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pinkie-pop · 2 months

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"Reincarnated As The Cringefail Lord of Hell's Second Child."

Part I Part II Part III

Sequel to this.

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Morningstar!Reader, Platonic Hazbin Hotel x Reader, Yandere Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 3.2k

Includes: No applicable warnings for this installment

Synopsis: A straightforward isekai story, you're reborn as the devil's child. With knowledge of your past life and the show your new world is based on, it's clear that you must be destined for greatness. The only question remains: why does everyone around you seem to be acting so...strange?

•~•~•~•~•~•

You remember Lilith as a caring mother.

For the short period of time that she was in your life, you never once felt unloved. Even when you were suspicious of her, even when you tried to turn away from her, she always gazed at you with utmost adoration. Then, six months later, she stopped gazing at you at all. Six months later, she disappeared entirely.

Lucifer handled her sudden departure about as well as one could have. You didn't see him that much during the six months in which your mother was present, but you could tell they were in a rough patch. They never fought, never hit or insulted, but they were awkward in a way that was hard to describe. It showed in the way Lucifer gazed at her, in the way Lilith would break eye contact, in the way she never handed you over to him without his explicit asking. You suppose that must be why Lucifer has hardly changed even after his wife left without warning—to him, she had already left a long, long time ago.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Being a single father to two children isn't easy, even if one of them is already grown up. A child is never fully grown in the eyes of their parents, no matter how many centuries pass them by.

You were always a little too mature for your age. It made it hard to be a dad, Lucifer thought. After all, how could he raise someone who acted as if they had already led a full life some many years ago?

Before Lucifer could blink, seven years had already passed him by, and yet his youngest had not seemed to age a day. It was as if you had stopped growing a long time ago. It was as if you were born an adult. Your physical body was the only indicator of your progress. It scared him, honestly. Before you could even walk, you were crawling to the library and reading grimoires as old as the demon who owned them. Lucifer wishes he could dismiss it as a child simply playing with a toy, but something deep in his gut told him that you understood every word. This theory proved true when you started practicing magic mere months later. Your progress was astounding, unlike anything he'd ever seen.

You…weren't normal. But every so often, you'd look up at him with your big, round eyes and smile, and you'd feel like a kid again. Lucifer would become aware of how rounded your cheeks and small your body was, and suddenly, the unease would vanish. That's right. No matter what, you were still only seven. The same seven-year-old who brought their teddy bear everywhere they went, who'd play with Razzle and Dazzle, just barely starting to be taller than said sheep.

Despite everything, you were still his child.

Lucifer’s phone buzzes, momentarily taking him out of his musings.

It's Charlie.

Wait…Charlie?! Charlie never calls him! Oh no, what should he say? It has to be perfect, it has to be—

“Hey, bitch,” he says. Perfect.

“Hey, Dad,” Charlie says awkwardly, the sound of her pacing echoing through the speakers. She seems nervous, it makes Lucifer's heart ache. He wants so badly to reach out through the phone and comfort her, but he can't even muster up the courage to ask what's wrong. He kicks a duck across his workshop, the sound of it's squeaking echoing across the room. “So, I had a favor to ask you...” The sound of pacing stops, and Lucifer waits with bated breath.

“Sure, anything,” he says. “Anything you want.” Charlie explains the situation to him. She runs a hotel now, apparently. Why didn't she tell him sooner? The thought of her not trusting him with it ate at his pride, but he set his feelings aside and resolved to just listen. Charlie invites him to check out her hotel, and it dawns on him that this is the first time she's ever invited him over. The weight of her invitation is not lost on him. Eagerly, he responds, “I'll be there in an hour!” then hangs up.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Despite your maturity, you're still too young to be left home alone (in Lucifer's eyes, at least), so Lucifer takes you with him to the hotel. He's sure Charlie will be thrilled to see you again—the two of you have always been fond of each other.

The hotel looks pretty much as it did in the show, with the only difference now being the large banner hanging from the stairway reading “Welcome, Dad!”. Charlie is there to greet the two of you at the door, and you can see the rest of the cast hanging around in the distance.

“[Name]!” Charlie says, running to pick you up and hug you as Lucifer stands awkwardly to the side. “I didn’t know you were coming, or I would have added your name to the sign!” When Charlie is done nuzzling your face, she and Lucifer share an awkward hug of their own. “I’m so glad you guys could make it. Let me show you around!” Charlie holds your hand and guides the two of you to the bar first, where Husk is there downing another bottle of cheap booze.

“Who’s the pipsqueak?” He says between gulps. “I don’t like kids.”

“Look at their face, hot stuff,” Angel replies, leaning over the counter with a lazy grin. “Think you just insulted royalty.”

“Hello!” you say, craning your neck up to see them. “I’m [Name]! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Aw, look at that smile,” Angel coos, picking you up by the armpits. “Musta inherited that from ‘er Mom.”

“What makes you say that?” You tilt your head. As far as you know, you inherited most of your traits from your father.

“Look at ‘im,” Angel says, nodding towards Lucifer, who’s wearing the nastiest frown you’ve ever seen.

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Dad, are you okay over there?”

“I’d be fine if that filth were to put you down, sweetie,” he says.

“Hey! I am not ‘filth’! People pay big money just to be in the same room as me, you know!” Lucifer walks over and snatches you from his grip. The two of them exchange insults back and forth. Seeing as this might take a while, you climb down from your Dad’s arms and start looking around.

“Why, hello there, little one,” Alastor says, materializing beside you. He reaches a hand out to shake, then excitedly swings your arm up and down when you give it. “You must be [Name]. Pleasure to be meeting you, dear! Quite a pleasure! Our dear Charlie has told us quite a bit about you,” he says, still shaking your arm.

“She has?” You say, glancing over to Charlie, who’s busy trying to defuse the tension between your father and Angel Dust.

“Yes, indeedy!” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and spinning you around. “And since our dear Princess is so busy with her father and our tenant, I shall take it upon myself to show you around. Isn’t that just grand?” Alastor doesn’t bother waiting for a reply before dragging you by the arm towards the staircase, only to be stopped by Vaggie who quickly blocks the path.

“Oh no you don’t,” she says, brandishing her spear. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you are going nowhere with them.” Alastor grins but relents, dropping your arm and disappearing. Creepy.

“Are you okay?” Vaggie asks, kneeling down to your height. You nod but hold the spot where the Radio Demon had grabbed you as if worried it might be bruised. Vaggie checks to see if it is but sees no signs of any bruise or injury forming on your small arm. That’s a relief, at least.

“Hah!” You and Vaggie snap around at the sound of thunderous laughter coming from the bar. The two of you are greeted by an odd sight—Lucifer and Angel Dust embraced together in a stiff hug, while Charlie looks on, seemingly pleased with herself. You aren’t sure how she pulled it off, but you suppose she must have succeeded in de-escalating the fight between those two.

“Oh, I see you’ve met my girlfriend!” Charlie says, walking over to you.

“Your girlfriend?” Lucifer says, quickly untangling himself from Angel. “You like girls? S-so do I! We have so much in common!” He says, pointing his finger from himself to Charlie in a repetitive manner.

“It’s uh- it's nice to meet you. Sir,” Vaggie says, standing up to shake Lucifer’s hand. To which he grabs her hand but then quickly pulls her in for a brief hug. The hug seems to blindside Vaggie momentarily and ends before she can return it. Still, she doesn’t seem unhappy about it.

“I’m Niffty!” Comes a voice from your right. Sure enough, it’s Niffty who’s come to see you next. “You’re taller than me, even though I’m older. That’s fine, though! I don’t mind at all!” She says, stabbing at a nearby roach with her needle, a crazed look in her eye.

You shuffle away from Niffty…

…And bump right into Sir Pentious on the way.

“Oh, h-hello there,” he says, looking oddly nervous. “Ssorry, I uh…I do not know how to eh, conversse with people of your kind.” You blink at him, and he grabs his collar as if sweaty.

“By ‘people of your kind’ do you mean…kids?” You ask. Pentious nods. “Just talk to me how you would everyone else. If it helps, you can think of me like how you think of Niffty?”

“Sscary…?”

“I meant more like…a short person,” Niffty runs past you briefly, stabbing at another roach with her needle, “-but I get where you’re coming from,” you say.

The rest of the day follows more or less the same beats as the episode it was based on. Lucifer and Alastor have unexplained beef with each other, they sing a song about it (where does the music come from?), Charlie’s daddy issues get resolved via another song (seriously, where is the music coming from? Did they improv this?), and Mimzy appears. Soon enough, it’s time to leave. Charlie is hugging you and your Dad goodbye when an idea occurs to you.

“Hey, Dad? Charlie?” You say, feeling a bit nervous. “Do you mind if I stay here? I want to help out with the hotel.” It’s been seven years since you arrived in hell, but you still remember every detail of the show from having written it down as soon as you could write. With your knowledge, you might be able to help move things along more easily.

Maybe you can protect your sister from making a deal with the Radio Demon.

“Oh, honey, I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” Lucifer says, looking down at you.

“Eh, why not? Let the kid stay, for Christ’s sake,” Angel pipes up from the bar. “We could use someone ta’ liven the place up a bit.”

“Sweetie, you’ve never even stayed the night away from home before. Are you sure you want to stay in the hotel?” You nod.

“Charlie will be there with me! And you won’t be that far away, either! Please, Daddy?” You give Lucifer your best puppy-dog eyes, the ones you know he’s weak to. Lucifer looks away from you, clearly conflicted.

“Alright,” he relents. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” you say, a tad too eager.

“I’m staying here with you.”

“Is that okay?” You turn to Charlie.

“Of course!” she says. “I’ll go get your rooms set up right away–”

“Room,” Lucifer corrects. “We, uh, wouldn’t want to take up too much space.”

“Oh no, no, no, it’s fine, we’ve got plenty of room for both of-”

“Just one room is enough for us,” he says, his voice final. You want to protest, being a fully grown adult (in your own head, at least), but you know your father won’t budge on this. He must miss feeling like a father, having one grown child and another who acts like they’re grown already. You should let him have this/

“Uh, sure,” Charlie says. “I’ll go get one ready for you, then.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“So,” you say, looking over to Vaggie. The room is empty, save for you two. It’s the perfect time to start putting your plan into action. “How’d your hurt your eye? I thought Exorcists were supposed to be invulnerable.” Vaggie freezes, a horrified expression on her face as she turns to look at you.

“How did you know that I’m an Exorcist?”

“You have a giant ‘X’ over your eye and wield an angelic spear. It isn’t rocket science,” you say, because it’s the first thing that came to mind.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she says, voice almost a whisper.

“Charlie knows, though, right?” You ask, already knowing the answer. Vaggie remains silent. “I think you should tell her. Keeping secrets from your partner only builds distrust, and it’s not like she wouldn’t forgive you.”

“It’s not that easy,” Vaggie says, moving to sit on the couch. You sit beside her, waiting for her to go on. “I mean, you try telling your girlfriend that saved your life that not only have you been lying to her for years, but that you’ve also killed hundreds of her people. The same people that you’re now trying to save.”

“Well,” you say, shifting a little closer. “I think that last part is what’s really important here.”

“What? The part about me killing hundreds?”

“The part about you trying to save hundreds. I think that speaks to how much you’ve changed over the years. You’ve done things in your past that you aren’t proud of. Everyone has. But now you’re trying to make things right. I mean, you love her, don’t you?” Vaggie nods. “And she loves you?” Another nod. “Then what’s the issue? You guys are a good pair, and you’ll get through this. But first, you have to be honest with her.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she says, looking down.

“I know I am. Now go. Go and tell your girlfriend the truth. Make sure she understands your point of view. Don’t just tell her and leave. Sit down and really explain where you’re coming from, okay?”

“Okay,” she says. “You know, you give some really good advice, for a kid.”

“I know I do. Now, shoo, get outta here.” Vaggie smiles at you, then moves to get up. You give her a thumbs up, silently praying for things to go well for her.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“Charlie, there’s something I need to tell you,” Vaggie says, closing the door to their shared room behind her. “It’s um, I mean, you might wanna, uh, sit down for this…”

“Is it bad?” Charlie asks, her face creased with worry.

