#like i’m gettin notifications but like | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toxicanonymity · 9 months

Text

Parole.

3k words, joel miller x f!reader

Jojo playlist, joel master list, @toxicfics for notifs

SUMMARY: PWP. Phone sex and just-got-out-of-jail sex.

WARNINGS: I8+, dirty talk, jacking off, groping while driving, oral F receiving, Unsafe P in V intercourse, semi-public (bathroom). Reader can sit on a sink.

A/N: cellmate's nephew!Joel, part 3 of 3 (just 8k total) , follows Jailbird and Collect Calls but you just need to know his aunt Mabel is your cellmate. This is the last of Jailbird for the foreseeable future. It’s been a fun diversion. This is not the last of Jojo.

—---

All goes well at your parole hearing. After you get your 72 Hour release notice, you call Joel.

He answers the phone, "You're gettin' out," and you can hear his smile.

"How did you–did Mabel tell you?"

"Had a feeling. So what, 3 days now?" He opens and squirts the lube.

"9pm Monday."

"You just made my dick so hard, baby."

"Jojo. . ."

"Hmm?"

"God, sorry - Joel"

"Call me whatever ya want, jailbird. Mm. Call me joel, call me jojo--mm, call me call me any time baby”

“Can’t wait to be on the other side of that glass.”

"And I'm gonna pop that post-penny cherry" (post-penitentiary)

“Shhh”

"What they're gonna un-parole ya 'cause there’s a hard dick waitin’ for ya?"

“Well, I like the sound of that,” you purr.

“Oh we’re gonna get nasty, baby,” he breathes.

“Mmm”

“You wear thongs, g-strings, whatcha wear?” His fist slurps up and down his cock.

“Thongs,” you tell him. “Boy shorts if I wanna be comfy.”

“Damn. . . that ass in boy shorts? Whew.”

“How ‘bout you?”

“Boxer briefs.”

“Mm, shoulda known. Those tight-ass pants”

“Yeah, ya like’em?”

“Like how ya wear’em”

“How’s that”

“Packing somethin’ fat and juicy for me.”

He moans. “Fuck yeah i am, just for you baby”

“Just for me?”

“‘S’all for you, baby. How ya want it first?”

“Honey, I just want it.”

“Can i come inside ya?”

“Mmmm, yeah. . .”

“Fuck, i’m gonna pump you full,” his voice tells you he’s already close.

“You better.”

“Fuck yeah, baby.” His hand is moving faster. “Ohhh, fuck” He shudders and groans long and drawn out as he comes.

“Started without me didn’t ya”

“Wouldn’t do that,” he says in a transparently false tone.

“Hope ya can last longer than that,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he laughs. “Shit, maybe I can’t. ‘S’what ya do to me, baby.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Oh I’m grocery shoppin’ like it’s the apocalypse. Won’t have to leave the house for a week.”

—------

Mabel gives you one last poke-and-stick tattoo, a heart on your other hand, mirroring the location of your "clover." The last thing she tells you is, “He’s snipped, ya know. I took care of him after he did it. ”

“Nice.”

“Yeah, he knows he's not dad material," she explains, then lightens the mood with, "he's daddy, not dad," and a wink.

You're gonna miss her. But if things go well with Joel, you’ll see her again in a few months.

—----

Walking down the ramp from the tower toward the jail lobby, you can taste the freedom and almost forget what you’re wearing – booty skirt, platform heels, mesh crop top, fishnets.

His posture is what catches your eye first. Feet spread, arms crossed. Your eyes fall to his bulge then pan up to a white t-shirt struggling to contain the tattooed arms crossed in front of him. Gold chain, Adam's Apple. As his face comes into focus, he tilts his head back and squints, pursing his lips in a pained expression as he looks at you. His expression is enough to remind you what you’re wearing. By the time you reach him, he’s biting his lip, shaking his head at you with his eyes smiling.

He opens his arms and wraps around you for a full-body hug. He smells like fresh cologne, and he feels safe and comfortable. He feels like – ohhh, yeah, he’s already getting hard. You’re holding a plastic bag of your belongings—phone and keys—against his back.

“God damn,” he whispers into your hair and his pelvis subtly presses his growing arousal into you. He murmurs, “Mmm, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

He grabs your hand and your shoes click as you walk through the sliding doors to the parking lot. As soon as the doors slide closed behind you, he drops your hand and grabs your ass. His hand spans much more of your asscheek than you're used to. The beauty of the sky at dusk overwhelms you, even with the lights from the jail.

“Let’s make it to the car,” you laugh.

He puffs out his cheeks with an exhale and gets his keys out of his pocket with his free hand. Then he points to a big truck and unlocks it.

He opens the truck door for you and his hand on your ass helps you up into the seat. Oh the simple joy of getting in a vehicle. You start to grab the seatbelt, and he tells you, “nah, hold on a sec.” When he gets in the driver’s seat he slams up the center console, slides over and you turn to face him as he reaches you.

He grabs the back of your head and pulls your face into his. His tongue parts your lips and his mouth is minty. He sucks hard and gently chews your lips as he grabs your far thigh and puts it over his lap. Then he grabs you by both hips and pulls you all the way into his lap with your help so you’re straddling him. When your crotch meets the warm steel rod in his pants, you whimper and he sighs vocally. Then your mouths connect again. You’ve been dying of thirst and he’s a tall glass of water; you just can’t get enough.

His hands run down your fishnet thighs as you grind on him and make out. He playfully plucks one of the diamonds and murmurs in such a deep voice, “Thought ya weren’t wearin’ these, hmm?” Then he attacks your neck with his mouth, and you sigh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a Corrections Officer headed your way.

“Shit,” you say, “We should go.”

He groans.

“They're comin’, we gotta go,” you repeat and pry yourself off of him.

He takes a deep breath and his hips lift out of the seat as he adjusts himself, then scoots back over to the driver’s seat and buckles his seatbelt. You start to go back to the passenger seat and buckle yours, but he says, “get back over here.” He hands you the middle seatbelt.

—----

You tease, “we 'bout to peel outta here?”

"Buckle up, baby.”

He puts his hand behind you to back up. A whiff of his sweat under the cologne makes you want him even worse.

You awkwardly try to keep your hands to yourself. He’s the one driving, so you’ll let him initiate any distraction. "Where we headed?"

"How ‘bout we get ya some real food, ya hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

He gives a low whistle and says, “so could I, baby. can’t wait to taste ya." He looks at your legs. “Fuck.” He puts his hand on your thigh, a ring pressing into your skin. “Mmm.” His voice is so deep. “Been savin’ this just for me, huh?'' His wrist pushes your skirt out of the way as his hand slides toward your crotch. He finds your clit with ease, even while driving. He clearly knows what he’s doing and he could get you off like this in a minute or two, but he needs his hand back to make some turns.

You put your hand on his meaty thigh and ask “can I. . .”

“*can* you? Fuck yeah you can” He lifts his elbow, welcoming your hand to his lap.

You grab the bulge in his jeans and get a zap of need in your core. You slowly press your hand into his warm, hard package and feel the outline of his thick cock. You’re aching for him. You’re about to ask him to pull over when he puts on the blinker and see you’ve arrived at Waffle House.

“Here good?” He says as he pulls into a parking space.

“Hell yeah,” you answer.

He breathes a sigh of relief. “Cause if ya don’t like WaHo, we ain’t gonna work anyway.” You both unbuckle your seatbelts.

"Oh, here," you take your hand back as he reaches back behind the passenger seat, and your eyes glue to his huge bulge. He hands you a leather jacket, and says, “Just if ya want it.” It’s a little warm for it, but it’s a nice thought if you wanted to cover up. At WaHo, you don’t really care. That’s the magic of it. He reaches back behind the seat again and you glance at his earring. He returns with a target bag.

You peek into the bag. There’s a casual tank dress, flip flops, and . ..boy shorts. Your heart flutters that his dirty question led to such a wholesome gesture.

“You bought me clothes?”

“Yeah, coulda brought some’a Mabel’s but–”

“That could get weird”

“Yeah.”

—---

You walk in front of Jojo into the breezeway, then into the restaurant. No one bats an eye at how you’re dressed. You hold up the bag of clothes and ask, “Mind if I change ‘fore we eat?” A waitress behind the counter leans to the side to look around you, checks Jojo out and says, “get it, girl.”

“That’s what i’m talkin’ bout,” Jojo murmurs to you and gives her a wink.

Both the individual bathrooms are occupied. Joel stands with his back against the wall facing the bathrooms, so y’all are waiting out of view of the grill. You’re facing him. He grabs your ass with both hands, pulling you into him, massive erection straining his pants, yearning to get to you. His cock digs into your front. You kiss him and he kneads your butt cheeks as your mouths consume each other. He moans quietly into your mouth. His hard cock twitches against you.

He breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against your ear, then whispers “feel like i’m gonna die.”

A toilet flushes. The bathroom smells faintly of cleaning supplies, and it doesn’t look dirty. The illusion of cleanliness is enough to not think about it.

You wanna be right on top of him, but as he locks the door, you find yourself slowly taking a step backwards, watching him in anticipation, almost like you’re daring him to come after you and show you what he’s got. He looks at you darkly and prowls toward you, unbuckling his belt, lips parted, eyes dark like a stalking animal. You freeze. He unbuttons his jeans and walks until his hardness bumps into your thigh.

Then, at a faster pace, he walks you almost all the way to the sink, then grabs your butt to stop you. He hikes up your skirt so it's all the way over your ass. He grabs your ass with one hand and pulls you into him again. The strength of his erection through his exposed boxer briefs gives you another shock of arousal on top of your already desperate need. He pulls back his hips enough for his free hand to engulf your crotch. His thick middle finger presses down on the (very) damp spot in your leggings.

"Soaked for me, aren't ya?" The hand on your ass slides down and curls between your legs. His warm finger slips into one of the fishnet holes.

He uses both hands, one from the front and one from the back, to rip open the fishnets. “Fuck yeah,” he growls. The hand from the back returns to your asscheek, while the other hand remains between your legs. The side of his index finger meets your dripping seam. “Mmmmmm,” he slides his hand up and down for just a couple of seconds, then looks at the sink. “Think ya can sit up here?”

“mm. yeah, if you–”

He helps you onto the edge of the sink. You hold onto the sides and he immediately squats down with his head between your legs.

“Just fuck me,” you say, dying to have him inside you. Your walls are twitching as though your cunt is making a gimme gimme motion like a fist.

“i gotta taste ya," he mumbles as he spreads your thighs. “Sorry, just a sec.” He further rips the fishnets, exposing you to the cool air then sighs, “fuck,” as he reaches behind you to hold your ass. He whispers “just real quick,” his hot breath on your mound, before he plants his mouth on your cunt.

He licks at your entrance. “Mmmm,” he tongues and sucks your clit, then takes one hand off your ass to palm his boxer briefs.

You fist his hair, sighing, “Ohh God, I need that cock, baby. We got time for this later.” You’re physically aching to be filled.

He kisses your clit goodbye, then whispers, "god damn." He puts both hands on your thighs as he stands up. When he’s standing, he yanks his boxer briefs down and his naked cock bobs heavily, making you nearly drool. He’s shaved. It’s thick. Length-wise you might be able to take it. The girth will be a stretch.

He curls his fingers under your mesh crop top and you raise your arms as he discards it. “Fuck it, you’re changin’, right?” He tugs at your bra, and you take it off.

“Oh, fuck me,” he takes in the sight of your tits and can’t resist sucking a nipple into his mouth while palming the other.

You grab his cock. “Are you gonna put this in me tonight or nah?”

“God damn, you need it don’t ya?” He wraps an arm around you and you put your arms around his neck. He nudges you by the ass toward the edge.

“fuck just give it to me.”

He runs his swollen, mauve tip through your slick, then notches it at your entrance and plunges into you with a groan. You gasp as his girth spreads you apart. You can’t remember the last time you felt a stretch like this. But he pushes it right in. You’re so turned on, it works. You watch his cock disappear into you. You glance up at him to see his mouth hanging open with a sigh of relief as his tip nudges your cervix and makes you whole. He sucks in a deep breath as he retreats, then says “FUCK, that’s a nice cunt.”

