Mikasa X Black Reader - Tumblr Posts
jeweler!mikasa makes sure femalerapper!reader is the female rapper with the freshest prettiest pieces. her baby should never go outside without something around her neck. that’s offensive.
Y’all, I think I have a crush on this account🥴 you ever read a fic so good you wanna marry the writer🥹🥵
But fr this is a work of art😚
CHARM’D • mikasa ackerman
your fiancée gets a new piercing and you decide to have some fun with it.
content + themes: nail tech!mikasa, black fem!reader, y/n is a lash tech, subby mika, her and y/n cracking jokes on each other, overstimulation, pillow humping, use of toys, scissoring, heavy squirting, fingering, bratty mika, gay bestie!armin cameo
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･
most people would say working with your significant other seems like a great time. Being around the one person you love more then life itself and earning a living at the same time? You couldn’t ask for a better deal. However, it did have its challenging moments..discipline and focus is an important part of anyone’s employment. Regardless of the job but especially when tending to someone’s beauty and esthetic needs, it was imperative to pay attention. Hence why your fiancée despised the fact that you were working alongside her as her new lash tech some days! Granted, she was thrilled to have you around and with an extra service and set of hands around, you guys’ income practically tripled. So it was a pretty sweet deal. However, you didn’t make it easy…in fact, you acted as if giving her a hard time was your actual occupation..
“Are you sure we can’t just fill them in and work around it? C’mon, Mika. You sure you can’t just do your magic?”
“Sweetheart, how long have you been a client of mine? I’m an artist, not a repair woman. Two things I refuse to do is fly coach and work over other people’s fuck ups. Now let’s soak these off so I can give you a fresh set. While you’re waiting, Armin can get you in the shampoo bowl. Since he’s sitting on his skinny ass, doing nothing.”
needless to say, it was never a dull moment! You guys’ hairstylist and resident smartass, Armin Artlert was currently seated in one of the styling chairs, typing away on his phone.
“And don’t forget looking cute. Just blind and grouchy.”
“Whatever. Help her before I suddenly find your replacement.”
it was obvious that the normally laid back nail tech was in rare form this morning. Not so much rude or angry but definitely on edge a little. The shop was a little busy but nothing more than usual for the Sugar and Spice Haus. It was normal for clients to be waiting outside the door so she couldn’t have been frazzled by that. So what exactly had her acting so strange? Perhaps it was a question better answered by the one person who knew her better than anyone else..and who ironically was the root cause of the issue!
“Oh, don’t pay her any attention, y’all. She’s just a little worked up. Isn’t that right, baby?”
just then, a rather gleeful (y/n) would come traipsing from the back of the salon..strapless dress and sandals, holding a caddy full of lash supplies. In return, the only thing you were met with was a decorated middle finger and the roll of dark, doe eyes. Your fiancée was quite the bratty thing when she wanted to be but she was oh so cute….
“Oh shut up. I’m not talking to you right now.”
hence why you took immense pleasure in teasing her among other things..something that began long before the two of you even opened shop this morning..
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･
flashback: earlier that morning..
── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･
“Oh God!…yes..right there!…”
“Aw, is that your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”
the high pitch, condescending coo spouting from your lips rang off into the ears of your very whiny and overstimulated fiancée. Who had just been sleep only twenty minutes prior or so it would appear. Because as the two of you awoke for the morning, ready to start another day in the home and salon you shared as not only lovers, but business partners…you were met with a rather pleasant surprise. Faint whimpers and the sight of your precious Mikasa grinding herself against her pillow. Her tits spilling from her tank top; fondled in her palms, hair brushing against the sheets and her panties tugged to the side as her bare slit rubbed profusely against the memory foam material. She had to have been in utter bliss from the sounds erupting from her mouth. Not only that, she looked so sexy..however, you knew it was rather unbecoming of your woman too. Granted, your sex life was anything but mundane and the two of you took any opportunity plausible to fuck, lick or kiss on one another. However, for the past few days or so, she seemed to be evading you. Claiming to be far too exhausted for any sort of sexual activity. She’d shower alone and even halt you if things got too intense. One would think that was indicative of infidelity and that their partner was with someone else. But alas, her dirty little secret came to light and needless to say, you’d return the pent up sexual frustration ten fold!..
“Oh? What’s this?…” she just knew that once you unveiled the truth, you’d never allow her to live it down. And she was correct.