“No—I mean, yes— I mean, maybe?”

“What is it?” Vaggie sighs, running a hand through her hair. She moves to sit down, and Charlie moves to sit with her, taking Vaggie’s hand in hers. “You know I love you, right?” Vaggie nods.

“I—I’m—I…I can’t do this,” she says, abruptly getting up and walking to the door.

“Wait!” Charlie says, standing to block her. “Hold on! You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“No.” Vaggie shakes her head.

“Then it’s fine, isn’t it? We’ll be okay.” Charlie takes Vaggie’s hands in hers and Vaggie feels herself begin to tear up. She hastily moves her hands to wipe at the tears, missing the hurt look that briefly crosses her lover’s face. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Vaggie nods, throat dry. She needs a drink, water, alcohol, something.

“I…” Charlie nods along, an encouraging smile on her face. “I’m an exorcist,” she says at last.

Charlie's face drops. She and Vaggie stare at each other for a long time before Charlie steps up to speak. “...Why are you telling me this now? Why keep it secret for so long?” She says at last.

“I…I’m not proud of it,” Vaggie says. “I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you but I just…I was scared.”

“Vaggie, you know I believe in redemption more than anyone else. What were you scared of?”

“I don’t know. I just—I didn’t want to have this conversation. With you. With anyone. When I first got here, I didn’t know you, I couldn’t trust you with my past, and then as more time passed and we got to know each other, it felt like it was too late. Like I couldn’t say it anymore without it becoming this huge thing. Every day, the secret got bigger and bigger, and I…I felt like I was drowning.” Vaggie looks down, ashamed.

“Vaggie,” Charlie says, once again taking Vaggie’s hands in hers. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” She rubs her thumb against her hand comfortingly.

“Are…are we okay?”

“Of course,” she says. “I love you, Vaggie.”

“I love you, too.”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

“You know, you never did tell me how you hurt your eye,” you say, looking over to Vaggie.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because if angels can be hurt, they can probably be killed, too. I want to believe in Charlie’s hotel, but having a backup plan is always good.”

“An ex-colleague of mine slashed my eye right after she took my wings,” Vaggie says with a sigh.

“What did she use?”

“An angelic spear. Same as all of us.” You hum, pretending to ponder the information you were just given. Should you just drop the act and tell Vaggie you know what Carmilla did on the last extermination, or should you keep nudging her in the right direction?

“Carmilla Carmine deals in angelic weapons, doesn’t she? Maybe she knows something we don’t.”

“Doubt it,” she says. “Not even the other exorcists knew we weren’t invulnerable, and whether or not we can be killed is still up in the air.” You make a noise of displeasure. Without the information that Carmilla definitely killed an exorcist, Vaggie won’t do anything, but there’s no plausible explanation for how you could have come across such information. But if you don’t tell her, Charlie will end up making a deal with Alastor… But if you just give her the answer, Vaggie won’t fight with Carmilla and regain her wings…In the actual show, Alastor only relayed that Carmilla killed an angel, and Charlie took it from there. You should do the same.

“Vaggie, there’s something I need to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else or ask any questions, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Promise me,” you say, holding up your pinkie. Vaggie obliges, and the room turns red with your deal. She looks shocked, her singular eye wide as she stares at your intertwined fingers, but the shock doesn’t last as you quickly move on to more pressing matters. “Last extermination, Carmilla Carmine killed an exorcist. I don’t know how she did it, but you need to go there and find out.” Vaggie opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. You suppose she must have been trying to ask a question, but the strength of your deal must have prevented her from doing so. “Please, Vaggie. Something’s going to happen during extermination day, I can feel it.” Seeming to sense your desperation Vaggie at last relents.

“Okay, I’ll go talk to Carmilla,” she says.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist: @Halparkebitch @American-idiot21 @Toast-on-dandelioms @Mixplara

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lucifer #hazbin husk #platonic hazbin hotel #niffty #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #sir pentious

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lovelybee666 · 3 months

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Can we get some part 2 of yandere! Catnap x reader?

Author's note: I was just progressing on a sequel

PART 2!

YANDERE CATNAP

(part 1)

CATNAP

• You don't know how long you've been locked up, you stopped counting from the third week

• Catnap daily was going to watch you in complete silence while you begged him to untie you, Now it's was somekind of routine for Catnap.

• Every day you got hungrier and hungrier, Catnap never fed you or anything, he just watched you for hours.

• You were desperate, you needed to escape, you needed to eat, you needed to get out.

• You've spent so much time locked up that you don't even remember your friends' faces.

• You tried to find any way to get out but you couldn't, first because you were tied too well and if you manage to escape you don't even want to know what Catnap would do.

• You were currently biting your handcuffs trying to remove them but there was a noise from above that didn't let you concentrate

• You could hear people running, children screaming or that's what you assumed because it didn't occur to you why someone would scream like that

• It was strange to you, you never heard anything like this, They weren't playing, definitely not.

• They spent a long time shouting and running until from one moment to the next you only heard silence.

• You got worried because you didn't understand what was happening so you tried to free yourself from the handcuffs, You continued with your thing until you heard someone walking but it was different.

• You doubted it was Catnap or that was until you saw your cell.

• It was Catnap but at the same time it wasn't, he was on all fours and looked bigger (imagine Catnap's model but without the bones being visible)

• He looked at you for a few seconds and then he looked at the door of your cell, he looked at you again and slowly opened the door of your cell.

• You walked away from him but at one point you collided with the wall preventing you from moving back, he got closer to your face to the point where you could feel Catnap's breathing and He grabbed your head with one of his front paws as he dragged you somewhere, You didn't say anything, he scared you before, now just seeing his eyes left you still as a stick.

• He took you outside, everything looked so different.

• There were many bodies of workers, children and even toys, everything was full of blood and destroyed.

• You didn't say anything, you just looked in shock.

• Catnap looked at you and let you go making you fall to the ground, he looked at you for another few seconds and turned around looking for something or someone.

• you stayed a little when he let you fall to the ground and you continued looking at the orphanage where there were once many happy and smiling children.

They thought Catnap was going to kiss them (please tell me no) WELL NO☺️! I honestly didn't like this sequel

BTW I HAVE TO SAY A FEW THINGS

1. With the screaming and shit I meant "joy time" (I forgot if it was joy time or something else)

2. Catnap continues to stalk you, he just has no reason to hide from you anymore.

3. In the part where Catnap grabs your head, it's like when cat moms grab their kids, only that here he grabs you with his hand and grabs your head.

#catnap #catnap x reader #smiling critters x reader #smilling critters #yandere catnap x reader #yandere catnap #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader

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soapsilly · 3 months

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PDA - Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?), also kinda NSFW?

Summary: Zoro showing a lot of PDA in front of Sanji because he knows it bothers him

Requests are closed

A/N: Unofficial sequel to Cardio. But works as a stand alone.

************************************************************************

"(Y/N)-san! I'm sorry I left you alone on this ship with this pervert! I promise I'll make it up to you"

"What did you just call me, ero-cook?"

"You heard me! If you just as much as put a single finger on (Y/N)-san I'll make you regret it"

"Sorry, to disappoint you, but I did a little more than that", Zoro laughed.

It's been a few weeks since the crew barged in on Zoro and (Y/N). Nothing really changed between them. (Y/N) was still shamelessly flirting with the mosshead and Zoro didn't really reciprocate - at least not in public. He was never the type for public displays of affection but when the two of them were alone, the swordfighter didn't have any problem to show the girl how much he enjoyed her company.

"You looked so good today", he mumbled against her lips.

"So usually I look bad?", she grinned - her smart mouth getting the best of her again.

"Too bad you still don't have a filter", he rolled his eye but didn't loosen his grip around her waist.

"But you love me for it", she laughed.

He exhaled audibly but didn't protest.

The two of them decided not to complicate things. They'd rather just let the relationship progress naturally. For the moment, neither of them would change a thing being happy with the way things were.

************************************************************************

"It's so nice to finally have some free time again", Nami sighed - already excited for a long overdue shopping trip.

"We shouldn't leave the ship unattended", (Y/N) nudged Zoro in the side not really caring about exposing her true intentions. She knew that her lover would be up for some alone time - which was confirmed by the smile that the swordsman failed to keep off of his face.

But it was not only (Y/N) that noticed. The mosshead's smile didn't go unnoticed by a certain curly-browed cook either.

"I'll be keeping you company, (Y/N)-san! There are a few new creations that I wanted to test out anyways", Sanji exclaimed.

(Y/N) was just about to protest when Nami's voice cut her off, "Yeah, that's probably a great idea. These two need a chaperone! We don't need any little Zoros and (Y/N)s running around deck!"

(Y/N) pulled a face, "Seriously? Sex has never ever sounded so unappealing"

"And don't you forget it!", the read-head scolded, "Always think about the full diapers and the disrupted night sleep"

(Y/N) tried to drown Nami's words out by putting her hands over her ears and singing loudly.

However, it wasn't just (Y/N) who had a problem with the thought. Zoro's eye darted over to where Sanji was standing. It was almost unnoticable but for the fraction of a second the cook's face twitched when Nami started her rant. At this moment, the swordsman got an idea to still make the afternoon worthwhile.

"Can we go now?", their captain interrupted the discussion - eager to raid the market place for street food.

Zoro threw his arm around a confused (Y/N)'s shoulder. This was the first time that her lover actually touched her in front of the others. Before she could say anything though, Zoro spoke up, "Yeah, you guys leave and we'll hold the fort here. Right, babe?"

"Uh, yeah sure...", (Y/N) blushed at the little nickname.

And with that the crew parted ways. (Y/N), Zoro and Sanji remaining on the ship while the rest of the crew made their way towards the city.

"So, it's just us now, huh?", (Y/N) tried to overcome the awkwardness. Spending a whole afternoon on the ship together with these two didn't seem very appealing to her. But surprisingly these two mortal enemies weren't at each other's throats immediately.

"Well, since our plans have been so rudely interrupted", the mosshead turned towards the cook, "Why don't we squeeze in a training session?", Zoro asked his girlfriend - his voice almost soft. After hours and hours of asking, (Y/N) had finally worn down the swordfighter. So, lately Zoro agreed to let the girl join him during practice. On one hand, her constant pleading got on his nerves so that he partly agreed just to shut her up. On the other hand, though, training with her meant he got to spend time with her. To him, she looked adorable as she was trying to figure out the steps and maneuvers. And if she ever needed correction with her stance, he wouldn't complain either.

"I'd say you're welcome to join us, waiter. But I don't think you could handle it anyways", Zoro mocked the blonde. And of course Zoro's words had the desired effect as the cook immediately started cussing out the mosshead - swearing to make him look old in any type of training.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Of course, the peace didn't last long, "Oi, Sanji? Didn't you actually want to try out some new recipes or something?"

She didn't mind the cook's company but she knew if Sanji and Zoro were to actually train together, their competition would be anything but friendly and she didn't feel like a headache today. To her surprise, Zoro just shrugged though, "You can try, ero-cook"

And with that the three of them started their work-out. Almost provocatively Zoro took off his robe, showing off his body and sending (Y/N) a cheeky wink. He knew the effect he had on the girl.

"We should start with some stretching first", he announced - his arm already behind his back.

(Y/N) decided to get on the floor, working on her lower body first, whilst Sanji was bent over easily touching his toes without any issue.

"(Y/N)-san, you're so flexible~", the cook complimented the girl.

"Hm, I don't know. I think she could do better", Zoro acted thoughtful, as he walked over to where (Y/N) was standing, trying to reach her toes aswell. Her fingertips just graced the floorboards but that wasn't enough for the swordsman. He positioned himself behind her, his crotch dangerously close to her backside. With a gentle hand he pressed down on her lower back to help her bend over even further, so that her palms fully touched the ground.

With a soothing voice, her lover praised her and while (Y/N) enjoyed the personal attention, she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't confused. She wasn't used to him being so gentle with her when other people were around. What she didn't see from her bend over position however, was the look Zoro and Sanji exchanged. The mosshead sent the other man a gloating smile, which only got wider as he saw how blonde struggled to keep his composure.

