#slender ta | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheonstapes · 7 months

Text

miguel o'hara stars in... 'DOMESTIC BLISS' (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

a/n~ i physically cannot write a fic about my favs w/o getting horny mid way through sorry ;( i just want miguel to wrap me up and brush my hair and hold me tight---- NNNNNNNNNNH (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

summary; miguel really likes your thighs…and how his cock looks between them.

wc; 700+

pairings; miguel o'hara x fem!reader

cw; SMUT!!, fluff, miguel and reader being cutesy, consensual somnophilia, thigh-fuckin, lil bit of blood, cummin inside, basically a breeding kink cause i said so, softdom! miguel, miguel being pussy whipped, sleepy sex, cumplay?, n e ways...not proofread - is one in the mornin

miguel loved nights like this. both of you wrapped up in warm, fluffy robes, and matching slippers - just enjoying each other’s company.

“babe, grab my headband for me please?”

walking over to where you were in the bathroom, he looks at your beautiful face through the mirror, sliding the cute headband on your head. “here, my love.” he trails a hand down your arm, wrapping it around your waist and he pulls you closer into him, your body pressed tightly against his rock solid chest. he doesn’t loosen his grip on you as you lean forward to wash your face, instead gripping your hips to hold you steady.

he still doesn’t let go of you when you walk over to your shared bed, tucking you under the covers and bringing you as close as he could to him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, lips pressing soft kisses against your warm skin. he really was the luckiest man in the world, blessed with this angel in front of him. his hands gently traced the curves of your body, the touch meant to be soothing but it was anything but for the throbbing he felt under the sheets.

he could hear you snoring quietly, the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the slenderness of your collarbones that were faintly littered with love bites. everything about you was just so perfect. especially those thighs of yours. those sexy, juicy, thighs - pressing against his. palming at your ass, he pulls you closer, if that was even possible - fingers moving to dip into your panti- oh, fuck, you weren’t wearing any.

this new revelation led to him fucking his thick cock through the tightness of your thighs, nudging your little clit with every thrust. he whimpers, actually whimpers, at the feeling, a sound he’d take to the grave - if you were awake right now, you would not let him live that down. but that didn’t matter right now, not when he was so close to painting those pretty thighs with his cum. or actually, why waste it? maybe he should just cum inside of you. it would save cleaning up in the morning, plus - you smelt so delicious after your shower, it’d be a shame to wash away that scent and his cum.

he angles his hips upwards, one hand on yours waist and the other keeping your head up as you sleep - the leaky tip of his cock pressing against your tight pussy. he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep, especially since you’re so cute when you sleep, so he only pushes the tip in - a faint pop! echoing through the room as he slips inside of you. “fuck, baby, s-such a tight pussy - isn’t she? looks like ‘m gonna have to stretch her out some more, hm?” soft whispers fall upon deaf ears, chuckling silently to himself as the sounds of your snoring get louder.

the constant suctioning on his tip was driving him mad, brows furrowed tightly as he threw his head back against the plush pillows. biting his lips so hard he draws blood, the ruby liquid running down his neck as he stares down at his cock disappearing between your thighs - thighs that we’re starting to…move? you seemed to be regaining some sort of consciousness, small breathy moans left your plump lips, eyes blinking open as you turned to look at him.

he was so caught up in your pussy, he didn’t even register your hand coming to push him deeper into your quivering cunt. your soft hand wrapping around him set him off, his hot, sticky, cum shooting straight against your womb as you take him all the way to the base. the other hand rests on his lower stomach running along the trail of hair that you love oh, so much - fucking yourself on his cock whilst he shoots white ropes along your walls.

“p-princess- mmph, shit- didn’t…i didn’t mean to wake you.” he really means that, he truly didn’t want to ruin your beauty sleep - but he couldn’t help but rub tight, slow, circles on your sticky clit, speaking lowly into your ear. “go back to sleep, beautiful, papí will take care of you, ‘kay?”

i mean shit, back to sleep we go!