“(Y/N)..baby…fuck me!..”
the truth was, she had snuck behind your back and acquired a clit piercing. More than likely from the same artist who had decorated her skin in the plethora of tattoos she sported. But what she hadn’t counted on was becoming so hypersensitive afterwards. It was one of those things that could go either way, depending on the person. Getting piercings in intimate area could either make you lose all feeling or make you super sensitive to the touch. For poor Mikasa, she was the latter to a fault! You would’ve thought that she would’ve learned her lesson when she got her nipples pierced and they sent her into a frenzy with something as simple as putting on a bra on. But you were more than happy to meet her request..flipping her over onto her back, (y/n) promptly shoved your tongue into her mouth; jaw agape and slack from being on the brink of climax. Her pierced nipples puffy and erect and of course..that adorable little clit; marked with a silver ball and bar going through it. It looked so cute and she looked even more precious..practically begging for you to claim her. Slick surrounded that fat pussy of hers and you just knew she was close.
“Oh you poor thing…you’ve been holding out on me…don’t worry, mama. I’ll take care of you..”
reassuring her with your lips honing on her neck. Tender kisses trailing down her throat and those fingers following suit to her mound. Tracing your digits across her freshly waxed skin, you’d tease around the area, refusing to touch the actual bud. “But first..I need you to do sum’ for me, okay?” So gently cooing to her. At this point, she was desperate so she was at your mercy.
“Yes, baby!..whatever you want..”
crying out as you moved your fingertips lower as well as your mouth, leaving them to hover over her jeweled nipples. Drawing a long trail of saliva along with you in the process. That’s when you’d shove those two opposite fingers between her lips and force her to suckle, drumming up her own spit. “Suck on these f’r me. Get them wet…just like that.” She’d happily comply, knowing that you’d help her reach her peak soon. Whilst she was busy drooling and whining, you’d ease one digit inside of her with your thumb resting on her clit. She looked so helpless and vulnerable..turning you on more and more by the second. Mikasa’s back would raise from the bed as you pushed those digits knuckle deep into her core. You’d feel them suction and tighten around you and continue pressing until they were stained with a sheath of milky white and sticky clear liquid..dripping all down your nails. You kept them short just for special instances like these. So you could pump them in and out her pretty pussy and watch her squirm, yelping for more.
“Ah! Haaaa…oh my god! Right there! Yes…”
“Aw, am I in your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”
nodding her head profusely; your dormant thumb now tracing circles against her clit and even flicking that piercing for added stimulation. Needless to say, she couldn’t hold back any longer and seconds later, when you finally gave her permission, you’d find your arm, the sheets and anything surrounding you two drenched in her juices. Squirting everywhere..and became inconsolable afterwards. “That’s it!…let it go, let it go for meee..squirt on those fingers.” Encouraging with loud cries ringing out through the bedroom. She was practically convulsing once you withdrew your fingers. Allowing them to drip, you’d dangle them over her lips and allow her to clean them off. “Mmmhm..taste yourself, baby…you look so pretty.”
running a hand along her torso and up to her throat yet again to wrangle her in for a kiss. Haven gotten a taste of her sweet essence, you decided to get your entire fill by finally leaving a trail of pecks leading to her pelvis before tousling your own side of the covers off and climbing on top of her. Without missing a step, you’d part her inked up legs and pin one back whilst intertwining the other with your own. From there, you’d tear off the thin lacy panties she was wearing off and put them to much practical use like gagging her. From there, you’d align your frothing slits and start grinding them against one another. Tugging down your own sports bra; dressed in only a bonnet and having fallen asleep with nothing on your lower half, you had become well aroused on your own from her little escapades. With that, Mika would buck her hips forward and work herself against you; meeting your thrusting with tearful pleas to keep fucking her. “Don’t stop, baby! Please don’t fucking stop…” her voice was cracking but her words very concise and clear. Those perky tits bounced around underneath as she gripped the silk linen underneath your bodies. The smacking of your clammy folds and warmth made for a beautiful chorus of steamy, nasty sounds filling the atmosphere…she wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure either because you soon found yourself nearing an orgasm. “I’m gonna come too, mama…fuck! You feel so good..”
laughing out of pure delirium and pleasure, unable to slow down in fear that you’d come on the spot. Those sticky juices smeared across each of your thick thighs as those lower lips meshed together. Eventually, you’d find yourself leaning down to let your tongues clash as well. “Mmph! I love you…” “I love you too, Mika! Fuck, baby…come for me again..”
just then, she’d follow your order and flail around as another stream of juices exited both of your bodies. Spraying up everything in the vicinity. Rubbing those finger pads against her throbbing bud, (y/n) drummed out more and more until she couldn’t spill another drop. You found yourselves going round for round..drawing out one another’s arousal and all that you had to offer. An hour or so had past; an array of positions from being seated on her face while you ate her out, to riding a double sided dildo…
“Yes, baby! You look so pretty riding that fucking dick..go deeper..”