His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your ass and he begins to fuck you. You pull up his shirt and it’s so tight that it stays where you leave it. He has a slutty little hip tattoo that says yeah. His lips latch onto yours as he buries his length in you again and again. It’s all sucking and biting and hot, humid breath as you moan against each other’s cheeks before your tongues are in each other’s mouths again. The bottom half of your face gets slobbery. He fucks you like he means it, grunting and moaning, “oh yeah.” Your bodies are dewy where your skin meets.

You wrap your legs around him. Your pelvis grinds against his and your orgasm is building. You tell him, “Don’t hold back”

“You want me to last?” He asks as he pumps in and out of you.

“In here?--ohhhh–time for that later”

“Oh, you already close, ain’t ya?” he speeds up and his chain bounces with the power of his motions. “Fuck yeah, baby, c’mere, c’,mon” His cock pistons into you. It’s even better than you imagined so many times in your pathetic excuse for a bed. Oh shit, will you really sleep together? The thought of it melts you. The thought of a real bed alone melts you, but with him, with this cock inches away, god this cock, it feels so, it’s so—A primal grunt comes from his chest. His heavy breathing and grinding against your clit have you on the edge ready to tip.

You whimper, “baby,” pinching your eyes shut.

He grips your ass harder and grinds his shaved pubic bone into you as he fucks you smooth and fast. He fucks like a porn star. “C’mon, jailbird.”

He buries his length in you even faster, then pleasure seizes your whole body and you come on his fat cock.

“Ohhhhh yeah, fuck yeah,” he breathes.

He thrusts into you a few more times, “fuck, baby,” then bottoms out and erupts. He sighs a long sigh as his warm release coats your insides.

“Mmmm,” you savor the pulse of his cock and you twitch with aftershocks. “Oh, god.” He hugs you and you rest your head on his chest while you both catch your breath. His chain feels massive on on your cheek.

Someone finally knocks on the door. He pulls out and helps you down off the sink.

“Someone in here,” he tells them. He pulls up his pants, then leans against the tile of the bathroom wall as he zips them up and fastens his belt while you change.

You thank him again for the clothes as you look in the mirror and turn around.

“Look good on ya. Guess I did alright.”

His face is flushed pink and his hair is a little messed up. He seems to notice you looking at his face and he pushes himself off the wall to look in the mirror. He rakes his hand through his hair, then scratches one side of his beard, turning away from the mirror.

–

You sit down for a late dinner. Neither of you look at the menu. Jojo orders cherry coke and a texas cheesesteak with double hashbrowns covered, smothered, and chunked. You order your favorite meal and he compliments it. Your eyes are on his forearms and tattoos. As he brings the sandwich to his mouth. God damn, how’d this fine ass man practically fall in your lap? You feel like you owe Mabel big time.

You ask, “You really go grocery shoppin’?”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles with his mouth full, nodding. “Mmm-hmm.” After he finishes chewing he washes it down with a sip of cherry coke, then adds, “but you know what i really want.” He looks at you darkly. “So tell me it’s all you can eat, baby.”

“Just for you, Jojo. . .”

-----

yeah he wants to be covered and smothered in that.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I love your passion and your comments and reblogs really motivate me. <333

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr.

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list ⚠️

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#cellmate's nephew!joel #CN!Joel Miller #CN!Joel #cellmate's nephew!joel miller #jojo ☠️#finally f*cking Friday #joel x reader

662 notes · View notes

avatar-saiki · 1 year

Text

Eye of the Tiger

Mammon/AFAB reader (you/your pronouns) 5.7k words

CW: NSFW, mating kink, overstimulation, squirting

Summary: Mammon borrows a headband from Levi as part of a costume to party with you up in the human realm, but things go awry when the headband is revealed to curse the user to be a kemonomimi for 12 hours.

Why did his luck always turn to shit when he was close to getting something great? It was supposed to be a fun night, just him and his human in the human world… partying it up all night long only to have them all to himself once the partying was done.

But instead…

“Check again,” he muttered under his breath, D.D.D. held close to his cheek while he paced. “There’s gotta be a way to fix me.”

“Dude.” Levi’s voice crackled through the speaker; inter-dimensional reception was always a bit spotty. “You asked me to look up how to dispel a curse. If you want me to figure out how to fix you that’s a whole other—"

“Shaddup you know what I meant!”

“I don’t think I like that attitude much. Maybe you should figure it out yourself.”

He tsked, catching a glimpse of himself reflected in the window. Still lookin’ sharp as always, but the little flutter atop his head was definitely not appreciated.

“You’re the one lendin’ me defective goods,” he snapped, “I thought otakus were supposed to take pride in gettin’ the good shit.”

Levi’s gasp crackled while he scowled at himself in the window.

“Oh excuse me? You’re lucky I even let you take anything when I caught you digging around my closet! Just for that I’m adding ten percent on top the finder’s fee for getting you out of this mess.”

“What?!” He glared at the screen. “Who’s the greedy one here? You or me?”

“Oh piss off.” Clattering computer keys accentuating his brother’s sass. “If I didn’t charge you for my assistance, I’d never get even a fraction of what you owe me back.”

“Ow, that hurts,” he said with a dramatic sigh, leaning against the window. “You’re my little brother, aren’t you supposed to wanna help me?”

Silence.

He checked the screen again to make sure the call didn’t drop, but the timer continued to tick away.

“… Levi?”

Nothing.

He clenched the D.D.D. tighter.

“Levi, if you hung up I swear I’m gonna—”

“ROFL did you really think that’d work? Your charms suck.”

“O-Oi!” He growled, “This ain’t funny! Quit actin' like me and tell me how to get them off already!” “Oh don’t think I’m trying to flatter you, I’m dead serious.”

A notification chirped in his ear and he swiped to check it.

“Authorize the transfer and I’ll tell you what I found.”

“6… 16,000 Grimm?! Are you crazy?!”

Levi’s laughter crackled again. “Well it’s either that or you’re on your own.”

He grit his teeth. “You tryin’ to extort me? You’re my little brother!”

“LOL as if you wouldn’t do the same if the roles were reversed.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but shut it instead.

“See? You can’t even lie and say you wouldn’t.”

“I never—”

The faint squeak of a turning faucet caught his attention, one of the ears atop his head tilting instinctively.

Dammit.

“So I take it you’re not interested then? If so I’ll be logging off. I have other things to take care of and you’re really eating into my grinding time to level up my latest gacha babes.”

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

16,000 Grimm…

He didn’t even know what to think of what Levi just said.

He couldn’t look.

Just…

He squeezed his eyes nearly shut and held the D.D.D. as far away from him as possible, holding his breath to type in the pin code and hit confirm. After a few seconds the confirmation chimed crystal clear and he felt himself die just a bit inside.

“Oh wow! You actually paid. LOL you must be desperate.” Ugh, he was not in the mood for this anymore. “Just tell me how to break the damn curse already!”

“Simple. You can’t.”

“What?! What do you mean I—” The faucet squeaked again and the gentle rain of the shower faded.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

He turned to face the window again, tucking the D.D.D. close and lowering his voice in a harsh whisper.

“Listen, Levi. You better not be tellin’ me you just made me pay for nothin’ or so help me—“

“Oh come off it, you owe me way more than 16K. You should be thanking me for only taking that much!”

“You didn’t even tell me how to fix it!”

Levi laughed. “Because you can’t, there’s nothing to fix!”

“Nothing to- Levi I have a fucking tail!”

“So? So do I. Sometimes.”

“Levi!”

Another laugh. “Look, relax. It’s a feature for cosplay. The headband’ll reappear and you’ll be able to take it off when the curse is done.” “R… Really?” He hated how relieved he sounded, but if it was just a feature… “Oh,” he sighed, “Okay, I can work with that. How long does it last?”

“Um… let me check…”

Mammon leaned forward again, inspecting his reflection while Levi’s keyboard clacked away, and reached up to pinch one of the ears to give it a tug, wincing.

Functional and attached all right. These stupid things were as real as his own two ears.

“Oh you’re in luck! The effect only last twelve hours.” “Oh that’s not so- twelve hours?!”

“Mhm~ what’d you pick again? A tiger? Apparently some lesser demons can get a little too into character when they wear these… better be careful to not lose control and eat our human now.”

He scoffed, “Like some stupid little curse is gonna make me—“

“I’ll tell Lucifer just in case. It might be smart to come home until the curse wears off.”

Wait! No—

“Levi don’t you dare—“

Click.

“Well that phone call sounded intense.”

He whirled around, startled to see them— his human— standing just outside the bathroom door, dressed in nothing but a white hotel robe.

“Everything okay?” You asked, tilting your head a bit to finish towel drying your hair.

“H-How much did you hear?”

“Mm… something about a curse. I know you were talking to Levi…” You turned back and tossed the towel onto the bathroom counter. “Was it about the ears?”

He reached up to cover his head, smacking himself with his D.D.D. in the process.

Why’d you have to smile like that.

He averted his gaze, sulking. “That damn otaku gave me some defective costume. He said I’ll be stuck like this for the rest of the night.”

“Aw… that’s too bad,” you said with a grin. “The whole night?”

“Y…Yeah…” He muttered and looked away. If the headband didn’t reappear again by morning, Levi better make damn sure he wasn’t home.

Who was he kidding though?

He wouldn’t do anything.

Well.

Actually he could probably do something.

Maybe figure out whatever the latest stupid collectible he was eyeing and snap up the last one before it—

“Could I…”

Your gentle voice nearly startled him out of his skin and he yelped. “W-When’d you get so close?”

You blinked, looking up at him in confusion. “Mammon, you have two sets of ears now. How did you not hear me coming?”

“I-I wasn’t paying attention!” He protested and you laughed, oh how you laughed. Was your laugh always so… exhilarating? His tail swished excitedly. It made his heart feel all light and funny.

“You’re so cute, Mamms,” you murmured, eyes sparkling with affection. “Can I pet you?”

He was already bowing his head, “Sure, anything you—“

Wait a minute.

He stood up straighter. “Wait- no! I ain’t some house cat!”

You giggled and reached up, wiggling your fingers, “Aw c’mon, please? You’ve let me before why can’t I now?”

He caught your wrists, about to tell you no again, but… the warmth of your skin…

Lesser demons can get a little… too into character.

But that didn’t mean him, right? He wasn’t some lesser demon, he was the Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed. One of the seven rulers of the Devildom. Surely he could resist some stupid little curse like this; he’d survived worse more times than he could count.

Even if…

“…Mammon?” You tilted your head, wrists relaxing in his grip. Always so trusting… so comfortable in his presence…

And your soul looked…

So…

“Mammon? Are you okay?”

He let go and stepped back, covering his mouth.

Better be careful to not lose control and eat our human now.

He inhaled deeply, your scent so light and intoxicating when he breathed in. Had it always been so… alluring? When had it become so… tempting? It was almost like the first time he saw your soul… that sparkle that drew him in like the brightest of gems. He’d never… thought he’d have trouble resisting your pull, but right now…

“Mammon?”

A gentle touch on his arm sparked a reaction, and he’d only realized what happened by the sound of your startled gasp, only to find you beneath him on the bed, robe askew and eyes gazing up at him in surprise.

“I-I—” He sat up on his knees with his hands up. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

Surprise became temptation captured in your smile, eyes sparkling with desire. “Isn’t that part of why we’re here?” You shifted on the bed, letting the robe open further to expose more of your chest, one of your legs lifting to caress his inner thigh. “It is just us here~”

Heat rushed to his face. “I-I want too, but…” He glanced away again, swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure if I… the curse might make me…” He couldn’t even say it, his tail curling around his legs while his ears tucked in his hair.

This sucked.

He was gonna borrow money from Levi twice as hard now to make up for this! After he’d worked his ass off for a month to get Lucifer to approve this private trip up and save up enough to pay for it all, now he had to spend the night as some stupid cat?!

You sat up, question soft. “Is it the curse?”

He glanced at you, then looked away again without a word, only a nod.

“Do you feel sick?”

“…No.”

“Oh, well that’s good.” Your sincerity made his heart flutter, but when he turned to look at you again it clenched.