-ONE CHANCE, JST ONE CHANCE MIGUEL

#miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #astv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #cheonstapes #cheonstapes films!🪷

4K notes · View notes

spookymulderjr · 2 years

Text

Remembering I've been with some of my f/os for over to almost 10 years

#queen angel signing off #dead///pool and slender///man are the ones and technically di///b too but not really #shit and ta///te lang///don and Cord///elia Goo///de

0 notes

sweet-as-an-angel · 9 months

Text

Professor Miguel O’Hara x Reader Headcanons

Warnings: University Professor Miguel, Implications of Smut, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Teacher’s Pet Reader, Academic Manipulation, Coercion, Abuse of Power, Miguel Abusing his Spider Abilities for Nefarious Purposes, Slight Yandere Miguel, Implied Obsession, Minor Spoilers for Miguel’s Backstory, Extra Yandere Headcanons, Forced Kissing, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel knows it’s wrong to want you in the way he does. You’re his best and brightest student, after all — his magnum opus: his academic pride and joy.

Problem is, that appreciation for your work ethic and your eagerness to take heavy loads of work (and eventually heavy loads of other things) charmed him. Sure, he could label you asa kiss-ass, a teacher’s pet, a sycophant, but ever since the first day he met you, he can’t help but feel your concern for him is genuine.

You always ask him how he’s doing. Every class, without fail, you stop off at his desk on your way to your seat and ask: “How are you doing today, Mr. O’Hara?” Followed by questioning some inane, specific detail he told you off-handedly a day or week prior.

You always remembered the little details. Something even Miguel finds trouble with doing; what, with his extracurricular activities as Nueva York’s one and only Spiderman.

The fact that you’re kind to him, a luxury Miguel had long since lost along with his family, strikes a chord with him.

He’s not sure when his platonic appreciation of such a hard-working student turned to something more — a rogue daydream into the lewd — but once he started, he couldn’t get enough.

Something about your unspoken submission to him – your, dare he say, desire to perform just for him, led his mind and his morals astray, left much room for interpretation and experimentation.

Choosing to believe you liked him — like-liked him — made a brand of pride bubble in his chest that he couldn’t abandon, couldn’t find a potent enough alternative to.

He starts shamelessly, yet restrainedly, flirting with you. In his own way, of course.

“I loved your paper on the configuration of water molecules and their behaviour when observed; very enlightening stuff.”

The way your face would light up, your eyes crinkling while a small, almost relieved laugh escaped you, made his chest flutter.

He thought it was pride. How little he knows for a science professor.

Eventually, this escalated into him asking you to do things for him he “Wouldn’t ordinarily ask a student to do.”

He smiles at you, eyes deceptively kind behind his slender glasses, as he watches you so intently listen, hear, for his commands.

He wonders what other things you’d do — how far you’d really go, stretch yourself (as he hopes you’d let him) — for a good grade and a positive impression.

He has a secret weapon that he knows will work on you, regardless of how momentous the task.

“I’m trusting you because you’re my favourite student.”

There it is. The activation phrase. Your heart rate quickens, your pupils blow wide and he can feel, hear, the blood rush to your cheeks as his confession settles in.

He can expect whatever it is he’s asked you to do to be complete before the time he’s set for you to do it. And all because of your eagerness to prove that you’re worthy of such a title as ‘favourite’. His favourite.

Truly, though, you are his favourite.

He feels his heart prick and his eyes search for you whenever the door to the lecture hall opens.

Only once were you unable to come to class, rendered bed-ridden by the flu, and Miguel’s heart sank.

He thought at first it was because he didn’t have your adoring eyes following him, trailing his every movement, stroking off his ego with how furiously you’d type on your laptop, take everything he said and burn it into your memory with laser-life efficiency.

But, as the lecture drew to a close, Miguel felt…concerned about you. Your well-being.

A dangerous emotion.