"Oi, Marimo! When you're finished harassing, (Y/N)-san, how about a sparring session?", there was nothing he wanted to do more than to beat up the brute that dared to lay his calloused fingers on a lady. The cook was of the opinion that a beautiful woman should only be touched in the most gentle way - a word the marimo probably didn't even know.

Zoro barked out a laugh - (Y/N) long forgotten. Fighting with the ero-cook was one of his favourite past-times.

(Y/N) knew there was no way her lover would continue their practice anymore. Instead she decided to just keep exercising on her own and to leave the two guys to it - not feeling like getting into the path of fire.

After an hour or so, the two of them didn't show any sign of slowing down but the girl decided she had enough, "Hey guys? Guys? Oi!"(Y/N) clapped into her hands loudly to get the two frenemies' attention. Almost immediately the men stopped what they were doing.

"While I do enjoy watching two handsome men exhaust themselves physically", she sent Zoro a wink, "I think this is enough. I'll go take a shower and afterwards we should probably get started on dinner. You know how hangry Luffy can get"

"Of course, (Y/N)-san~", the cook was delighted by her compliment, "I'll create the most exquisite menu just for you"

The girl thanked her friend, by now she gave up on the idea of convincing the blonde that he didn't have to do all that. It seemed to make him happy, so she just decided to enjoy the perks of having the talented cook at her service.

"Great, while you do that, we'll go take that shower", Zoro spoke up.

(Y/N) head whipped around to face the mosshead, who could barely hold back a smile. He, however, wasn't facing her at all. His smile was not directed at her and her surprised reaction but rather at Sanji, who by the looks of it was not amused about his suggestion at all. (Y/N) massaged the bridge of her nose in no mood for these two to start fighting again.

"Okay, we'll do that", she grabbed Zoro's hand and pulled him with her. However, Zoro had other ideas. While (Y/N) was walking in front of him the swordsman's hands reached out to pinch the girl's sides teasingly which earned him a surprised yelp from his lover.

"Oi, idiot! Who do you think you are? Leave your dirty hands off of (Y/N)-san!", Sanji yelled towards the couple.

"Oh, does it bother you?", Zoro yelled back, "Good thing, (Y/N) likes it"

"(Y/N)-san! Just say a word and I'll save you from this... this... pervert!", Sanji's voice was soft as he adressed the girl but grew harsher towards the end - his dig clearly directed towards the marimo.

"Thank you, Sanji, I'll keep it in mind!", she yelled back at her friend as she tried to usher Zoro, who was loudly protesting the cook's claims -inside the Sunny towards the bathroom.

Once inside, (Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh, this isn't how she expected her afternoon to go. Zoro, however, didn't waste any time attacking her lips with his own. His hands everywhere they could reach.

"Oi, you okay?", Zoro asked almost nonchalantly when he realized that (Y/N) hesitated to return the kiss - as if he wasn't the cause of her desperation.

"Respectfully, what the fuck?", (Y/N) answered the mosshead.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I'm not complaining but how come you're so touchy-feely all of a sudden? And let me repeat. I'm not complaining. At all. It's just... unusual is all...", she rambled - not wanting Zoro to feel like he crossed a line.

"Oh, that", he smiled, "I noticed PDA bothers that shitty cook, so naturally I had to play it up"

"Of course", (Y/N)'s voice was sarcastic.

"Are you mad?", the swordfighter acted unbothered - like he couldn't see how that could possibly offend the girl - but in actuality he was worried that he took things a step too far. He knew she was okay with their arrangement. He know that it didn't bother her that he only showed affection towards her when the two of them were alone. She once told him that it made it even more special. But would she be okay with him suddenly publicly flirting with her just to spite the shitty cook? His eye scanned her face, searching for any sign of hurt. He couldn't always show it but he cared about (Y/N) a lot - more than anyone else in the crew.

(Y/N)'s face turned soft when she realized that the man in front of her was actually insecure. She reached out to cup his face and press a gentle kiss on his lips. When they parted, he was relieved to see her smile.

"Of course, I'm not mad! In fact, I think it's hilarious... if anything I'm mad that you didn't fill me in on it", she grinned, "If I had known, I'd have enjoyed it more"

"Oh, so now you didn't enjoy it?", this time it was him, that teased the girl with a lopsided smile on his face.

"I did! I really did! But my confusion kind of overshadowed the pleasure", she tried to assure him.

"Don't you worry", he started to undress her, "I'll take care of that"

His hands were gentle as he pulled her towards him by the small of her back.

"Who do you think you are? Touching me with those calloused hands", she scolded him. He paused what he was doing until she finally broke into a giggle.

"I can always count on you to ruin the moment", he sighed when he realized what she was up to. Quoting the ero-cook was the last thing he wanted from her.

"But you love me for it", she smiled up at him.

"Shut up", he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss before leading her into the shower.

************************************************************************

When the two entered the dining room after the shower, the kitchen was already filled with the steam from whatever the cook was preparing. The two were greeted with the most delicious of smells. (Y/N) sometimes seriously asked herself how the cook could be this good and still improve with every meal he prepared.

"Wow, Sanji this smells great!", she beamed at the blonde, who by the looks of it couldn't be any more pleased about the praise. After all, the way to a loved one's heart is through their stomach.

"And this is only the beginning (Y/N)-san", the cook explained happily - hinting that there'd be more to come.

"Is there anything I can help you with?", she asked the cook, knowing he'd probably decline.

"You are too kind, (Y/N)-san ~ ! But I couldn't possibly take you up on your offer. A beautiful lady like you should never have to prepare her own food - in fact, you should be served~"

"Oh, but I insist", (Y/N) smiled. Anybody that knew her also knew how stubborn she could be, so after a little back and forth Sanji eventually agreed to let (Y/N) stirr some pots and maybe even wash some vegetables.

Zoro decided to take a seat at the dinner table, watching the two of them do their thing whilst enjoying a drink. He would never admit it but watching (Y/N) do mundane tasks was one his favourite things. He loved seeing her being lost in whatever she was doing. The way her brows creased whenever she was concentrated or how she started mumbling to herself if things didn't go her way. This was more than a innocent flirt and even more than a friends with benefits type of arrangement - at least for him. Her company was one of the few pleasures his life had to offer. At first he was annoyed by her everlasting presence, the way she wouldn't shut up, the constant flirts but now he couldn't imagine a life without her. He was so lost in his thoughts that he wasn't even bothered by the shitty cook prancing around her.

One after the other all the Straw Hats arrived into the dining area - just in time for dinner. As everyone gathered around the table, the space next to Zoro remained free. By now, the crew was used to (Y/N) exclusively sitting next to the swordsman. When she finally plopped down next to him, her hand almost automatically found it's way to rest on her lovers leg. Zoro didn't seem to mind the PDA. Usually, the girl refrained from touching the mosshead while in the company of the others - respecting his boundaries - instead only choosing to show her affection verbally. But right now, she decided it was fair game after the stunt the swordsman pulled on her.

"And what do you think you're doing?", Zoro leaned down, speaking lowly so that only she could hear him. (Y/N) could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Do you want me to stop?", she turned to face him - their faces now merely an inch apart.

For a moment it felt like the world stood still around them but then the two lovebirds were interrupted by their navigator.

"Come on, guys! At dinner?", Nami was not amused about the scene that unfolded before her very eyes.

"Seems like Sanji isn't the only one bothered by PDA", (Y/N) grinned but her voice was soft.

"Well, if that's the case, it seems like I'll have to keep this going", Zoro answered - his voice just as low.

Both of them knew that all of this may have started as a means to annoy the cook but by now it was merely an excuse to keep the open display of affection going. Seeing (Y/N) in private was just not enough for him anymore. What harm could a little - just a little - PDA do anyways?

"The things you do to me", he slowly shook his head.

"But you love me for it"

Usually, Zoro easily dismissed her little catchphrase but this time he couldn't quite deny it. Maybe he did. And maybe she knew that. But maybe that wasn't so bad...

#roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece

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an-ambivalent · 10 months

Text

Woes of Reincarnation Part 2 [Yandere! Miguel x Fem! Reader]

Chapter Synopsis: You’re an Alchemax neuroscientist specializing in genetics and cognition memory research. Outside of work, you spend majority of your time with your daughter Gabriella and your partner Miguel. For the most part, you loved your life - you had a thriving career, a lovely daughter, and your wonderful stay-at-home partner who supported you and cared for your small bundle of joy in ways you were unable to. But slowly but surely, something starts to seem amiss with your husband and you realise that Miguel is not who you knew him to be. This is a sequel to this

Warnings: As this is yandere fiction, this deals with behaviours and themes of that can be uncomfortable to read. Specific warnings: implied noncon. This work also has spoilers about Miguel from the comics. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional, I do not condone this behaviour irl. By clicking the ‘read more/keep reading’ you are consenting to read this at your discretion.

Establishing yourself at your current point in career was a lot of work hard; from extensive studying, to jumping from one temporary contracted job to another, it often made you want to hit your head against the wall in frustration. Amidst all the chaos, the universe threw even more at you; just as you were finishing your PHD, and were starting to climb your career ladder, you had found out that you were pregnant. It was nerve wrecking, stressful, exciting, and involved so many other emotions and tears, and pondering over countless of future possibilities. Becoming overwhelmed from all of this was beginning to drive you mad. But lucky for you, Miguel was the perfect anchor to your chaotic storm of thoughts; he was with you every step of the way and was amazing at providing you the reassurance you needed. After your daughter was born, whom you had named Gabriella, things had been very challenging at first: you had to look after your daughter while still having your own recovery. Miguel took on additional responsibilities while also trying to look after you and your daughter as well. Eventually, after a few years passed, it became easier to manage and cope with the challenges that came with looking after a tiny human. Both of you decided that you were going to work full-time at your new job, while Miguel would be the stay at home partner to look after Gabriella.

Over the years, you made exceptional progress in your career until you got to your current position. While you really enjoyed your work in the past, recently, it was starting to become too stressful and impact your mental health. There was a certain feeling of being done etched in your body language. And despite the fact that you looked after your physical health, there was a new type of dullness on your face in place of your usual genuine contentment, and the glint of mischief that always gleamed in your eyes and smiles was starting to disappear.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you unlocked the front door and entered your abode. You took off your outdoor shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, while simultaneously slipped your feet in your indoor slippers. As you walked through the hallway and into the main living room, you raised your eyebrow in surprise when you saw Miguel leaning against the kitchen counter closest to you, with his back turned against you, and nervously tapping his index finger on the counter’s marble surface.

“What are you doing here?” You asked simply, and threw your jacket and keys carelessly on the dinning table as you walked towards the kitchen.

Your usual very composed and charismatic husband jumped at the sound of your voice. He whipped around in shock, his eyes wide, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He seemed even more jumpy when you neared him in proximity, grabbed onto the collar of his white shirt, and strongly pulled him down to your level for a chaste kiss as a greeting. Usually, your pecks that started out as a quick greeting, would turn into deeper, and more passionate kisses, almost into a full make out session. But that wasn’t the case this time around; this time around, Miguel was simple frozen in surprise as you kissed him. He did not respond back, and his hands were raised and stilled awkwardly in mid air as if he was going to push you away, but didn’t due to some last minute realisation. It was very strange because he never hesitated to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer until there was no physical space left, and one of his hands would be tangled messily in your locks. The awkwardness of the entire situation made you pull away instantly, and there was even more confusion evident in your eyebrow raise. Nonetheless, you released your hold on him, and started to work your way around the kitchen like your usual evening routine.

“I’m surprised that you’re already home. Picking up Gabriella from her tennis practice and the groceries, you usually wouldn’t be home for another hour,” You remarked causally, while you put on your bright pink apron that had ‘Kiss the chief’ written on it. It was one of the gifts your Miguel and Gabriella had given you on the most recent mother’s day, so anytime you wore it, they had an excuse to shower you in kisses.

Miguel blinked owlishly, as he stared hard at the words written on your apron for for a good few seconds, before returning his gaze to you. He showed no signs of moving closer to you to kiss you like he usually would.

