his cerulean hues, yet his earnest smile still remains and he’s a bit at loss for words but continues to indulge you.
“Next question—” Satoru quickly plops an affectionate kiss on your cheek before you continue, hoping to remedy your crestfallen face. “You have now left the bakery, what’s the next thing you do?”
“Easy. The next thing I do after leaving the bakery is be with my favorite girl, and share all the delicious things I got. I want to be with you, no one else.”
There he goes being so sweet again! He’s making this extremely hard for you not to openly swoon over him and smother his face with so many kisses, and he can see the way you’re biting the inside of your cheek trying to suppress your smile that he’s getting to you. But you shake your head again, “Wrong! You’re supposed to pick up the strawberries from the market like I had asked you to.”
“Oh my goodness, you’re right! I forgot all about the strawberry you wanted~” Satoru gasps loudly and runs a stressful hand through his hair. He then laughs and playfully rolls his eyes that he somehow answered wrong for the second time now. “Fine, I’ll go pick up the strawberries.”
You couldn’t help the quick kiss that lands on his cheek for being so utterly cute and adorable as you giggled along with him. “Okay, next question—a girl approaches you and she looks like she wants to hug you. What do you do?”
“Hm, who is she and why does she look like she wants to hug me?” He tilts his head to the side as he considers the situation. You feel like maybe, just maybe, he’s merely seconds away from getting a curveball thrown at him. Even though you know kind of partner he is, you’re quite curious as to what he’ll come up with.
“Well, what do you do~?” You gently urge him for an answer.
“It really depends, Angel. Are you the girl then?” His lips curl into a smirk, and he looks at you almost too knowingly like he could read your mind. But you know that even his Six Eyes can't do that.
You hate that he was able to figure it out so easily. He watches as your face lights up into your perfect and gorgeous smile, with your head falling onto his chest and face burrowing in defeat. All of his answers were simply too sweet and considerate with you in mind and you can feel your heart swell with so much love and adoration for him.
Your muffled words come up to reach his ears, “How’d you know to answer that I was there with you? You’re too smart for this. But yes, the girl is supposed to be me.”
“So you approached me, and you wanted to hug me, right~?” He strokes your hair softly and offers an amused chuckle. You slowly lift yourself off him to meet his soft gaze, nodding. “If you want a hug, you always get a hug, sweetheart.”
Satoru doesn’t need to be told twice to have his strong arms coil around your figure, locking you sweetly in his hold that makes you feel completely safe and secure in his warm embrace. Then, a lingering kiss to your forehead just before he releases you but you can feel the faintest waver in his loosening grip that he never wants to let you go.
“Okay, one last question?” Your weight dips on the mattress beside him, tucking yourself in the nook of his arm and resting your head on his chest. He hums contently when your body always seems to fit so perfectly with his as he brings you closer to him like he can’t get close enough. ”What are we doing next?”
“Well, we could go home, eat the baked goods and the strawberries. After that, maybe snuggle while watching a movie and take a long nap together. How’s that sound to you, baby?”
You briefly mull over his words, and you can’t remember the last time he truly took some time off and enjoyed himself without restraints. So you’re determined to plan a fun and romantic getaway because even your loving and goofy boyfriend deserves a much-needed break to experience the small joys and pleasures with you every now and again.
“That sounds like our perfect next date.”
#sobsobsobs#pretending I didn’t see anything the leaks weren't real mentally I am here with my most beloved safe in my arms and happy#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo fluff#gojo imagines#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk imagines#jjk x reader
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Everything happens for a reason part 4
Summary: Both of your national teammates find out your little secret, you both get a little scare and Alexia has some making up to do!
Warnings:⚠️ pregnancy?, mentions of miscarriage (doesn’t actually happen), angst
Masterlist (contains other parts)
~~~~~
You’d hung up the phone almost immediately after dropping the news onto Alexia in a fit of rage. She’d accused you of cheating for fucks sake who wouldn’t be angry. Your phone constantly lit up with notifications beside you, tears that had halted temporarily began flowing again. You were spiralling yet again, your breathing picked up but this time you managed to calm yourself down before you panicked, focusing on the baby and grounding yourself.
For once, you were quite thankful to have your own room in the hotel, it provided you the peace you needed right now. Flipping your phone over, you were met with several messages from your wife.
“Lo siento bebita, please talk to me”
“I’m an idiot I’m so sorry let me know you’re ok”
“I didn’t know amor answer me por favor”
Tear tracks stained your cheeks as you wandered out of your room, needing to clear your head. Now that your wife knew about the pregnancy, you were much less concerned with subtly (that much was clear in the way you wandered out of your room looking worse for wear). You trudged along and reached the elevator, pushing the button to take you to the hotel’s communal area.
Upon reaching it, you were met with the presence of several of your national team mates, strewn around in various places. Georgia and Leah were currently in an intense game of FIFA, Lucy and Millie were laughing at something on Lucy’s phone. Alessia was sat next to Ella and Mary on the large sofa.
As you took it all in, you met Alessia’s eyes and saw the look of pity they contained.
“ah look what the cat dragged in” jeered Mary loudly, catching the attention of your other teammates. “Wait are you alright lovey?” She asked worry clear in her tone.
“Yes sorry” you laughed wiping your eyes “just a little personal trouble” you offered
“hmm you’ve had an awful lot of that lately y/n are you sure you’re ok?” questioned Leah, trying to maintain a stern, captainly tone but failing miserable as her concern shined through the facade.
“Yes it’s just something to do with my relationship that’s all” you replied. It wasn’t a lie, especially not after the heated conversation you’d had with your wife who was still blowing up your phone with apologies and phone calls.
“Oh shit y/n I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be pushy” grimaced Leah
“It’s alright you’re captain it’s your job, plus it’s nice that you care” you answered
“Of course I care y/n we all do, you’ve been so down lately and we’ve not known what it was” she replied, a small smile gracing her lips.
“Yeah you literally turned down my secret chocolates the other day” bellowed Georgia
“What secret chocolates?” Asked Leah with a raised eyebrow
“Erm nothing” cowered Georgia
“Sorry guys I didn’t mean to make you worried it’s just…” you trailed off pondering to yourself. Telling them would run the risk of it getting out somehow, not that you didn’t trust your teammates but it was more that staff would over here and spread it to the wrong person. Although, if you swore them to secrecy what’s the worst that could happen? Rumours regularly circulated about you, specifically yours and Alexia’s relationship. Not long ago someone had started a crazy rumour that the two of you had gotten a divorce and that you were moving to Arsenal.
“Earth to y/n” said Leah as she waved a hand in your face.
“Sorry my mind wandered” you apologised
“It’s alright, what were you saying?” Leah asked, a curious expression on her face.
“I’m pregnant!” you blurted without a second thought.
“WHAT?!” Shouted Leah
“You’re pregnant???” added Lucy
“How does that even work?” Asked Ella with a puzzled look
“Yeah I’m pregnant it’s Alexia’s obviously and it’s ivf Ella that’s how that works” you stated bluntly.
“La Reina knocked you up chica” laughed Lucy, earning her a smack on the head from Leah.
“Congratulations y/n! Aren’t you happy?” Asked your captain
“Yes but it’s just causing a bit of an argument at the moment” you replied staring at the phone in your hand, thinking of your earlier phone call.
“Oh I’m sorry darling, but hey it’s something to celebrate with some good food!” Leah announced, signalling to the team that dinner was ready in the dining area.
——
You sat down at the long table amongst your teammates and staff members, Lucy having piled pasta onto your plate after seeing you put a small roll of plain bread and butter.
“You’re eating for two now chica, have to protect putellas’ precious cargo now don’t we” claimed Lucy which earned her a large sigh from you.
You were next to Keira and Leah at the table with Lucy and Mary sat opposite you. Bile had settled in your upper stomach and was threatening to enter your mouth if you attempted to eat anything more. Morning sickness had somehow become ‘every hour of the day sickness’. This realisation had you pushing the pasta around your plate aimlessly with a fork.
“you alright? you’ve barely touched your food” questioned Keira from beside you, alerting the attention of Leah.
“Yeah just feel a bit sick that’s all, the baby won’t let me keep anything down” you said with a half smile
“Try this” said Leah, offering you some plain pasta as a pose to your tomato covered portion. You accepted gratefully as she halved her portion and scraped it onto your plate.
Your stomach already settled at the lack of smell that the pasta possessed. Taking a bite you were nervous, eyes already scanning for the nearest bin.
“Better?” questioned the blonde
“Much better actually, thanks Leah” you smiled, your stomach having settled.
“You sure that the baby is Alexia’s and not Leah’s” joked Mary with a laugh
“Oh God don’t even joke about that I’m surprised Alexia didn’t accuse me of somehow getting pregnant by Alessia” you snarked back.
“So that’s why she was being all weird when she phoned me” chimed Lucy
“Oh no what did she say to you?” You sighed
“She just sounded pissed and was asking after you and then I told her about our conversation earlier and how you were being weird. Then I just mentioned Alessia coming to speak to you so she swore about it and practically hung up instantly” finished Lucy
“Yeah she’s a tad dramatic” you laughed awkwardly.
“She just loves you a lot” added Keira “but I don’t disagree, she’s pretty intense” chuckled the midfielder.
——
You hadn’t spoken to Alexia since the other day, something she hadn’t taken very well. She’d opted to call Lucy and Keira multiple times when she realised you weren’t going to pick up or answer her texts. She’d also not so subtly taken to stalking the lionesses socials, fans picking up on her recent following of them on TikTok, an app she almost never used.
She had tried to leave camp to watch you play Denmark, begging the coaches after Spain’s 5-0 win over Zambia. Unsurprisingly she was met with a hard no and a scolding that saw her spending rest day in the gym with her trainer.
Luckily, training finished just before the second half, meaning Alexia could catch it on the Tv. She practically raced to the showers, before getting ready at record speed and heading team room to the large tv to put on the game. She made it there just for the second half, checking her phone and realising that you were winning 1-0 and had played the whole match so far.
She watched intently, thankful that most of the play was in Denmark’s half and anything you had to do was little more than basic passes at the back.
It was around the 60th minute when the rest of the team joined her, Athenea and Ona moaning at her for hogging the big screen.
“Alexiaaa please can’t you watch this on your iPad?” Begged Athenea
“No” said Alexia sternly
“She’s just watching out potential future opponents” offered Irene weakly
“Nah Ale just wants to watch her girl play” insisted Aitana with a giggle
Alexia’s eyes were fixed on the screen as she stared at you anytime you were on screen. Irene and Jenni were in the corner watching her, discussing whether or not they should be worried.
“She does this often though she’s always studying games she’s obsessed” claimed Jenni
“True but she’s not even watching the game she’s just watching Y/n” replied Irene
“True maybe she’s just super in love it’s kind of cute”
“She looks stressed Jenni, like she’s going to throw up anytime y/n gets the ball I don’t understand”
Alexia’s breath hitched as Pernille harder made a break straight down the middle, heading in your direction. You ran to meet her and time seemed to slow for Alexia as she watched you extend yourself to slide tackle Pernille, the ball ending up back in possession of your team, Pernille landing in a crumpled heap on top of you.
Whilst watching this happen, Alexia let out some sort of unprecedented squeak which gained the attention of her teammates as they shifted themselves to watch the screen. You didn’t get up immediately, Jenni and Irene watching as Alexia drew blood on her hands from digging her nails so hard into her palms.
“Ay dios mio why isn’t she getting up?” Questioned Aitana which caused Alexia to somehow dig her nails even further, the vein in her forehead looked ready to burst from the stress.
They all watched intently, breathing a sigh of relief when Pernille got up and extended a hand to you as you slowly got to your feet. Your shirt had ridden up in the process, Alexia could’ve sworn she could see the early formation of a bump on your lower stomach, something that would be completely unnoticeable unless you were looking for one.
“Alexia are you ok?” asked Misa from her position next to her on the sofa.
Without realising it, Alexia had allowed some tears to roll down her cheek in relief that you and her child were likely fine.
“No I’m not” she replied much to the surprise of everyone. Normally the captain refrained from showing any sort of emotion, especially over something as simple as a risky tackle that her wife made almost every day.
“Alexia what’s going on you don’t normally react like this is everything ok with you? With y/n?” Asked Jenni
“No she’s pregnant and stubborn” stated Alexia as though that were the most mundane statement in the world.
“SORRY WHAT?!” shouted Jenni as the rest of the team jeered in surprise as well.
“Yeah she won’t talk to me either she’s mad at me” said Alexia
“Well I’d be pretty mad if you knocked me up when i was the World Cup squad for my country” stated Jenni sarcastically, earning giggles from the younger girls
“Why’s she mad at you Alexia?” Asked Irene in her mothering tone
“I accused her of cheating, shouted at her and then she said she was pregnant and I told her she shouldn’t play but she’s stubborn”
“Well I can see why she’s mad at you” added Aitana
“I’ve tried talking to her since but she just ignores me, Lucy and Keira said she’s doing fine but she’s refusing to tell their manager too. It’s like she’s pretending it’s not even real”
“She’s stressed Alexia, maybe start asking the right questions and not being angry at her, see it from her perspective” suggested Irene
“She won’t talk to me though”
“I’m going to phone Mary and ask her to put Y/n on the phone for you when the match is over” said Ona
“Ok Gracias Ona” replied alexia
——
The final whistle had gone just over 20 minutes ago, England winning, so Ona took to dialling the her ex-teammate.
“Hi Mary, can you go get y/n please. It’s for Alexia not me” scoffed Ona. “Yes I know she’s mad at her, Alexia is trying to make it better, yes she’s told me the news”
Ona could hear muttering and rustling in the background which resulted in her being met with your voice. She handed her phone to Alexia whose skin had paled significantly. Irene and Jenni took to ushering the team out of the room to give Alexia some privacy.