He cared about you. More than just an academic plaything, a task donkey; he wanted to visit you, to care for you. In ways he knew only he was capable of.

During his surveillance of the city that night, he paid you a visit as Spiderman.

Nothing so overt as to make himself known to you; rather a sideline visit as he watched you through your bedroom window.

Truly, your physical state reflected how monumental your illness was; you lay in bed, unaware of the world around you as you slept, nose tip red and eyes ringed.

He wanted to come in, to tuck you back under the blankets you’d thrashed yourself free from, to check your temperature, to be with you.

He leaves, hand coming up to the glass, wishing to breach it — and all the rules — to see you.

But alas, the next time he sees you is in class a few days later when you’re fully recovered.

As you sidle into your seat, lecture hall (uncharacteristically) devoid of Miguel, your friends lean in to tell you all that you missed.

Though, to your surprise, it’s not academic material they’re covering.

“He kept looking over here while you were gone,” came one friend, smiling. Knowing.

“Yeah,” chimes another, leaning in even closer. “And he didn’t sound like he usually does — he sounded…” They look for the right word, term, eyes sliding upwards as if the answer lay heavenward.

The cogs click, they look at you, pointing.

“Disheartened!”

Of course, your friends knew of your admiration for Miguel, often construing it as romantic attraction, but their jibes never went past a joke – purely satirical. After all, practically every student fancied Miguel.

But, that was the first indication you’d seen that Miguel didn’t just view you as another of his students. Though, you hadn’t seen the other warning signs.

Not that youd knwo this prior to dating him, but Miguel gets unbelievably hard when you call him ‘Mr. O’Hara’. Or, even better, ‘Sir’.

Something about the way you look up at him beneath your lashes, eyes filled with the desire to please him, to get on his good side and undertake any task he set for you, was akin to him having full control over you — academic and otherwise.

It just reminds him of how much power he has over you; for the first time, he feels that he has control over the elements and objects around him — an agent of fate rather than being a subject of it.

That, coupled with his secret identity as Spider Man, sends him on a power trip that often leads him to relieving himself of his growing burden in the privacy of his own four walls, your name laced between the groaning, the panting, the moaning; the only comprehensible instrument in his orchestra.

And, when you eventually start dating, he takes his frustrations out on you.

He makes low, raspy threats when he wants something.

“I’ll lower your grade,” he says, sliding his belt from the loops of his trousers.

The blood draining from your face, your widened stare, your mouth dropping open, make his pants feel tight. Tighter. Goosebumps erupt across his skin.

“Or,” he offers, folding the belt and holding it by the ends. He slaps the belt’s body against itself, sending a crack through the room. You flinch.

“You can be a good little student and earn your grade.”

‘Earning’ often ends with you panting and red and wet, while Miguel watches you between half-lidded, reddened eyes, contact lenses long abandoned, his true nature no longer an enigma to you.

Unfortunately for you.

Extra Yandere Headcanons:

Once you discover Miguel’s true identity, both as Spiderman and a monster, you can never leave.

And not just because you’d be endangering both yourself and him if you ever told anyone.

Miguel, quite simply, cannot live without you. And the thought that you would try to escape him is, despite his intelligence, baffling.

His delusion has blinded him, made him privy only to any positive opinion of him you may have, ignoring your reservations. Invalidating them.

If you ever do make the mistake of trying to leave, Miguel knows he cannot let you have the chance of making it again.

“Can’t risk you getting out, Darling,” he says, placing the finishing knots on the threads of his neon web, keeping your arms constricted behind your back. It’s nigh-impossible to breathe; the likelihood of you breaking your ribs against the pull of the web a certainty rather than you managing to burst it open with any manoeuvre.

He kneels before you, taking your cheek in his hand.

With fleeting defiance, you pull yourself from his grasp, only to see him bear his teeth, fangs and all, and growl. His hands snake about your cheek, your throat, and pull you to him.