to finally ended your rather heated session with your fingers intertwined as you played with yourselves. Massaging those clots to your final climatic rushes. Coming down in a powerful high with tears streaming down your faces and squirt pooling down your legs. All in all, it seemed that her little piercing was a success and rather useful investment.. “C’mere..that feel good?..” “..yeah..thank you, baby..so much.” Fucked out and dazed from being overly stimulated. But neither of you regretted a thing..that was until you made another proposal with a deviant glare on your face..reaching over into the dresser, you’d retrieve another device: a controller vibrator. One you planned to utilize on her throughout the work day!
“Hell no, (y/n)! I can’t..”.
but it was too late..you had already placed it inside of her and would be utilizing it until you had your fill. You wanted to see how she fared with her little body modification when you were the one in control..and throughout an entire day of work.
maybe next time she wouldn’t keep such secrets from you!
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
@soanis @merakidoll
drug dealer!mikasa and her hood princess gf headcanons
📝: don’t y’all judge me but this been in my head all day and it’s not going nowhere so I’m sharing the delusion.
mentions of heavy drugs, violence and weapons, robbery and setups, smut warning, tribbing, gunplay, fingering, car sex, Mika being a freak
drug dealer!mikasa, who you first met while working at a gas station was so infatuated the moment she laid eyes on you. Always frequenting on your scheduled days and making more visits than the average customer.
drug dealer!mikasa, who always looked fine as hell, regardless of how she was presenting that day. Whether she in a pair of baggy joggers, band t-shirt and a pair of Nikes or tight fitting two piece skirt and tube top that revealed all of the tattoos littering her toned body. Nothing but designer and expensive shit touched her skin.
drug dealer!mikasa appeared cool as a fan but every time she entered that store, she wondered how she was going to approach a bad bitch like you..loving your various hairstyles that you switched out weekly and duck bill nails. Not to mention the gold hoops dangling from your ears, clavicle piercings and tattoos.
“Who done your arm piece? It’s beautiful.” “From the shop on 104th. The tall dude with the long hair? Him.”
drug dealer!mikasa only smirked when you brought him up because she knew him very well. “That’s my boy Eren. We used to work together.” Failing to mention that said work involved a little something on the illegal side. Something she could never give up as easily.
drug dealer!mikasa, who drove a brand new matte black Audi R8 or Benz Truck when you saw her and wore jewelry that could pay your rent always gave a vague answer when you asked her what she done for a living.
“Shit, I’m tryna get like you, pookah. What you do for work?” “Family business. Nothing major.”
drug dealer!mikasa, who lived with her uncle, a well known club owner and kingpin attended the university as a business student, put her studies to good use selling all types of drugs to her peers; from the star football player to the stuck up sorority girls. It brought her joy to see those bitches tweaking on her supply.
drug dealer!mikasa, who mainly hung out on your side of town would offer to smoke you out after your shifts as you two sat in her car. Talking about random shit and having a good time. It was one night when the two of you were chilling when you decided to ask her once more what she done while she was high.
“I already told you, I’m in the family business.” uttering as you caught a glimpse of the baby Glock tucked between her console and a dime bag right beside it.
drug dealer!mikasa knew she couldn’t keep her secret any longer and seeing the excitement in your eyes at the prospect of her being a dealer, began to spend a lot more time with you and a whole lot more money! Buying you gifts, taking you out and spending racks at the strip club with you.
drug dealer!mikasa loved having you by her side when she made her drops. Knowing that you weren’t some boujie bitch who’d be scared. Sitting pretty in her passenger seat and holding her pistol. Not to mention that having a sidekick made it easier to hit a lick. Setting men up from her uncle’s club who had been harassing girls and robbing them blind.
“That dude again? Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. Right, baby?” “Of course, this gon’ be fun.”
drug dealer!mikasa, who didn’t even need drugs after the high of watching you get these assholes down to their underwear and then coming in for the drop. Getting turned on by watching you count your money up while the guy cried in the corner. Just having to fuck you crazy afterwards.
“Yeah, suck on that gun like you did him, baby.” That mouth is so fucking pretty..” shoving her barrel between your lips as she fingered you in the front seat. Knowing how much wetter it got that little plump pussy.
drug dealer!mikasa loved when you fed each other percs because the sex was ten times more intense. From letting your tongue piercings clash in sloppy kisses as you scissored to riding a double sided dildo for almost an hour; going back and forth to see who could come the most. Leaving the bed drenched in your puddles of squirt and silky cream.
drug dealer!mikasa dicked you down better than any man with that thick eight inch strap on. Pounding you from behind and slapping your thick ass with each stroke.