You’d scooted further back up the bed, robe falling off your shoulder while you stretched to grab the remote.

“Why don’t we watch a movie instead?”

Your offer was so nonchalant and calm, it snapped him back to reality if only a little more. “Y-Yeah, sure…” he said, starting to crawl into bed, but you held up a hand to stop him with a laugh.

“Mammon, you’ve still got your shoes on. Why not get comfy first?”

“Oh, right…” He turned his back to you and sat down on the edge, face heating further.

This was going to be a long night.

“Did you want to shower before bed?” you asked while he leaned down to take off his shoes.

“Nah,” he sat up again and tossed his gloves on the floor, then shrugged off his vest. “I’ll just shower in the morning. I don’t wanna…” he trailed off, and you tugged his tail.

“Don’t wanna get your fur wet?”

“Hey!” He turned to retaliate, but fuck why did you have to look so tasty? He looked away again, stripping down to his boxers while your giggles tickled at his back.

Whatever.

He could do this. It wasn’t like this was the first time he’d been tempted by you before.

He climbed into bed and leaned back into the pile of pillows next to you, the plushness helping him relax. Yeah… Yeah just another comfy movie night, no biggie. Just him and you, no one else to barge in or try and get in the way. He could still salvage some of—

“Wh-What’re you doing?” He asked, tensing when you crawled over his legs and sat yourself between them, then scooted back and laid against his chest.

“Mm…” You nestled closer, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I thought this would be more comfy. Is this okay?”

Heat rushed to his face and much much lower.

“S-Sure—” he breathed, clenching his fists at his sides. “But ah… you should know the curse might make me…”

You shifted a bit, stealing a shaky breath from his lips.

“Don’t do that.”

“Why? Did I hurt you?”

“No, but you might make me wanna—” He bit his lip and tilted his head back, groaning under his breath when you snuggled closer.

“Mm… you’re always so cozy, Mammon.” You cooed, reaching out to rest your hands on his thighs, tracing your fingertips in light, nonsensical trails. “So… warm~”

“Y-Yeah….” He swallowed, feeling… trapped. His tail skittered against the bed, thumping in an effort to exercise his need.

“Does the curse make you want to hurt me?” you asked, touches gliding higher along his outer thighs.

“No…”

He could hear the smile in your voice, smell the scent of your skin usually so faint but now it clouded all other sense.

“You wanna eat me?”

His fists clutched the sheets.

“No.”

“Mm…” You shifted a bit, purposely backing your ass up against his groin. “You sure?”

He swallowed again.

“No…”

You laughed and leaned back, ceasing your touches. “Damn… that’s too bad.”

“Y…yeah…” he breathed out, stealing a glance down at you. Even without the glow of the TV screen he could make out your figure perfectly, settled comfortably between his thighs. Your eyes were bright, nothing but happiness sparkling in your soul.

Ugh.

You shifted again, just a little, making yourself comfortable with your head resting on his chest. He wasn’t familiar with any of the shows you were flipping through, but he was trying to pay attention to what flickered on screen. It wasn’t fair. Your body was so… warm… so… soft… he just wanted…

“Mammon?”

He froze, realizing he’d been nuzzling just above your ear, and breathed out a low laugh. “Y-Yeah?”

“Are you… hungry?”

“What? For like… room service? You wanna order something?”

You laughed softly and placed your hands on his thighs. “Maybe in a bit… I don’t want someone… interrupting us.”

He swallowed, tensing when your palms drifted higher. “I-Interruptin’ what?”

You tilted your head back with a small pout. “You know I can feel it, right?”

Heat rushed to his face and he looked away, your laugh only making him feel even hotter.

“Why’re you acting so shy? It’s just me~”

He tucked his ears back and clutched at the sheets. “Be… Because I want you…”

“You have me~”

“Y-Yeah but—”

You reached over to touch his hand, “Mammon, relax. You’re going to rip the sheets.”

“I… sorry,” He loosened his grip and bowed his head, breathing in your scent. “I’m… not… I won’t… eat ya…”

“I know,” you hummed, lacing your fingers with his. “Even with fangs and claws, you’re as gentle as a kitten aren’t you?”

He growled, tail swishing on the bed when you laughed again.

“Do you think you’ll lose control?”

He winced, feeling the question sting in his chest.

“N…No…”

“You sure?” You teased, lifting up his hand and holding it between both of yours. With the curse his nails had sharpened slightly, not enough to be considered claws, but if he wasn’t careful he could easily hurt you. You slouched and lifted his hand up, tracing your thumb along the edges of one nail, feeling its razor-sharp point. “Does the curse make you… want to?”

He shook his head and tried to snatch his hand back, but you held it firm.

“Your nails are so sharp…” you chuckled, “too bad there’s no clippers in the bathroom, huh?”

“Y-Yeah…”

You leaned to the side and glanced back at him with a coy grin. “You wanna have a little fun?”

He sucked in a breath. “I- we can’t tonight, I--”

Your grin turned mischievous, and you placed his hand on your chest. “Just don’t squeeze too hard~”

His chest felt tight as flutters stirred below, the softness of your breast so—

“I-I can’t,” he whispered, wanting to let go but your pleased sigh kept him still. “I could hurt ya…”

“You could always do that,” you mused, closing your eyes and reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck.

“Yeah, but—” He squeezed, nails pricking your skin and stealing a soft moan from your lips. Don’t do that. “I-It’s different! Tonight I might actually do it!”

You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, feeling for his new ears and rubbing them with your thumbs. “I don’t know if you could… even if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to!” He insisted, tail fluttering as he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you closer. “That’s the problem!”

“Is it?” Your breathing changed and you rubbed your thighs together, moaning softly while his heart pounded at your back.

Don’t do that.

Your scent was changing… becoming… heavier…

He tipped his head down again, brushing his bottom lip against the curve of your ear.

“Please…”

You giggled softly, letting one arm fall to rest over his. “See? You still say please~ doesn’t sound like it’s a problem to me.”

He groaned quietly, nipping your ear while kneading your chest until he felt your nipple begin to firm under his palm. Careful. Had to be careful. If he squeezed too hard he could cut you…had to be—

“Ah~ Mammon,” you breathed out happily, subtly pushing his other hand lower as you spread your legs. “Touch me more~”

“D… don’t do that,” he whined, closing his eyes and nuzzling closer. Every whimper, every shift in his lap, every waft of your scent tickling his nose was making him—

Your hand touched his, guiding his fingers down lower to touch wet.

“Won’t you help me?” you whispered, using his fingers to stroke yourself. “Just a little?”

He swallowed thickly, body tensing and fingers splaying out. “I… can’t…”

“Please, Mammon?” you whined, reaching a finger down between his to touch yourself, letting him feel the strokes as you pushed further in. “It’s so much better when you do it.”

He growled, tail swishing again while he felt you fuck yourself between his fingers. No. He couldn’t. No matter how much he wanted it. No matter how good you felt against him. No matter how good you smelled. How good it’d feel. How soft and warm you felt pressed up against him… your little tremors rubbing your backside against his—

“Wh- Mamm—”

You squealed in surprise at the sudden flip, but he didn’t give you much time to adjust. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up flush against his pelvis while his chest held you down.

“Ya gotta stop…” he whispered, his face pressed into the pillows beside yours. “I… I can’t…” He rubbed himself against the soft, wanting more.

“Oh… Mammon…” you breathed, reaching between your legs and feeling for him, palming his balls. “Yes you can…”

Don’t do that.

He bit his lip, groaning under his breath while he rubbed himself against your ass. It wasn’t much… wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“I could hurt ya…”

“You won’t~” you whispered back, giving his balls a gentle squeeze and making him groan. “I know you won’t.”

“G-Give me an order,” he said, “Make me stay back. Sleep on the couch, I dunno.”

“Is that what you want?” Your thumb stroked his sack and he loathed the cloth that dulled the sensation.

No.

He clenched his fists, tail swishing side to side while he humped into your palm.

“Tell me what you want, Mammon,” you whispered and he almost laughed. If this had been any other moment, it would’ve been the easiest request you could ever give him. But right now?

You rolled your hips back, using your ass to stroke his cock and shattering what little resolve he still clung to.

“If you really don’t want to… I can order you… but you have to tell me it’s what you want,” you said softly, “because… I want…”

Another roll and he—

You squeaked when he pressed his pelvis flush, knocked you into the pillows.

“I want you,” he murmured huskily, brushing his lips across the back of your neck. “I need you.”

“You can have me whenever you want me,” you whispered, pressing back against him, your slick beginning to soak through his boxers. “I’m always ready for you~”

He cursed under his breath, feeling you blindly attempting to pull him out. “I want ya so bad…”

You withdrew your hand, tucking your arms under your chest and letting your hips sway side to side to tease him. “I want you too, Mammon~ won’t you please give it to me?”

“Fuck.” It took everything in him to lift himself up on his knees, and everything more not to pounce again once he caught sight of your cunt spread before him, glistening with arousal. “Why’re you so wet already?”

You laughed, swaying your hips again. “What can I say? I’m needy.”

Needy…

Okay.

He could work with that.

He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. If he could just take care of you, you’d be satisfied enough to fall asleep and then he could try and find some way to calm down. Yeah.

Yeah that made sense.

He tapped his nails together.

Except he couldn’t…

Well, he could…

“Okay, hold on,” he murmured, lowering himself down to the bed and ducking his head between your thighs. Your surprise made him smile, and he laid on his back, looping an arm around your leg. “C’mere.”

“Oh hell yeah,” you whispered, spreading your legs and lowering yourself down. “You’re such a good boy.”

He chuckled, lifting his head to kiss you the moment you were within reach and moaning as the scent overloaded his brain. More. His tongue glided up your slit, making your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck,” you hissed, sitting up and rolling over his tongue. “Good boy.”

You’re damn right he was.

He let his eyes close, savoring the soft velvet feel on his tongue while he looped his arms around your legs, holding you steady. Soon your fingers found purchase in his hair, keeping him close. He moaned shamelessly when your ruts smothered him, making it hard to breathe… to think…

Only want…

“M-Mammon—” you stuttered, thighs tensing when his tongue circled over your entrance, taunting you with more. “Mammon, please—”

He let out a purr, resonating low in his chest, soothing his mate to let you know he’d heard. His tongue pushed inside and you let out a needy whimper, sinking your hips lower as if you could make him penetrate even deeper.

“Good boy,” you breathed, touching your clit and reaching up to squeeze your chest. “Don’t stop—”

He let his eyes open, gaze hazy and lustful. Your face was flush, fingers greedily massaging your clit while you gazed down at him, fucking yourself on his tongue.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered again, pinching your nipple and gasping under your breath. “Please… I’m close…”

He purred again and closed his eyes, tilting his chin up to lick up your slit and latch over your clit, suckling himself around you, fingers and all. You squealed and squeezed his head so hard it might’ve been deafening if it weren’t for the ears sitting atop his head.

“O-Oh, fuck, Mammon—” you keened, clutching his hair tight while your hips rut of their own accord. “Please-” you panted, “Please-please-ple—”

He moaned with you, feeling the twitch of your thighs tensing when a small wave of pleasure rocked through your core, satisfaction rising in his soul. That’s it… no one could make his mate feel this way~

“Oh… Mammon,” you breathed out, leaning forward to rest against the headboard. “That was— whoa!”

He tossed you aside as he sat up, licking his lips while you fumbled about. “You keep callin’ me a ‘good boy’,” he growled, stripping off his boxers and reaching for your legs before you could get too far away. “How many times do I gotta tell ya I ain’t a dog?”

Your eyes went straight to his cock, a soft gasp escaping your throat when he spread your legs. “Oh fuck…”

“Yeah,” he smirked, hooking your legs up around his hips while his tail swished smugly behind him. “Oh fuck.”

“M-Mammon, wait just a sec— you’re—”

He whisked you closer, pressing his cock into your heat with a low growl. “If you want me off, you’ll have to order me.”

You gasped again, reaching down to touch his lower abdomen. “N-No! I don’t— Just—fuck-!” Your last words came out in more of a moan, the thickness of his cock against your slit making you realize just what sort of predicament you were in.

