100 Marvel One Shots✔️

Right On Time >> Kraglin Obfonteri X Reader

It was around the same time, maybe in early February when his doodles on his arms (a product of long customer-less days at the soap shop) started growing in number, and not from his doing. He was fond of the idea of tattoos, or maybe the idea of magic and soulmates and that crap, but when he realised that he had no need for tattoos, and that there was someone out in the world who knew about his little drawings, he felt something different, for once.

Not alone? No. He had a whole life of comradeship and adventures around the city with the Ravagers and even though he'd never be in the seat of a formula one car, he had plenty of practice with getaways and the rush that followed. Maybe it was because he'd never really showed anyone this side of him before. He'd run away from home as a child, and Yondu wasn't one for words, or at least, getting them out right, but...sharing the pictures on his arms was sort of special, a secret. A good secret that made him feel like he wasn't such a hard to like guy after all.

But it was almost June when one day, he woke up to see his arm had a message for him. Written in red ink – like a teacher's pen that he'd gotten so many Ds from as a child, he ruminated – were three words. Not the three words that everyone fantasised about in romance novels and those crazy online pictures that spread around like viruses to make people chuckle. No. It made his stomach churn, his head spin...his fingers quake as he licked his fingers to try and rub the words from his skin.

Who are you?

It went another month, and two before more pictures came to your skin. In this time, you knuckled down, kept at your job. It was break, and sure, there wasn't much to do via your actual work, but for once, you were left with time for you. The fantastical Me-Time you'd heard so much about. Though teacher's assistant pay was next to nothing, you worked as hard as you could, and even went and got another job. It was just as a barista, at a cute little café downtown beside Starscape (a soap shop), nothing you'd not done before getting the TA position. You'd end up with coffee stains and marks all up and down your arms.

Maybe the silence on the other end of the line was because of those bold three words you'd written. Gosh, you'd scared the poor person away from your boldness. But after working at the coffee shop for a while, you noticed some marks on your arms had come, and not of your doing. Swirls. Tally marks for things you didn't know what for. Sometimes you'd see marks that smelt slightly like car oil, or your hands would be tinted the colour of dirt. It made for a hard time trying to convince your boss at the café that you were going to pass health inspection.

"I was wondering what you got up to in your time off," a familiar voice intoned. Glancing up, you saw the professor, her white hair out of the tight hairstyle she usually wore, her clothes reminding you something between a second-hand shopper and something they'd walk down a Paris runway. "I'll have a large affogato and a scone, please."

You grin, taking your other boss's order. "Sure thing, Dr Rael."

She waved the words off. "Please, call me Irani. You've deserved it, helping me for so much. I don't know what I'd do without you!" She notices the manager standing by the phone in the corner, and cries out, "Rhomann! It's been simply ages!"

As she chatters away, you get her coffee and cake, not noticing the pictures growing up your arms with every passing second.

Peter noticed the pictures on Kraglin's arms first out of all the Ravagers. Gosh, Kraglin wasn't a fan of the boy, and probably never would be, but when the guy came up to him, and mentioned the drawings, he wasn't anything short of polite. Perhaps it was because they were in Starscape, not around the gang who'd all take turns drilling him for being half in love. But that was until Peter rolled up his shirtsleeve, and revealed a name inked onto his bicep. Gamora.