“Hello?” You called into the phone
“Hola bebita please don’t hang up give me a chance” pleaded Alexia
“Fine what is it Alexia”
“I’m so sorry amor for everything, for how I reacted and for jumping to stupid conclusions about Alessia. I just got jealous of how she made you so happy and I was miserable without you”
“I would never cheat on you Alexia I love you, only you!” You insisted
“I know that bebita I’m just stupid and immature and I’m sorry that I haven’t supported you properly about the pregnancy and that you felt you couldn’t tell me immediately because of what I’d say about playing”
“You would’ve forced me not to play Ale. I need to play because if I’m having the baby I’ll be out for a bit and I might not be as good when I come back so I might not make it to another whilst I’m at a good age”
“Is that what you’re worried about? You’re an amazing player y/n and you’re only 25 you’ve got so much time left”
“What I’m not good enough then Ale”
She couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, a symbol that you had began to forgive her.
“You will be I promise you will be and if not I’ll bribe fifa and you can play for Spain with me”
“Ale I’m being serious”
“So am I Bebé I have a lot of spare cash”
You laughed down the phone at the idiocy of your wife.
“I’m sorry too Alexia, I should’ve given you a chance to explain, the hormones are making me crazy at the moment”
“It’s ok amor I was stupid and I’m so sorry for that I just love you and pequeña and want to keep you safe. I watched your match and I think I had a heart attack when I saw you go down for the challenge”
“It scared me too, maybe I’m dramatic but I went to the toilet afterwards to check my underwear for any bleeding”
Alexia drew a breath at your words, fighting the urge to shout at you for being irresponsible and playing whilst pregnant. However, she withdrew and decided to offer comfort instead.
“I’m sorry y/n/n that must have been scary. I know I don’t like the fact that you’re going to play until the end but I understand why you want to and I know you’ll play without my blessing anyways but please just ask for a substitution next time you feel even a little bit scared”
“Of course I will mi amor I know you’re just protective of me and bebé and I love you for it but we’ll be ok. I promise after the World Cup finishes, I won’t play matches I’ll just train and we can tell Jona to shorten my exercise plan” you insisted
“Okay that sound good to me, I love you so much y/n and mi princesa”
“It could be a boy Ale” you laughed
“It could be but I have a feeling, call it ‘instinto maternal’”
“Ok bebita if you say so, te amo mucho”
“te quiero más, both of you” she replied
You hung up the phone with a smile, feeling instant relief wash over you as you’d made up with the mother of your child.
Placing a hand on your mostly flat stomach you whispered “I love you baby and so does Mama even if she’s a little bit overprotective sometimes”
Thank you for reading, Part 5 coming soon please leave any feedback in the comments or anything in the asks box! ❤️
#woso x reader#woso imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#espwnt x reader#barcelona femeni x reader#woso#fcb femeni#pregnant reader
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The Black Rose
🖤 staring: Tattoo Artist Miguel O’Hara x female reader
◽preview:
“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”
🖤 summary:
At The Bloody Inks, the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, you meet the skilled, stone-cold and attractive tattoo artist, Miguel O’Hara. Seeking a tantalizing tattoo for your rear end, Miguel isn’t hesitant to get what he wants, especially if it’s a doll like you.
◽tw/cw: Butt Tattoo, Cunninglingus, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Lip piercings Miguel, Needles mentioned, Oral sex, Semi-public, Tattooed Miguel, etc…
🖤 Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Muñeca (Doll), Bebé (Baby)
◽Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I
🖤 Word Count: Around 9.6K
(I do not own any of the fanart or photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)
(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)
You were used to getting tattoos, so what made this time any different?
You found yourself pondering that very question repeatedly, as you approached the renowned Nueva York tattoo parlor, 'Bloody Inks.'
Since the age of 18, you've adorned your body with small pieces of inked art, from your ankles to your shoulders. Despite your familiarity with tattoos, today marked a departure from the norm as you contemplated getting a substantial artwork for the first time.
But that wasn't what made you nervous…
It was where you were getting it.
You had a little bet with your friends about your next tattoo, and to your dismay, the idea of a butt tattoo became the central topic.
Secretly desiring one, you were always hesitant due to fears of pain and discomfort on such elastic tissue, the thought of undressing completely from the waist down only added to the nerves.
Yet, here you were, opening the door to the notorious shop…
A bell rang at your arrival along with the crackle of a searing guitar and thunderous drumbeats playing from a speaker. The music’s furious tempo of punk music overwhelmed your senses as you were hit with the smell of ink and antiseptic, and a hint of sandalwood. You stepped inside, your black tennis shoes, on wooden scuffed floors as your eyes roamed the dimly lit lobby before you.
A black leather sofa sat in one corner, a front desk before you, and a few sculptures and decorations covered the worn wooden floors. Despite everything inside, your attention was instantly captured by the gallery of designs that covered the black-brick walls of the tattoo parlor.
There were many sketches and finished pieces that were put on display, an assortment of vibrant colors and intricate details bringing life to the lobby. Mythical creatures, mandalas, floral designs, phrases, and abstract patterns decorated the walls, each one telling a different story and waiting to be chosen and etched onto willing skin.
The counter was empty when you arrived, a soft, dim glow of light hanging from chains on the ceiling cast an amber hue throughout the lobby. You stood patiently at the black desk, fiddling nervously with the bottom of your white t-shirt and pondering if you should go through with this tattoo…
“Oy! We have a customer!”
The loud outburst from a male with a British accent cut through the rather quiet lobby, making you jump. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest whilst you overheard the small conversation between the British male and who sounded like a female coming from further in the tattoo parlor.
“Gwendy, love, I’ve been dealing with the past few customers for a while now. Why not deal with this one, hmm?” The girl responded with a scoff.
“Hobie, you know you haven’t done shit.”
“Ah…you got me there love.” The British guy said with a chuckle. “Well, stop playing around and help the customer.” The girl laughed as you soon heard the sound of heavy footfalls becoming louder and louder. It wasn’t long before the identity of the British male was revealed to you.
The black curtains that separated the lobby from the back of the tattoo parlor opened to unveil an ebony guy with thick black hair and piercings. His hair was styled chaotically on his head, but you had a feeling it was purposeful with the way he carried himself. He had unmistakable confidence and not a care in the world for anyone. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his black jeans, a black t-shirt covering his lean body as his combat boots thudded against the wooden floors.
He came behind the counter, turning his dark brown eyes upon you, instantly making you a little intimidated. “Aye, name’s Hobie, and welcome to the Bloody Inks. Are you here for a piercing or a tattoo, love?” He asked, his slender fingers locating a pen and notepad from his side of the desk.
You chewed your inner cheek, drumming your thumb against the handle of your small bag.
This was your last chance to back out…
To decide to go on with life without the tattoo on your rear or to face your fears and get the beautiful inking.
It wasn’t long before you already had your answer, giving the male before you a small smile. “I’m here for a tattoo.” You said bringing a smile to Hobie’s pierced lips. He glanced down at the notepad, his pen gliding across the page. “Can I see some ID?”
You were used to this question and already had your ID in hand, placing it into the ebony male’s palm. He barely glanced at it before returning it to you. “Nice, have you been to Bloody Ink’s before?” He asked, causing you to bite your lip nervously.
“No, this is my first time.” He looked up at you, his pierced lips pulled back into a smirk. “Ah, great! I’ll make sure the big boss does your tattoo then.” He said with a smile, but you couldn’t help becoming a little more anxious. The boss was going to be the one giving you your tattoo.
The tattoo on your bottom…
You gulped, hoping the male wasn’t scary-looking or a perv.
“O-kay!” Hobie exclaimed, pulling you from your thoughts as he finished writing. “Now, I’ll give you a book to look over the designs whilst the boss finishes up in the back,” Hobie said, pulling a black, hardcover album from under the desk, placing it into your hand, then motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa.
You followed along to his instructions, taking the black book in your hands and moving over to the leather couch where you sat down. Hobie then left, going behind the black curtains and drawing them close once more.
To pass the time and decide upon your tattoo, you look over the many designs inside the book. Each was skillfully sketched by hand and each held their own, unique form of beauty. Your eyes glazed over blazing skulls, graceful elephants, motivating quotes, to lastly land upon a beautiful flower.
You gasped, instinctively reaching out to trace a finger along the intricate lines of the sketch. You could already imagine the rose’s petals on your bottom, sprouting out in full bloom across your right, no… left cheek.
The circular pistil was visible and drawn so full of detail that it felt like it was jumping out at you. A few leaves could be seen peeking out the top of the rose as you felt like this design was for you.
Like it was drawing you in…
…
..
.
“Have you decided?”
A deep, husky voice asked inside of the quiet lobby. You jumped in your seat, eyes snapping up to see someone was occupying the counter…
But it wasn’t Hobie…
A tanned male with a muscular, large build was now present. Standing tall and broad, his physique showed proof of his dedication to the wellbeing of his body due to his swell and bulging muscles. His chiseled features were framed by a strong, defined jawline, a sharp nose, and dark smoldering eyes.
His bronze skin held tattoos that were intricately etched on his skin, each design holding a mysterious story across the backs of his hands, on his arms, and even along his chest and neck. They accentuated the contours of his muscles and added even more allure to his already magnetic presence. He placed his hands on the desk, his eyes still trained on you, his taut body dressed in a mere black t-shirt, jeans, and boots, but he made such simple clothes look like it was woven by the gods.
You didn’t know how long you’d been gawking at him in utter shock and disbelief at the magnificence before you. It wasn't until he moved once more, beckoning to you with two inked fingers that you snapped out of your trance.
You gulped, gathered up your bag and the black album, and made your way to the counter.
The closer you got, the more attractive and intimidating he became. His bushy eyebrows were drawn low over his amber eyes and his mouth, holding two ringed piercings on the opposite ends of his lower lip, were pulled into a scowl.
He looked stern, but you pondered if that was just his usual look.
“So have you decided on what piece you wanted?” He asked again, but you were still baffled by how drop-dead gorgeous he was that you almost misheard him once more. “Y-yes.” You stammered, gulping thickly, your finger still holding the page of your desired sketch. He hummed, holding his large hand out to you, motioning to the black book. You complied, placing it open into his palm, the hardcover open to the page of your tattoo choice.
It felt relieving to not have his stern eyes on you anymore, his amber orbs looking at the sketch you’ve chosen in the book. You bit your lip nervously, eyes trained on him whilst he looked over the design before he turned his gaze back up at you. “You know that’s an ass tat, right?” He bluntly asked which made heat rise in the back of your neck.
“Y-Yes, I know.” You replied, causing his eyebrows to rise for a brief second in surprise. “Well…Okay then.” He said, closing the book and holding the page with his thumb. “I’m Miguel, I’ll be your tattoo artist for today.”
Your heart dropped at his words.
You didn’t know to feel excited or nervous as hell, knowing he’d be the one touching you so intimately. “I-It’s nice to meet you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. His eyes lingered on you for a moment too long as he gave you a curt nod, a gesture that hopefully meant, 'You too.'
He motioned with his head to the back of the tattoo parlor, the entrance that was covered in black curtains. “Follow me.” He commanded in a gravelly tone. You gulped, following behind him through the black drapes to venture further into the tattoo parlor.
Instantly when you entered, the smell of ink and antiseptic became more potent, the sounds of the buzzing of the tattoo guns filled your ears along with the playful banter between the two artists from before.
“So Gwendy, you still believe just because you're in your twenties now that you can order me around?” Hobie asked the girl from across the room. She chuckled, looking away from her male client who was getting a skull tattooed onto his leg to over at Hobie. The girl had blonde, wavy hair and black piercings that covered her face. Two studs styled her eyebrow and a hooped one could be seen on her nose.
She smirked at the ebony male. “I didn’t say anything of the sort and stop calling me that. You know my name.” She laughed, eliciting a snort from Hobie. “Aye, but I like Gwendy better than Gwen.”
Miguel groaned in annoyance, looking between the two young artists. “Stop this nonsense and get to work.” He barked at Gwen and Hobie which surprised you, every muscle in his backside tensing up after his outburst. The conversation ceased to be replaced with just Miguel and your footsteps and the buzzing of the tattoo needles, but Miguel’s previous words didn’t seem to affect the two artists’ since after you both left, their conversation started up again.
Miguel grumbled under his breath, his grip on the black album tightening. You walked behind him down the hallway, his tall and broad being completely blocking your view around him. Every time you looked up, you came face to face with his muscular backside that was covered in his black T-shirt that looked to be straining against his musculature.
You clutched your purse while walking down the hallway to watch him enter a room. When you looked over, you saw a name tag on the door that read 'Miguel O'Hara.'
‘This must be his own personal tattoo room.’
You thought, your stomach clenching on cue as you followed him into the room. Your eyes instantly took in the attractive strangers’ workspace, the room you would also be spending the next hour or so in.
The tattoo room seemed to be more grand, more important than the one the two artists’ Gwen and Hobie were in. The walls were decorated, once more, with black and gray masterpieces of artwork, but these were more sci-fi and futuristic than the ones displayed in the lobby.
Spotlights hung from the ceiling carefully positioned to cast a focused radiance upon the vintage leather chair in the center of the room. The space smelled strongly of ink, antiseptic, men's cologne, and…
Smoke.
But not the typical smoke from a fire, more like from tobacco.
You couldn't help but wonder if the fine male smoked. You didn't want to assume or stereotype, but he looked like he would…
Your eyes soon graced over the main attraction of the room, the tattoo chair and station beside it. The seat had a black leather cushion that looked soft and very comfortable. It appeared, overall, brand new as if no one had hardly sat in it. A steel workstation was positioned beside the hot seat, the surface covered in an assortment of tools like a painter’s palette. The main one catching your eye was the needles and the gun.
You gulped, stepping more into the room as Miguel was rummaging through a nearby closet, the sound of metal and items clattering inside. He glanced momentarily over at the flower sketch inside of the black album before returning to get the items he needed.
You’ve learned, so far, that your tattoo artist was a rather quiet man. He barely spoke, and merely did things without providing a reason or explanation. He rummaged through the closet, next to the cabinets of a few counters and then a small chest in the room, trying to find all of the items he needed to, what you can infer, tattoo your desired choice onto your skin.
Your eyes never left him, watching his massive build transverse around the room, moving things, picking things up, putting them to the side all whilst holding an aura of unshakable coldness that dripped from his very being.
It was intimidating, yet alluring, nonetheless.
Once Miguel found the items he needed, he placed them onto the steel workstation.
With the way he was going about things, you would have thought he'd forgotten about your presence; as he was completely engrossed in what he was doing, placing a piece of stencil paper that held the floral design you wanted onto the workstation, along with black ink tubes, napkins, bottles of creams and other things.