“Ju…just go… slow…” you whispered, looking up at him with flushed cheeks. “Please?”

He tilted his head slightly, feigning consideration to tease you while he rolled his hips back, letting the head catch at your entrance.

“Go slow?” he repeated, sinking his hips down and watching as your lips parted in a silent cry. “But didn’t you say you were… needy?”

“O-Oh shit—” you whined, reaching for his wrists and clinging tight. “M-Mammon you’re— it’s too—”

Lust gripped his soul when your nails bit into his skin.

“You can take it,” he purred, leaning forward and pushing further in, watching your eyes roll back with a silent keen. “I know ya can.”

“M-Mammonnn…”

Your pathetic whines were always so precious; poor human struggling to take his cock~ He stopped himself, resting a hand on the bed and waiting for your breathing to steady before sinking further in, making your back arch and breath stilt yet again.

“You’re so tense… you gotta relax for me, treasure.”

“I’m trying,” you whined around a moan, shivers rolling through your body. “You’re so big.”

He laughed under his breath and eased his hips back, leaving just the tip inside. “Fine… I’ll let ya have a little break.”

Your grip tensed briefly, then relaxed off his arms, little indents left on his skin. “Good… good boy…” you whispered, and he chuckled again.

“You like praisin’ me, don’t ya?”

You breathed in deep, arms laying across your stomach as you gazed up at him with desire.

“Good boys… should be praised…”

His eyes lidded and he leaned forward on his hands, tail swishing side to side.

“You kept teasing me.”

Your hand reached up to clutch your breast, his hips sinking just a breath.

“Y…Yeah…”

“That ain’t nice you know,” he said, smiling more when your head tilted back. “You know what you do to me.”

“I know…” you breathed, gazing up at him with want. “… More…”

He pushed in further until your breathing hitched and your hands clung to him, tensing beneath him.

“You gotta relax, treasure~”

“I know,” you whined, hooking one of your legs around his hip. “Just… go slow…”

Still wanting more already?

“You’re greedy,” he murmured, pulling back only to rock back in, shallowly using his cock to stretch you while you whined beneath him.

“Needy,” you pouted, groaning when a soft clench squeezed around him. “Mmm-Mammon…”

“Needy,” he repeated, working you in gentle thrusts, your cunt so tight he could only fit himself halfway in. “Is that why you mess with me?”

You whined again and clung to his arm, lifting your hips to give him a better angle - or maybe it was more for yourself with the way you whimpered for him.

“It ain’t fair ya know,” he murmured, rocking faster when your walls became slick, tremors fluttering around his cock. “I didn’t wanna… risk losin’ control…”

“M-Mammon…” You breathed out, keening low as a soft ripple of pleasure radiated from within your core, making you even wetter.

He leaned forward, pushing himself in deeper and watching your eyes roll, nails biting his arms.

“I can’t even take my time to do all the things I wanna do to ya…” he whispered, grinning as you wordlessly tried to say his name. “Look at what ya do to me~”

“M-Mm-amm--”

He thrust in full, groaning under his breath when the shock made you tense around him again, your whines music to his ears while you squirmed.

“Too… too… big…”

“Well if you would’ve waited till the curse was over I could’ve taken my time,” he said, easing his hips back only to thrust in full again, making you whine so deliciously~

“Hhhhii—”

Again.

You moaned when he sank in, clinging to his arms desperately.

“I can’t even use my hands,” he said, digging his nails into the sheets while his balls slapped against your ass. “Y’know how much it drives me crazy waiting for you to be ready for me?”

Your eyes were hazy, gazing up at him with a lustful glow.

“Fuck… me…”

His heart soared at that… your face so…

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked, starting to thrust himself in deeper, steady strokes. Your fingers pinched his arms again, legs moving up to wrap around his hips.

“Was I goin’ too slow for you?”

Your brows furrowed, breath held in your throat.

“You asked me to, y’know~”

“M-Mamm-nn~”

“You can pinch me all you want~ but I’m still gonna make you cum.”

“M-Mah-fuh-mnn—”

Your walls began to quiver again, deeper this time with his full length thrusting inside. Ugh, your cunt was getting so wet. He closed his eyes and focused on that feeling, where it was contracting, squeezing…

“M-Mamm—!”

His name left your lips in a sharp keen, body clinging to him as you clenched tight around him, smearing his balls with your cum while he thrust in deep to give you something to really squeeze.

“That’s it…” he purred low in his throat, reveling in just how much tighter you could be when you came. “That’s what I was lookin’ for~”

“I… I….” You breathed out, unable to think or say anything more.

He slowly drew his hips back, reveling in the way you whimpered and squirmed again.

“N-No- don’t… mhhh…”

“What? Don’t move?” He thrust in, shivering as your cunt tensed in response. “After I warmed you up so nice?”

Your eyes drifted up to his, a hand rising up to touch your lips.

“Mam… Mammon…”

“You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t ya?” he purred, leaning more of his weight on his hands. “Show ya just how much I want ya?”

“Please…” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“That’s my treasure,” he whispered back, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’re my treasure.”

You groaned, hands flying to his arms again to cling when he started to move, already so tense and stimulated. He hadn’t even made you cum as hard as he wanted yet, poor thing~ he needed more from you.

“M-Mammon…” you stuttered out a low whine, only goading him on with your desperate keens. It didn’t take long for your walls to begin closing in again, tremors rippling down his length with every stroke.

And it was so wet.

“M-Mammon—”

“There ya go,” he whispered, thrusting faster. “You’re doin’ so good.”

“Mammon, please—”

He groaned under his breath, fucking into the wet heat with his own desire. Your whimpers, your pleas, your desperate graspings only added fuel to his fire.

“M-Mamm- I can’t,” you cried, “I’m gonna—”

He growled, clutching the sheets tight.

“M-Mammonn-!!”

You cried out in a broken sob, cumming hard on his cock. A possessive sense of pride swelled in his soul as your cunt squirted and squeezed, clamping around him so tight.

“There ya go,” he moaned, dropping onto his elbows and letting his pelvis slap with deep thrusts, your whimpers music to his ears.

“Mam- I can’t—” you panted, clutching at him. “I cah--”

Your walls quaked, threatening to collapse again.

“There ya go,” he growled, chasing that feeling and letting the pressure rise. Just a little more…

“M-Mamm—” you keened a desperate breath, eyes rolling back.

He moaned, feeling so close but he needed just a little more.

“M-Mah—” you panted, hands weakly clinging to him as other wave rolled through, legs shaking as tears formed in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the tight just what he needed to—

“Khck—” you keened, squeezing around him while he came hot inside, a thick throbbing roll emptying his load deep within your core.

Relief flooded his head, making thoughts light and dizzy. He moaned, nuzzling you lovingly while another pulse made your oversensitive walls twitch.

“That’s my treasure,” he murmured, a low purr resonating in his chest. Finally satisfied. “You did so good~”

Sweat clung to your brow, your chest heaving in deep breaths beneath him.

He chuckled, leaning in to nip at your ear. “You okay?”

“Hh… hold me…” you managed, arms loosely finding their way around his neck.

He smiled and slid his arms under your shoulders, nuzzling closer.

“Gladly~”

He laid with you until your heart no longer raced in your chest, and your breathing eventually slowed. Until your embrace became more, and you began to stroke his hair. He stayed with you nestled beneath him, blissed out and full of his scent, his cum.

He laid with you…

“Mm… Mammon?”

He lifted his head, gazing down at you with a slight tilt. “What is it?”

You smiled dazedly and cupped his cheek, drawing him in for a kiss.

“Love you~”

He felt himself start to blush, the curse’s effects still making him feel…

“Love you too,” he whispered, kissing you again. “But ah, careful with that. Don’t get me too excited.”

You laughed breathlessly. “Oh don’t tell me you could go again.”

He smirked, “I might~”

“Ugh, please no I’ll die.”

He laughed, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“No more tonight, promise.”

“Good,” you mumbled, hugging around his neck. “M’tired.”

“Wh… well you can’t sleep now, we gotta clean up.”

“Mm… in a minute…”

“But you’re… we’re all…”

You nuzzled into his neck, breath so soft and light.

“Later… ‘sides I… kinda like it…”

His face burned even hotter, and his tail swished side to side.

“Dammit…” he cursed, making you giggle. “Why you always gotta say what I wanna hear?”

“‘Cause I’m your treasure~” you teased, nuzzling yourself closer still. “Take care of me.”

He swallowed his skipping heart, suddenly finding it harder to resist wanting more.

“I promise,” he murmured, turning in to kiss your temple. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

“Does forever count?”

He chuckled fondly and closed his eyes, curling himself around you.

“Yeah, forever counts.”

#obey me smut #reader insert #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date #obeymeshallwedate #gender neutral reader #Started as something I wrote around Halloween then tried to finish sometime later then forgot about and decided to revive it #pretty much just a scenario to indulge in a mating kink with Mammon but the guy's got such self control it's hard to get him to lose it

640 notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 4 months

Text

Good Fences (Fluffuary #08)

FEB08: Love Letters

John’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He was staked out in the middle of the desert with the 141, keeping an eye on the Konni warehouse they were about to hit. His mind should have been on the mission, but all he could think about was his little lover waiting for him at home.

Feeling his phone vibrating in his pocket gave him an almost Pavlovian response. He knew it was her; he’d set the ringtone specifically so. His breath hitched in his chest, his heart raced, and his hand itched to reach into his pocket to check his notifications. The captain felt like an addict, but he didn’t care. He was hooked.

He sat down in the small alcove next to his gear and unlocked his cell. The red notification icon on his email taunted him. Before he opened the email, he checked over his shoulder to make sure no one would see the contents.

Dear John,

Just wanted to send you a message to let you know to expect three charges on your credit card. I paid your water bill, your gas bill, and I accidentally bought a movie on your Amazon Prime. I guess I forgot to log you out after our last movie night together. I have a whole week’s worth of movies for us to watch when you get back. Been keeping a list of the good ones.

I hope you’re doing well. I know you can’t always respond, but I miss you and I’m thinking about you all the time. It feels like you’re thinking about me, too, and I’m choosing to believe that it’s true. Stay safe.

Yours. xoxo

Over his shoulder, John felt Gaz’s eyes on his message, and he clicked the screen off before shoving the phone back in his pocket.

“Gettin’ updates from that neighbor girl, huh, Cap?” His sergeant quipped.

Ghost smiled from across the small enclosure,

“He’s been glued to that phone like he’s waitin’ on a call from the bloody queen herself.”

“Perhaps we should all mind our own business, then,” Price bristled.

“Did his lass send another message?” Johnny popped his head out of the doorway, talking around his toothbrush.

“Aye,” Ghost nodded, “But he’d like you not to notice, Sergeant.”

“Simon…” Price warned, hissing his name through his teeth.

“Oh, c’mon, Cap’n,” Soap begged, emerging from the room, “Show us her wee photo again. She looked so bonnie…”

Price rolled his eyes and took out his phone, opening his lock screen to show Soap his background photo. It was one she had taken of herself on her porch, showing off a new plant she’d “rescued” from the home goods store. She did indeed look quite fit, the captain thought to himself, gazing upon the photo with no small amount of longing.

“Jaysus,” Soap whistled, “We better rush through this fuckin’ op, boys. The captain has somewhere wayyyy more important to be.”

The young sergeant clapped his commander on the shoulder, ribbing him supportively, laughing a bit at Price’s obvious embarrassment.

John waited for all the nonsense to die down before opening his email to reply:

Hey love,

Shouldn’t be too long now. Thanks for taking care of things while I’m gone. Don’t worry about the Prime. Buy all the movies you like. In fact, you should get yourself something nice from me. It’d make me feel like I was there taking care of you.

I miss you so much, and you’re bloody fucking right about me thinking of you. It’s literally all I can do these days, and you’re always on my mind. Stay safe, pretty girl.

Yours. xxxx

John sent the message and fixed his eyes back on the warehouse. He stared into the battleground with a renewed purpose. The sergeant was right. He had much more important things waiting for him at home, and he was in a hurry to get back to her.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

#the californicationist does fluff #fluffuary 2024 #fluffuary #john price fluff #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x reader #captain price x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price x you #cod #cod fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mwii

185 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

Unexpected 50

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

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

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your promise to Lloyd is empty. You have no great urge to see Andy again. You’re embarrassed at the thought. Even a bit guilty as you accept that any sliver of excitement he brought to you has flown away. The return of your husband drags you back down to earth in the most desolating way.