“No-one will ever love you like I do,” he rasps. Before you can anticipate, his lips are on yours, parted, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing better than to bite him.

His iron grip on your wrists from last time still haven’t healed.

You daren’t close your eyes for fear that doing so will leave you any more vulnerable than you already are.

Only when he’s breathless does he pull back, eyes half-lidded and gleaming. You can tell he’s angling for something more in the way his hand drops to your shoulder, his eyes sweeping across your collarbones.

But, luckily for you, the two of you know he can’t indulge in you just yet. Not while he has you bound in his basement and a class of students awaiting his arrival.

“I’ll be back for you later,” he says, still panting, forehead pressed to yours. His smile, once pointed and serpentine, is incongruously soft compared to the current circumstances. His lips gentle as he presses a kiss to your forehead. His eyes shimmer with a tenderness that often overtook him in moments of great need – of great “love”, as he’d characterise it.

With a tight, embrace, he parts from you. His shirt is an almost blinding white against the light pouring in from the hallway, the basement door now wide open. He retrieves his glasses from his breast pocket, slips them on. His eyes are unreadable, coloured brown with contact lenses which seemed to conceal his inhumanity from all except you.

“Sit tight, Sweetie,” he tells you. And you are plunged once again into darkness with only the dim glow of his web to accompany you.

And, just like the good, obedient student you are, you obey. For you have no other choice.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

2K notes · View notes

abigolemess · 9 months

Text

um I'm high and inspired also this is not proofread AT ALL. AND TERRIBLE SPEECH FOR HOBIE AS ALWAYS! anyways enjoy :)

tags/warnings: fem!reader, degradation + praise, a lil rough (slapping and pinching), begging, both reader and hobie have voice kinks, drug use, edging, biting, squirting

word count: 🤷🏾‍♀️

"hobie... please..." your voice was deep, raspy, and sultry. hobie thought he would cum on the spot just listening to it. you and hobie had gotten very deliciously high. he responded with a simple "hm?" without stopping his fingers from curling that sweet spot on the inside of your pussy. "please wha'?" his voice was as equally deep, raspy, and sultry. you already know how much hobie is in love with your voice when you get like this. it's part of the reason why he invites you to smoke with him so often. you both smoked however many blunts and shared silence. but once hobie asked one little question, your fate was sealed. hobie already gets horny from smoking, but your voice what always pushes him over the edge. he feels that you should be punished for it. how dare your voice sound so sexy around him? which led to the current fingering session where you were being edged for way too long in your opinion.

"please hobs, please let me cum." you sounded oh-so desperate. hobie wanted to tease you for longer but the sound of your sexy, pathetic whines made him fold. he crawled over you on the bed, his fingers never leaving you. his palm was now pressed firmly against your throbbing clit. hobie got closer to you as you gasped, feeling his very hard cock on your thigh. you felt hobie's warm breath on your skin as his words vibrated into your neck. "fuck babes, i hafta let you cum if ya gonna should like tha," hobie began to thrust his fingers up into you, his palm giving attention to where you wanted it the most. "u sound like a whore. you're my good whore, aren't you?" his words caused you to clench around his slender fingers.

"yes, baby, please." you begged for release as you felt it building up inside your core.

"fuck, say it. say 'I'm hobie's good little whore' fa me" hobie increased the speed of his fingers.

"I'm hobie's good little whore," you moaned, the filthy exchange words pushing you even closer to cumming. hobie's dick twitched against your thigh.

"good fuckin girl. go ahead 'n cum, luv" hobie began sucking on your neck, sure to leave a mark, as you peaked, moaning. you covered hobie's hand in juices. hobie removed his fingers from your pussy before bringing them to his lips. he sucked each one clean with a "pop" before clashing his lips with yours. the sloppy kiss ended with a string of saliva connecting the two of you. you were dazed and fucked out, but you still wanted more. you decide to take matters into your own hands. you reached down and grabbed hobie's dick. he slapped your boob and pinched your nipple, causing you to moan.