However, you couldn’t focus…
You were highly nervous.
You stood nearby, clutching your purse whilst Miguel covered the tattoo chair with a few gray towels, before returning to organizing his workstation, and handling his tattoo gun. His thick, inked gingers deftly glided across the metal tools and inks when he finally looked up at you. You noticed his dark brown eyes roam your figure, meeting your eyes once more as he fiddled with the needles and tattoo gun.
“Which side?” He asked suddenly, placing the gun down on the workstation. You were baffled, confused about what he meant. “W-what?” You stammered, watching him take a seat on a black rolling stool. “You want your tattoo on your bottom, correct?” He asked, causing you to nod at his question. “Then which side?” He inquired once more.
You gulped, biting your lip. You pondered, remembering the artwork of the black rose from the album book and how beautiful it was, briefly deciding with yourself on which side. “O-On the left.” You replied after considering.
He hummed, nodding whilst placing a pair of black latex gloves onto his table.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to undress from the waist down and lay on your stomach.” He directed, pressing a button under the chair with his foot, causing the backing to lean back.
Your heart quickened and your stomach clenched. This was what you were worried about…
The undressing part.
It wasn’t that you had an unattractive body or weren’t familiar with the acts of intimacy, it was the thought of him, a handsome stranger having his stern gaze on your sensitive area.
How he’ll have to be studying your flesh, taking in every curve and dot whilst he worked in etching the beautiful tattoo onto your rear that made you a little reluctant.
You hesitated, clutching your purse once more. Your nervousness started to become palpable as you noticed Miguel looking up at you. He took in your tentativeness, his stern face softening at the sight. He sighed heavily, clenching his jaw as his lip piercings caught in the ceiling light.
“Are you sure about this?” His deep and rough voice filled the quiet room, his movements coming to a halt. You chewed your inner cheek, pondering his question. “Yes…I’m sure.” You replied, causing him to click his tongue. “Then what are all these nerves coming from?” He asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The movement seems to make his pecs more defined against the black fabric.
“I’ve seen you aren’t new to tattoos.” He said, his amber orbs probably taking in the small, tattooed quotes and patterns covering your body in minor spots before meeting your eyes once again. “So what’s the problem?”
You sighed, meeting his eyes.
Strangely, you felt like pouring your heart out to him.
Despite his coldness, you had a feeling whatever you told him would stay in this room…
“I’ve never got a huge piece done before.” You told him, which was partly the truth. Miguel hummed, his gaze on you intense. “That’s it?” You bit your lip anxiously once more, fiddling with the zipper of your purse. “N-No…I guess I’m nervous about…
Undressing.”
You uttered, biting your lip. However, Miguel seemed unfazed, only nodding in understanding.
“What’s your name?” He asked suddenly which made your eyebrows furrow. “Y-Y/N.” You hesitantly replied, bringing a tight-lipped smile to Miguel’s lips. “As you can see. Y/N, for the tattoo you’ve chosen, it’s required that you undress from the waist down.” He said, his amber eyes searching the room before landing on a decoration that sat on a counter.
He stood up, picking up the small porcelain sculpture of a gray woman’s naked body. The piece looked rather small in his massive hands.
“You see here.” He turned the female around, pointing to the left side of the gray sculpture’s plump rear end. “This entire side will need to be revealed for me to work.” He explained, lowering his finger to point underneath the left cheek. “And the tattoo would end underneath the left buttock.” He said, setting the sculpture to the side, and turning his eyes back onto you.
“For other tattoos, I wouldn’t have asked for such things and simply allowed you to keep your undergarments on and work from there.” His tone was gravelly and rough as he spoke to you. “But I'd like to be cautious, so I ask you to remove everything.” He informed you, which made you feel better about the process, but still wary.
Miguel, looked you up and down, tapping his finger against his thick thigh, noticing that you were still hesitant. “How about this,” He began, his words instantly piquing your interest. “I can turn around and allow you to undress and get into a comfortable position on the chair.” He said. “I’ll even give you a towel to cover yourself with.” He proposed with a straight face. “How does that sound?” His demeanor and gravelly tone contrasted greatly with his kind and understanding words.
You thought it over for a while before nodding at his suggestion. He rose from his seat, retrieving a black towel from the closet, and placing it onto the tattoo chair that was already covered in gray towels. He then returned to his rolling stool and turned around to face the wall. “Let me know when you are done.” He said, his voice, husky and deep.
“O-Okay.” You told him, the uncertainty, evident in your voice. Your eyes took in his muscular backside that was straining against his black t-shirt. Every bulging muscle was visible through the fabric.
You bit your lip, feeling rather odd but proceeding on.
You closed the door of his tattoo room and set your purse down on the floor. You exhaled deeply, calming yourself down before looping your fingers into the waistband of your black shorts, slowly drawing them down, your eyes trained on him.
Miguel was completely solid and unmoving. His arms crossed over his chest and his back still facing you. He was so quiet, that you could almost forget he was there.
Well, almost…
When the black fabric of your shorts was nothing but a puddle around your ankles, you stepped out of them, tossing them to the side. You gulped, standing in just your white shirt, black tennis shoes, and panties. You heaved a quiet sigh, chewing your inner cheek.
This was the hard part…
You were about to undress completely…
You exhaled deeply, reluctantly slipping your thumbs into the elastic band of your black panties, pulling them down, and exposing your sex to the tattoo room. You hissed, feeling the cool air against your core. Hastily, you removed them from your being, tossing them to the side along with your shorts.
It felt so weird standing in a foreign place with your rear completely unveiled.
You wanted nothing more than to cover up…
Your eyes shifted over to Miguels’ broad backside, still in its same position.
“Everything alright?”
You jumped at his sudden question, his voice was thunderous compared to the total quietness that had once filled the room. “Y-y-yes.” You squeaked, swiftly moving to climb onto the tattoo chair, laying on your stomach, and placing the black towel over your bare rear to conceal yourself.
After Miguel’s abrupt question, he didn’t say anything else, and neither did you, despite being ready. It took a while for you to tell the sexy, and rather intimidating tattoo artist that you were all set. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest every time you thought you were prepared to do so.
You rested your chin upon the backs of your hands, laying flat on your stomach. You heaved a sigh, feeling rather ridiculous at how scared you were.
You chose to come here, just like you chose to get this tattoo.
‘No reason to back out now.’ You thought, wetting your lips before getting the artist’s attention. “I-I’m ready.” You muttered, causing an instant creak from Miguel’s stool to be heard.
“Good.” He uttered, the sound of the wheels from his seat gliding across the black marble flooring filling the room. You soon felt his presence to your right, seeing him in your peripherals, sitting tall and large on his stool next to you on the tattoo chair. His dark brown eyes continuously glanced over at you before roaming your body, his facial features unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he was checking you out, or was merely looking at you to see if you hadn’t fainted on his chair.
“You seem…tense.” He commented in his usual dead tone. You looked over your shoulder at him to see his large hands attaching a black ink tube to his tattoo gun. His black tattoo arm sleeve was visible under the projecting light of the ceiling as his amber eyes were trained more on what he was doing rather than you.
“Y-yes. I’m still a little nervous.” You confessed, feeling your hands begin to tremble slightly. Miguel looked up at you, the light bouncing off his two lip piercings on his lower lip. “If I start and your body is not relaxed it’s going to hurt like a bitch.” He said bluntly, setting his tattoo gun onto his workstation. His words didn’t help, only causing your heart to quicken in pace and freak you out even more.
Because how could you possibly calm down?
It felt utterly impossible…
You weren’t nervous about the needle, or getting tattooed to begin with. You were experienced when it came to the inking process. What was working the nerves was the thought of his stern gaze and calloused hands feeling up your bare bottom. His gloved thumbs pressed into your rear, his amber eyes trained on every piece of you from the waist down which was making you nervous as hell.
Miguel eyed you, taking in your troubled expression as you lay upon his tattoo chair. Your bare bottom, covered in a black towel and your chin resting on your hands.
“Let me relax you.”
He abruptly said in almost a commanding voice rather than as a proposition. His suggestion made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help the naughty thoughts that came to your mind at the thought of him ‘relaxing’ you.
"And h-how would you do that?" You asked, watching him rise from his stool, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you.
"I'm going to give you a massage."
He declared. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unexpected proposal, your entire body suddenly heating up. "I've never heard of a tattoo parlor doing something like that." You admitted, feeling him adjust the chair's height to match his towering 7-foot frame, bringing the seat up to his waist.
"That's because you've never been to the Bloody Inks before," he said, a hint of amusement found in a usual cold voice. "There's a reason we're notorious in Nueva York, Y/N " he explained. "If we did what every other parlor did, we'd be just like any other tattoo shop…
Isn’t that right?”
He whispered, his voice sending shivers down your back. “I-I guess so.” You replied as without warning you began to feel his thick fingers on your shoulders, caressing small patterns into your blades. You gasped, the feeling instantly making you melt into the chair.
“You okay?” He asked, every touch of his thick fingers against your tensed muscles making you shudder. “Mhm.” The hum being pulled from your very being and coming out more forceful than you attended whilst Miguel continued his massage.
Miguel’s tattooed hands were large and strong, tracing the contours of your muscles and pressing gently into them. Suddenly, you winced slightly, the tension resisting his skilled touch. “Relax,” He uttered, his voice a low rumble that reverberated from the depth of his broad chest. You shakingly nodded, eyes fluttering closed at the wonderful sensations. “O-Okay. I’ll try.” You replied, trying to calm yourself.
You shakingly exhaled, feeling Miguel’s hands move down your back, his soothing caresses focusing on the crease that began the arch of your ass.
“Damn, there's a lot of tension here.” He commented, adding more pressure into his fingers and kneading the soft tissue in that area. You let out a contented sigh, his large hands enclosing around the sides of your waist. His thumbs pressed into your skin through the fabric of your white t-shirt, rubbing small patterns into your lower back. You groaned softly, the sensations he was bringing to you felt so good.
His touch, mysteriousness, voice, coldness, everything about him was so hot.
His fingers soothing places in your back that you didn’t even know existed, bringing you closer to tranquility.
“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing and running his palm along the center of your back, making you shiver. You exhaled deeply, your limbs feeling heavy and relaxed. “Mmm, good. It feels good.” You replied with closed eyes.
“That’s good to hear.” He said, his hands leaving your body.
“But I can’t help but notice you are still tense.”
Miguel said, making your eyebrows furrow as a sense of emptiness filled your being without his touch.
“W-what do you mean?” You inquired, entirely puzzled. You didn’t feel a single bit of tension in your backside. A feeling of pure relaxation filled your being, leaving you confused about what he meant by such things.
But it wasn’t like you were skilled as a masseuse yourself, so you could be mistaken.
“Yes, you are still tensed.” He uttered, running his fingers along the center of your backside, over the curve of your ass to rest a hand on your rear that was covered in the black towel.
“Here, it needs my attention.”
You were shocked and in disbelief, instantly becoming speechless; but despite your bewilderment, Miguel continued talking. “It’ll only make sense to massage where I'll be working. It’ll help loosen the muscles of your rear, making tattooing it less painful.” He explained, but it still didn’t stop the huge blush that spread across your face. You didn’t know how to respond, stuck between your own uncertainties and desires.
“T-this will be… beneficial?” You asked shakingly, trying to push past the naughty and erotic things that were filling your head. Miguel hummed. “Yes, I’ll be tattooing your left buttock, so it’ll help make the tattoo process smoother…
For you, I mean.”
You bit your lip. The butterflies, going rampant in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do or what to say, but then the realization that he was going to have to see and touch your bottom anyway when the actual inking process began led you to put your worries to the side and agree.
“No. I don’t mind.” You said, thankful that Miguel couldn’t see how red you were due to your face being away from him. Miguel hummed, his previous touch seeming to linger upon your skin.
“I’ll have to remove the towel. You okay with that?” He asked, which made your heart skip a beat. You shakingly exhaled, nodding. “Yes.”
You felt him lift the black towel from your bottom, the cool air rushing over your bare rear. You sucked in a breath as before, Miguel didn’t warn you, his warm hands groping your cheeks and instantly beginning to knead the fat of your ass.
This time, the sensations were different.
On your backside, the massage was more relaxing and tranquil, but on your rear, it felt more personal, more…
Intimate.
His touch made you feel pleasure beyond anything…
You bit your bottom lip harshly, trying to muffle the erotic cries that wished to escape whilst Miguel’s calloused hands worked wonders on your rear. His fingers pressed firmly into your left cheek, squeezing the fat before moving along the sides. It was a process that you pondered if it was professional or not, but it wasn’t like you cared.
His fingers knead into your soft flesh, like dough, making you see stars every single time. You were slowly becoming wet, your arousal spilling from your exposed sex to gradually coat your thighs and drench the gray towels underneath you.
The massage was good.
Dangerously too good…
A sudden moan broke free, filling the tattoo room when he roughly groped both of your cheeks in his large hands, spreading them apart. You instantly blushed horribly, embarrassed beyond anything.
“O-Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry.” You briskly replied, wanting nothing more than to hide. You didn’t know how the hell Miguel would react.
Would he cease his wonderful massage?
Tell you to leave?
Would things get hella awkward now?
You felt like a complete idiot, mentally facepalming yourself for giving into the pleasure of a total stranger.
But to your surprise, Miguel did something you weren’t expecting.
He chuckled.
For the first time since you met the menacing and large Latino artist, he showed an emotion that didn’t make you feel so freaking intimidated. The sound of the small, deep laughter that passed his lips was honestly breathtaking, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again.
“No need to apologize.” He replied, drawing your attention back to him and his wonderful massage. His touch on your rear became more soft and gentle like he was taking his time with you.
“It just shows I’m providing you what your body needs.” He replied, moving his hands onto your thighs, caressing them with his thumbs before running his hands up to fully cup your asscheeks into his hands. You moaned softly, your body instinctively arching up into his waiting palms. Miguel snickered, giving your ass another squeeze when everything stopped.
His movement on your rear ceased, his small laughs, movement, everything!
You lay there, waiting for anything to happen when you suddenly felt his pierced lips against your ear.
“Let’s drop the act, Cariño.”