You swipe away another notification. You don’t know how to reply to Andy. It doesn’t seem right to tell him over a text. Still, you can’t bring yourself to face him. Your last two conversations haven’t been exactly productive. How many times can you tell him this was never meant to be anything more than sex?

That’s when you feel rotten. You used him the same way you’ve been used. Just a release, a thing to make you feel better about yourself. Worse, he’s a widower. He’s lost so much already and now you’re toying with him. That’s hardly fair.

You sit with Luna on the floor. Getting down there was hard enough and you don’t want to ponder how you’ll get back up. She lays on her mat, raising her head to look around. She’s still needy but you see her changing. Maybe she sees the same in you with how she stares at you.

There’s a knock at the door. You brace yourself. You already know it isn’t Lloyd, he would just barge in. You know he hasn’t changed at all. Luna’s head bobbles as she tries to look around and you call for whoever it is to enter.

“Hey, we goin’ on that walk?” Harlen asks as he enters, already half-dressed for the dipping temperature. You notice the metallic red thermos in his hand, “I was hopin’ to get out.” He present the capped container, “got us some hot chocolate even.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” you make yourself smile, “yeah, that might be a good idea.”

“Here, let me help,” he sets the thermos down and crosses the room, offering his hand to haul you up.

“Go on, get ready,” he bids as he grunts, bending to pick up Luna from the floor, “oh, she gettin’ heavy.” He stands straight, “I need the workout anyhow.”

“I have a suit for her. Thermal,” you explain as you search the dresser against the nursery wall. The last few nights you’ve spent sleeping in the glider chair, your own fortress in a castle not your own.

“You let me worry about that,” he nears, rocking Luna in one arm as he takes the insulated outfit from you, “go get something warm on. You gotta take care of you too.”

You look at him. You nod. He’s the only man you can’t bring yourself to argue with, maybe because he’s the only one who’s ever really cared. You love that about him but it makes you think of your own dad and how he would rather his flask than to spend a single birthday with you.

“Right,” you surrender, “I won’t be long.”

You leave the nursery and head down to the guest room. The door is already unclasped but you don’t think much of it until you enter. You find Lloyd sat on the foot of the bed with the little crescent moon toy Luna likes so much. His eyes flick up as you sigh.

You ignore him and go to the closet. You take out an old sweatshirt and dig out some jeans from a drawer. You feel him watching you. You hear him get up and come closer as you take out a pair of wool socks.

“Gonna be Christmas soon enough…” he says.

“Oh shut up,” you snarl.

It’s his turn to sigh. He angles around to stand beside you, facing you, and puts the toy on the dresser. You walk away from him and he follows you towards the bathroom door. The very idea of him seeing how he ravaged your body, the stretchmarks and the loose skin, repulses you. You won’t give him that victory.

As you try to close the door in his face, he forces his foot between it and the frame, “you have to talk to me eventually. She’s my daughter. I have a legal right–”

“Why did you come back? I know it’s not because of her,” you lean on the door. He’s just as strong as ever. If he really wanted to, he could overpower you.

“You,” he says. “I was always going to come back–”

“No, no, no. Lloyd, enough lies. It’s over. You know that. Whatever made you want me, I’m not it anymore. So whoever you were out fucking, go back to them. You won’t get anything from me.”

“I didn’t–”

“Fuck. Off.”

You stomp his toe and he recoils. You take the opportunity to slam the door and flip the lock into place. You keep your hand on the door and catch your breath. You hear him on the other side, lingering, the friction of his touch dragging down the other side.

“Peaches…” he says.

You scoff and push away. You go to the counter and put down the armful of clothes. You look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t even feel bad for yourself, you feel worse that Luna has to call someone like him a father.

🍑

You meet Harlan downstairs. He has Luna bundled up and helps you get her strapped into the baby carrier that hooks over your shoulders. It’s much easier than the stroller, if not a bit of a strain on your back.

He tucks the thermos into the large pocket of his coat and opens the door for you. He trails you outside into the brisk air of late autumn. The chill nips at your cheeks and nose as you adjust Luna’s hood to make sure she’s cozy.

“Thanksgiving soon. Dot was talkin’ bout it,” he says as you walk down the long driveway, “she talkin’ a lot lately. Driving me a bit crazy.”

“Oh,” you raise your brows dully. You haven’t said much to her. You resent her for all those weeks of sticking up for her son and her tune hasn’t changed, “yeah, maybe… get a turkey.”

“Ha, come on, what are we gon’ do? Sit down for a family dinner? She just wants peace but she won’t acknowledge the battle,” he puffs as he takes out the thermos and untwists the cap. “Here?”

He offers you a drink first. You stop awkwardly to sip from the brim and thank him. He takes a gulp of his own and hums.

“Not too bad,” he comments, “was of a mind to add some whiskey but we’ll save that for later.”

You chuckle and shake your head. You set off down the sidewalk, keeping a hand on the bottom of the carrier as you make slow progress. It’s the sort of cold that wakes you up. It reminds you of the day you met Lloyd and you scowl. A year. More than.

As you come to the end of the street, someone turns the corner. You don’t pretend to be surprised as Andy approaches. He wears a navy cap, his hair poking out from the hem, and his cheeks are rosy above his thick beard. He smiles as he nears, even as his eye twitches.

“Morning,” he greets brightly, “how’s little Luna?”

You slow as he glances at the baby in her harness. You sway with her as she babbles.

“She’s good,” you answer as Harlan clears his throat. You sniff as you try to roll the tension out of your shoulders, “oh, Andy, this is my… dad, Harlan. Harlan, Andy. The neighbour.”

“Sir,” Andy smiles and offers his hand, “nice to meet you. You must be so proud of your daughter. And granddaughter. A beautiful pair, huh?”

“Beaming,” Harlan shakes his hand gruffly, “couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Well, uh, I was actually gonna pop in. I found some more baby stuff and thought maybe you could use it,” Andy rescinds his hand, tucking it in his jacket pocket. “I could watch Luna if you want. Give you some time off.”

“Oh, Andy, that’s sweet but… I got all the help I need,” you peek over at Harlan. “I appreciate everything but I hate to take advantage of your kindness.”

“It’s no problem. Really. I don’t mind,” Andy insists, only girding himself as his eyes flit to Harlan and he squares his shoulder, “just putting it out there.”

“I’ll… I’ll keep you in mind,” you utter awkwardly.

Harlan’s silent. You don’t have the courage to look at him. You can feel the tension radiating off of him. He’s shielded in that cool stoicism that once made you feel so small.

“Well, you know my number,” Andy shrugs, “I’m sure you can figure out how to reply to my texts,” he steps forward, gazing at Luna as he coos, surprising you as he bends to kiss the top of her head, “buh bye, Luna.” He grins, his eyes meeting yours as he stands at his full height, “pretty, just like mommy.” He nods and looks past you to Harlan, “try to stay warm out here.”

Andy struts past as you step aside. You hesitate before you continue on, quiet as Harlan lets a hum roll up his throat. He clucks and cranes to peer over his shoulder.

“That’s him?” He asks. You can only nod, staring down in shame. “Ah, well… you keep space from him… for yourself. Man’s got something ‘bout him…. Something off.”

“I… I’ve been ignoring him so…”

“No, no,” Harlan intones, “no, ain’t nothing ‘bout you.”

You stroll on, the uneasiness in his timbre crawling over you in goosebumps. You look down at Luna and run your hand up the back of the carrier, embracing her a little closer. Andy could be a little overbearing but he’s harmless, right?

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #series #unexpected #au #the gray man #defending jacob

311 notes · View notes

squidflavoredsoup · 3 months

Note

This may seem stupid lol, but how did u make the Brozone keychains? And are you selling them?

ur fine dw lol

i mean gettin thems pretty easy i just make the designs and i send em off to somethin like vograce- for example- and they make em

i obviously couldn’t as i don’t have the equipment for it so yk

anyway that’s how i get the physical keychains made and as for selling

i’ve said this in a few comments but i should say it in n actual post lol

yes i am selling them! i’m setting up a little shop to start doing pre-orders! so set up notifs for my page here or on tt orr u could follow me on twt were i post more (links to my other socials in my cards on my pinned) for updates on that

i ain’t sayin ya gotta follow me there it’s just that im a lil slow posting anywhere else so ur more likely to get an update quicker outta me from twt

anywayyyy BUT BUT BUT

along w the brozone keychains there will be another option!!

n i’m preeettttyyy sure u can probs tell who else is getting a keychain

56 notes · View notes

pieroulette · 1 year

Text

CAMELLIA'S FATE

"Would you come?"

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT × 6k | TATTOOIST! PARK JAY × READER

SUMMARY was it a string of fate when your bestfriend claimed your art as her own, that not even after six years does it suffice the desire for revenge blooming in your heart, claiming it as a call for making it even—that you stumble upon a tattoo studio, and your eyes falling upon the same flower on a young man's neck.

WARNING/GENRE emptiness, lost of passion (?), slight profanity, angst, fluff, romance, reader is a painter!

AUTHOR'S NOTE a short story I wrote during a period of writing and art block. well, it ain't that short anymore 💀

“Huh.. What should I do?” You pouted with your head buried deep inside your arms as another art block hit you like a truck.

Studies had by far consumed your life to the point you couldn’t grab the paintbrush between your fingers and create something, and now that the semester had ended, that you had free time laid across in front of you like a vast ocean waiting for you to swim through it, you couldn’t.

It was as if something is holding you back which had you wondering if this was the end for your childhood passion?

Draw something simple. You thought. But it seriously ain’t that simple to brush the tips of your paintbrush against the gigantic canvas. Still.. You lowered your neck, utimately focusing your orbs onto your paper, hoping or waiting for something to come out of it.

What would it be? A person? A furniture? The nightsky? The empty can on the edge of the desk beside you? What is it?

Your finger swayed the paintbrush across the canvas over and over again but to your dismay, nothing came out of it — only scribbles of something you couldn’t comprehend, in which you originally thought of a house.

Your phone's screen turns on with a notification popping up along the lockscreen.

[11:49PM] Somi<3: hiyaa, the competition’s gettin close :( i’m nervous

[11:49PM] you: that’s fine *patpat* you’re so good at art, pretty sure you’ll get top 1 yk

[11:56PM] Somi<3: reallyyy? ><

[11:57PM] you: ofc ofc, now just get to your hmw and just keep practicing :3

The flamboyant flower showcasing it’s magnificent beauty up on the ceiling, the engraved pattern across your ceilings, you remember that you once stepped on the ladder when your parents were renovating your room and you took the chance to did so despite the danger. Painting over the ceiling with the pink-stained paint brush between your tiny fingers, with a smile so wide and bright, eyes crinkling to half moons as you did so.

Well, the flower you drew turn out horrible to say the least, with the outline wavery and inconsistent, the colours were not bold enough on some parts and some of them going past the outline.

Eyebrows twitching upon the sight, you scoffed in a lighthearted laugh. No matter how ugly it was to be honest, it had managed to stay that long.

Long enough to not be erased by the changes of time, the plants grew old, the furniture had their paints peeled off, the tv in the living room had begun glitch off, the store you’ve been to had been shut down for whatever reason, and even the star in the sky exploded to ashes when the time has come. But for whatever reason it has, the flower you drew on the ceiling yet still manage to look as beautiful as ever. You let out a giggle at the thought of that maybe the drawn flower had a purpose that’s why it was still boldly alive in sight.

Without much thought and the smile still ever so bright on your lips, you begun to draw on the paper with the flower in thought—wishing for your efforts to pay off, cause that's how it works right?

However, jokes on you, your efforts was futile.

Truly futile.

Your vision turning into a field of vagueness as your tears drowned you into the deep ocean — those that held spike up thorns below the sea.

Why are you crying? Why aren’t you fighting back?