“Uh, doesn’t she have tennis practice on Tuesdays and not today? Besides, I don’t have the car.” He responded simply.

You blinked at him in confusion. “She has her practice today - she has her coaching on Tuesdays and her club games on Friday. And what do you mean you don’t have the car? I left the keys in front of the TV and its parked right outside on the street...? We talked about it this morning - you dropped me off to work and I took the train back. This is no new information, come on Miguel,” You retorted, and opened the fridge to get the needed ingredients you required to make dinner. However, there was barely anything in there - your eye twitched. You turned to Miguel with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“How come you didn’t go grocery shopping?” You asked. Just as Miguel was about to respond, your eyes widened in another realisation.

“Don’t tell me you forgot to pick up Gabriella?! No wonder I don’t hear her trotting around! Miguel! What’s wrong with you today?!” You snapped, and instantly untied your apron, and took it off instantly.

At the shift of annoyance in your tone, Miguel’s eyebrow twitched in anger. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know - this wasn’t even meant to be his responsibility. It was supposed to be your Miguel’s responsibility but he was dead now. He simply chose to replace him in this dimension because he had a family; he felt sorry for the young child who had lost her father, and a bit sorry for you, who would have been a full-time working single mother if you had found that your husband was dead. He was doing you a favour, and you had no idea how grateful you should be. But alas, you were so bossy instead. He wanted to reveal the truth so he could see the reaction on your face, but he couldn’t disclose anything. For his young child, he would endure.

“You didn’t tell me to do so,” He responded coldly, since there was no other way he knew how to carry out his argument.

You were so confused by his response that you had to stop for moment and gather your thoughts. You blinked at him in confusion, even more so, when you noticed the anger on his face - Miguel never got angry that easily.

“It’s the same routine every week...? What’s there to tell?” You murmured to yourself. You glanced at him once more, and you looked at him from the top of his head, to the soles of his feet in scrutiny multiple times. Upon closer inspection, you saw something different about him; the exhaustion in his body - it was an exact reflection of yours. He looked like he was done. It made you think: had you been so busy thinking about your own problems at work that you forgot to check in with your own husband? Had you relied on him to take care of you and Gabriella so much that you forgot to do your part and look after him?!

Guilt wallowed up in your chest, and your throat started to feel constricted - you were starting to feel anxious again. However, just before your anxiety could overwhelm you, you pushed it down. Miguel needed you right now, not the other way around.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, love. I shouldn’t have done that. I guess work’s been too stressful,” You mumbled, and then, walked closer to Miguel. The Spider-Man was genuinely surprised at the quick apology that left your lips; he was even more shocked when you walked in front of him once more, and gave him a bright grin. He was taken back by how beautiful you looked when you were smiling and the way your face glowed when a hint of joy shone through.

“We both seem to be having a tough time today, how about we get things done together and just relax? Let’s go pick up our cheeky munchkin and order in, we’ll get your favourite! Sounds good?” You said grinning wider, and cheekily swung your hip against his. Given his build and strength as Spider-Man, it barely did anything. But your joy and cheekiness was contagious because Miguel returned your grin with a playful scoff off his own. Instinctively, he lifted you up easily, and the suddenness of the gesture made you yelp in surprise. You easily wrapped your legs around his tiny slutty waist as he supported your weight by holding you in both of his arms, and wrapped your arms around his neck. You combed through his soft brown locks with one of your hands, and leaned closer to his face; Miguel felt flustered.

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered softly, looking at him with so much love and longing in your eyes as if he had hung up the moon and stars for you. No one had looked at him with so much love before. Miguel felt flustered. Instead of answering you, he tightened his hold onto you, as he brought you closer to him until you were absolutely squished against his physique. He felt more muscular than before, and his grip on you felt more possessive rather than his usual protective one. But, you weren’t the one to complain since this was so much better than the awkwardness from before.

Miguel moved his arms so he supported your weight with one, and held the back of your head with the other. Then, he guided you down until your lips locked. It was a nice kiss, a bit clumsy than usual, but nice nonetheless. He didn’t want to follow your lead like he usually did, so you tried to follow his lead instead. It was definitely different, even more so, when you felt him bite your bottom lip hard. You yelped in pain and tried to pull away from him. Your efforts were fruitless for a few seconds until Miguel eased his grip at the back of your head. Just as he let you go, enough blood gathered instantly at the spot you were bitten on your lip that it started to drip down your chin. Immediately, Miguel licked it and then gazed at you with his disheveled hair hovering above the predatory and lust gleaming in his red eyes. Both of you breathed heavily, but he wore a giant grin that showed off his canines. When did Miguel have canines?

“What you said sounded good, but I would like it much better if we could relax, just the two of us, later tonight.”

***

Once upon a time, Miguel was a bright and innovative scientist himself. He was intelligent and quick to grasp things. For that reason, it didn’t take him long to adapt to the same lifestyle that the original Miguel of this dimension was living. Actually, this domestic life was so much better and easier than his job had been at Alchemax. Maybe, it was easy because he genuinely came to love it; he loved his daughter Gabriella like he had anticipated he would. But first impressions aside, he was also surprised at how quickly he came to love you. You were just so caring and attentive, and everytime you smiled your lovely smile, he swore, cupid’s arrow shot through his heart. You always looked at him with so much love - and it didn’t just end there - you always showed your love through actions too. Every morning when you woke up, before going to sleep, coming home, before leaving, and if you saw each other just after a few hours, you always kissed him. They were such passionate kisses too - it was addictive. All of your little quirks and the constant displays of affection were addictive. For once, Miguel was constantly surrounded by love and happiness. He loved it, and he was going to do anything to protect it.

Although he did love his current life, there were some things that he did wish could be better - like how he wished he could spend more time with you. He had been trying to talk you into reducing your work hours, because recently, it seemed like you just were getting busier and busier. Your acts of affection, your long lasting kisses -- everything was becoming quicker and more rushed. The nights of intimacy you shared often when he had first came into your life versus recently, were much fewer too. It was distraughting and almost starting to feel frustrating because he had become accustomed to everything you had given him. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how he had ever managed to live without having you by his side. Now, it was almost to the point where he felt that his even spider craved you.

It was another night like the one’s recently. Presently, it was just after 9:30 pm, half an hour after Gabriella has been put to bed. Miguel had just come out of a steaming hot shower - his skin carried an underlying darker red hue indicating just how boiling hot the water had to be, and he only wore a small white towel around his hips. He was hoping that giving you a preview would help him finally get another night of sex with you. But the moment he had stepped out of your shared ensuite, and was browsing through your shared closet, pretending to look for clothes, you paid no attention to him. Instead, you were entirely focused on the folders of paperwork labelled ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ in big block red letters that you had been bringing home from work every, single, fucking, day.

Come to think of it, exactly what was your job? Why were you the one that had chosen to work rather than his alternate deceased self? Surely, if his deceased self was also a scientist at Alchemax like he had been, he had to be making more than enough money.

In the end, Miguel mindless chose to wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. He climbed into your shared bed with you, and snatched your papers from your hands. You yelped when this happened suddenly, and immediately tried to wrestle Miguel for them as he started to look over their content himself.

“What the hell, Miguel?! Give those back to me right now! That’s confidential!” You yelled, while trying to climb over him in whatever way you could to get your paperwork back. Miguel simply ignored you, and easily held you back with one arm, while holding up the papers with his other hand, and reading them.

It read:

“ALCHEMAX PROPERTY

ONGOING RESEARCH PROGREES: PROJECT DIMCOG6.V - COGNITION AND MEMORY THROUGH THE MULTIVERSE

RESEARCH LEAD: [Name] O’Hara

‘-utlising deep learning neural networks, we have managed to analyse microarray data at an anatomical level[1]. Given this groundbreaking discovery, we can hypothetically give ourselves false memories of living in another universe and completely alter our reality. Or, we could even transfer the psych of our alternative self to our current self. Tests will need to be conducted-”

“You’re... working for Alchemax?” Miguel asked in disbelief, looking at you with wide eyes - like he didn’t knew you at all. In a way, that was not far from the truth.

You took his shock as an opportunity to snatch your paperwork back, and scoffed at him. “Of course I am. I don’t see why you’re so surprised? You’re the one who told me to take the job when I was offered it.”

You carefully tied up your paperwork the way you had brought it from work, before setting it on the bedside table beside you. You turned towards Miguel and scowled at him.

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t just snatch my things. Seriously Miguel, what is with you recently? You’re so moody and quick to temper! I understand you may be stressed and I’m seriously trying my best to make things as easy as possible for you, but you can’t just do whatever you want. You know I’m having a really hard time at work right now as it is, I don’t need you making it the same for me at home. Back off a bit, yeah?” You snapped. Instantly, you turned away from him. You had been feeling your regular nightly migraine building up for a while, and the stress from dealing with Miguel just seemed to have triggered it. You took off your reading glasses so they were resting on your head instead of your nose; a heavy sigh left your lips as you rubbed your temple to try soothe your headache.

You failed to notice the angry red eyes that were glaring at you.

“I didn’t know that you were working for the filth of Alchemax.... And I didn’t tell you to take that job, I would never allow my own wife to betray me like that. If it really had been me, in the first place, you wouldn’t even be working.” Miguel hissed, as he had moved closer to you until his body was pressing right against your side. Then, he leaned closer to you, and gently nipped you right behind your earlobe. Chills went through your spine, and you groaned in frustration; you failed to understand exactly what Miguel words implied due to your horrible headache reducing your ability to focus.

“I don’t have the energy to worry about your nuances Miguel, nor do I have the energy for sex tonight. Just let me rest,” You murmured, and tried to swat at his arms he wrapped around you possessively.

You didn’t get the response you wanted - verbally or his actions wise. Instead, you screamed as Miguel pushed you so you laying on your back, and he sat on you immediately. From the impact, your glasses were swung backwards randomly and dug into the randomest part of your neck painfully. You winced and tried to move so they weren’t digging into your skin, but you were unable to move since Miguel had your wrists pinned down on the bed in each hand. He pushed all of his bodyweight on you making it hard to breath, and leaned down until he was right next to your ear.

“Let me rephrase what I said, and really listen this time, okay? You’re my smart little scientist, I’m sure you can figure it out.” He whispered sensually, and this time, bit your earlobe hard enough to draw blood.

You cried out in pain. You tried to wriggle yourself free, but your efforts continued to be in vain. When Miguel applied more pressure on your wrists to the point it felt like they were going to break, you stopped struggling. However, your breath started to pick up and your throat felt tight. Despite how light headed you felt, you understood that this wasn’t normal. His grip wasn’t normal - your Miguel would never do something like this. He had never raised his voice at you, much less be physically violent with you the way the stranger on top of you was being. So, for your own sake, you listened attentively to what he had to say.

“I didn’t tell you to take the job. I would never tell you to take any job, much less at Alchemax, especially after what they did to me. If it had been me, the me in front of you right now, I would keep you locked up in a safe little cage that I make just for you.”

Tears welled in the corner of your eyes. You hoped that what you were thinking wasn’t right.

“W-What they did to you...? You never told me? I, I don’t understand-” You tried to say. You weren’t sure if you were just repeating yourself like a parrot because there wasn’t enough oxygen flowing in your brain to think rationally, or you were desperately hoping that what you understood to be the truth, wasn’t actually the truth. Maybe it was both.

“I’m not your Miguel, I never was. Where I’m from, I used to be scientist at Alchemax. They spliced my DNA with a spider when I tried to quit,” Miguel started, and then, flashed his fangs at you. “I have access to many dimensions. I saw that the me of this dimension was killed and out of pity, I decided to take his place so Gabriella wouldn’t be fatherless and you wouldn’t be a single mother.

“You really pissed me off in our first interaction.... but now, now, I love you, I can’t see myself without you. I might not be your Miguel yet, but you are my [Name]. Thanks to your research, we can start again. I can figure out a way to change your memories so you’ll know me as your Miguel from the start. I’m sure there’s a dimension out there somewhere we can use.” He whispered in your ear, and then, grinded against you.

Goosebumps of repulsion and fear arose across your skin - you shook your head in denial.