He whispered, his breath warm on your face and his piercings, cold against your skin. Your heart dropped, and your body instantly became hot.
You tried to speak, to deny what he was saying, but your quivering lips wouldn’t form the words.
He snickered at your speechlessness and how flustered you were, the sound sending tingles throughout your entire being and going straight to your throbbing core.
“Let me relax you how we both desire, Y/N.”
He hummed, resuming his touch on your rear, but this time it was different. It was purposefully more erotic. He gave your bottom a sensual squeeze with one hand, his other moving up to stroke your hair.
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
It felt surreal.
Something you'll fantasize about your sexy tattooist…
But Miguel’s fingers running through your hair, massaging your scalp whilst continuing to tease and knead your right asscheek with his fingers made you think otherwise.
You were speechless yet again. You didn’t know how to respond, but your body was doing the speaking for you.
Your juices dripping down your thighs and soaking the gray towels under you, spoke volumes on its own. You shakingly exhaled, trying to calm your excitement.
Miguel chuckled, his fingers continuing their tantalizing play on your rear, tempting and taunting you to give in to the sexy artist.
You bit your lip harshly, eyes fluttering as he, teasingly, brushed his thumb across your slick folds. You gasped at his attempt to entice you more.
“Mmm, you are soaking, Muneca.” He growled against your ear, his lip rings brushing your lobe and making you shudder. He sucked in a breath, running his fingers up and down your slick folds, coating his digits in your never-ending arousal. He groaned at your wetness, cupping your mound, to circle his two fingers around your sensitive bud. You moaned helplessly, trembling with pleasure.
“Muneca, you want this, just as much as I do.” He uttered, pressing his fingers more against your throbbing bud, eliciting a cry to escape your lips and making you wetter.
“Let me relax you.” He whispered, his deep voice filled with desire as he removed his hands to place them on your hips, caressing gentle circles against your sides.
“Let me taste what this pussy of yours is like and then I'll tattoo that rose on your gorgeous ass.”
He proposed once again. His words alone made your stomach clench in want. The gray towels underneath you completely soak with your arousal.
You couldn't stop yourself. The desire blinded you as your head slowly nods at his erotic proposition.
“P-Please.” You practically begged; voice tainted with desperation for more of him. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk against your ear.
“Good girl, Y/N.” He praised, nipping softly at your ear before pulling away. His touch left you cold and empty.
“On your knees. Ass up.”
He commanded, his coldness resurfacing right before your eyes. His sternness was even more attractive and made your core throb in anticipation.
You bit your lip, lust blinding your every action, thought, and word as you rose on the tattoo chair. As he instructed, you stood up on your knees and forearms with your ass thrust up into the air.
The cool air continuously brushed along your heated core, making your breathing hitch every time. The position gave him a full display of your wet folds and the gradual drip of your arousal down your thighs. The sight alone revealed your evident desire for him which made you excited, but also ashamed.
This sexy stranger was intimidating, scary, and someone you would, normally, never align yourself with.
So what was different about him that had you practically soaking his chair?
In your peripherals, you saw Miguel move. The mere motion snapped you out of your thoughts as his massive being disappeared from view. Instantly, you became anxious, oblivious to his next actions.
A sexy groan escaped his lips, feeling his amber eyes trained on your exposed sensitive area. “That's a pretty pussy you got that.” He purred, making you blush horribly. You buried your face into your inner elbow, embarrassed for liking the compliment from someone as sexy as him.
Miguel chuckled. “Does someone like my praises? You are a naughty one, Cariño.”
He snickered. Your face, reddening even more. His fingers continued their dance along the skin of your ass, your breathing becoming more shaky and your body burning hot.
His words and touch alone were enough to make you lose control. Beads of your essence running down your thighs.
“Cariño, I've only known you for about 30 minutes, yet, there is something about you that fascinates me. Something that I love so very fucking much….
Want to know what that is?”
He asked, his voice deep and husky, yet sending a shiver down your spine; his fingers ghosting along your skin. “Y-Yes.” You shakingly inquired, curious about his answer, but also anxious for him to cease his teasing and touch you.
He chuckled at your cluelessness, running his nails along your bare rear making you shiver.
“I love that despite your obvious hesitance and, dare I say, fear, you give into your wants, Muñeca
Your desires.”
He uttered, the pads of his fingers barely touching you, but forming goosebumps, everywhere along your skin.
“I-I don't understand.” You breathlessly and honestly replied, trying your hardest to look over your shoulder at the large male but failing every time.
“You don't understand, bebé?” He purred, his fingers leaving your bottom. “Then let me turn those gears in that sexy head of yours.” He whispered, his heavy footfalls slowly walking to stand in front of you. You gulped, glancing up to see him right before you, the growing bulge in his black jeans being the main attraction.
“You come into my shop for an ass tat, yet you were nervous as hell to get it.” He acknowledged. “But despite your nerves, here you are on my chair with that sexy ass all ready for me." He said with a smirk. His hand moved to run through your hair, massaging your scalp with the pads of his fingers once more.
Your eyes fluttered, sinking more into the soft leather, your rear rising. “And even now, I intimidate you, don't I, Cariño?” He asked, his male cologne and the faint scent of cigarette smoke filling your nose, increasing your desire for him.
Regardless of your lust, Miguel did intimidate you. His massive body, bulging muscles, stern-drawn face, tattoos, lip rings, and cold aura made you nervous around him.
That you couldn't lie about...
“Y-yes. You do.” You confessed, eliciting a deep hum from Miguel. “Yet, you are giving yourself to me.” He whispered, moving his hand from your hair to take your chin into his calloused fingers. He turned you to look up at him, your eyes darting to take in his chiseled cheeks, massive neck tattoo, enticing rings on his plush lips, smoldering amber eyes, and dark brown hair that loomed over his eyes.
He smirked, his canines peeking out from his lips. “You are delivering yourself to me on a silver platter, Y/N.” He rasped, caressing your chin and holding your stunned gaze before pulling away. You were left breathless, gasping for air, you didn't know you were holding.
You tried to track him, his huge, menacing form returning behind you and out of your sight. “So love, despite your worries, reluctance, and inner thoughts telling you to stop and turn back.
If you desire something, you go through with it...”
Your eyebrows furrowed. You wondered if Miguel's observation of you was correct.
Were you the type to follow your desires, even though everything in you was telling you otherwise?
You pondered, if the sexy stranger was right, despite only knowing you for a short time.
But that thought soon became nothing but mush in your brain when his sudden grip on your asscheeks made your entire mind go blank. As if dipped in warmth, your body instantly melted like chocolate under his fingertips, a soft moan escaping your lips.
Miguel hummed, his breath brushing along your heated core, only making you wetter.
“And I love a woman that knows what she wants,” He uttered, pressing a kiss to your left ass cheek, making you gasp,
“What she needs…” He whispered, pressing another kiss to your other eliciting another soft moan from you.
“I can tell you are going to be tasty…”
He rasped before finally giving you what you desired and swiping his tongue along your folds.
You cried out, slumping against the tattoo chair whilst Miguel licked at your rear. He groaned, squeezing your ass and pressing his face more into your bottom, licking, sucking and completely devouring you.
You moaned uncontrollably, gripping the leather seat tightly. “O-Oh gosh.” You whimpered as Miguel continued his pleasurable assault, running his skillful hands up and down your spine, brushing your shirt up to feel more of your skin. You were becoming hot and increasingly wet, your love juices spilling from your entrance to be swallowed by Miguel’s eager mouth.
With every suction of his lips and the swipe of his tongue, it made your mind complete mush, time and space becoming non-existent. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He groaned, sloppily ravaging your core, and fucking you with his tongue.
The tattoo room was filled with your whines and whimpers, Miguel’s low groans, and the squelching of your wet pussy. Your entire body was clenching and squirming the closer you got to that sweet end.
Like his hands, Miguel’s mouth worked wonders on you. His tongue moved rapidly across your pussy, seeming to be everywhere at once. Swirling your throbbing bud, thrusting into your entrance, and lapping your delicate pussy lips. a
When it came too much to bear, Miguel held you close, preventing you from moving away from him. It only made you tremble, the pleasure consuming your entire being.
“M-Miguel, I-I’m close.” You cried out, pressing your face into the tattoo chair. He hummed, the vibrations rumbling through you and making your stomach tighten even more. “You want to cum, pretty girl?” He chuckled, moving from your desired spot to kiss along the skin of your bottom. His hooped, lip rings brushed along the skin of your ass and made you even more wetter.
You moaned softly, frantically nodding. “Yes, yes. Please, Miguel.” You whined, wanting him to bring you to your release. You felt his pierced lips pull into a smirk. He pressed a kiss to your right cheek before returning his skilled mouth to your puffy pussy lips once more.
You gasped loudly, his tongue darting erratically along your dripping folds. The feeling was more extreme than ever before as he continued, tugging and lapping at your sweet pussy.
You were so wet, your thighs dripping with your arousal like a relentless rain, its non-stop downpour completely soaking your legs and the gray towels underneath you. You gritted your teeth, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear, begging for a release.
Everything felt so good, you wanted to hold on, to feel more of Miguel’s tongue and hands that roamed your body, caressing you in ways that increased the pleasure by 10-fold;
But you just couldn’t…
With a loud cry, you climaxed hard onto his waiting mouth. Your vision saw white, eyes rolling as your sticky juices covered his pierced lips and ran down your legs. Miguel groaned in pleasure, gripping your cheeks harshly, widening you and licking you clean, whispering, 'So good. Such a good girl for me,’ over and over again.
It was like music to your ears.
Your eyes fluttered as he finished; tugging away from your pussy lips with a wet plop. You were dazed, falling flat against the tattoo chair, and trying to calm your breathing and come down from your epic high.
Faintly, you could hear Miguel’s boots against the black marble flooring, moving around to stand beside you, coming into view once more.
With glazed eyes, you looked over at him, breathing heavily. His chin and pierced lips were completely covered in your arousal. Like a king who had just feasted on a buffet fit for royalty, he used his fingers to wipe it off in satisfaction. “So delicious, Muñeca.” He praised again with a smirk. Your entire body and face flushed at his erotic compliment. You were speechless, not at all knowing how to respond.
For a moment you just stared up at him, still trying to figure out if what just happened, happened.
His amber eyes roamed over your form once more, lingering on your bare rear longer than anything else. He growled, stepping closer once more. “But don’t think we’re done here, Muñeca.”
“I want more.
Just one more taste”
He uttered, the words surprising you, but not as surprising as what he did next…
Everything was a blur, his large being moved so quickly it was hard to follow, especially in your dazed state.
You soon found him underneath you on the tattoo chair, his massive body laying under you and your puffy pussy lips right over his waiting mouth. His large hands roughly groping your rear, and holding you tightly in place.
Certainly, you wouldn't be able to get out of his hold, even if you tried.
You gulped, staring down at him between your thighs in shock. Your mind, not keeping up fast enough. “M-Miguel, w-what-”
“Let me relax you, chica.”
He cut you off, gripping your ass in his large, inked hands and pushing you down onto his mouth once more. You cried out, his mouth even more intense than ever.
Your eyes fluttered and rolled as his tongue circled your clit, teasingly applying more pressure and making you whine. Your fingers, instinctively, found his dark brown hair, gripping and tugging at the chocolate strands and making Miguel groan.
He caressed your bottom with his large, calloused hands, sucking at your sensitive bud with his hot, wet mouth, expertly flicking it. You moaned helplessly. “M-Miguel, g-gosh. It feels so good.” You cried out, instinctively, grinding your hips against his mouth, chasing another steady rising climax. Miguel's eyes fluttered close, savoring your taste on his tongue as he lapped and sucked at your sticky folds.
Your breathing quickened, his piercings grazing against your sensitive skin with every lap of his tongue against your entrance. You were slowly losing it, feeling him gradually ease his tongue inside of you before thrusting you repeatedly with the wet muscle.
You moaned loudly, rutting your hips and continuously brushing his nose into your clit, his tongue continuing its torment. A strangled moan erupted from your throat, the pleasure becoming too much. You shook uncontrollably, gripping his hair tightly and squirming on his mouth.
“A-Ahh, Miguel, I-I can’t-” You tried moving off, but Miguel firmly held you down on his mouth, his tongue, darting in and out of your entrance, fucking you with his warm, wet muscle.
The familiar feeling of scorching heat began to rise in your stomach. You gritted your teeth, his metal ringed, lip piercings brushing against your pussy lips with each suckle. He reached around, parting your lips and sticking his tongue deeply into your opening, messily lapping and sucking you.
Your love juices soaked his lips and chin to be sloppily devoured by Miguel. The room was filled with the erotic sounds of your pussy’s squelches. Silent moans passed your lips, as your head limply fell back to be caught by Miguel’s large hand.
He took your chin in his tattooed finger, pulling you back down towards him. He moved his mouth from your heated core as his intense dark eyes met yours. “I want your eyes on me.” He said, his breathing rather stable, despite almost drowning in your pussy for what felt like an hour. His tattooed hand caressed your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.
“I want to see you cum, Muñeca .” He whispered, pressing kisses along your inner thighs and nipping softly. You bit your lip, a soft moan passing your lips at his pecks. You weakly nodded, almost completely dazed.
He smirked, pressing a long searing kiss to your thigh. “Hmm, good girl.” He uttered parting your pussy lips with two thick fingers and attacking your swollen clit once more. It took everything in you to keep his intense gaze. His dark brown eyes stared intently back at you whilst his tongue and lips moved in a frenzy along your pussy.
Your body trembled horribly, fingers gripping his hair tightly to stabilize yourself.
“M-Miguel.” You whined his name over and over again. The desire to tell him of your reached peak was on the tip of your tongue, but the pleasure was too overwhelming; leaving you unable to say such a thing as your release unexpectedly slammed into you.
With a loud strangled moan, you orgasmed for the second time.
Your body shook uncontrollably as your thighs squeezed around Miguel tightly. Your juices gushed out onto his eager mouth whilst a sensation of pure bliss sprouted throughout your being.
Your eyes rolled as silent and breathy moans busted from the depth of your chest. Miguel didn’t cease his torment, continuing to suckle on your puffy pussy lips, swallowing all of your sweet nectar. His lips and chin were completely drenched in a mixture of saliva and your love juices, but it didn’t seem as if the massive tattooist cared.