Tightening your fist so tight that your nails began to hurt your palms, there was nothing really left to fight back anymore since you aint got nothing left anymore when the fruits of your efforts were ripped away from you with no mercy nor one glance of contempt for all of their eyes were on—

Her.

“Somi! Congratulations! You did really well!”

A giggle so loud and so annoying it clutches your heart within, there she was in her brightest glory; bouquets of flowers beneath her arms, bright blonde silk hair going down her uniform skirt—those that you once brushed with a hair comb back then. That piece of beige hairband that had the signature butterfly pattern on it, one that matched with the one on your hair right now.

Seeing her gave you nothing but resentment and anger.

One by one, each and one of them in line up in the stage as they congratulated her for winning the top prize of the masterpiece of an art, something she said was her own.

Bullshit. It wasn't yours. Thus you screamed in the back of your mind, head so low you could see nothing but your tears staining the red carpeted floor. The raging applause submerging you into more pain, pain and pain! You couldn’t take it anymore, the scene that mocks you to your very core; the girl that you claim as your bestfriend stole everything from you and yet, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up and walk straight to her and give her a piece of your mind.

For it’s no use, the only thing it would do was ruin your reputation and you can’t do that. You know you can’t do that. You can’t..

You stood up on your feet with eyes glaring deep at the girl herself, who in turn finally noticed you after awhile. Your breath hitched in so deep when you observed the corner of her lips tugging up to her cheeks, and her brown orbs stared at you in a mere contempt.

That alone was sufficient for one sentence to arise inside your starving soul for revenge, You’ll fall. Just like that flower behind you. One day you will.

At last, you turned your back out of spite–full in rage as you did so. With the spectacle of a scene behind you holding a thousand emotions of joy, flashes of camera filled the entire room.

“Somi! Look at here!”

“1, 2..” flashes of the camera consumed the entire space every few seconds, “3!”

“The painting truly is breathtaking, isn’t?” two women from behind marvels at the colossal canvas before them.

“Truly it is, that painter is so talented it’s making me jealous.” The other in turn, giggled.

“Well, it does takes an effort to reach such prestigious level.”

You returned home, dropping your bag on the ground as you did so, taking the jug to pour a water in the glass. The dim light from outside reflected against the glass, forming a sea-like diamonds. But you knew, it didn’t came from the glass.

Your source of inspiration, your muse. All was vain, truly futile. Hoping that it would turn out well. Except it didn’t turn well.

Your very source of inspiration and effort had been stolen, now leaving you with nothing but emptiness. You were nothing and you had nothing now.

The wooden paintbrush snapped into separate pieces as you smashed it against the floor, a mockery metaphor of yourself. It has been months. Months it was since that incident occured and ever since then you couldn’t find the heart to lay the tip of the paintbrush against the canvas anymore.

As if something was missing from your heart, what is this? It felt like you no longer have the love for painting anymore, it felt like there was nothing to let out anymore even when you have dozens and dozens of ideas kept hidden in your journal, something you occasionally wrote onto whenever you had burst of ideas.

And yet, when you took them out, when you tried to paint again—there was no beat that rang through your ears and hug your heart. It’s suffocating. It’s too empty.

“I don’t like.. To paint anymore?..” a question you laid out against yourself, merely vibrating through the entire studio. Your dark orbs fell on your palms as you splayed it before you, “Please.. Come back.”

“Give it up, (Name). There’s no way you could do anything against her parents..” your classmate mumbled as she took another bite from her ice cream. "You can always make another painting again?"

Those words rang deep in your mind, mocking your very soul. It ain't that easy. Pouring your entire soul to a creating a piece is like raising your own child with utmost affection and care, and to have it mercilessly rip apart from you is akin to ripping your soul away as well.

A hollow, hollow hole inside your body that you were unable to see—only grew even bigger and wider.

Weeping in the corner of your room, as you buried your face in comfort of your arms. “W-was it my fate that it had to be this way?”

「6 YEARS LATER」

“I apologise but we don’t take any customers who don’t do an appointment first.” the man apologetically bow down, surprised you were but didn’t protest.

How could you? You gulped down your throat in embarrassment as your orbs darted around the studio's signboard;

Quite a bit embarrassed to say the least that you didn’t plan it first but what can you do? You bow down parallel to the ground, turning towards the street as impatience consumed you. You raise your wrist, staring at your watch with the small arrow pointing towards 11 am—a few hours left before 4pm—the ticking clock signifying the end.

You couldn't afford to wait another week and find another tattoo store. Not anymore.

It has been 6 years since that fateful day, a horrendous fate you simply wishes you could forget but life is too miserable to let you to even do so—not when your eyes fell on the devil—your ex best-friend's face was splattered on the billboard, interviews, offers, every single thing had her on the pinnacle of the world.

Because of your artwork. From the very beginning, it’s not that she wasn’t good at art, heck she was talented in it but didn’t care enough to put an effort for the final competition. She even told you and persuade you to join instead, but foolish you were that you didn’t realise she was a double edge sword. Two parts of you were wishing for her demise, and another wishing that she would soon realise her mistake and come begging at you but you know that won’t happen.

The world, and it’s people are far too prideful to admit their mistakes, after all. We all trample on each other, and only very few people can manage to be selfless. It’s not that being selfish is bad, nor being selfless is—and there will be a time where we are forced to put ourself or another, yet what you couldn’t accept was when they deliberately chose to do so.

That’s what you can never forgive. It’s unforgivable.

6 horrendous years of lifetime wasted upon a single betrayal—back then you were 19, now you were 25.

Since the days of your spring, you always wanted to have a tattoo, not a flamboyant one, a simple one that is for a simple reminder to accompany you throughout your life but now you couldn't have thought that it would be through this way.

A few days ago, you've heard that Somi's public fansign will be held at the city, which is today. You've been waiting for this very day. Clutching the labeled tiny bottle in your hands had you taking a deep breathe, fear consumed your veins as you imagine how her face would evaporate once you threw this on her. Sure, you were breathing but there was no root of life anywhere inside you anymore, so why would she?

Today should be her last day, however she should be grateful as she won't be alone in the underworld, after all. You'll escort her back to where she truly belongs judging by what she did to you.

“Miss!" You paused on your tracks immediately. "You don’t have to leave, I can do it for you.” a breathless sigh emits from the man behind you.

“But—! That’s against the rules. You knew Sir. Park would-”

“It’s okay, I got my last client done so I’m free anyways. Plus, you wouldn’t blow up my cover, wouldn’t you?”

The other guy ruffled through his hair, simply sighing in return. “Ugh, fine.”

A chuckle emits from the person who called for you. “I knew I could count on you.”

You slowly turned to the man in question—jet black shirt, rolled over sleeves, tall frame, black slicked hair, pair of silver round earrings, metal piercing on the top of his ear, tattoos of what you make out to be florals adorning the left side of his neck since his collars hid almost a part of it, and that radiant smile of his. His eyes glowing and his cheeks growing—a stark contrast from his outer appearance.

Hot. That's it. He's drop dead hot.

"Miss—" the man's gleaming eyes fell on your shorter frame, pausing for a millisecond before clearing his throat, gesturing his hands inside the studio. "This way."

"U-uhm, thank you."

He guided you inside the shop where a leather foldable chair was laid across the centre of the room, and a bunch of containers with tools specifically made for tattooing was placed on the table.

You sat on top of it, making yourself comfortable but somehow you choke on your saliva when the boy sat on another chair, leaning a tad bit close far to your own liking. Or was it just really your first time that the close proximity caught you off guard?

"So?" almost akin to a dropping melody, your stomach evaporates with his voice much to your surprise. "What kind of tattoo would like to have on your skin?” He asked, still having radiance adorning his face, the question were voice out too lively and joyous for no reason.

He's hot. You gotta admit that, but drooling at this point won't get you anywhere. Too bad, you met him a tad bit late or else you would've make a first move.

"M-miss?"

"Oh! My bad, my bad." You brush it off nonchalantly, clearing your throat.

Seems like this type of job doesn't do any justice to him, in your opinion. You’d expected that tattooist would perhaps be cold and indifferent, however he was no close to your impression of one. But does your opinion matter? So you kept it and stayed silent from voicing out such hasty words just like before.

“A flower.” you fiddled through your bag, mentally cussing yourself for a whole minute before your fingers came into contact with the cold metal—finally swiping through your gallery and handing your phone to the man.

His dark brown orbs beams alike the sun rays as a noticeable grin pulled up within his cheeks which made you raised your eyebrow in confusion.

"I have the same tat, if you want to see just for example of how it would look like on yours." Excitement laced his voice.

Appalled by his suggestion, you simply replied. "Sure."

Jay didn't expected you to simply agree so quick, which had him letting out a few coughs in attempts to conceal his initial shock.

Quite flustered inside but his outer demeanour remain calm and composed as his fingers made their way through the hem of his collars, each one unbuttoning his shirt till it was enough for his collarbone and chest to be half exposed, revealing the masterpiece adorning his skin.

You didn't expect yourself to be this surprised or even speechless, yet it was truly gorgeous over how the patterns were carefully drilled into his skin and how the outline were so bold and lively despite its colours being only grey and black. You almost forgot that you loathe this flower alot, to be honest.

You inhaled a deep breathe, blinking utterly slow to take in the beauty. "So pretty. D-did you got this from someone or?"

"I did it myself.." Jay replied in a nonchalant manner, yet goosebumps washed over his skin as you leaned closer observing his tattoos in amazement. His orbs rattled against the walls, trying his best to avoid looking at you. Now that he wonder after an eternity watching the walls, has it always been this dirty? Gulping with his lips pressed tight. "W-would you like the exact same as this then, or something different?"

He breathe a long sigh after you fixed your posture, his hands fiddled the hems of his black sleeve to dampened his rampant heart—wondering if you could hear it a moment ago.

"Something like this, however I think.. It would look like we are having matching tattoos then.” You let out a small giggle at that thought, rosy hues dusted off his cheeks when you mention that particular sentence. “Ah, I want it to have a color then. That way, it won’t seem like it.”

Jay's nails dug under his chair, his arms frozen as he processed your words from within.

"Did I said?.."

"No, no— Nothing wrong with that." You observed him pressing his lips tight in an awkward manner as he stood up, the chair creaking as he did so. Standing he did, before the shelves filled with numerous ink bottles of all colours and shades. His hand gestured over them, attentive he was you observed, seemingly waiting for your answer. "I’ll get the color for you then.. Which one?”

"Hm,” pointing your index finger towards the ink bottle with the label, “Red”

His fingers quickly wrapped itself around the bottle, focusing on the label for a good three seconds looking back at you, pulling up a small smile. “Red, I see? That’s a pretty good choice. It’s apparently rare for me to have clients choosing red for tats.”

“Really? That’s new to me.”

“Yep, then.. what kind of red would you like on your camellia?” Again, he stood before a shelf with red ink bottles with all different shades.

Sighing, you stood up, brushing the bottles but not almost to avoid being rude by touching someone’s else personal tools and supplies. It didn’t go unnoticed how the young man beside you, were immensely focused at where your fingers go on about.

“How about ruby?” you gestured your index finger towards the specific labeled bottle, a memory of the gigantic canvas flashes through your mind. “ I don’t like it too bright, actually.” Better if it’s darker in shade—that it would serve her mind till engraved in her soul, the very fruit of her own actions towards you.

Jay lapped his tongue over his lower lip, gulping down his throat as he nodded. “Very well then.”

Nodding as you went back to your seat, it caught you off guard when your eyes fell on the man. Clearing your throat to get his attention, "U-uhm, sir?"

His left eyebrow raised in confusion, doe eyes enveloping your form and it didn't help at all with what you're seeing right now.

"Your shirt.." you held the need to say anything further considering how his eyes ogled out at his exposed torso, giggling awkwardly he did as he buttoned his shirt back. "L-let's get it started then?"

"Alright!"

"So, where do you want to have it on your skin?" He asked, which to you was a bit vague. "On your arm? Your hand? Or.. your back?"

"Hm?" Your eyebrow furrowed at every body part he mentioned, and it only deepens the more your brain processed it. Oh fuck, right. How did I even forgot? "H-ow about m-my neck?"