“Don’t, please don’t do that. You have no idea what you’re messing with--”

“Shut up. Now that you know, you’re going to see what I would have done with you in the first place. I’m going to keep you locked up in a cage I make just for you. No work, no research, nothing for you. I’m going to keep you locked up so you’re not a tired cranky bitch and I’m going to be the only person you see. I’m going to make you so touch starved so that whenever you see me, you’re going to be nothing but yearning and desperate for any ounce of attention that I give you.”

Then, Miguel wrapped his hands around your neck, and pressed tightly onto your trachea until you passed out from the lack of oxygen. He grinned widely.

“Goodnight [Name]. We’ll meet again on the other side.”

***

[1] deep learning neural network is a type of AI technique that mimics the workings of a human brain. It’s used in neuroscience to study the complex intra- and interhemispheric coherence, and other brain regional interactions in relation to cognition and behaviour.

Microarray data refers to studying many genes at once. So, given all this, and how astrophysics works (if you were to be anywhere in the universe, like being pulled into a black hole or a neutron star), their ruthless gravity would literally tear you apart at your atoms level. So my theory is that, if you were to transfer “memories and cognition” through dimensions and defy the very essence of space and time, you’d need to have studied the neurobiology at the atoms level to the very least. [JUST MY THEORY BASED ON WHAT I KNOW ABOUT THESE SUBJECTS. I JUST WANTED TO NERD OUT OKAY]

[2] basically the ‘isekai’d’ reader’s memories in Part 1 can be understood in this way: in all the manipulation of memories that Miguel does after this, [Name] gets so many new memories implanted she eventually remembers all of this. She made an escape plan to stage her own death and live in the shadows with random memories planted (like she thinks she reincarnated and lived in a ‘different’ world) but thats actually just false memories. And given how much Miguel was trying to code that “she loves him” in her genes everytime he changed her memories, that turns into a false memory of him being her favourite character and that she “simps for” so she automatically wants to seek him out to meet him when she gets “reincarnated”

I hope everything I explained makes sense and that you enjoyed this! Let me know if you have any questions!

#yandere x reader #spiderman x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere spiderman #miguel x reader #yandere atsv #ambivalent writes

537 notes · View notes

2kiran · 10 months

Note

OH MY GOD THAT ENDING. THAT ENDINGGG. ....(could it be a lil teasy tease for part two)

“I CAN BE A BETTER BOYFRIEND THAN HIM: THE SEQUEL”

triad: simon “ghost” riley x könig x reader genre: smut reader is a male. dom!reader x sub!ghost x sub!könig cw: lowercase typing, german words, implied tall reader, threesome, possessiveness, bondage, exhibitionism kink, handjob, blowjob, cockwarming, mention of boot riding, marking, orgasm delay/denial

the beginning you sense that a specific someone had been watching you and könig.

as the week progresses, your suspicion progressed alongside it.

you and könig suffered a prolonged day entirely of orders and curt replies. it was by no other than your lieutenant, ghost. his callsign in your mind lead bitterness to your tongue, it was strange how he’s become irritable within a few days.

thoughts swarm, one leading to the other. in a trance, you didn’t realize könig had been staring at you from across the room. “liebling? are you okay?” (darling) his concerned voice led the silence away, “huh?” you dumbly reply. “oh, yeah. i am.” you blink, brain operating for the words. then, a thought. what if ghost saw that?

a wave of nervousness split your being in half. while the ‘incident’ had happened, you felt a pair of eyes on you. maybe it was könig? but it couldn’t had been. he was facing the wall almost the entire time. the group of soldiers didn’t see and the lieutenant left for a report. your heart thumped as you remembered what you had requested of ghost: to train with him.

he could’ve returned to the hall to find you once it ended, wandering aimlessly until he stumbled upon you and the colonel. as if he read your mind, he spoke, “ghost has, uh, been acting quite weird to only us, liebling. do you think...?” he trailed off, hoping you understood what he meant.

you sigh. a hand comes up and you pinch the bridge of your nose, contemplating.

“let’s talk to him.” his eyes widens like you’ve stabbed him, “what?!” his hand flew to the back of his clothed neck, rubbing circles agitatedly. “it’s obvious enough. he’s been avoiding us like we’re the plague.” you attempt to convince him. he bit his bottom lip, “okay.”

you visit the training room, immediately being greeted by the sight of gaz and soap sparring whilst ghost observed. “lieutenant,” you called. the two giving you a smile and a wave before lunging at each other. the man only glanced at you, “come with me.” your tone seeps into a commanding one even though he was your superior. “why?” he leaned away.

you thought for a moment, mind scrambling to create an excuse. “just need to show you something, it’ll be quick.” you gave him a little pout, and you swore he visibly tensed. as soon as he’s outside, you drag him by the wrist, catching him off guard. he was too stunned to resist you. seeming to only have returned to his body when the door shuts.

the room was dimly lit. it was quite empty, aside from the torchère, table, chair, and könig standing awkwardly with his hands full of rope. ghost instinctively took a step back, nearly colliding with your chest.

“ghost,” you begin, “did you see me and könig fucking in the hallway the other day?” embarrassment floods the colonel’s chest, he always impossibly became more flustered at your lewd words. ghost’s breath hitched. the atmosphere suffocated of tension. your hand travelled up his body, resting on his neckline. fingertips against his neck. you feel him gulp in anticipation.

it was vacant of avoidance for him. a few beats of silence passed.

“i did.” he grunted, words almost of regret. you drag him towards the chair, still there was no resistance. you realize that he was allowing you and könig to do as you pleased. he trusted you, and you weren’t going to let that fade.

könig melted from his statued state, body functioning at your presence. as ghost sat down, the colonel stood behind him. he knelt, bounding the lieutenant’s arms. in a squatting position, könig walked to the front of ghost’s body, bounding his ankles so the man couldn’t thrash properly. it was loose enough if ever he wished to escape. you call for the colonel.

he immediately walked over to you, eyes of determination and lust. you bent him over the table, right ahead of where ghost was sitting. you strip him of his pants and underwear, lubed hole displayed and a gasp from the man across. unzipping your pants and the absence of boxers, you slowly push inside of his hole. he moaned, delight in his features.

the ropes burned against ghost’s body as he attempted to make them budge. “please move.” könig begged, and you followed his request. the lieutenant’s cock ached in his pants. neglected of pleasure.

your hips clash against the back of könig’s thighs. a breathy moan emits from him. a hard thrust against his prostate leads to him reaching for the end of the table, desperately holding on for dear life. in the midst of his cries, he looks at the lieutenant. a cocky glint in his eyes. then, he began speaking. “mmmhhfgg! you fuck me s’good, mein liebling.” (my darling)

these were rare times where könig felt confident. or rather, possessive. he held the eye contact, very unlike him. whines of how well he takes you. a sudden whimper erupts from ghost.

“oh god— right there! right there — ahng! i’m close already, mein schatz. oh scheiße.” (my sweetheart, fuck) you continuously jab against his sweet spot, catching moan after moan from him. his sounds gain in pitch, signaling his upcoming climax. “nnnnggghh!! ‘m gonna—” your pace slows to a stop, hand gripping onto the end of his cock. he whimpered, the sensation of euphoria subsiding into naught. “sweetheart,” the word leaves you breathlessly, “i want you to suck ghost off. then, you’ll cum when i say you can.”

both of their eyes widen. you hear könig’s mouth open due to his drool, before shutting and nodding his head. you guide him towards ghost, who appeared to be hesitant. “are you sure you’re okay with this?” you ask the tied man, and he mumbles a ‘yes, sir’.

you were now situated on the chair with ghost in your lap, tight hole clamping down on your cock. könig knelt, in front of the both of you. his eyes glared up at the lieutenant, evident in being less than happy. he ran his gloved thumb against one of the veins on ghost’s cock, the man whining in response. as he reached the end of it, he curled the rest of his hand on the girth. hauling to the tip, only to slam back down. a slow, yet rough pace. ghost gasped, the sound shifting into a low moan. precum leaked from the slit, and the colonel used his free hand to lift his hood enough to lick away the fluid.

könig let out a moan himself before fully engulfing the tip into his warm mouth. you held down ghost’s hips before he could buck up into könig. the colonel pulled off quickly when he felt the man twitch, deciding that he is more interested in his thighs. “you have to be patient, ghost.” you whisper into his ear as he whines at the loss of the friction. “si...mmffh...simon.” he drawls out in between a stifled gasp. “call me simon.”

the colonel suddenly bit down on simon’s inner thigh, causing the other man to yelp. “what? can’t handle a bite, simon?” he teased, voice thick with his accent. he sucked on the hickey, soothing the stinging pain. however, it was short-lived as he bit on the other thigh. simon’s eyes were teary, pleasure and pain becoming overwhelming. your own cock throbbed, reminding him of how he was so full. he clenched around you, a smaller bite given to him. it was right beside his aching length. könig moved his mouth, licking up to the tip, engulfing it once again. his teeth lightly grazing ghost.

without warning, you thrusted up. causing könig to take simon’s cock to the hilt. he wailed, euphoria spiking up his spine and climax blinding him. “mmmngh! sorry! m’ sorry— gghh... ‘m cumming, love!” his release dripped out of the colonel’s mouth, down to his chin. he had been rutting against simon’s boot, triggering his own release. könig’s startled moan was muffled, sending vibrations to the currently sensitive ghost.

“i didn’t say that either of you could cum.” the tone of your voice was of faux disappointment.

masterlist

#— azrael.worksᵎᵎ #➷ ┊antonio’s works !#call of duty #simon riley x reader #könig call of duty #dom male reader #sub character #dom reader #male reader #cod mw x reader #cod smut #cod mwii #cod mw2 #mw2 2022 #mw2 fanfic #mwii #call of duty mw2

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months

Note

so I just read Doodles (and adored it!!) and now I can't stop thinking abt Miguel trying to sketch the reader, but having no artistic abilities and therefore failling miserably. a sequel perhaps??

((not sure if you're still taking requests tho. love ur work anyway!!)

hii!! AW that’s so kind, thank you! I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

doodles (part 2)

Miguel O’hara x f reader

wc || 881

warnings || none just fluff

part 1 -> doodles

masterlist + rules

Miguel has many talents, but drawing is not one of them. He has an indispensable need for perfectionism, so anything he was automatically good at frustrated him massively.

Since you've shared your knack for drawing with him, things have somewhat progressed between you both. Your relationship wasn't definite as of yet, but it was like the wedge between you two dissipated, like there was no longer a divide. You both spoke more freely with each other as if there was now a common understanding, like there were no secrets, well, still some secrets.

So now, when you'd hang out, you kept your doodle pad away, preferring to immerse yourself in conversation with Miguel rather than sketch your time away. He noticed how you were more present, more attentive while you were with him, and though he'd never admit it aloud, it made his heart feel full for you to want to spend time with him.

"You got your uh- notepad?" he asks, changing the subject of today's events at HQ.

"Always," you smile, head tilting to the side as if to understand him better. "Why'd you ask?"

"I want to try something," he sheepishly grins, his demeanour coltish as he avoids your gaze. "Can I borrow it?"

You playfully squint your eyes as you watch his expression soften. "I suppose,"

"And a pencil?" he adds, his tone sweet and juvenile as he extends a hand.

You weren't completely certain about what he had planned, but you had an idea.

"Okay, turn around a bit... no, towards me... now, put your arm up... yeah, on the table... no, your elbow. Mierda," (shit) he chuckles, shaking his head. "Put that there," he grins, adjusting you, moving you around in your chair. "Now, relax," his smile widens as he gazes at you across the table. "Hermosa," (beautiful) muttering under his breath.

His grin slowly fades as the lead touches the paper, looking stumped as he peeks at you over the notepad. He softly sighs as he begins to sketch you, glancing up at you every few seconds, sometimes looking at you more than necessary.

"How's it looking?" you sweetly ask, trying not to move too much.

"It's uh- it's," he pauses, masking the unsatisfied look on his face. "Good," he shrugs, his tone unconvincing as he continues to draw you.

He didn't have to say anything for you to know what he was thinking. His expressions were clear enough, even if he thought he hid them well.