Until he was satisfied, Miguel continued to slurp messily at you. You were highly sensitive, squirming on his mouth and whimpering uncontrollably as he held you down with a firm grip on your thighs. When his thirst was satiated, you were relieved to hear a deep hum of delight escape his glistening lips and soon feel him effortlessly lift you from his mouth to rest your bare bottom on his clothed chest.
You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. When you finally came down from your high, you glanced up to see his dark eyes peering back at you. His gaze was intense and stern as always, but your attention instantly went down to his mouth and the mess you’ve made upon it.
His tanned lips and piercings glistened with your arousal. Your essence dripping down to coat the entirety of his chin. Your entire face burned up at the sight.
“Oh my gosh, I’m s-so sorry.” You hastily apologized, still a little jittery from your explosive orgasm. You reached over to grab the black towel that was left discarded on his stool to try to clean him up.
“Don’t.”
He simply stated, capturing your wrist in his large hand to halt your movement. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching him take the towel from you and toss it to the side.
You were confused, your eyes taking in his mouth and chin that was still covered in your juices. His pierced lips pulled into a smirk, his hands moving to caress your bare ass.
“I want to taste all of it, Muñeca. I'm not letting none of you go to waste…”
For the next hour or so, the room was filled with the buzzing of a tattoo gun and Miguel’s deep voice occasionally trying to soothe you.
“Beautiful Muñeca. You are doing well.”
“I promise you, this rose will look good on you when I’m done.”
“Just a little longer, I’m almost finished.”
He whispered, his gloved fingers pressing into your flesh as he applied the last finishing strokes of black ink onto the rose on your rear. You bit your lip harshly, gripping the leather cushion when finally, the buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased. The needle, no longer, harshly pricking of your sensitive skin.
“I’m finished, Muñeca.” He said, placing the gun to the side and soothingly, caressing your waist. You exhaled a sigh of relief, your eyes a little teary.
“You did well, Cariño.” He praised once more, proceeding to clean the tattoo, applying an antiseptic ointment and covering it, all whilst speaking to you.
“Although, you’ve surprised me.” He said with a chuckle. “I thought you’d become a crying little mess on my chair.” He teased, making the two of you laugh. “I won’t lie, I thought so too.” You confessed, feeling him finish up putting a protective sterile bandage over your freshly inked tattoo.
“I wouldn’t have let that happen on my watch.” He said with a smirk, motioning to you with a finger for you to stand up. “Carefully.” He sternly said, giving you a pointed look. His voice had its usual coldness but also held a hint of affection in his tone.
That maybe the sexy tattooist might actually care about you.
You gave him a small smile, watching him begin to pack up his tattoo items and place them back into his closet. You followed Miguel’s words, cautiously rising up and off of the chair. You winced softly, your left cheek a little sore.
You walked over to the body mirror in Miguel’s tattoo room, turning around to admire the fresh inking on your rear through its sterile bandage.
It was beautiful…
Just like you thought.
The black rose was wonderfully sketched and etched onto your rear end. Its petals, pistils, and leaves, were all defined perfectly and coated the entirety of your left cheek.
You couldn’t stop looking at it, finding something else about it that you loved.
Large hands settled on your waist, snapping your attention from your tattooed bottom to up at the hot male through the mirror. He smirked, meeting your gaze through the glass. “It’s sexy, isn’t it?” He asked, caressing your sides as you smiled, nodding.
“You did really well, Miguel.” You complimented, both of your eyes, taking in the intricate linings of the rose on your rear. “I’m happy you like it.” He said, cupping your chin in his fingers to turn you to look up at him.
“But make sure you properly treat it every day. I’ll send you a list of aftercare instructions.” He said, his amber eyes taking in your face whilst he spoke. You bit your lip, nodding. “I will.” You replied. He smirked, glancing down at your lips before meeting your eyes once more.
“Good, now kiss me.” He said in his cold tone, but his amber eyes held a look of fondness in them. You smiled, cupping his face in your hands and leaning in to press your lips against his.
You moaned softly upon the impact, his metal lip rings, smooth and cold, only making the kiss even hotter. You passionately kissed his lips, savoring the feeling of his lip rings and the taste of his plush lips against your own.
When the two of you pulled away, breathing heavily from the heated exchange, he smirked, squeezing your waist before stepping back. “I hate to tell you this, but I have a client in the next 10 minutes.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But I’ll see you next time, Muñeca, for your check-up.” He smirked, handing you a business card with his contacts and the address of the Bloody Inks on it.
You smiled, taking the card from him, your hands touching during the small interaction that sent a spark straight through your being.
You couldn’t help but wonder if Miguel felt it too…
There was an unmistakable pull that was drawing you towards him. You didn’t want to leave him, despite only meeting him that day.
The desire to snuggle up in his muscular arms, to feel his touch on you once more was overwhelming, but he was right.
It was time for you to depart…
So after carefully getting dressed back into your panties and black shorts, you pressed one final kiss upon the sexy tattooist’s pierced lips. The kiss oddly felt unending, but not long enough when you finally pulled away from each other, leaving you, even more, hungrier for him than before.
You exited out of his room, walking through the tattoo space of the shared artists of Gwen and Hobie who thanked you for coming, to then leave the tattoo parlor altogether.
You walked down the sidewalk, feeling like a completely different person. You twirled the business card that Miguel gave you in between your fingers. A feeling of bursting adoration for the beautiful inking that adorned your left cheek, knowing it was created by the sexy tattooist.
To you, the stunning piece of art wasn’t just a tattoo.
No…
It was the marking of a memory of a day when a serious, cold, sexy, and dedicated artist came into your life, revealing a different side of yourself- a daring, more confident side that would forever be engraved in your mind.
As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel excited to see the sexy tattooist again, anxious for all the fun you and Miguel would get up to on your next visit to the Bloody Inks…
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed 'The Black Rose.' Make sure to like, comment, follow, and reblog!! Love you guys!
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@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages
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#miguel o'hara#spider man 2099#across the spiderverse#the blue panther#miguel ohara#miguel#miguel smut#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel x fem!reader#miguel o hara#atsv miguel#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel x reader#miguel x y/n#spiderman 2099#astv miguel#miguel x you#miguel x reader smut
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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part one
alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader
status: completed
(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]
word count: 1.1k
The thing was, you didn’t plan on getting laid tonight.
After a couple of days trying to settle in at Barcelona and looking for your lost luggage, all you wanted to do was to finally start your vacation. You just wanted to relax and experiencing the night life in Barcelona was definitely a good way to officially kick it off.
So there you were at the bar of an (apparently) exclusive night club in the city–the location was emailed to you by Derek with a VIP pass and a note that said, ‘have fun ;)’–nursing your second, half-empty glass of mojito, the speakers blasting rhythmic reggaeton music, when a woman slid into the space next to you, cool and confident with the way she leaned on her elbows against the counter as she gave the bartender her order in smooth spanish, “A gin rickey, please.”
The woman looked to be several years older than you–and taller, too, even with your heels on–and maybe it was the alcohol or the proximity but there was no stopping yourself from openly admiring her. Her black, cropped top and her tight, high-rise pants revealed perfectly broad shoulders and toned arms, as well as the taught lines of her stomach. When your eyes travelled back to her face, you found her looking at you with a raised brow and immediately, your cheeks warmed. The fact that you were gawking shamelessly and got caught doing so… just wow.
Words of apology were already on your tongue but the curves of her lips were mesmerising, the elegant slope of her brows distracting, and those eyes… the depth in them threatened to drown you that all coherent thought deserted you.
“Wow,” you breathed out.
“Excuse me?” Came the bemused question, an instant slap to the face that sobered you up immediately.
“I’m so–I’m sorry, that’s what I meant to say. I’m–” You palmed a hand over your face as you began but a small chuckle stopped you halfway. You risked a peek through your fingers and saw the woman with her lips to the glass, something akin to a teasing smirk on her face while she remained leaning on the counter by her hip.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” The woman asked as she took a sip from her drink.
Not really the question you were expecting but you’d rather take a reprieve over a disaster. And at that, you smiled sheepishly at her. “Is it that obvious?”
“Hmm, no, not really. Your slight accent gave you away but your Spanish is impressive.”
“I’m still working on losing it but I’ll take that as a win. I’m assuming you’re from around here?”
“My home town is about an hour away outside of the city but I stay here most of the time for work.”
“That must be nice, being close to home.” Feeling more at ease now, you sipped at your drink. The woman did the same. Then you continued. “So, what do you do?”
For a moment there was nothing but music and chatter as the woman regarded you with an unreadable expression. Her eyes glinted–with what exactly? curiosity?–her head cocked slightly to the side. Then she sipped at her drink again. Did you say something offensive? you wondered.
“I work between the sport stadiums. And you? Where is home and what brings you to Barcelona?”
It was clear from the vagueness of her answer that the stranger didn’t want to talk about her job and it didn’t help your growing interest for her. You wanted to ask her about further details but the dismissive tone with which she answered made you hold your tongue and her question, anyway, made you pause as you pondered to answer.
As an orphan who lived a few years in the system, the subject of where home was had always been a sore spot for you even if the stranger didn’t mean anything deeper by it. In some sense, your adoptive mom was home but there was always a part of you that longed for… something. But, of course, you couldn’t bring that up right now especially to someone you just met. So you just told her where you were from, that you were on vacation, and that you work as a photojournalist for a press agency you helped establish. Something in your answer must had piqued the woman’s interest because her brows shot up.
“Which branch do you work in?”
“Spot news. But I’ve been meaning to expand my portfolio and get into another branch. Maybe try sports or portrait?”
The woman hummed in appreciation. “Any sports in particular? Wait, do you even like sports?”
“I honestly know close to nothing so I haven’t made a decision yet, but it will definitely be women’s sports,” you replied. She nodded and sipped at her drink again, never breaking her gaze from yours and you felt your cheeks warm again. Those eyes… they were dangerous; they lit up every nerve in your body and it felt good. You continued. “What about you? Are you much of a sports person?”
And to your total bafflement, the woman beamed at you, radiant and glowing, dimples in her cheeks as mirth shone in her eyes.
“What?” you asked, a bit nervous and at somewhat of a loss.
The stranger let out a small chuckle, shook her head slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, an attempt to hide her smile. “Nothing, nothing. And yeah, I’m a big sports fan. Then a beat passed before she continued, “you ever thought of covering women’s football? There are plenty of matches happening in the domestic leagues right now.”
“Maybe I will,” you hummed, mulling it over. It sounded good actually. And then you asked, “what else do you suggest for someone to do in Barcelona?”
The woman downed her remaining drink and placed the empty glass on the counter. Before you knew it, you could feel the warmth of her breath against your ear and you shivered when she purred. “Dance, of course.”And then she was holding your hand, pulling you off of the stool you were on, and began dragging you to the direction of the dance floor.
All at once, warmth encompassed you: the crowd immediately swallowed you both, bodies pressed on you but the heat that emanated from the woman before you was the sole beacon for your attention. She had a loose arm around your waist and as the both of you danced to the music, you took that opportunity to wrap your arms around her neck and pulled her closer. She slowed down and she still had enough height on you that she had to lower her head.
“I never caught your name,” you spoke into her ear.
“I’m Ale,” she replied. She pulled back to smile down at you. And then, she kissed you.
#ap11#not proofread#mine#my writing#a/n: meant to be a oneshot but im posting it as parts now 🥲 ill combine everything once i finish and post it on ao3#meanwhile will reblog this to post future parts thats why the drop down is there ahahah#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader
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【 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄? 】
You watched with morbid fascination as Geto swallowed yet another cursed spirit whole. His cheeks bulged for a moment as the swirling orb disappeared down his throat. With a final gulp, it was gone.
He let out a small sigh. He turned to you with a polite smile. “Apologies, you had to see that. I know it’s not very appetizing.”
You blinked, shaking off your stupor. “Oh, no, no, it’s okay! I was just… curious.”
And curious you were. You had always wondered about his bizarre cursed technique. How could someone so polished and soft-spoken have such a gruesome ability?
You hesitated, wondering if your question would seem rude. But he had promised to answer any queries you had about him with patience.
“What… what do they taste like?” you finally asked. “The cursed spirits, I mean.”
Geto blinked, looking briefly surprised by the question. But he quickly smoothed his features back into an amiable smile.
“I suppose the closest description would be a rag soaked in vomit and shit,” he replied candidly. “Quite revolting, as you can imagine.”
“Ugh.. well, that's disgusting…” you couldn’t suppress a grimace at the vivid description. “I don't know how you can stand ingesting those things.”
He just let out an amused chuckle. “It’s not very enjoyable, I admit. But it’s a small price to pay for power.”
You nodded thoughtfully. Morbid curiosity still burning, you pressed on with your questioning.
“So… how many cursed spirits can you hold at once?”
“Several hundred, though it becomes difficult to manage after a certain point,” he answered.
“And where do you… store them after swallowing?” You felt your cheeks grow warm. It was such an odd thing to have to ask but you can’t help the curiosity.
But he doesn’t seem to be bothered. “I use my cursed energy to contain them in―let’s just call it―a pocket dimension within my body. Think of it as a stomach specially designed to hold cursed spirits.”
He smiled wryly before continuing, “It takes some getting used to. I endured many stomachaches in my early days absorbing curses.”
“That sounds awful! Do you still get sick from it sometimes?”
He waved a hand reassuringly. “Not anymore, don’t worry. My body has adapted quite well by now.”
“Well, please let me know if you ever feel unwell. I’ll make you some ginger tea for your stomach.”
Geto’s gaze softened at your attentiveness. “You’re too kind. I promise I will.”
Glad he wasn’t pushing himself too hard, you moved on to your next question. “Do all the cursed spirits have a similar flavor, or are there differences?”
At this, Geto looked a bit blank before briefly thinking. “Hmm, that’s a good question. I must admit I haven’t pondered it too deeply since the experience is unpleasant regardless. But some do seem more pungent than others.”
He tapped his chin. “Perhaps it has to do with the strength of their curses. The stronger they are, the more noxious the taste.”
You grimaced again. “I guess that makes sense. I don’t envy your taste buds.”