Pain, that's all you thought. But you seriously wanted the tattoo to be as obvious as fuck for your ex best friend's eyes to ogle at. So you were in utter dilemma. "It.. doesn't hurt that bad, right..?"

"The neck is the most painful part to get a tattoo."

Well shit, I'm screwed. You whimpered as your back slouched in devastation, forget about revenge—you're seriously a dumbo for doing a last minute plan. Your eyes darting over the wall and to the patient man standing before you, you held the need to pout.

Jay noticing your dilemma, cleared his throat. "How about the side of your neck? Just like mine? It doesn't hurt that bad, actually."

"Are.. you sure?" Forming a comforting smile, he nodded. "Alright.."

"Alright! So.." Jay held the need to blink like a maniac as he gestured to your collar, "Your collar, we need to tattoo the side.. of your neck right?"

"Huh..?"

Oh.. right. How did you even forget? Your cheeks began to heat up by the thought as you slowly unbuttoned your shirt, your shoulders slightly exposed as it dangled off.

Your body froze on it's own when his delicate touch brushes against your bare arms, his right hand pulling up your right sleeve back to your shoulder. You didn't realise him closing the distance with you as you were in your deep thought, holding your head low in attempts to avoid his dark grey orbs looking into your soul. Yet his voice causes tingles around your neck, goosebumps washing over your skin.

"We just need the side of your neck, okay..?" Delicate to touch, the twinkles of his eyes met yours. "Relax."

Those blooming bouquets—a symbol of mockery to you along with the gigantic canvas you've created with nothing but pure efforts were presented before everyone as her's. Those silky blonde hair that dangled off her shoulders simply flooding your eyes with tears. That smug look of hers that resurfaced after people were gone, which was evidently for you.

A set of bustling applauses filled the space, a melody to her ears and a mockery to your existence—causing the ground beneath you to shatter into a neverending hollow sinkhole.

“Agh!-”

The sight of the beige-coloured ceiling was what met your wide shot eyes for a whole minute before the drilling pain brought you back to reality, causing your mouth to hang apart—whimpering with every contact of the needle.

“It might hurt, but it has to be something you got to bear if you want the camellia on your skin..”

You almost forgot, how could you even? Your dazed orbs slowly fell on his face as he keeps talking to you even when you couldn't really understand him—his voice soothes the strings of your heart so much it had you calm down instantly despite the tip of the needle punching under your skin every millisecond.

Vagueness encircled around your vision, yet his portrait remain crystal clear due to the close proximity—his faint cherry lips moving with motion as he uttered inaudible words, the set of dust particles fleeting across the tip of his nose, hitting the sun rays from behind him. His eyelashes fluttering in a delicate motion as he remained immensely focused—he seems fitted enough to be your muse, doesn't he?

"You slept really well." He said, causing your cheeks to burn in embarrassment. Now that he mentioned it, you did slept judging by how much time had passed since the session started.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, wondering if you were his only client that fell asleep during session. Holding the need to cringe as you imagine yourself sleeping ever so comfortably before a stranger. "U-uh? Am I the..?"

He hummed in return, but before you could even explode. "It's nice though, that's how I know I'm doing good." The apples of his cheeks grew wider, melting your heart to a dripping honey.

At some point, the pain was nonexistent, partly of it because of his advice, and partly was observing him throughout the entire session.

“If I may ask, why do you want to have a flower as a tattoo?” He asked, which to you was kind of abrupt.

“Don’t you have any customers that like a flower tattoo before?” you asked him suspiciously in which he let out a soft giggle, amused by your reaction.

He shook his head ever so little as he smiled, “Of course I did, just a bit curious about.. you.”

Huh, flirty I see. You hummed inside your head, a bit amused.

"I could say the same thing to you too, why of all things—a flower was your last pick?" you asked him.

"It saved my life."

Ha, saved his life? What a stark contrast that flower did to you and him. While it saves him, it brings destruction to you instead. These ferocious petals serve a whole different meaning to you and him.

"You?.."

“There isn’t anything interesting in particular, just something I..” you paused in between, trying to carefully pick out your words, “Have to do in order to make something alive again.”

“I understand.” his lips tugged up in a small smile, and the rest soon formed into a calming solitude. You expected him to raise another question out of curiosity but to your surprise, he didn't. Somehow, it brought a calming river to your heart that he simply choses not to.

You weren’t quite sure if he notice since he was too absorbed in what he was doing which is pretty understandable, either way you watched him as if he was a scenery or more like a season, if it was a season then—cold spring would be the perfect season to describe him altogether.

He’s hot, you gotta admit. Not that you were so into him, but you gotta give it to the fact that he had that aura that somehow pulls you into wanting to know more about him, atleast, or you can call it curiosity at the best.

“Your name?” you blurted out without much thought. After all, what could go wrong in asking a simple name? After all, this would be the last time.

“M-my name?”

“Hm.. yes.” you raised your eyebrow at him, noticing that he’s a bit slow at picking things up despite his cold upfront aura.

“Jay. You can call me Jay.” he looks down, eyelashes fluttering.

“Mr. Jay.." the name tasted like melody on your tongue, "Suits you pretty well.”

You could notice that he was truly shy, a stark contrast from the tats adorning the side of his neck and down to his arms. “What’s yours?..”

“(Name).”

“It suits you too, (Name).” Simple and straightforward, yet it felt so comforting to hear him imitate your way of speech.

“Thank you-” your breath caught in the back of your throat when his pretty dark orbs looked deep into your soul.

“S-sorry.” He mumbled as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Never mind bout it,” you brush it off, but appalled by those unusual reactions that you can’t seem to get used to. “I-it hurts.. though."

“Oh right-”

He hummed in the back of his throat, those chords of his voice vibrating through your eardrums as the passage of time flowed. The chill atmosphere enveloped your form—despite the drilling tool under your inner skin—hushing you back to slumber despite your efforts trying to resist it. However pitch darkness consumed your vision, and you heard his voice echoing through your slumber. "Sleep well, miss."

Jay observes your eyes falling into deep slumber, taking another look at the labeled 'ruby' bottle for a few moments and back again to your ragged out form that he somehow founds to be emitting solemn. You seem tired, sad, and that you seem to have been crying for god knows how long, it was a baseless assumption, for sure. But he could feel it. Somehow, you reminded him of the day he was like you before.

Softened breeze a few minutes ago has formed into a harsh punch to his face, that belongs to a particular someone as he to felt it against his skin.

“You can’t see a thing! How can you even paint? How can you even?!”

Cans of filled up paints scattered on the floor, while the the dripping colourful shades dripped from his splayed fingers to the ground, biting his lip in desperation, he answered in full blown outrage.

“It’s not my fault that I can’t see anything! Besides, color is not the only medium for art!”

“This won’t do, this is hopeless. You’re hopeless.” The man shook his head, eyes filled with both contempt and annoyance, and with that he stormed off. “Give up, people like you who can never see colors aren’t fitted for this industry. Just give up, Jay."

The thought of his father's words voicing it rang like an ominous bell across the empty labyrinth of the mind and heart of the young man himself.

The door slammed before his solemn, broken form, drenched on colours he could never had the chance to differentiate.

Voice so hoarse it sound so pitiful with the mixture of the empty nightsky. He looks up to prevent any more tears to fall down his cheeks. "What a joke..” a breathless sigh puff up in the air mixing with the tiny dust orbs, tears of moonlight called out for help. “Ah. Was it fate that I had to be born this way?”

He turns his phone open after a short sigh of pain, ragged fingers and chip nails scrolls through the countless pictures of stranger splattered across the internet—smiles, laughter, eyes crinkling akin to half moons with their fingers wrapped around the shiny wine glass as they raise it up to the ceiling, another one has their parents standing on their either side for their graduation photo, swipe down a tiny bit more—and a sweet picture perfect of a small family reflected against his dark orbs.

“Huh..?” the tip of his finger glued against the glowing screen as his eyes hovered on it, pupil dilating as it continued to observe the painting slowly. His breath caught to the very back of his throat, his lungs tightening as it took all it got, tongue remain frozen to the edges of his teeth as his mind tried to make out of what he was seeing.

Monochromes. The shades akin to a graveyard and the deafening silence of crow engulfing his sight but.. Intricate patterns of something flew across his eyes, where was it? He looked up, head snapping to where that object flew to. Gone. Gone it was.

What was that? He looked down at his phone again, the painting; the canvas was massive, with dried acrylic paint on the edges, and the composition laying on between where it’s main character was no man nor woman, nor a child nor an animal, neither a furniture nor a statue but..

A single flower standing out against everything.

“It’s so b-beautiful..” sniffing as he stuttered, pausing in between as he finally kept his eyes closed, not noticing that he had it opened wide and bright in taking the colossal beauty of it that it had grew dry with the wind hitting right against it. As he fluttered it open, his eyes was greeted by the mesmerizing beauty once again.

He couldn’t make out of what kind of color it was yet it’s wholly captivating, perfectly showcasing the artistic skills of the creator—efforts evident, and passion enveloping the gigantic canvas.

“I wonder what is it called?”

An unnamed flower unfolding it’s monochrome robes to the core of his heart, it felt as if he finally had a reason to live for.

"Camellia." Jay breathe out as he meticulously drilled the ink into your skin, taking a form of the flower he wholeheartedly adore. Flowers, it was surely not his first time to have a client wishing for a flower as a tattoo, and surely you won't be the last client either. But the fact that you asked for a specific flower that holds a tremendous meaning to him—brought him inner solace and bliss that you gave him the chance to do so.

For sure, it wasn't probably your intention. But Jay still would like to think of that, nevertheless.

Imitation is the best form of flattery, it shows how you're adamant and determined to be as skilled as the one you look up to regardless of art form. As the passage of time stretched even further, so does the artist himself; each soul grows to their own uniqueness.

And to Jay, himself—he aspires to be as good as the artist that created the painting—the fact that the artist had such blazing passion and skills that it brought the whistles of life to his soul, brought him a tiny doses of envy. But it was those emotions, that kept him going through all seasons despite the obstacles.

His eyes fell on your sleeping face once again, wishing for you to be happy once you see it, hoping that it would bring you the same effect the way it did to him. "(Name)."

"Just give up," familiarity yet indifference laced the blonde haired's aura, her crimson lips pulled up to her cheeks—forming a menacing smirk. "No one would believe you, (Name)."

Rattling orbs shot wide open, your hands clutched your chest—rampant heart behind those ribs vibrating through your eardrums. The dream, no the memories—pulling you back to your ugly reality.

Confused, you raised your eyes—looking for Jay, yet he was nowhere to be found in the midst of the silent space. Your eyes fell upon the clock on the wall before you, it’s arrows pointing towards a sunset hour making your jaw dropped slightly.

2:54pm—exactly one hour left before the fateful hour. You faltered for too long, didn’t you?

"Hey, you're awake." Jay's long fingers fiddled deep his pockets, approaching you from behind.

"Oh, um. Why didn't you wake me up?"

Taken aback but regained his composure just as quickly, "Just.. you've been sleeping really well. So I thought I'd let you get a few more hours, you know."

"Ah," you found yourself a tad bit wavered by his words, tucking the hair strands covering your vision behind your ear. A genuine smile adorned your lips, feeling grateful for his seemingly insignificant consideration. "Thank you.."

“No p-problem, so why don’t you look at it?” Jay's eyes darted over the chair beside him, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked back at you again, on a particular spot on your neck.

Only then you realise the stinging pain on your collarbone. You turned towards the mirror behind you, stroking your finger against the faint red and stinging spot.

It hurts. But it was worth it as the engraved intricate petals adorning your neck, was a sugary sight to your eyes. “It’s so pretty.” you swallowed a lump of saliva down your throat in attempts to prevent the salty tears forming in your eyes, for it truly was breathtaking to look at.

You captured the sight of his familiar beaming smile harmonising with his eyes as always from the mirror's reflection, evidently proud of his artwork adorned on your skin.

Smiling at yourself, you swiftly turn the chair facing him. Standing up on your feet, you leaned in closer—not that close, but enough to take some reaction out of him that you wanted to see once more before you go. One last time.

“Thank you, Mr. Jay.” you said, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have the chance to.. you know."