"tsk, fucked out an' you still wan' more? ask nicely."

"please put your cock in me hobie. i need it so bad, please baby." hobie groaned in response. he granted your wish almost immediately.

" fuck, you sound so fuckin' good beggin' like tha'. i need ta get you high like this more of'en" hobie lined up at your dripping entrance.

"since you begged so well, fa' me, I'll give ya what you want."

#abigolemess #smut #hobie brown smut #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader

482 notes · View notes

acidnhuskerdust · 3 months

Text

let me be your everlasting light (part 1/3)

18 plus! Minors DNI!!!

Pairing: Husk x Angel Chapter 1: can’t take the effect and make it the cause

Summary: During a rough night at the studio, Angel made the terrible mistake of moaning out Husk's name at the climax of his shoot. After dealing with Valentino's abuse, the spider demon wanted to place blame on the one who is always plaguing his thoughts.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abused and violence, a very angy Angel, breaking down

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: Hi hello! I'm VERY new to this fandom, always loved Hazbin Hotel but never delved into the fandom until the fourth episode of the show!

Hopefully they are in character enough, sorta think of it as a character arc for Angel I suppose? LOL!!!

Main title: Everlasting Light by the Black Keys

Chapter title: Effect and Cause by The White Stripes

AO3 link: x (The 2nd chapter is there as well!)

A plume of smoke escapes past Angel’s lips as the sound of his heels clicking on the floor fill the space of the empty hotel lobby. There was a look of exhaustion etched on his face while he made his way towards the bar. It was a hell of a day at the studio, dried mascara caked on the fur of his cheeks and his lipstick smudged across his lips. Everything ached with widespread pain, yet the spider demon forced himself to walk with poise.

While approaching the bar, his eyes fixated on Husk, his back turned towards him whilst cleaning a glass with a rag. The gentle yellow of the lights above him casting down onto his fur made it look all so peaceful.

Angel��s lips tug up into a soft smile at the sight, Husk has swiftly become his favorite demon to see after such an agonizingly long day.

He goes to settle down on a bar stool, allowing himself to slump forward. He props an elbow on the bar, resting his chin on his hand. “Hey Husky,” He purrs out, his voice a bit scratchy. “Mind pourin’ lil ol me a drink?” His other hand takes the cigarette dangling loosely from his lips, snuffing it out on the nearby ash tray.

Husk lets out a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, setting down the glass he had been cleaning and reaching for a bottle. He turns around with the bottle in hand and silently takes in the sight of Angel before him. His eyes, half-hidden under drooping eyelids and thick brows, seems to drink in the bedraggled figure of his friend.

“Looking like shit, doll,” Husk rasps out finally with the slightest sort of tenderness seeping into his gravelly voice. “Must have been rough today.”

Angel lets out a snicker, finding the nickname sweet as can be as he watches Husk pour him a drink. He sits up, taking the glass into one of his hands and bringing it up to his lips. He takes a large gulp, drinking half of it one go before setting it back down on the bar. A sigh of satisfaction leaves him, enjoying the taste of hard liquor on his tongue.

“Well, ya’know,” Angel finally replies, leaning forward to rest his head against the surface while running a slender finger around the rim of the glass, mauling over his day. “Val was bein’ an absolute bitch as usual...” He huffs out a sigh, a small frown tugging at his lips. “Slipped offa the stage during a show, jus barely by the way. But did he give a shit I hurt my back? ‘Course not.” Angel rolls his eyes, sitting back up to meet Husk’s intent gaze. “Asshole made me work overtime, five dudes, ugly as hell.” He lets out a groan at the recollection, grabbing his drink to take another large swig before continuing, “Then Charlie was up my ass, askin’ why I was back so late. Y’know, just bein’ herself. It was hard enough today, was not willin’ ta deal with her constant chatter.”

Husk raises a brow, seemingly taking in Angel’s frustrations. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips while he grabs himself a glass. “Sounds like you had yourself quite the day.” Husk says with a dry chuckle as he poured his drink.