“It’s an acquired tolerance, to be sure.”
Seeing he didn’t mind satisfying your morbid curiosity, you pressed on. “When you release the curses to use them in battle, do you actually… throw them up?”
Geto burst out laughing at this, catching you off guard. It was the first time you had heard him laugh so freely.
“Goodness, what a vivid imagination you have,” he chuckled, mirth dancing in his eyes. “But no, I simply summon them from the dimensional pocket in my body. No need for such uncouth regurgitation.”
You felt your cheeks warm up again. “Oh, right, that makes more sense.” You giggled sheepishly at your foolish assumption.
He regards you warmly, “I don’t mind the questions, truly. It’s rather amusing since no one has ever asked such things before.”
You ducked your head, embarrassed but also pleased to glimpse this more casual, relaxed side of Geto. He was always so poised and formal.
Still, you had one final question lingering in your mind. “This might sound silly but… have you ever tried eating or drinking something tasty right after? You know, to get rid of the bad taste?”
“I can’t say I have… The thought never occurred to me.” He paused. “Perhaps a strong mint or ginger would help overwrite the unpleasant flavor.”
You tapped your fist into your palm excitedly. “Ohhh, I know! I’ll bring you candies or baked goods to eat after your next mission. Something sweet to counter all those nasty curses.”
Geto stared at you wordlessly. For a moment you worried you had offended him with your foolish suggestion. But then he threw his head back and laughed, full-bellied and gleeful. The rich, melodic sound made your heart skip a beat.
“You’re very considerate,” he finally said, wiping his eyes. “Offering sweets to improve the palatability of consuming cursed spirits―what a positively whimsical notion.”
He reached out and took your hand, bestowing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “While you don’t need to trouble yourself, I would never turn down a gift from your kind heart.”
You could only smile bashfully at his gesture. You knew his cursed technique troubled him at times, soured his pure visions. But it seemed even discussing the darker parts of his abilities didn’t dampen his spirits today.
Geto makes you feel safe to be curious.
#ღೋ𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊.#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x y/n#geto#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto#jujutsu kaisen geto#jujutsu kaisen geto suguru#jjk geto suguru#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto scenario#geto imagine#geto fanfiction#geto fic#geto suguru x female reader
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Corruption
💌 Pairing || Xavier x Reader
→ Slightly Suggestive ; Lowkey Yandere? Xavier ; Unestablished Relationship ; Quite Literal Opposite of Original! Xavier
🪄 :: No because the corrupted xavier fanarts are everywhere, and I can no longer stay quiet about it
"Found you.."
You were fighting a wanderer, and seems like the God of luck despise you today. You were injured, not too bad that you can't move. But the injuries do slow you down, you contacted the first person that came to mind, not knowing what exactly happened on his side.
And then there's a black shadow appeared before you within a blink of an eye, the next second the wanderer disappeared. You sighed in relief upon seeing, a familiar yet, also not familiar figure at the distance.
"... Xavier?— ..Why's your clothes all— black, now—? Wait no, that doesn't matter.. Thank y—" Before you could finish your sentence your figure is engulfing into his arms. "Shh.. I'll take care of you." And the next moment you're getting picked up bridal style, "Wh—?!?!! X, Xavier! You don't need to go this far—" "You can't walk, you'll only slow me down."
You pouted at his statement, but he's not entirely wrong either, with the injuries you have, you'll definitely slow him down. So you stayed still and quiet in his arms.
After walking for awhile, Xavier told you to close your eyes, only for you to open them and you're already at a different place. It's his apartment, he sat you down at the couch. "Stay." He said firm before leaving you all alone in the living room.
Something seems off from him, he seemed, much more.. bolder than usual? Also his bangs are covering his other eye, the light in his eyes seems dimmer than before. You frowned upon the discovery, and you snapped out of your pondering the moment you heard footsteps coming to where you are.
"..Let me see the injuries" Xavier said, as he kneeled before you, waiting for you to show him where your injuries are. "I- ..I can do it myself!—" You were about to grab the spray, he moved his hand out of your reach. "Show me the injuries where you can let me see" he said, you sighed and eventually showed him some spots and let him spray your wounds.
After he's done, he gave the spray to you and went back to his room, you looked at his retreating figure confusedly. And the next second he walked out empty handed, "I prepared a change of clothes, you can heal the rest of your wounds in my room, I'll be waiting for you out here" He started off.
"If you need help, call me"
. . .
You're now in his room, all alone. You stared at the spare clothes Xavier put on his bed, you frown at the sight. Your eyes slowly drifted down to the spray in your hold, you recalled on how Xavier behaved around you, how he spoke, how his voice sounded.. lower than usual too.
You shook the thoughts away as you tried to patch yourself up, but after awhile you seemed to struggle on one. So you sat at the edge of his bed, contemplates if you should call him or not. But your lips seemed to have a mind of its own, your voice echoed throughout the room, calling his name.
And then you heard footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, closer and closer, and eventually you heard a familiar voice behind the door. ".. What's wrong?" He asked oh so softly, "I, Uhm, I need help with something"
. . .
You don't know how you ended up in this situation, but your back facing Xavier, you're not wearing his shirt, you're only in your undergarment. But you did wear his pants. It's definitely, too long for you. But that aside, you're biting back a hiss upon Xavier applying ointment on your wounds on your back.
"..Okay, we're done" He said, you sighed in relief when you heard that. "Thank you Xavier.." You thanked him, but he was so quiet behind you. And when you're about to check up on him, he suddenly pulled you into his arms. "Xav—" You were about to call out his name, but then you felt something soft and warm at your nape.
It's his lips.
"Hmm.." He hummed softly, his arms wrapped slightly tighter around you. "Next time.." He sighed, "Bring me with you, okay? " He said, sounded like he demand you to do what he said to be precise. "But you're—" When you're about to retort you heard him grunt in disapproval, that made you shut up for a moment.
"Okay, fine.." "Good" He whispered huskily right next to your ear, making you shiver in his hold. "I don't want to see you in this state again in the future" his hand dangerously went down to your lower half, slowly sliding to your thighs. To inner thighs, "Xavier—.." Your breathing start to get ragged, "Hm?" He hummed back but his lips didn't stop.
His lips continue leaving trail of kisses, down from your earlobe, to your neck, to your shoulder. Sometimes even nibbling on your skin as he did so, "What?.." You glanced at his figure from the corner of your eyes. "W, what are you doing..." You asked, and your eyes immediately drifted down to where his hands are.
They have found their way to your inner thighs, gliding closer, dangerously closer to where you probably want him to touch. "Giving you love?.." He sounded unsure, and he stopped moving for one moment. Before he continue his onslaught on you, your breath hitched when he nibbled on your earlobe.
"Stay with me tonight" He whispered, "I'll take care of you.."
"...I promise I'll be gentle"
©littlestarconch
🪄 :: I am fine, live laugh love Xavier. I'll probably post something about Rafayel later.. maybe..
#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x you#lads x reader#lads#lnd xavier#xavier love and deepspace#love and deepspace xavier#xavier#xavier x reader#xavier lnd
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GET OVER HERE
— i don’t know what the plot of this is 🫶
——
Your phone's default ringtone goes off from its place on the coffee table. Your eyes shoot up from the book you're reading, and you see Harry's name appear, along with your lock screen, which is a candid picture of both of you. After bookmarking the page you were engrossed in, you reach forward and slide your thumb across the screen to answer.
"What's up?" you say, holding the phone to your ear.
"C'mere," Harry murmurs lowly on the other end.
You screw your face up and absentmindedly pick at a loose thread on your pants. "Why?"
"Because I need to discuss something with you."
A scoffed laugh escapes your mouth. He's literally in the room next to you, getting ready for the show, so you ask, "Can't you just text me or tell me right now?"
He's comically silent before uttering an innocent, high-pitched "No?"
You sigh loudly and rise from the comfy couch. As you hang up, you leave the lounge and traverse down the hall. It takes precisely seven steps to reach his private dressing room. The door is wide open, with aromatic cologne and quiet melodies wafting through.
Harry is the first thing you see. He's sitting comfortably in a canvas chair with only a towel around his waist and socks on his feet. The counter in front of him is a mess with hair products, cosmetic brushes, and face creams scattered on the surface. His phone lies on his lap, which means he's been talking to you on speaker.
You clear your throat, which causes him to turn his head and look at you. "What did you need to discuss with me?"
He meekly smiles. "Hi."
"What do you want?" you rephrase impatiently, wanting to return to your romance book. It was just getting steamy!
"Come closer," he says, glancing you up and down.
You notice that he hasn't moved his hands away from his face. They both unnaturally cup his cheeks, and you can't figure out why.
"Why are your hands like that?" you ask with suspicion.
His eyebrows scrunch together. "Like what?"
"You're being weird."
"You're being weird."
"We're not doing this," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Tell me what you need, or else I'm walking away. I have a book to finish."
Harry keeps his hands on his face and curls his pinky finger to beckon you closer. "Get over here."
Your heart flutters when he says it in a way that implies you might be in trouble. You rack your brain for anything that could have led him to call you and have you come to his dressing room.
As you slowly tread to him, his eyes don't leave yours. When you stand in front of him, his legs spread in invitation, and he says, "On my lap, baby."
You do as he commands and sit on his left thigh. One of his hands moves from his face to rest on your waist while the other stays put. He hasn't put his rings on yet, so his fingers feel bizarrely bare on your skin.
"What?" you whisper, your gaze curiously dancing over his face.
Harry leans back in his chair. "Wanna know why I'm covering my cheek?"
"Yeah. I've asked that already."
"Don't get sassy with me."
You swallow nervously. "Did you cut yourself while shaving?" you guess, knowing it's happened a few times before.
"Nope," he replies, tapping his fingers against his cheekbone. "Try again."
You purse your lips and ponder. "Hmm… do you have a zit?"
Harry runs his tongue across his teeth, obviously not amused. "You're on a roll today, aren't you?"
"Just tell me," you breathe out as your shoulders slump.
"You," he says while jerking the leg that you sit on, "gave me a hickey the other day. Right on my jaw where everyone can see."
You roll your lips in to try and hide your smile. "I'm so sorry."
Harry removes his hand, revealing a brownish-red mark on his jawbone from when the both of you were in a hotel suite in Tacoma. It's a known rule not to leave marks, especially since it's common for him to be photographed in the cities he visits. You take all the blame. You couldn't help it, really — it's nice to be a little greedy sometimes.
"Now I have to tell my makeup artist to cover it up," he mutters, his hand squeezing your ankle. "I have to come up with a stupid excuse and tell them that I punched myself or something."
You laugh. "That's a terrible excuse."
He tilts his head to the side and gives you a blank stare. "Oh, is it? Then would the culprit be so kind as to help me out?"
"Just say, I don't know, that you got hit by something thrown on stage."
Harry blinks three times before saying, "That's… actually a really good idea. Okay, you can leave now. Your work here is done. Discussion over."
You lean closer and whisper, "Where's my reward?"
He gives your ass a salacious squeeze. "Meet me in our suite tonight after the show. Better be on your best behavior."
——
#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles#adore-laur#get over here
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Gold Digger End
Summary: another for tuna CC end
A/N: as usual, you can vote for the next ending here. I combined this person, with a scenario that was requested... So.... 😁
Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another ending
"Grim! What the actual fuck?"
You had stumbled upon Grim's notebook, which was titled, "How to Marry Y/N off to Idia".
"Y/N! That's my super secret diary! Put it back!"
"Like hell it's your diary!" You snapped.
"Listen, Y/N," he climbed up your body, and cupped your cheeks with his paws, face stern, "it's time to face the facts. We are poor."
"I know that, but-"
You were cut off by a loud crash as the railing fell off the stairs, which was quickly followed by the collapse of the stairs themselves.
The two of you stared at the fallen stairway. Silent. Pondering. You shifted Grim to your hip, and picked up his fallen notebook.
"Are you sure Idia is our best option?"
"Technically, Leona has more money, but he's on an allowance. If he steps out of line, we're toast."
"But he's willing to work with us?"
"Are you asking if he wants you?" Grim laughed. "Yeah. You'd be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't want you in this school. It's a little concerning."
You flipped past Idia's pages, finding some final notes on Leona.
"Let me talk to him."
"Are you sure?" Grim couldn't help but be frightened by your change of heart.
"Grim, look at our stairway, and ask if I'm sure again."
You both looked back at the stairs.
"I'll call him and set up an appointment," Grim muttered, leaping out of your arms, and pulling Leona's file, which was hidden under the couch.
….
Leona was watching the both of you, smugly, from across his desk.
"I have to say, I'm a little surprised to see you here, herbivore. I thought you would still be living in denial."
You scowled over the rim of your glasses, that matched Grim's.
"Mr. Kingscholar-"
"Mr. kingscholar? What happened to kitty cat?"
You hid your flustered face by pushing your glasses back up your nose. But you didn't miss Grim's confused glance your way.
"Kitty cat?"
"Mr Kingscholar!" You cut him off. "We are willing to choose you as my lover and future husband, but we need to know that you will not blow it."
He leaned back in his chair, giving you a long, slow once over.
"Hmm."
He stood up, and walked to the window behind you, staring at the Savannaclaw courtyard.
"I can be a good little kitty cat. If it's for you."
You choked, and fiddled with your glasses again.
"How much do you need right now?"
He still wasn't looking at you, and it wasn't helping anything.
"Huh?"
"200,000 thaumarks to renovate the stairwell, and restabilize Ramshackle," Grim spoke up for you.
Leona pulled out his wallet, and filled out a check, handing it to Grim.
"Are there any contracts the two of us need to sign, little mouse? Maybe one that makes you promise not to fall in love with me?" Leona smirked, as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.
"I-" your tongue felt like lead, and you swallowed, before starting over, "I don't think that's a concern."
Your voice was completely cracked, but at least you got the statement out.
"Hmm," he said again, devilish smirk not leaving his face. "But you do plan to at least pretend to be my perfect little partner, yes?"
"That's the idea," you choked out.
"Hmm."
He had to stop saying hmm. You couldn't handle it.
"Well, in exchange for that 200 k, you'll join me at a charity ball tomorrow evening, and then let me hold you until we both fall asleep."