“You fucking the shit out this pussy!…oooh..” “Then come for me, gorgeous. Give me that shit.”
drug dealer!mikasa ate you out and stimulated herself with a vibrator until the two of you finally tapped out and came down from that high.
drug dealer!mikasa had never met a girl like you, knew she’d never be able to fuck with anyone else after getting a taste of you.
their favorite parts of the braiding process
summary: lmfao it’s just the title
genre | includes: headcanons, sfw, black reader, gn reader, established relationship
characters: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, sasha braus, jean kirschtein, connie springer, levi ackerman, hange zoe, erwin smith, historia reiss, ymir (not fritz), reiner braun, annie leonhardt, bertholdt hoover, marco bodt, miche zacharius, nanaba, zeke jaeger, yelena, onyankopon, pieck finger, porco galliard
author’s note: got my hair done a few days ago and i’ve been experiencing insane aot brainrot so here we are. ignore the way these got progressively longer lol. this was fun and i have some other ideas, maybe college won’t kill me before i post them. enjoy and lemme know what you think :)
the take down – you can’t really place them. they never want you to take your old hair out, but are all giggly with the scissors when you assert that it’s time. they can’t help it. even with all the build-up on your scalp, they think the return of your natural hair is something out of a fairy tale. they love the curl pattern left in your hair after weeks of being in braids and they love separating the braiding hair from your own. the scene stays the same: you’re on a pillow on the floor between their knees while a shitty hallmark romcom plays on the tv in front of you. both of you are armed with rattail and wide tooth combs, mentally preparing for all the shedding and breakage you’ll be brushing off the couch for the next few weeks. it’s routine at this point for them to jokingly hover the open scissors over the part of your braid where you know damn well your hair is and ask if they can cut from there. it’s also routine for the scissors to get snatched right out of their hands as you proceed to cut way below where your hair could logically be because “after all the time i spent fighting people in walmart for the mielle oil, i better have a natural 40 inch buss down under all this xpressions”.
EREN, ymir, PIECK, zeke (cut your hair like an inch from the scalp while removing butterfly locs one time and, to this day, you’ve never seen someone more terrified), nanaba, YELENA, onyankopon
the wash – they’re probably more excited about your hair getting washed than you are. they miss giving you scalp massages without having 6 weeks worth of gel and leave in conditioner left under their nails. what they didn’t get was why it took so long. it probably sparked an argument because they never spend that much time washing their hair, so why do you? it wasn’t until you made them watch as you and your detangling brush fought with your curls under the stream of water and nearly blacked out from the heat that they realized why the water bill was so high. to save your aching arms (and hopefully some extra cash) they offered to wash your hair for you. they nearly waterboarded you the first time, but with practice, they got better. now, nothing relaxes them more than lathering shampoo through your hair and occasionally spraying water in your face when you look too at peace. they buy you a salon wash basin for christmas so you both can stop crouching over the tub which is great, but where the fuck are you supposed to install it?
MIKASA, erwin, sasha, REINER (has the cutest smile when you sigh in response to him scratching that one spot on your scalp), hange, jean, annie, porco
the blowout – they don’t realize, especially if your hair is type 4, that detangling during the wash is only half the battle. it doesn’t matter how silky smooth it got in the shower, the second the blow dryer is out, it all goes to hell. i hope you’re not tenderheaded because the fight between them and your curls is long and painful. but it's a battle they refuse to let you fight. god forbid you try to blow out your own hair– they get sooo upset. which confuses you because the way they grumble under their breath while passing the comb attachment through your hair has you convinced they’re only doing it to work out some unresolved stress. the truth is, they just know you’ll forget to use heat protectant and wind up frying your hair. and they know how upset you get when you realize some of your roots didn’t get stretched. so they’ll (gently) muscle their way through the most stubborn tangles any day if it means getting to see you smile at how healthy your hair looks and how much it has grown since the last time you saw it like this. they love how your hair now floats around you. they don’t love how sore their arms are. “damn, no wonder you’re so strong.”