“I-it’s my pleasure, Miss (Name).” he looks away, abashed in silence yet the rosy hues on the apple of his cheeks were giving it away for you.

“Well then, I’d have to go.”

You weren't sure if it was a fragment of your imagination—that his dark grey orbs seems to lose sun rays within it. However the twinkles of his eyes returned as he gave another smile to you clenched your heart this time, as you walked through the hallway you entered a few hours ago. Feeling a bit emotional, unfortunately.

Pausing just before the entrance's edge, turning your heels around to take another look at your favourite smile, “I wish you a good day.”

"Have a good day, too." Jay nodded, feeling a bit lost at the sight of the soft strands of your hair flowing down the twinkle of your half-moon smiles as it reflected in grey hues of the sunlight.

Facing the long street ahead of you with a decided destination, you raise your arms—waving your hand at the boy without looking back. You weren't sure if he was still there, maybe.. he wasn't looking anymore. You didn't dare to turn your head so as to not raise any hope, not anymore. Not gonna lie, you wish you could stay a bit more.

A destination that leads to the root of your destruction, would you atleast try to hold yourself? Maybe not, this tattoo on your neck serves a reminder of your ruined life—to finally get it even with her.

Coal washes over Jay's vision like fleeting dust.

He, himself, had always been in a state of dust particles washing over his monochrome vision. Just like right now as he watches your figure walking off the street— fleeting particles follow you from behind, encircling around your motion. The colours he couldn't see are for sure muted and distant, however your energy brought this monochromes into blooming hues.

Somehow it also feels odd to see the flower he adores on a girl he barely knew, a simple name that he can only taste on the tip of his tongue.

But all it was to him, was akin to ashes of coal in different shades. However, you stood and went away in the brightest shade of coal despite the colourless land. Your hair swaying with the breeze as you walk off, the way you carried yourself was something that he couldn't fathom.

Somehow, an ominous thought washes over the back of his mind, constantly pushing it further; would you float away like the passing clouds and never return again? He shakes off the thought, letting out an awkward chuckle. What would he gain from this either way? You were just another client, after all.

Another client.

“Miss!”

Feet stuck on the ground after his voice flew into your ears, your stomach grew butterflies as you turned your head over your shoulder to look at the distraught boy.

“What’s the matter.. Mr. Jay?”

Jay gulped down his throat, avoiding your gaze as he approached you like the motion of fleeting petals. His feet betraying his initial thoughts, causing him to look even more distraught. “I— ah.. forgot to say, but.. you have to come here next week to check your tat twice just for safety measures, you know.”

“Next week?..” raising your eyebrow at the thought, you were appalled that you even hesitated. There’s no more next week, nor a tomorrow—it’s all pointless. Your glistened orbs fell on your dappled yellow shoes. “I don’t think I can. But I appreciate it, Mr. Jay."

His hands behind his back formed into a slight fist.

"B-but.. I don't think the camellia's gonna survive if you let it just like that, you know." Jay took two steps closer, his feet stuck on the ground as the firm breeze brushed the monochrome petals on the side of his neck, just like the freshly engraved on yours. "The colours, I mean."

"Huh..?"

Now that you look at him with the golden hues of the sun infused in his eyes like honey, you've come to notice the desperation, determination and hope evident inside those softened orbs, and most importantly—the silent blooming of affection.

“Would you come?”

#「 talesofyuan 」 fics #enha #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #enhypen x female reader #enha jay #jay enhypen #jay x reader #enhypen jay #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #enha angst

102 notes · View notes

hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 1 month

Text

Twinning

Panda’s Notes: Started this one in August last year. Could be wishful thinking, but I hope the boys get along when it's all over. Hope you guys like it. >w<

[Ao3] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

Miles Morales was down in the garage hidden below his uncle’s apartment. He nodded along to the beat coming through his headphones, humming the tune as he dismantled a motorcycle that he’d swiped after a fight with some cartel goons. If he took it apart fast enough, he wouldn’t have to tell his uncle how he’d gotten it back to base. He’d drained the gas and oil already, and he’d trashed most of the outer casings—If he wanted decorative junk, he could hit the body shop whenever—now, he was ripping the engine apart, switching between the wrenches and screwdrivers laid out beside him by just the feel of the handles.

He might have ignored his phone buzzing the first time. If it didn’t ring, it wasn’t his mom, and it wasn’t a worry. When it buzzed a fourth time within 20 minutes, he realized something was probably happening. He sucked his teeth as he wiped his hands down; the bike wasn’t exactly ripped up enough to say he’d gotten it from the scrapyard, but it would have to do if someone was looking for him. He tossed the towel aside and picked up his phone, tapping in his code and glancing the newest notifications—What the hell…?

Aaron: [Ayo, come get your cousin] Aaron: [He gettin on my last nerve] Me: [my wat]

His uncle didn’t respond. At least, he didn’t respond fast enough for the new rush of confusion that was filling Miles’ head. He grabbed his jacket and took the stairs two at a time. He was joking; he had to be. Right? Seriously… But, even then, who the hell would it be dropping in without giving Aaron time to…warn… him…?

Hm…

When he got up to the apartment, he might have slipped into Prowler mode without meaning to. Time slowed to a crawl, and all of the world became that one instant as he took in every altered piece of the room he could: There were two pizza boxes and a box of soda cans on the table beside the window. He didn’t recognize the brands on either of them. The punching bag was hoisted higher off the floor than he remembered, and the record player was spinning another old R&B track.

“Tio?” He called, slowly stepping forward. “Uncle Aaron!”

“Yeah, man?” His gaze whipped to the couch, and Aaron was just…there. He sat on the couch, using a game controller to beckon Miles closer as he sipped from a cup. “You good?”

Miles pouted, and his uncle smirked slightly; Aaron knew it would take nothing short of a bomb going off to pull him away from whatever thing he was tinkering with if he was in the garage. It wouldn’t be the first time a metaphorical one was used, but he hadn’t thought Aaron would lie to him like this.

“M’fine.” Miles insisted with a huff, reaching to close the door. “The hell was that text though? Just because I’m busy doesn’t mean you have t—”

The second the door clicked shut, Miles thought he heard a step behind him. Before he could spin around, he was bear-hugged from behind and lifted up. His legs flailed as he shouted, and he tried to swing his head back against whoever held him.

“Happy to see you too, tough guy.” Miles recognized that voice, and all the panic transformed into that funny emotion smack between relief and incomparable rage.

Of course it was him.

He heaved a sigh before muttering several strings of Spanish curses under his breath, and Aaron laughed a bit as he looked back at them.

-----------------

“So, this is my cousin now?” Miles—um, Earth-42 Miles? Uh, 42? Sure—42 asked in a huff once all three of them were on the couch with pizza on paper plates and colored cups filled with ice and soda.

Miles—1610 Miles. Yes, it was his turn with his own name—smirked around a bite of pizza and reached behind their uncle’s head to push him lightly. “Picking up a lot of attitude toward the guy who brought you free lunch.”

42 slapped his hand away, hiding the little grin on his face with his cup. “Nobody invited your sneaky ass to crawl all over our ceiling.”

“Uh, my ceiling? Thank you.” Aaron interjected, reaching back to smack both of their arms from behind his head. “And you left your little communicator up here when you went down to work. I told him he could drop in.”

“Ugggh, why?” 42 put on the most exaggerated tone, unable to resist the grin that took over his face as Aaron and Miles gave him almost matching looks. “You know I can’t stand him.”

Aaron just shrugged, and Miles put on that offended look. “He had pizza. And you needed to get out of that garage. I know you skipped breakfast this morning.”

42 was about to argue when Miles butt in. “Oho, you skipped breakfast?! I know Mami was pissed.”

“Best believe. She texted me probably the second he left.” Aaron gently elbowed 42’s side. “She knew you were coming over; you don’t got anywhere better to be? No cute little dates with that Ganke boy?”

Miles nearly choked as 42 tried to shout over both of them. “You’re dating Ganke?!”

“Ey, ey, ey! We—ugh! We haven’t put labels on it yet, alright?!” He insisted, blushing madly. “What’s it to you anyway, you ain’t met him!”

“Dude, I have a Ganke; he’s my roommate at school. My best friend.”

“Ew, you live in one of those shoebox rooms? Could not be me.”

“Deflecting!” Miles pointed aggressively and laughed around some comments in broken Spanish while 42 sipped smugly and looked away.

“What about you though? You kissed your boy yet?” Aaron asked without looking at either of them.

42 coughed hard as Miles balked. “Aaron!!” It was almost eerie how their voices were exactly the same sometimes. Aaron just snickered, tossing his game controller casually onto the table.

“Ya’ll do a lot of bickering for supposedly being the same person.” He chuckled, crossing his arms.

42 rolled his eyes, wiping the side of his mouth. “Please. I’m still not convinced it’s not some kind of bullshit half the time. As if I’m anything like this goody-two-shoes dork.”

Miles snorted, crossing his arms. “Is that really all you got, eh? Disney channel lookin’ ass.”

“You wanna fuckin’ go, cuz?” 42 pulled his legs up onto the couch, attempting to lunge at Miles when Aaron caught him around the waist. He flailed for a moment, and Miles sneered. “Ay, let me go; the punk has it coming anyw—Wait, wait, don’t you dare!”

Aaron had shifted one hand, letting his fingers crawl gently on the back of 42’s ribs just below his shoulder blades. And Miles’ face lit up in shock as his doppelganger fell into near-hysterical laughter.

“No way, seriously?!” He snorted, and Aaron gave a slight smirk as he tried to keep his flailing nephew from squirming away from him.

“Oh, you’re surprised?” He chuckled, scribbling up between 42’s shoulders and pulling him close before he could flail his shrieky self onto the floor. “His mom always called it—”

“Angel Wings!” Miles said at the same time as Aaron, laughing softly as his eyes lit up at the memory. “Man, I can’t believe it; that never worked on me.”

42 glared at both of them as he was more or less dropped back onto the couch cushion, and Miles couldn’t tell if it was just anger or a sort of envy. “Bullshit. You have to be fuckin’ lying.”

“Pfft, well—” Miles stammered a bit, looking away in slight embarrassment. “Not half as bad as it gets you, clearly—Hey!” He dodged to one side as an unopened soda can launched past his head, barely managing to snag it with his web shooter before it hit something.

“’Ey, chill.” Aaron said lightly, sneaking another tickle on 42’s back as he wrapped his arm around him. “Wildin’ out all the time… Staying in that garage all day is not helping you relax.”

“I don’t need to relax!” 42 barked out suddenly, only to cringe and cross his arms as he pouted. He took a few deep breaths, sighing when Aaron pat him on the head.

“Somethin’ you need to talk about?”

42 glanced between the two of them, and Miles leaned slightly to see his face. He let out a final sigh and shook his head. “Just stressed…” He admitted with a shrug. “Tired, maybe?”

Aaron hummed, nodding as he squeezed 42’s shoulder.

Miles let out a sigh of his own, setting down his cup before resting his chin on one hand. “Think we should call Ganke to cuddle with you?” He asked gently, letting the smirk grow on his face at the incredulous look 42 gave him.

“Nah, yeah, that’s three strikes.” Aaron chuckled, shrugging when Miles balked. “You can kill him.”

42 sneered, and Miles flailed slightly, about to run off when Aaron sneakily grabbed his ankle. His escape was disrupted just enough that 42 was able to tackle him off of the couch. They wrestled for a moment, with Miles quickly gaining the upper hand with his Spider strength…right up until 42 shoved his hands under Miles’ arms. Miles shrieked, pulling his arms in tight and kicking against the floor as he cackled. 42 balked for a second, his eyes and smile brightening.

“No fuckin’ way; you were actually right, you little shit.” He laughed, pressing his thumbs into Miles’ ribs.

“I-I’m taller than you!” Miles managed out between his laughter.

“You—!”

Aaron chuckled as Miles squealed, and he grabbed his game controller again while they fought. It wasn’t much of a fight for long—one of them did have super-strength, after all—but it was nice that his nephews were finally having fun.

#a panda writes a thing #tickling #miles morales #miles morales prowler #42!miles #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #aaron davis #spiderverse tickle

18 notes · View notes