"Tomorrow?!? I don't have anything to-"
"I had a feeling Grim would have end up picking me, even if he didn't choose me first. I got you something to wear."
He walked over to his closet and pulled out a stunning outfit.
"Oh," you shifted in your seat. It would definitely look good on you. How long had he been planning this? And why were you getting so excited and flustered thinking about him, thinking about your future with him?
"Oh," he mocked, handing you the hanger. "Try that on so Ruggie can fit it if he has to. Bathroom is over there. Fuzzball, go get him." Leona pointed you towards the bathroom, and Grim towards the door.
Grim, needless to say, was very confused. But he fetched Ruggie anyway.
Just as they were about to reenter, Ruggie turned to Grim.
"Any chance you can get me a sugar mommy or daddy? I'm not picky, I'm into all of the above, you just have to find them for me."
Grim grinned, "Ten percent of your future allowance, and you got yourself a deal."
....
Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @peskygirl13 @loser-jpg @magnayuki88 @dragontamer222 @nicholas-andrew99
#twisted wonderland#for tuna#twisted wonderland x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#twst leona#leona kingscholar
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Bumpin' ~ Raphael x reader
One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader
Word count: 1k
Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)
A/N: a self-indulging one-shot I thought up for Raphie boy. thanks for reading!
__________
"Y/N, I'm boooooooored."
Michelangelo let out a long, drawn-out sigh and turned to look at you. You were both strewn about the living room of the lair, him on the floor and you on the couch. This time was normally used for your weekly Mortal Kombat sesh, but Donatello had shut off the lair's power to make a repair, so the two of you were forced to find an alternative activity. Which sounded like a simple task, but had since proven the opposite.
You mimicked your friend's long-drawn out sigh with a smirk on your face. "Yeah, I bet Don decided on purpose to do this right now," you replied. "Not that I blame him, we do get pretty loud when we game." You were laying on the couch as you spoke, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone's home screen and hoping that an app or notification would give you some sort of inspiration.
You thought for a moment as Mikey continued his mock sighs, which were rising in both volume and drama, before turning to him with an idea. "Hey Mikey, do you use Spotify to listen to music?" He looked to you again before pulling out his phone. "Yeah, team Spotify all the way! Why?"
You sat up with a new invigoration. "We should create a blended playlist!" You exclaimed, opening the app on your phone. "We can compare our music tastes and see what we have in common, it'll be fun!" Mikey sat up from his spot on the floor and handed you his phone with the Spotify app open. "Hell yeah, girl! I'm always in the mood to bump some tunes! Lemme go get my speaker." And with that, he took off to his room.
You got to work with both of your phones in your hand. When he returned, you hit shuffle on your blended playlist and the music started flowing from the speaker. You moved to sit next to him on the floor.
"When I look at the playlist story, it says we have a 56% music match." "Okaaaaaaay, that's not too bad," Mikey replied. "Where do we match up, dudette?" You tapped the screen again, showing him. "Our number one match is Tyler the Creator. That makes sense, I listen to him a lot!" "No way, me too!" Mikey exclaimed. "He's definitely one of my fave artists."
The two of you began chatting away and singing along to songs as they came up, while unknowingly summoning a third party.
"Poor Don'll never get the quiet time he wants," Raphael spoke, shaking his head as he walked into the living room from the dojo. His gruff voice startled you from behind and your heart rate increased, as it often did around the short-tempered brother. You had had a crush on him for a few months now, but were far too intimidated and nervous to make a move, so it went unaddressed. The turtle in question strolled over and plopped down on the couch, looking down at you both on the floor. "What're you two idiots doing, anyway?"
"We're just bumpin' some tunes, bro!" Mikey called, shaking his head to the beat of the song playing. "We're comparing our music tastes!" You excitedly said. "And actually, we're using a very technical algorithm, so this is in the name of science! Donnie couldn't argue with that," you grinned up to the turtle in red. Raph rolled his eyes but let a small smirk grace his features in return. Dork.
"Alright dollface. Since it's so impressive, show me how it works."
You explained the process to him as Mikey continued to jam to the music playing from his speaker. Raph listened and examined the blended playlist you had created. "Hmm... Y/N, see what ours would look like," he pondered, reaching for his phone. Again, your heart sped up, but you breathed out an "O-okay" and took his phone from him. As you tapped the screen, you ignored Mikey wiggling his brows at you in your peripheral vision, knowing about your feelings toward his brother.
When you finished, you gasped slightly, and turned the screen to Raph. "We're at 84%!!!" you squealed, showing him where your favorite artists intertwined. You scrolled through the playlist to see a mix of heavy metal, grunge, classic rock, R&B and rap. Tyler the Creator was also listed as one of your top matching artists.
"No way," the brute scoffed, leaning towards you so that he could look over your shoulder at your blended playlist. You both pointed out which songs were your favorite and why, and also chatted about the favorite artists you had in common. Your nerves eased as you connected with him, your heart thrumming at the realization that he was being... kind of vulnerable with you. You were getting to see a part of Raph that he had never shown you before.
All of the sudden, the song changed to 'Dogtooth' by Tyler the Creator, and Mikey jumped up, hollering. You gasped with joy, and you both looked to each other with excitement. "I love this song!!!" You both yelled, and then: "JINX!" You laughed hard as Mikey ran from the living room, yelling the lyrics at the top of his lungs, 100% looking to annoy his other older brothers.
As your laughing ceased and you turned back to Raph, you took in a quick breath as you realized how close you two were leaning in before the outburst. You were still on the floor, but had scooted towards his spot on the couch until you were practically leaning on his lap. You could feel his warm breath brush your face, and he got an amused look on his face as he gazed at you.
Your eyes widened naturally with the proximity, and after a moment of silence and staring at each other, you opened your mouth you speak. But before you could, Raph began rapping along to the song playing from Mikey's speaker, a growing smirk on his face and a unique glint in his hazel eyes as he watched you.
"She could ride my face, I don't want nothin' in return. Except for some her time and all her love, that's my concern. I'm tryna buy my neighbor's house..."
The eye contact he was giving you in this moment could only be described one way: heavy. And your face turned beet red. The closeness, his gaze, his smirk, the words- it was all too much for your poor heart to take.
"R-raph, w-what are you doing?"
"I'm just bumpin' some tunes, dollface."
#tmnt#tmnt bayverse#tmnt 2014#tmnt 2016#bayverse turtles#bayverse tmnt#bayverse raphael#bayverse raph#raph x reader#Raphael x reader#bayverse raph x reader#bayverse Raphael x reader#tmnt oneshot#tmnt imagine#imagine#x reader#oneshots#tmnt raphael#tmnt raph#tmnt donatello#tmnt donnie#tmnt leonardo#tmnt leo#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt mikey
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Sexual Harassment Training
Captain Price has a permanent scowl on his face today, it seems. You see him stomping around like a toddler on a rampage at lunch.
"What's got the Captain all bollocksed up? Did I say that, right?" Soap grins, then grimaces as he thinks about it. Standing together, you dump your trays before Soap leads you to the team meeting.
"Ya, doll, that's how you say it. He's like this every year. Mandatory sexual harassment training for everyone this afternoon." You ponder it for a minute.
"Why? Like, it's just something to sit through, right? It isn't like anyone is harassing our team."
He chuckles quietly and answers, "they aren't worried about the likes of me getting harassed, but that we will harass you, Princess." You elbow him and sit next to Ghost, who has saved you as seat per usual.
"Hey Luv, ready to be bored and insulted for a few hours?"
"Are these really that bad, Bruv?"
"They are, Crumpet. They really are."
"Hey! You need to address your coworkers with respect! Nicknames have no place in this organization, Mr..."
"Riley, Lieutenant Riley." Ghost stiffens up in his seat, restrained irritation pouring off of him. The woman from human resources turns toward you.
"Ma'am I have the form here to file a complaint when you feel up to it. No rush."
"Uhh... a complaint?" You stare at her in complete confusion as she brandishes a form at your face.
"Yes, no one should be treated with such disrespect. Talking down to coworkers is frowned upon." Her voice is condescendingly sweet, grating on your last nerve already. You stare at her for a moment before nodding, and Ghost tries to catch your eye, looking shocked.
"Pet... I mean, Sergeant. Do my nicknames make you feel uncomfortable? I will stop if they do. You never said anything, or I wouldn't have..."
"Hmm...? Oh no, but I will be filing a complaint." Turning toward the smirking woman, you ask, "what was your name again? Brenda McMasters? Perfect." You quickly fill out the paperwork before handing it over. She skims it with a smile, then freezes in place as she reads it more closely, her smile falling. She looks up at you, then back at the paper, reading it again and again as the words sink in.
"You- you can't file a complaint on me! I'm the one teaching you about sexual harassment! I'm here to make sure these brutes don't attack you!"
You shrug before responding, "I feel singled out by you due to my gender and your policing of the camaraderie between myself and my teammates. It is making me feel very uncomfortable, Ma'am." Her jaw is hanging open in complete shock.
You stand and turn to the Captain, watching you with a grin on his face at the front of the room. "I don't know if I feel comfortable being taught by someone who is sexist and clearly violating policy, Captain Price. May we request a different lecturer? I know it will mean rescheduling, but I don't think we should be learning about harassment from someone who has a complaint on file."
Captain Price has to smother his grin and bite back laughter at your innocent expression when Brenda turns toward him. "You are right, Sergeant. Ma'am, I will take that complaint and file it. It wouldn't be proper for you to file one on yourself, or it might go missing in transit." He gleefully plucks the paper from her hands and walks out. She follows, looking ill. You can hear her trying to get the Captain to stop and discuss the matter..
You lean on the table with a pleased look. "So, free afternoon, now. Any plans?" The team just stares at you, still processing what happened. You see Ghost staring down at the table and tap his hand. "You alright, Tiger?" He looks up, visibly distressed.
"The nicknames, do they bother you, Sergeant?" He needs to know now. The last thing anyone here wants is to disrespect you.
"Course not. Makes my day. The only things better are cuddling after a long day while we watch movies in the rec room or killing fucks on the field together. HR doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about, Bruv." Turning back to the rest of the team with a grin you say, "How about we sun up on Captain's grass? He won't be back for a bit anyway."
"You're playing with fire, Lamb. We're in."
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Protective Daddy
Pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Summary: Lewis and his partner decide to reveal their pregnancy to the world.
Word count: 889
After Lewis announced your pregnancy on Instagram, everyone's questions and assumptions have been answered.
A picture of your ultrasound and your belly with his face squished next to it.
Lewis is known for his private lifestyle, but he has recently felt the need to address rumors and accusations that have been circulating about him. Speculation has arisen regarding his involvement with certain models and allegations of cheating, including taking them back to hotels, among other things. However, none of these rumors are true, and Lewis felt it was time to clear the air.
On the other side of all that nonsense, you and Lewis have been together for a while now, five years to be exact. He has done some pretty good work on keeping things on the down-low. People knew who you were, but not enough to make too much noise. They knew you guys were dating; you've been seen in a few of the races and even outside the tracks.
But in these few months, people noticed your absence in some of them, and that's how the rumors started bubbling.
Lewis was seen with some people on and off the tracks due to mutual friends, but this caught the attention of paparazzi and gossip sites. As a result, people are slowly assuming that you either broke up or he was cheating.
During all the commotion, you were in Monaco, living the life in Lewis’ apartment. You were laying down on the bed, enjoying your pregnancy cravings.
However, after one too many instances of sneaking your hands into the cookie jar, Lewis caught you red-handed.
“Lew, can I please have one more cookie?” you asked with wide, begging eyes.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" he replied, taking the jar off the nightstand. You, already on edge from your hormones, did the only logical thing and start pouting.
"But..." your voice trailed off.
As you looked up at him then down at your belly, Lewis sighed, "Fine..."
“I love you, Lewis,” you said.
With a small hint of amusement in his voice, Lewis replied, "Are you just saying that because you want the cookies back?"
"No," you answered.
"Then what, my love?" he teases you. "Because if you don't have a good reason, I'm taking this back." while he holds the jar hostage.
"Because.... you.. are... such a good daddy to our baby for giving his mommy what she needs," you replied.
Lewis unable to hide the smile from spreading across his face.
"I'm the best daddy that our little one could have ever asked for," he agreed, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your cheek.
"So, what about that cookie now?" you asked.
"Hmm..." Lewis hummed in thought, his lips pursing as he pondered his answer.
"You know, maybe one more cookie wouldn't be so bad for mummy," he eventually conceded.
"Of course not," you replied happily.
While you enjoy your last cookie for today, Lewis is on his phone, and his face is obviously distraught.
"What is it?" you ask.
Still not looking at you, Lewis replies, "What is what?"
He seems annoyed whatever was on his phone and is waiting for you to elaborate.
"I know that look. What's wrong?" you ask.
With a sigh, Lewis finally looks over at you and runs a hand at the back of his neck. He pauses before answering.
"I've been reading these... rumors. People have been saying that I'm seen with other women and that we aren't together anymore."
"Well... were you with other women?" you ask.
With a sigh, Lewis leans back against the bed, crossing his arms across his chest. He seems to ponder your question before replying.
"No, I haven't been with other women."
After a moment, he continues, "At least... not in a physical sense. There have been some... conversations with other women, but nothing that should be considered cheating."
"Hmm," you say, curious.
After a few moments of silence, Lewis finally speaks to you again.
"Do you believe them?"
You smile at him. "Of course not. I think it's just that people don't know about my pregnancy, so now they're making up some weird rumors."
Lewis nods slowly, his expression softening as you reassure him.
"Good, my love," he says, using the affectionate term. "Let them talk. They don't know the truth."
Lewis then moves closer to you and wraps his arm around you.
"You and I... we know what is really happening."
"Yeah... but it bothers you," you say.
Lewis is quiet for a moment, then replies, "Of course it does."
He sighs and pulls you a bit closer to his larger frame.
"I may not show it, but I care very much about you, and what people say about us matters to me."
"I know, babe," you say, cradling his face and leaning in for a kiss.
Lewis smiles slightly and gently responds to your kiss, wrapping his hands around your waist.
He pulls you into his embrace, his lips gently pressing against yours while one of his hands rests on your stomach.
Lewis pauses for a moment as though contemplating something.
"I think we should tell everyone that you are pregnant with our child," he says softly.