"Can't wait to see it," you reassure, your eyes soften as they meet his.

He sighs heavily as he guides the pencil over the paper, flick-like strokes around the page as if he's sketching your hair. "It's terrible, cariño," (honey) he huffs, visibly frustrated as he drops the pad to the table. "Sorry,"

"No, no, don't be," you grin, standing from your seat, joining him on his side of the table. "Can I?" you ask, reaching for the pencil tightly gripped within his fist.

He nods, extending it towards you with a wry smile.

"Why you being so hard on yourself? It looks good," you partially lie.

It wasn't an awful drawing. It just wasn't great. You hated the idea of lying to Miguel, but surely this one time would be okay, a small white lie to avoid hurting his feelings. For someone who doesn't often do anything artistic and creative, it was actually a pretty solid effort. And although he wasn't one to care for art, you could tell this meant a lot to him, like he was trying to impress you or show another side to himself, a softer side even.

You could tell that he was frustrated in his attempts, so you reassured him, placing your warm palm over his forearm. "I think it looks great, Miguel," you smile. "Would it be okay if I help you?" you question, being careful with your wording to avoid the possibility of upsetting him.

"Go ahead," he nods, scooting his chair closer to you, resting the side of his head in his hand like he was getting comfortable to watch you. "I'm sure," he says, answering the question you had in mind, noticing the quizzical look in your eyes.

"Okay, so," you grin, looking at him. "I think it's the angle. It makes the proportions look funny, and it makes my nose look enormous," you playfully scold, earning you a soft laugh from Miguel. "But, you did the eyes well- wait a second, why are my lips so detailed?" you coyly smile, slowly turning to face him.

He doesn't answer. He shrugs, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, okay, I'll drop it," you say, hiding your smile behind your hair, shielding the side of your face with it.

"Don't hide it," he mumbles, extending a hand, reaching for your hair and brushing it behind your ear. He smiles, noticing the blush form over your cheeks. "Show me how to improve it,"

So you did. You sat close together, inches apart as you made minor adjustments to the sketch, adding shading and highlights as Miguel admired the process, watching the drawing come to life. His eyes dart between you and the finished sketch of you on the page, a sweet, sincere smile spreading across his lips. "Hermosa," (beautiful) he whispers. "I'm gonna frame it."

@sunshiines-stuff @queerponcho @selfryed

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel atsv

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ruckis--rookie · 3 months

Text

Since this has become a hot topic as of recent, in regards to the statement "support other monster collecting games that aren't pokemon"...

pLEASE!!please!!! PLAY YO-KAI WATCH!!! I am BEGGING YOU PLAY YOKAI WATCH!! ITS SO GOOD.

It's like if you took a monster collector, but instead of little monsters you have foreign ghosts with their own afterlives, unique backstories, and personalities! I loathe when people accuse it of being just a poke-clone because it's so much more than that!

Pros include many hours of laughs, playtime, variety in characters and content. Like seriously if ya'll thought things like Pokemon BW and their sequels had a lot of content worth going back to, the 3rd game in the installment should you choose to go the completionist route is 300+ hours. I'm *still* trying to complete it. Also if fever dream, random, cheesy type humor is your taste you'll like this series. It's one of my favorite comfort games that makes my autism go 😊 while I do enjoy the English dub I recommend the sub, not only is it easier to find but a lot of the humor is swept under the rug and a looot of episodes weren't dubbed because of difficulty translating more mature jokes. The anime's humor can be very bipolar. Which leads me to my next point!

Cons include: very bipolar sense of humor. This is mostly in reference to the anime. It gets more riske the more the show progresses, but its also victim to some hella childish humor. Especially early on. Its not a stranger to potty humor. If it gets to crude or tiring I just skip the episode lmao. a lot of it is lost media and it is SO hard to find the anime episodes as well as physical games, especially the English translations. Because this series flopped so hard initially in the Americas a lot of the English stuff has been lost, and those that are found are... spensive... I was lucky enough to have gotten a physical cart of Yokai Watch 3 before it shot up in price. It's easily my most expensive game of... the last I checked... 600 dollars..... oh also if you don't like pikaclones too bad there's duplicate Yokai out the rear. And the fandom rn is incredibly miniscule. If you're a completionest this series might be a nightmare for you because of how obscenely hard some of the things are to collect. I hope you're blessed by RNGesus

So don't wait! See if you like Yokai Watch today! I need more people to talk to about this silly little series that brings me so much joy! DONT LEAVE ME IN HERE MICHAEL-

#yokai watch #ykw #youkai watch #yo kai watch #pokemon #monster collector #video games #ruckis borks

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somnambulic-thing · 1 year

Text

art student!reader x life drawing model!Eddie Munson

E 18+, so nsfw Words: 7048 read on ao3

find the sequel here

Paint It Black Summery: You’re frustrated with your latest work and look for distraction by attending the open life drawing class on what looks like a very ordinary Thursday. Eddie, the new model, is everything but ordinary but definitely a distraction.

CW/tags: characters somewhere in their twenties, meet-wild, smut, fluff, some sort of voyeurism/public erection, gets a little rough, unprotected sex, piv penetration, oral for everybody, v fingering, biting, love marks, talky sex, aftercare, art school bullshit, messy sex, artsy sex (I guess), love at first sight (I guess)

A/N: @edsforehead made me do it. (thank you so much)

comments and reblogs are so appreciated

The air is cold, stinging your cheeks as you ride your bike through a clear and crisp winter morning. It does wonders for waking you up and clearing your mind; you had spent way too long in your studio last night, hovering over this painting that just wouldn’t go the way you wanted. Inside your mind, you hoisted it off the wall to place it right in the middle of the room, a bucket of thick black paint in one hand, the other one dipping in until the medium reached your wrist. You drop down to your knees and get to work, blacking the wretched thing out one large swoop of your arm after another, sending hours of work into oblivion.

Oh my, it was so tempting. Your fingertips tickle with the urge to turn your frustration into something wild and rough and… simple.

But your Professor had sworn to make your life very hard if he ever got wind of you destroying one of your works again, so you followed the advice he had given you: You had decided to take a break. Do something different, something simple, something rewarding and easy to clear your mind to recharge your drained batteries.

So it is Thursday and you crawled out of bed after four measly hours of sleep to go to the life drawing class. You are early as always to get one of the good spots. The small auditorium is still empty except for your teacher who is busy untangling the cords of the various space heaters that will keep the model warm for the next hours.

“Ah,” he says as he sees you, “haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Yeah, been busy wasting paint.” You smile and walk down the steps of the middle aisle and drop your bag on the best chair: first platform, second chair on the right from the aisle. It had the perfect distance and angle and the top of the backrest of first row to put your feet on so you could rest your paper on your thighs and wouldn’t have to struggle through two hours and a half hours of numb feet.

“Good decision to waste some graphite instead today,” your teacher says and grins. “I’m excited to see your progress.”

You hum, unpacking your supplies. “Who’s the model today? Someone familiar?”

“No, actually, I finally could recruit someone new. He should already be here though. Maybe he has difficulties finding us.” The building was old and could be confusing if you never set foot in it before.

“He,” you say, sharpening your pencil. “Guess it’s my lucky day.”

Male models were rare - maybe two out of ten sessions - and you start to get excited about coming in today.

Your teacher climbs up the stairs past you, “I’ll go and see if he’s wandering around somewhere.”

—

The room fills with students; you say your How are you?’s and What are you working on?’s and when the clock shows 9:37, you brace yourself for the session getting cancelled. Just then, the door opens and your teacher hurries down the stairs.

“Good morning everybody. Sorry for the delay, our model got lost in our hallways. Let’s hear: anybody working on something particular and has some requests for poses?”

You crane your neck up to the back of the room towards the overflowing coat rack while your teacher keeps going through the usual procedure.

The model’s back is turned and you see a long black coat being shrugged off of lean shoulders and underneath: more black. Black lines of ink meandering out of the sleeves of a black shirt; a harsh contrast against pale skin. Ringed hands come up to the back of his head to put the long dark wavy hair into a bun.

No! you plead internally, surprised by that strong reaction.

He chooses the far left aisle down, almost disappearing behind the rows of students but your eyes follow him with a burning curiosity as if you wouldn’t get the chance to look at him for hours in a moment. You shake your head and open your sketchbook to do just anything but stare. There was a difference between observing and staring and the latter wasn’t fucking appropriate inside this room.

“Everybody,” your teacher announces, “this is Eddie. Eddie has never done this before so be patient and just let him know if he’s moving too much.”

You look up and grind your teeth. This Eddie is fucking gorgeous.

“Uhm, hi!” he smiles into the room then looks back at your teacher. “So, uh, I just get naked or what?”

Everybody laughs, but you don’t. You’re taking a long slow breath.

“That’s the general idea,” your teacher grins. “You can put your things on that table in the corner and then just come back to this spot.”

But Eddie does not move to the mentioned corner, he simply pulls off his shirt and throws it the distance to the table. More tattoos come to light; all black, no color. He then kicks off his shoes and you watch his fingers as they open his belt and his fly, how they lodge into the hem of his black, frayed jeans and pull them down in one swoop. There are giggles as he throws the bundle, aiming at the table like he’s at the bowling alley, completely naked.

And then you realize, Eddie didn’t wear any underwear.

“The rings too, please.”

“Oh, sure.” He picks them off his fingers; one two three from one hand and one more from the other. Eddie looks at them on his palm for a moment and grins. “Nah, not gonna throw those.”

The class giggles again as Eddie takes two three long strides to the table to put his rings down carefully and prances back, taking his spot in the middle of the small platform surrounded by space heaters.

There is a soft crack coming from your lap and you look down to see that you had pushed your pencil to the paper so hard that you’d broken the tip.

—

It’s as always: a series of short poses to warm up. One minute, then three and up from there.

Except it is not like always. You're flustered, you’re hot and you spend way too long staring, not finishing any of the one-minute poses.

This has never happened to you before and you had been presented with a lot of good-looking people over the years but this guy was something else.

Three-minute poses and Eddie is slouched back in a chair, long legs spread, left arm resting on top of his head, the right one on his thigh. This was sinful. You just corrected the angle of his left thigh for the third time when you look up and find him looking right back at you. No lost glance into the distance over your shoulder, no: your eyes meet. And those eyes are big and dark and curious and he holds the gaze for several seconds before the timer beeps and announces the change of poses.

He’s not only beautiful and scorching hot but also incredibly adorable. He’s giddy between poses, shaking his arms and legs - and with that his cute little ass - bouncing on his toes and you start to think that holding still normally isn’t his forte. When he lies on his belly, soft gaze on the floor, he tries to stifle a yawn once, twice and only lets it out when he’s allowed to move again. You like his dedication.

Five-minute poses and you finally get into the flow; things start to make sense on the paper until you find him looking at you again. And not only that: he mouthes a small 'Hi'. You bite your lip and look down, feeling the looks of some of the students on you.

He’s cross-legged, leaning back, hands braced on the ground behind him. The angle is weird and it doesn’t help that the way his lean, inked chest moves every time he takes a breath makes you want to bite down on those sharp collarbones. You hold your sketchpad in your outstretched arms doing those quick back-and-forth glances to find out where to correct the mess when his eyes move back to you. Every time you meet his gaze makes your spine tingle more and more and you have to bite down on your lip again to not let a fucking noise slip from your mouth.

Ten-minute poses and your teacher has made it to you to give you some feedback. Nothing you hadn’t expected: you go about it too complicated, want to do too much in too little time, too much detail. Eddie is stretched out on his back and smirks towards the ceiling.

On the next round of feedback, he tells you to really look at Eddie’s hips. You get the angle wrong, it throws off the stance, and you know why all your stupid drawings look a little wonky: you try to avoid looking at his cock for too long. You never thought about a penis as a cock before in this class and it drives you up the walls seeing it twitch slightly while your teacher keeps explaining things you already know and you’re forced to stare at Eddie's crotch, knowing he's side-eying you and your flustered expression the whole. Damn. Time.

Eddie gets a brief pause to stretch and have some water and you want revenge. While his back is turned to you - shoulder blades rippling deliciously under his skin - you open the top two buttons of your blouse, sliding the collar off your shoulder.