connie, PORCO, BERTHOLDT, armin, miche, MARCO (probably cries when the comb extension breaks in your hair)
the beauty supply runs – the simultaneously dull and fluorescent lighting casts an otherworldly glow over the aisles of gel, deep conditioner, kankelon hair, and wig glue. for some reason, there’s always a childlike gleam in their eye as they scan the wigs along the wall. you have to hold their hand every time so they don’t wander off. it’s not like the store is big–you could probably read each other’s lips while standing on opposite sides–but if given the freedom to roam, you’d be leaving $250 poorer than you planned for with bags full of stuff you absolutely don’t need. “babe we have matching bonnets, we don’t need them in zebra stripes too.” if you can convince them to stick with you, they’re snatching every bottle you pick up out of your hand. before you can even begin questioning them, they’ve already started reciting information about the ingredients of the products and why it isn’t good for your hair’s porosity. you can only stare dumbly as they hand you a better option to try because you have no idea when they would have had time to do any of this research. the favorite part of the trip for both of you is picking the color you’re doing next. the average passerby would think you’re trying to decide which wire to cut so you don’t detonate a bomb with how hard you both scrutinize the packs of color 30 and 350 in front of you (ginger is always your color)
HANGE, marco, mikasa, ONYANKOPON (will give you the dirtiest look if you so much as glance at a cantu product), pieck
the parting – this is the first step of the actual installation process that you involve them in. before they used to sit next to you on the couch as you did it all yourself, committing every movement your fingers made to memory and keeping you company. they would frown as you cursed your lack of ability to see perfectly behind your head and parted the same section over and over again. they wanted to offer help, they really did, they just didn’t trust themselves enough. so when you both started working from home and you didn’t care what your parts looked like, you let them try. it wasn’t perfect the first time, or the second. for about a month, you rock faux locs with a scalp that looks like the drawing on your fridge gifted to you by your 5 year old nephew, but that’s what beanies are for. rough start aside, they pick up on it quickly. they figure out how much gel you really need for your braids to look neat and don’t overdo it. wielding the comb with confidence, they cut through your hair like butter. soon they’re parting your hair into boxes, hearts, arches, diamonds, and whatever else you could imagine like moses did the red sea. “babe do you think it would look good if i make one of them look like my initials?”
ARMIN, eren, levi, ERWIN, ZEKE, historia (got really good really fast… hisu who do you fuck in the city when i’m not there?), bertholdt
the braid down – they’re in awe of the dexterity of your stylist's fingers as she adds pieces of braiding hair to your own and hardly looks down while nimbly braiding all the way to the ends. they sit through all your appointments–locs, press and curls, protein treatments, wig installs–but nothing fascinates them as much as the art of a simple braid. they ask all sorts of questions about what your stylist is doing and even start putting hair on the rack to make the process go smoother. they pay even more attention when you do it yourself because they aren’t worried about distracting anyone from doing their job. before long, they know almost everything there is to know about your braids except for how to do them. and they want to know so badly. the opportunity arises when you both relocate to a new city and all the “stylists” are charging $300+ for smedium mid-back knotless braids. you’d do it yourself, but you broke two fingers during the move-in process and aren’t skilled enough to work around it. you think you need to coach them through the process, but are pleasantly surprised when they get the grip right the first time and are halfway down by the time you’ve picked what movie trilogy you want to watch. turns out they’d been watching youtube videos and taking lessons from your old stylist so they could do it for you one day. at least that’s what they tell you, they really just like popping your head with the comb when you move from where they positioned it. “ow! stop pushing my head around” “keep your head still and i’ll think about it”
LEVI, yelena, YMIR (does the thing where she talks on the phone with it tucked in between her shoulder and her ear while braiding at top speed, like just put it on speaker), onyankopon, mikasa, armin, ANNIE
the finished product – they are NOT here for delayed gratification. they want to see your hair done and they want to see it now. they get more restless than you do and they’re not the one getting their thoughts and dreams braided for 5 hours. like why are they more upset about the infamous last braid that gets split into 4 more than you are? “man what the fuck are you so upset about? this is not your scalp??” it’s nice having them around regardless. whether or not they’re helping with the actual braiding, they’re your biggest supporter. they’ll grab you (and the stylist if you aren’t doing it yourself) mcdonalds, boil the water to seal your ends, oil your scalp, mousse your hair, trim the flyaways, sweep up the stray hair, etc. knowing how tired you are, all the time consuming clean up is their self-allotted duty. but once all of that is done, they get to do what they’ve been waiting for: admire you. without fail, the second you stand up they’re taking pictures from every angle, showering you with compliments (ginger really is your color), peppering your head with kisses, but most importantly, just looking at how beautiful you are. you outdo yourself every time and they tell you as much, even if it embarrasses you.
HISTORIA, connie, pieck, hange, SASHA, reiner, JEAN (the heart eyes this man has for you…and don’t get me started on the sketches he makes of you with every new style you get. he is SO whipped)
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