He seems to be thinking about the consequences of such a public reveal.
"It's a big step, but it would stop the rumors in their tracks..."
"Are you sure?" you ask.
"I want it to be official. Not just between us, but for everyone else to know as well," he says.
Lewis's arms tighten around you.
"You are carrying my child, and I want the world to know," he whispers.
"Okay then," you say.
"Let's go tell the world about our little one," he says sweetly.
With one last kiss, Lewis pulls back and smiles at you.
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton fanfics#lewis hamilton fanfiction#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton blurb#sir lewis hamilton#f1 fandom#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#dad!lewis hamilton
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𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧
pairing. lee chan (dino) x reader
genre. fluff.
warnings. bestfriends to lovers trope, kissing
summary. "Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?", "Hmm, maybe I'll be a famous astronaut" Chan chuckled and asked. "That's cool, but what if... what if I was with you?"
word count. 1352
a/n. GUYS! MAESTRO. STREAM. NOW! I wasn't going to post this until later but i had to talk about maestro being such a masterpiece! i had to come here and talk! seventeen always hits hard with their comebacks! I'M CRYINGGGGG! BRB
m.list
The worn swing set creaked as Y/n pushed herself lazily back and forth, the setting sun casting a warm glow on the children's playground. Chan sat beside her, fiddling with a loose shoelace. They'd spent countless afternoons here, building forts, climbing the rusty monkey bars, and forging a friendship that transcended scraped knees and shared ice cream cones.
"Hey, Y/n," Chan started, his voice barely a whisper.
Y/n stopped swinging and tilted her head towards him. "Yeah?"
"Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?"
The question which seemed to come out of nowhere, hung in the air, a foreign concept to their ten-year-old minds. Ten years seemed like an eternity. Y/n pondered, kicking her legs out to propel the swing higher.
"Hmm, maybe I'll be a famous astronaut," she declared, her eyes sparkling with imaginary constellations. "I'll be exploring different planets, discovering new life forms."
Chan chuckled. "That's cool, but what if... what if I was with you?"
His question warmed Y/n's cheeks. "With me, on a spaceship?"
"No, silly," Chan mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "Just... with you, in general."
The sudden shift in seriousness surprised Y/n. She felt a flicker of something new ignite in her chest, something beyond the comfort of a best friend. It was a seed planted that day, buried beneath the innocence of childhood.
.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.
Years flew by like leaves in a whirlwind. They navigated the awkward middle school phase together, Chan with his ever-growing frame and Y/n with her blossoming self-confidence. High school brought a new wave of emotions. Y/n found herself stealing glances at Chan during lunch, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his jaw clenched in concentration while studying.
One lazy Sunday afternoon, while sprawled on the living room floor surrounded by college brochures, Y/n decided to play a prank.
"Hey, Chan," she nudged him playfully. "Rumor has it you've had this giant crush on someone since forever. True or false?"
Chan choked on his laughter, spitting out a stray Cheerio. "What?! Who told you that?"
Y/n smirked while building up a lie. "The gossip fairies, obviously. Come on, spill. Who's the lucky girl?"
Chan averted his gaze, cheeks flushing a familiar red. "It's... no one. Just a silly rumor."
"You're telling me that you've had zero crushes your entire life? That's bullshit. Tell me who it is." Chan remained stubbornly silent.
“It’s not like that” Chan shyly replied while burying his face on some random college brochure.
“Then tell me..” Y/N tried to tickle him, a playful war of wills unfolding between them.
.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.
College brought them to different cities, the constant physical connection severed. Yet, technology bridged the gap. Late-night phone calls, filled with laughter and whispered secrets, kept them close. One particularly lonely night, Y/n mustered up the courage to revisit their childhood question.
"Hey, Channie," she said, her voice soft over the phone line.
"Yeah, Y/n?"
"Do you remember when we were little, sitting on that old swing set?"
“Yeah, you said you wanted to be a famous astronaut” he softly laughed at the irony because you were studying to be a graphic designer.
“True, but do you remember what you said?” Y/n's heart hammered against her ribs.
That childhood question, once a whisper in the golden light of the setting sun, now hung heavy with unspoken emotions.
"Nope! No. No, I don't," Chan interjected a little too quickly.
Y/n chuckled. "Come on, don't play dumb. We were ten, talking about the future."
"Right, the future," Chan mumbled, his voice strained. "Look, it's getting late, we should probably—"
"Do you remember what you said?" Y/n pressed gently.
Silence. Then, a barely audible whisper, "Yeah, I remember."
"You said you wanted to be with me in the next ten years." The words hung heavy in the air, a shared memory dusted off after years.
"Y/n..."
A pause. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest. "Well, Chan?"
He was in love with her. The weight of that realisation both terrified and thrilled her. It was like a missing puzzle piece finally clicking into place.
.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.
They graduated, entered the 'real world', and found themselves back in the same city. Y/n, now a budding graphic designer, and Chan, pursuing his passion for music. They fell into a comfortable routine, spending weekends catching up, sharing dreams and anxieties.
One evening, walking home from their favourite ramen joint, the city lights painting the night sky, a comfortable silence settled between them. Suddenly, Chan stopped, turning towards her.
"Y/n," he began, his voice serious. "There's something I need to tell you."
Y/n's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"
He took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. "I... I've been wanting to tell you something for a long time," Chan finished, his voice barely a whisper. The streetlamp cast a golden glow on his face, highlighting the vulnerability in his eyes. Y/n, her own cheeks burning, felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.
"What is it, Chan?" she prompted, her voice barely above a whisper. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, with a rush that took his breath away, Chan blurted out, "I'm in love with you, Y/n. I have been for a long time."
The weight of years lifted from Y/n's shoulders. A soft smile played on her lips. "You just found out?" she teased, mirroring his confession from their phone call years ago.
Chan's surprised laugh was a relief in the tense air. "You... you already knew?"
Y/n nodded shyly. "Maybe a little bit." Their eyes locked, both hesitantly reaching out, fingers brushing against each other like a test of the waters. The touch sent a spark of electricity through them, a jolt that ignited a dormant fire.
Suddenly, a loud car horn blared, startling them apart. They both burst into laughter, the tension dissipating into nervous energy.
"So," Y/n said, a playful glint in her eyes, "what are you going to do about it?"
Chan grinned, his eyes twinkling with a newfound confidence. "Well, how about we start with this?"
Before Y/n could react, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a hesitant peck. It was a simple touch, barely a brush of skin, but it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.
They pulled back, both breathless. Y/n looked up at him, her eyes searching his. The spark was undeniable.
"Again," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
Chan didn't hesitate this time. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. His kiss was different this time, deeper, filled with unspoken emotions they had both kept buried for years. It was a meeting of finally acknowledged feelings, a slow burn igniting into a passionate dance.
They pulled away slowly, foreheads resting together. The night air buzzed with the unspoken promises hanging between them.
"Wow," Y/n breathed, a shaky smile on her lips.
"Yeah," Chan murmured, his voice husky. "Wow."
They stood there for a moment, lost in the afterglow of their first real kiss. The streetlight seemed to dim just a fraction, creating a world of their own under the city lights.
"So," Y/n began, a playful smile returning to her face. "Does this mean no more pretending you don't remember the swing set incident?"
Chan chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "Maybe I can make it up to you. Next time, the ten year plan will be a bit more specific."
Y/n laughed, leaning into him. "I like the sound of that."
Their future, once a fuzzy blur, was now starting to take shape, coloured by a newfound certainty. The childhood promise whispered on a swing set had finally blossomed into something real, a love story finally finding its voice.
As they walked hand-in-hand towards their home, the city lights twinkled above, a silent witness to the beginning of something beautiful – a love story ten years in the making.
#☁︎ snw writes#☁︎ seventeen#☁︎ snwprl#☁︎ lee chan#☁︎ dino#☁ imagines#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#seventeen dino x reader#dino#dino fluff#dino scenarios#dino x reader#svt dino#svt dino x reader#svt#lee chan x reader#lee chan#dino x you#dino x y/n#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen scenarios#seventeen carat
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NPC Life is the best
(Genshin Impact x gn reader - sagau)
(second person pov)
Part 1 —> Part 2 —> Part.3
————————————————
Now that your kaeya predicament was gone, it was finally time to decide what to do for a living.
to be honest, you didn’t have to worry about money since you were an accountant and had a few properties in real estate. So money just was never the problem.
but now that you’ve landed in teyvat it seems that all of your hard work has gone out into the gutter.
real estate didn’t seem like a good job considering-
well
the fact that you had barely enough mora for four more meals.
and accounting didn’t seem all that good either since the store managers in teyvat never seemed to need an accountant at all.
well unless if you wanted to work for the fatui and slave away while also having the chance of being hurt at any moment..
so past jobs just weren’t gonna cut it.
maybe a.. painter? You did paint as a hobby, but then again you didn’t have money for the costly supplies anymore..
oooo! Or maybe a baker? You did enjoy baking with your ex, but then again it was mostly him doing the work while you just stared at him lovesick..
mm.. maybe an adventurer? The pay seemed pretty good and you would get to explore all of teyvat at the same time. However.. the Khaenri’ah quests broke you so hurting a innocent hillichurl would probably break your heart..
who knew picking a job would be so hard?
as you grumble about what to do, a flyer from a nearby wall suddenly flys off gently and straight into your lap. A CHIBI drawing of a familiar figure prancing around piles of mora is dead center as the text above says
NEW!!!
Liben is back in town!! Those with valuable goods such as ores or whatever I’m craving- will be paid handsomely! If you wish to trade with me, please come next to the fruit stalls at the front gate if you wish to trade for a handsome amount of MORA!
teyvat has blessed you
Your holy savior is back in town!
but.. what could liben want today? Then again, his silly little flyer said it could be anything of value. Maybe you should try your luck at getting a precious ore! It shouldn’t be too hard right?
. . . . . . . . .
it was too easy
the moment you trekked out into a small cave near eagle coast was the moment you found two large emerald like ores that were easily plucked out. It was as if teyvat wanted to impress you in how it could bend to your wishes so easily.
you made your way back to mondstat and headed to the location Liben was usualy found.
weaving through the busy street you found yourself before the flamboyant looking man. He was as tall as you’d thought he be but with a very chill attitude just like his in game dialogue.
“Hi! My name is Y/n. I saw your flyer and I was wondering if you’d be interested in my ores” you show him your two ores which were as large as small watermelon.
“Hmm, these will certainly do. How about 1 million mora? These fine ores must cost a hefty price no?” Liben nods with professionalism.
“Mm.. how about 1.4 million mora?” You look up at him with a pitiful look. “I worked very hard to find these ores so it would be nice if you could raise the price a bit. Of course, if you don’t want to it’s fine.”
Liben ponders for a minute before diligently responding with “how about 1.3 million mora? Will that suffice Traveller?”
“Deal!” You look up at him happily.
“Good! Let’s set this trade then”
Liben proceeds to grab three hefty bags of mora and hands it over to you as you gently hand over your ores. As Liben hands you the bags of mora you can only ponder about how to fit the into your little pouch..
well that was until a backpack symbol popped up onto your pouch.. it seems like the bag you had stolen wasn’t any ordinary bag after all. Pressing on the symbol, the back pack screen popped up like in game. Liben didn’t react nor did anyone who was passing by. It seems like this screen was only visible to you.. how neat!
placing the mora into your inventory you see the mora bar fill up. Although you’re a little guilty about guild tripping Liben into giving you an extra 300k, times are hard and with such a good opportunity you must take it! Come on look at you now, 1.3 million mora would probably last you almost a life time in teyvat, but you can never be so sure. After all, being so stable with money in your old world sure puts you on your feet now that your hard earned fortunes are of no use. The more mora, the better!
. . . . . . . . . . .
Once you finished sharing small talk with Liben after your godly trade, you decided to explore the city of freedom.
it was about 3 pm now since you spent a few hours walking out to go find ores. Now that your stable with mora the flooding thoughts of being the creator really hit you.
Surprisingly, it hasn’t been on your mind at all. But now that you’re heading to the cathedral and the venti statue, the thoughts of being treated like a divine being throws shivers down your spine. While living in luxury would be a dream of some, being stuck in a cold and quiet throne room seems just as horrible as living on the cold streets.
now that you think about it, you haven’t heard talk about the creator at all. With how little you know about yourself you can’t help but be nervous. Is there an imposter on the throne? Do the people of teyvat sacrifice human beings in your name?
these thoughts can’t help but send another shiver down your spine as you finally reach the top of the long stairs.
the venti statue stood high in scale, obviously more magnificent then it could ever be in game. The crowd that surrounded the statue was much larger as well. With nuns preaching about lord barbatos and so forth.
you look at the cathedral to see another nun preaching, she seemed to be talking about the creator.. it’s best if you listen in on her words.
scurrying over you manage to find a nice spot amongst the large crowd of people.
“The divine creator has yet to descend but as diligent followers we mustn’t rush their return!” The nun says loudly as a few people cheer.
“Once they descend we will finally see their divine features, features not even the best scriptures could describe.”
“We will bathe them in gold like the color of their holy blood! And we shall never kill in their name lest we sully their robes!” The nun preaches like a zealot and the crowd yet again cheers.
well, that sure answers your question. At least the people don’t kill in your name.. you couldn’t be so sure about gods though.. well it’s better than everyone doing it, that’s for sure.
The nun also said that the creator hasn’t descended yet.. which means you’re not in the imposter au! Woo hoo! Now you surely have a better chance to live as an NPC.
walking away from the crowd you decide it’s best to go look for an inn. The gothe hotel is an obvious contender but it’s taken over by the fatui.. maybe you should walk around the city a little more and decide.
heading down the stairs to the town square you sit down on a bench, now realizing the toll of walking down the large amount of steps.. how do the locals do it *sigh*
unknown to you a certain soft spoken alchemist can’t help but be captured by the sight of you. With his interest peaked he walks over to you quietly without you noticing a thing.
“Excuse me, is it alright if I sketch you?”
——————————————————————
carp bread- wasn’t sure how I was supposed to write Liben 😔👆
#sagau x reader#genshin sagau#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin yandere#genshin impact#gender neutral reader#yandere albedo x reader#third post#mondstadt
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