One final five-minute pose before the session ends with a twenty-fiver and Eddie is crouched down with his knees pulled under his chin. He shuffles a little before he really settles, tilting his head slightly in a way that forces him to look in your direction unless he wants to lower his eyes to the floor for five minutes.

When he finally looks up, you’re waiting for him, head titled yourself exposing the side of your neck down to your shoulder where your bra strap is barely holding onto your skin.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you smile, tongue poking out just a little to lick your bottom lip before you focus on the paper in your lap to roughly map out the pose. You don’t linger on him while you draw, quick glances only, but you can feel his gaze heavy on you.

This sketch is turning out to be the best so far. You lean back a little, biting down on the back of your pencil and start rolling your shoulders. One gets stiff sitting like that for so long, so people stretch all the time and nobody will notice that you’re giving Eddie a little show. You tilt your head to the right and run a hand over the muscles in your neck, massaging the achy spot right beyond your skull for a moment. When you give in to look down at him, you do it from under your lashes, taking the pencil stuck in your mouth between two fingers and let your tongue play with it ever so slightly.

Eddie takes a deep breath; you can see it in the way his shoulders rise and his knees are pressed forward. You grin and he pulls up his brows and you can’t tell if he begs you to stop or go on.

Twenty-five-minute pose and the crowd demands him to stand.

“Twenty-five minutes of standing is ok?” your teacher asks Eddie, who hasn’t jumped up like a spring toy after the timer rang.

“Uhm, yeah,” he says, legs still drawn to his torso. “Sure thing, uh-hn.”

It takes him another beat to push himself up and come to a stand. Your eyes wander from the top of his cheeks, tinted in a pretty pink, down to those hips to find him not exactly half hard, but on a good way to it. You feel your eyes roll up.

Shit.

Your teacher instructs him how to stand, feet wider apart - a little more, perfect - arms crossed over his chest which too is now slightly pink. His biceps’ flex a few times as he waits for more instructions.

“Can you turn a little, to the left?” a guy in the top row asks and Eddie does.

“Like this?”

Like this you get him in a three-quarter-view and your heart is racing; will he look at you again or did you push it too far?

“Anything else?” your teacher asks and you want to bite down on your tongue but instead it’s moving and forming words.

“Can we have the hair down for this last one?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, catching you in the middle of your request. He pinches his eyes shut at the approval of your fellow students. Below the waist, he’s twitching again.

Loosening his hair tie, Eddie musses around in his dark waves with practised fingers until he seems satisfied with what he sees in the mirror across the room. You suppress a moan, breaking the tip of your pencil again. He’s not looking at you, this time choosing to turn down his eyes while his face points in your general direction again. You curse at yourself internally; you should have just gone to him after the session and slipped him your number or asked him if he was busy after this while the both of you were still flooded with whatever this was and—

Shit!

Whatever Eddie is thinking while not looking at you did not help with what was going on in his loins. That pretty cock was getting bigger: half-hard-hello! And judging by his current state, he was big. You involuntarily grind your hips on your chair and drop your pencil in the process. A groan escapes you, sounding much too pleasant for a case of dropped art supplies and you bend down to get it back. When you come up, brown eyes are waiting for you. There is a smile playing around them while his pretty pink lips are slightly pressed together. Thank god he doesn’t look mad or annoyed, only the blush giving away that something was going on.

You can’t help it, you’re biting your lip, eyes wandering between his face and his cock and his brows draw slightly together before he averts his eyes again, breathing a few times: deep and slow.

Deep and slow.

Holy shit you are throbbing and wet and all you can do is fake another stretch and while shuffling around, press your thighs together for a little bit of friction. You tilt your hips down slightly and the sensation is so good and welcome that your eyes pinch close and your back arches. The movement is jerkily and you stretch your arms over your head to conceal it, slowly opening your eyes again.

Eddie is watching. Eddie is hard.

You grab your pencil and start drawing the spectacle in front of you; concentration isn’t the right word for the sharp focus that settles over you. It’s fucking lust.

It’s not the first hard-on you’ve seen in this class, not by any means. It happens now and then and usually a slight blush from the model was the only reaction. But this wasn’t any hard dick: you did this. You did this to this gorgeous man and you wanted to capture this with your own hands. In case he just bolted right after the session, you would have something to remember this.

You’re leaning in, literally, sketch pad balancing on your knees and bent over your thighs you almost forget the additional loosened buttons on your blouse until you catch those eyes directed at your chest. Seems like Eddie figured the damage was done anyway so why hold back now?

And fucking hell was that precum glistening at the tip?

This is when the timer starts announcing the end of class.

Eddie shoots you one final look, a sharp grin, a slight shake of the head, tips of his hair tickling his shoulders and hops off his little platform to get dressed.

“Holy shit,” says the guy next to you, leaning over. “Have you seen that dick?”

You huff a laugh that throbs in your pussy. “Hard to overlook.”

“Exactly,” he groans and picks up his things.

—

You look at drawings of Eddie of all kinds. They are all beautiful, even the bad ones. You rub your forehead catching that corny thought and look across the room where Eddie is talking to two people, gesturing to the drawings on the floor, laughing. The two of you are slowly moving towards each other. The journey consists of looking, talking: This is a good one! and That one is crap, right? and glancing to your right. You reach the row with your own stuff, groaning internally at how very off everything looks, everything but two.

Suddenly, a chest presses to your back and an arm sneaks past you to point at a drawing.

“That’s amazing.”

The explosion in your insides barely travels to your voice and you’re impressed with yourself. He even smells amazing. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s one of yours then?”

You turn to face him. The smile on his face is obscene.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Eddie.”

The smile shrinks a little and his nostrils flare with the air he pulls in. His voice is low and deep when he speaks. “You… uh, made that a very hard job to do.”

“I’m almost sorry,” you croon. His face is way too close; one uptilt of your head and you could bite his plush bottom lip.

“Don’t be,” he licks the spot you just imagined nibbling on. “I didn’t start it for nothing.”

You both jump when someone hijacks your moment. “Those detailed studies are really nice.”

“Yeah, right?” Eddie says with genuine enthusiasm. “Almost the only ones who got some of my tattoos…”

“Uhg, tattoos are hard in that short time, man and you know, not really anatomy.”

The exchange goes back and forth a little longer until Eddie loops his arm under yours and not so causally pulls you in the direction you’d come from under the disguise of looking at sketches.

“So, uh, what are you doing, like, right after this?”

“You, I hope.”

“Shit…” he shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “You’re killing me already… where do you want to go?”

You think about this for a moment, greedy and soaking through your panties you’re in no mood to wait much longer to have him naked again.

“I have a studio two corridors down…”

His brows shoot up. “You ahm…” he blurts out, then lowers his voice, “want to do me here at school?”

“Yes, Eddie… like the pretty little muse you are.”

—

His hand is warm in yours as you pull him along behind you through the hallway past your fellow students who throw curious glances over their shoulders.

Eddie catches up to your side and leans close to your ear, “Are you already wet for me? The way you moved on that chair…”

“Drenched,” you breathe against his neck and almost stumble over your own feet. Eddie sneaks his arm around you, keeping you steady.

“Easy, sweetheart. Let me be the one to bruise you, ok? I’ll do it in aaall the nice places.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open.

“Promise,” he adds, tapping the tip of your nose, a devilish smile spreading on his face.

You drag him on and he laughs behind you until he catches up again. There is a brief moment where you leave him in the middle of the empty foyer to get your key from the doorman, interrupting his lunch break, praying to whoever deity will listen to your horny call that none of your studio mates is in there already. You almost moan when the guy hands the key to you and you bump into Eddie’s chest face first when you turn around in a hurry.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he rasps, takes your face in his large hands and bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Your fists close around the lapel of his coat as he licks along your teeth until your tongue finds him. The world around you feels vague and unimportant until the doorman behind you knocks against the glass of his booth.

“I don’t need to see this, folks.”

This time Eddie takes your hand and walks on. “Show me the way, babe, or I’ll have to hoist you up one of those windowsills… you people are doing performance art here, right?”

Eddie is mumbling filthy things at you the whole way down the empty corridor where your shared studio is the last room on the left. You try to fumble the key into the lock and drop it because Eddie is already busy bruising your neck. Pressed flat to your back he brushed your hair to the side and started sucking at the spot just below your ear, his hands sneaking around you, cupping your tits through your blouse. As you bend down to pick up the key, Eddie grabs your hips and rolls his own against you, almost pushing you into the door. You both laugh and he pulls you up by your waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles as you finally unlock the door. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You let him inside and lock the door behind you.

“What’s your workspace?” he asks, already poking his nose into things. “No! Don’t tell me… it’s�� this one.”

“How did you know?” you ask surprised, taking off your coat and fully unbuttoning your blouse while he looks at your work lined up on the wall, hand on his chin like a proper little art critic.

“Well, I saw your drawings and this stuff here… it has the same… Duktus?”

“Christ,” you moan and he looks at you. “That was so sexy.”

“Hey, you’re starting without me?”

Eddie rushes to you, hands instantly sliding inside your open blouse against your bare skin. His hands are rough, calloused in some places and the slight scratch is making you shiver in his arms. He pulls the fabric off of you and drops it to the ground. His coat falls next, then his shirt. Eddie hisses as you sink your teeth into his collarbone as soon as you have access to them.

“Too much?”

His eyes are lidded and so very dark as he shakes his head. “Just start pulling my hair too and you’ll never get rid of me again…”

“That a threat or another promise?” you purr as you open his belt and fly over the impressive bulge in his pants.

“Which one turns you on more?” You hook your fingers into his waistband and drop to your knees, pulling his pants down with you, making his breath hitch. “Oh, s-shit…”

This is the close-up you've been yearning for all morning. Fully hard and flushed a deep pink already; you wonder if it will feel as heavy on your tongue as it looks. You run a finger along the underside and it twitches again, bobbing up and down in front of your face. You lean in, stick out your tongue and give the swollen tip a lick that makes Eddie whimper above you.

Again you meet his eyes and the expression in them is so unexpectedly soft that you almost whimper too. Your cunt is clenching around horrible nothingness as you lick him again, flat tongue sliding along the underside, feeling a vein, tasting salt, watching those big brown eyes roll up and close as a moan escapes him.

“You’re gorgeous, holy shit.” You firmly grip his cock around the base and stroke him a few times, your mouth watering, before you close your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling in lazy circles around it. Eddie’s breath is uneven and laced with soft moans from his glistening parted lips while you softly play around with his cock. Every twitch of his face is a delight, the way his abdomen tenses when you press small kisses to the length of his shaft makes you swoon with adoration. You reach up one hand to trace up the lines of a tattoo on his ribcage and he catches it, pressing it flat against his chest. Eddie’s heartbeat pounds against your palm and you moan around his cock.

“Holy… fuck… I wanna watch you so bad but I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, big boy,” you say in a low voice. “Look at me.”

It takes him a few more seconds until he opens his eyes and looks down at you; the moment you lock eyes you take him down as far as you can. A string of loud but mostly intangible curses echoes through the large room as you suck him down again and again in long leisurely motions. Your lips stretched around his girth curl up into a smile when his hands look for something to hold onto in your hair and you place your index finger at the corner of your mouth without stopping your onslaught to signal him to keep the volume down.

“Sorry, ah fuck fuck FUCK… I’ll try… shit I’m balls deep in your mouth and still don’t know your name—”

You don’t want to stop, not even for the moment to tell him your name. There’s a big portfolio folder leaning against the wall and you point in the general direction before running your fingers through the dark curls around his base and up the trail to his stomach while he’s trying to figure out what you’re showing him, failing at his attempt to stay quiet.

Then he says it: your name, no, he moans it. And he doesn’t fucking stop.

Suddenly your abdomen is on fire and you have to pull back to catch your breath. But you can’t, not really, because Eddie has kicked off his pants the rest of the way, dropped to the floor and pushed you to your back to peel you out of your clothes.

The floor is cold under your ass and back and you thump your head a little as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to him.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “keep manhandling me.”

Eddie grins like the devil himself and goes to work. He’s everywhere: kissing, lapping biting at your mouth, your jaw your neck your tits, his fingers pushed into your thighs and you know it will bruise. He’s keeping his promise, leaving wet tingling marks all over you, a purple trail of small galaxies. His fingers find your cunt, finally, and Eddie eats the moan out of your mouth.

“Shh,” he says with a cocky laugh, his forehead pressed to yours, two fingers circling your clit in dragging motions. “You’re loud, beautiful. You don’t want us to get caught before I had a chance to fuck you.”

“N-no… ahhh.” Two thick fingers slide into you and your muscles grip down hard at the sudden intrusion.

“Hi,” he grins down at you as if he wasn’t just pounding your g-spot out of nowhere and making you see stars.

You hold on to his face, grappling for purchase and finally wind your fingers into this wild tickling hair and pull.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I— I’m so close.”

“Keep holding on,” he groans and moves down your body, fingers stilling for a moment.

You keep your hands in his hair, pulling in frustration from the ebbing pleasure.

“Of course, you have the prettiest fucking pussy, you—“ he doesn’t finish his thought, diving in with his tongue to lap at your clit like he’d been starving for you his whole life.

You bite the back of your hand to keep from yelling out at the sight alone. His eyes meet yours, of course they do and he sucks one of your lips into his mouth.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie… what’s your last name?”

“Munson,” he mumbles against your core and keeps on feasting.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie Munson… ahhh don’t stop please.”

And he doesn’t. He gives you his fingers and his mouth, his eyes fixed on you— well, most of the time, he keeps looking to a spot behind you but you have no time to inquire as your legs start to tremble and everything inside you starts to tense and pulse and you’re coming apart under his mouth before you’ve really seen it coming.

Yeah, that guy was something else.

When you’ve come down he gently pulls his fingers from you and litters your thighs and belly with kisses. His fingers are sticky against your skin but a slight roughness remains.

Your head lolls against the floor while you’re still blissed out and Eddie still puts those feathery kisses to your skin.

“You… you’re a musician…” you drawl out.

He looks up. “Yeah! How do you know?”

You take his hand from your chest and lick your wetness from his fingers before you turn his palm to him, sliding a fingertip over the calloused skin.

“You like that?” he grins.

You let go of his hand and nod. “Something with strings?”

“Guitar. And vocals.”

“Fuck you, you’re way too hot as it is…” you squeeze him with your thighs and his eyes go to that spot behind you again before he kisses your chest.

“What do you keep looking at?” you wiggle and crane your neck. It’s that painting. The one that has been haunting you for weeks.

“Sorry,” he scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know, draws me in somehow… it’s… weird… sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be…” you say and pull him up to you, kissing him. “You’re right.”

“Yeah?” he glances over again. “Well, fuck… yeah… m’ not gonna lie to you it’s kinda terrifying.” You both laugh. The warmth in your chest only expands more.

“Want to slather me in paint and fuck me against it?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he glances between your face and the canvas. “Yes? Fuck yes!”

He pulls you up and into a hungry kiss, his thick cock hard against your belly.

“Is that stuff safe to use?” he points his chin to some paint tubes on the trolley in the corner.

“No, oh god, no. But…” you leave him to look for a large bottle of black paint letting out a triumphant ha when you find it. You turn around beaming. “This here is… and will wash out of hair with no problem.”

“Come here…” he curls his finger to beckon you to him. “And hand that over.”

“Is that turning you on?” you ask as you join him.

“You have no idea.” Eddie takes the paint from you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest. “You’re so pretty already with all my marks on you.” He walks you over to the canvas that way, his lips pressed close to your ear.

You turn in his arm and reach for his cock, stroking him softly. “How do you want me?”

“Fuck if I know… gimme a second and don’t stop that.” He looks at the canvas, really thinking about this. You suddenly want to pull his hair again. “Hands above your head, babe,” he says, opening the bottle of paint and squirts a generous amount into his hand. “Keep them clean. You have to put me inside you.”

You lean against the canvas; it’s large, so large that your outstretched arms above your head just graze the wooden frame inside.

Eddie’s hands are dripping black paint as he grabs your hips, bends down and sucks your nipple into his mouth before he kisses up to the crook of your shoulder to suck on you once more. “One last one before I make a mess out of you.” The contrast between the warmth of his lips and the cool paint as he slides his hands up your sides to your ribs makes you squirm and whimper. Eddie steps back to look at his work.

“Fuck, I’m an artist.”

He grabs the bottle from the floor and gets more paint, letting it drip right to your tits before smudging with splayed fingers. You watch him, mesmerized. When he is satisfied, he spins you around and pats your thigh as a sign to widen your stance. You feel him shuffle behind you as he presses himself against you and your chest against the canvas.

“Ready?”

You reach down, fumbling in the air for a moment before you find him. “You ready?”

“Ye—ahhhh, you little minx,” he groans as you line him up and push back on him half the way. He holds you steady and slides in the rest of the way breathing out a long low fuuuuck. Then he stills. “Are you holding your breath? You ok?”

You are more than ok and you let the air out, your forehead dropping against the canvas. “It was that or letting everybody in the building know I’m getting stretched real fucking good right now…”

He angles your hips back and pushes closer. “Yeah, you are… shit, you’re unreal.”

“And you’re big. Gimme a moment.”

“All the time you want, I’m cosy here.”

While you get used to the stretch, Eddie caresses your back, rubbing small circles up the sides of your spine.

“I have a show next Tuesday,” he says kissing your shoulder. “Would love to see you in the first row.”

“Wouldn’t miss it… I assume it’s something hard?” you wiggle your ass, making you both sigh.

“You like it hard?” he laughs. “Music, I mean.”

“I do.”

“’Course you do. Can I fuck you now? Please?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Before the paint dries.”

He starts slow, pulling out almost all the way and sliding back in till he bottoms out. Your front slides against the canvas blackening out parts of it in big splotches.

“How’s this?” He’s so careful it makes your throat feel tight.

“You feel in-incredible.” You push back, meeting his thrusts as he picks up the pace.

“You’re incredible, sweetheart.”

Then you’re just getting lost in each other. His movements get rougher, more confident as he thrusts into you. You feel him deep inside you lighting little fires everywhere. A hand presses to the canvas next to your head, an arm loops around your waist and you yelp as he sharply slams into you. You beg him to do it again but he’s already on it, relentlessly fucking you into the canvas. Most of the paint is dry now, it’s prickling on your skin. Eddie moans your name into your ear, squeezing your tits and you squeeze your muscles around his cock.

“Shhh, babe…” you chuckle after he cries out.

“Fuck you,” he laughs hoarsely into your hair.

You’re so close again and you slip your hand between your legs but Eddie stops and pulls your arm to your back. “No nono, shit, not-not like that…”

“Eddie…”

“Stay like that,” he says and pulls out of you, leaving you empty and confused. There is some shuffling and then he is back behind you. “Going to be cold.”

“What— uhn!”

Paint trickles onto your arched back, sliding down your spine and making you shiver. Eddie gives your ass a little smack and turns you around, crowding you against the canvas, and hoists you up by your thighs.

“Oh my god,” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck while he balances you out.

“Can’t do that all day but you’re close ‘n I wanna see that face when you come.” He leans you back to create some space between you. “Help me out, put me back inside you…”

You do as you’re told and you clench your thighs hard around his hips as he starts up almost at the same pace he stopped. He kisses you, so sloppy so wet you feel a string of spit between your mouths when he pulls back again to hook his arms under your knees and spreads you open so wide that you’re crying out his name.

“I got you,” he assures you, pounding into you at a new angle, so deep it makes you dizzy. “I got you, you can juuust fall apart…”

The noises you two are making where you’re joined are obscene.

“Holy shit,” you moan, “li-listen… those sounds.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder, sweat dripping from his forehead onto you. “Like fucking music…”

You laugh. “Fucking music indeed.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he presses out through a laugh and really leans into you. You grab a thick strand of hair and pull as your insides begin to tense.

“Oh… oh shit, don’t stop.”

The world tilts as he leans you back again. “Wouldn’t dare… touch yourself for me, I need to feel you come around me.”

“Come inside me, yeah?” you rasp as you circle your swollen throbbing clit.

His eyes bore into yours, the strain and pleasure all over his face. He’s a mess as much as you are. “Come on, darling… come for me… I want you to run through my fingers.”

And you swear you do: your head thumps against the wood frame as your muscles try to create a black hole or whatever happens under so much pressure, but who cares when this stupidly perfect man fucks you through the hardest orgasm anyone ever had while looking at you like he was fulfilling his fucking destiny. You can’t hear him over the blood rushing through your ears, but he looks so pretty with his nose scrunched up, a streak of black paint running over the bridge and his eyes shut tight. A few more thrusts and he collapses against your chest with stuttering hips, pinning you so hard against the wall that it drives the air out of you.

There is only breathing, hot air from his lungs against your tickling skin. You cup the back of his head and stroke his hair; he nuzzles deeper into your skin and makes a noise that sounds like fucking home.

“I need to put you down now… sorry.”

He puts you down but doesn’t let go. Kisses cover your face until you cup his cheeks and claim his mouth while he’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

Then you giggle together, Eddie squeezing your ass with both hands, smiling at you so silly and soft. You’re thirsty, you let him have the bottle first and he gulps the water down, spilling down his chest, creating little rivers of paint that let the ink show through. You want to study those lines up close without twenty people around you, without the blinding fire of lust, but calm, taking your time asking questions.

“What’s going on up there?” he asks, tapping a finger against your forehead.

“I wanna study you some more,” you say, taking the bottle and down what’s left.

He doesn’t ask you what you mean, only tilts his head and smiles. Then he sits down in that worn-out armchair your mate had dragged in a few months ago, still naked, it isn’t time to cover up yet and you find a clean enough rag, climb into his lap and clean the paint off his face as gently as you can.

“Stop,” he grabs your hips, “do you have a camera or something?”

You do and the timer takes too long for you two not to start fooling around before the soft click of the shutter sounds. One more and one more and the film has only two more left and he pulls you in to kiss you just before the camera rewinds.

“You want to join me when I make the prints?”

“You, red light and chemicals?” he grins. “It’s a date.”

The painting is dry already; Guache dries rather fast, you explain to him. It’s itchy, he adds and scratches his chest, small flakes of black falling down to the floor. You sit in front of both your work, your head against his shoulder and your fingers fumbling with a strand of his hair that is stiff with paint.

“You know,” he says, “it would have made a damn good record cover before…”

“You can have a picture… I document every night before I go home.”

“Really? I mean, the picture?”

You brush sweaty hair off his forehead, “I’m sure it’s in good hands with you.”

He almost shoves you over when he kisses you, the giddy streak you saw earlier during class showing when he chuckles and licks your cheek like a puppy.

“It looks really good now though, don’t you think?”

“You’re just horny,” you laugh.

“What? You don’t like our work?” he pouts and this shouldn’t pull at your heart that much.

“I do,” you kiss the pout, “I was just teasing.”

“I mean it,” he looks at the canvas, “It’s a bit crooked and dented now, but that just adds to the charm.”

“It has nothing on you though when it comes to charm.” You lean in with a sultry smile and his palm cups your breast and then—

A knock on the door. “Come on, you still fucking in there? I need to work.”

You look at each other with large eyes and break out laughing, scrambling for your clothes. Eddie hisses sharply when you slap his ass just before he pulls up his jeans and you forgo the bra because one strap did not survive Eddie’s enthusiasm. There is paint sticking out of his collar that you couldn’t clean before your photo shoot and you remember to put the film in your pocket while he kisses your temple because he seems to can’t help himself but stay close to you.

“Ready?” you ask and he grabs your hand and nods, following you out.

“Finally,” your mate says, but smiles when she sees you. “Aren’t you that new model?”

“Muse,” he grins without further explanation.

You hand her the key, mouth a small sorry and admit it when she calls you out on your lie.

His hand is warm in yours, his thumb playing with your knuckles as you walk back through the hallway.

“So,” he says, “we gonna shower at your or my place?”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #Eddie Munson smut #somnambulic-thing #my fic

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