His voice drips with sarcasm as he adds, “And Charlie… Can’t blame her for trying to keep track of your sorry ass. She means well.”

Angel lets out a groan from his words. He rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and sliding the glass towards Husk. As much as the spider demon hated to admit it, Husk always knew how to ground him, to make him acknowledge when he was being a bit too brash and a bit too rude. It was ever so galling.

“Ya can’t blame me, she’s like a puppy!” He exclaims, throwing all four hands up in a dramatic gesture. “Comin’ through the door, she’s right at your feet, yippin’ and yappin’, going on and on about how ya need to ‘relax’. All sunshine n’ rainbows. Now that… That’s hell. Hell on Hell.”

Husk shakes his head, pouring Angel another glass of the potent liquor. “You’ve got a point,” He grumbles, his arms crossing over his chest.

“She’s got that whole innocent ‘let me help you’ shtick going on.” The demon cat muses, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. “Can be fucking infuriating sometimes.” He shakes his head slightly before fixing Angel with an intent stare.

“But I’ll tell you one thing doll,” He continues, reaching out to tap the rim of Angel’s freshly poured drink with one clawed finger. “That sort of caring isn’t common down here in this shitshow we call Hell.”

Angel takes a moment to ponder over his words before letting out a reluctant sigh. He was right, annoyingly enough; in his years spent in Hell, he’s never met anyone like Charlie.

“I guess..” He murmurs out, taking his glass in his hands to down half of the harsh liquor. “Least I got you Husky,” He purrs out, giving the older demon a sly wink. “Nothin’ better than talkin’ a bartender’s ear off. Specially if he gots the looks like you. I mean… Damn.”

Husk's eyes narrow slightly at his flirtatious remark, a low growl under his breath that made Angel smirk in satisfaction.

“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, Angel,” Husk retorts with a snarl in his voice. “I’m just here to pour drinks and listen to your problems. Ain’t nothing more to it.” His claws grip at his own glass as he takes a long swig.

Angel gives Husk a faux pout, “C’mon babycakes, ya’know I’m just messin’. We’re friends, ‘member?” He lets out a sly chuckle. Although he has simmered down in regards to his constant sexual innuendos since they became closer, he still couldn’t stop himself from slipping in some flirting on the side of their usual conversations.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” Husk mutters gruffly, turning away and busying himself with cleaning another glass. Angel hears him take a deep breath, causing his brows to furrow. What an interesting reaction…

He shrugs it off and finishes his drink, setting the glass down with a clink before stretching all four lanky limbs up into the air, giving him a painful reminder of the condition his body was in. “‘Suppose it’s time ta hit the hay.” He gets up from his seat, letting out a big yawn. “See ya tomorrow mornin? For Charlie’s little… Exercises?”

Husk scoffs under his breath at the mention of Charlie’s ‘trust exercises’. “Sure thing,” He replies dismissively. “See you bright and early then.”

Angel takes his leave, contemplating over how cute Husk looked like when he was so reactive. A smile on his lips as he heads up the stairs, the older demon really knew how to plague his mind.

He was on his mind so much… Angel was getting fed up with it.

The next day comes around, yet Angel never showed up to Charlie’s morning routine. Although he wished he did, wished so very badly that he was able to be there then where he had to go. Valentino called him back to the studio only a few hours after he had laid down, a last minute shoot or something along the lines.

Angel fucked up badly during it, he fucked up real bad.

During the final take, while some stranger was above him, fucking into him hard and fast, all Angel could see was him.

Husk.

Once he reached his climax he shouted out his name, and god the look on Val’s face when he came down from his high was nothing short of terrifying. Then came another brutal talking in his dressing room, thrown around, talked down to, kicked. Fuck, did it hurt.

'What is wrong with you? You do not utter any other name, you do not think of anyone else then who is pounding your pretty little ass! And you will not ruin another take ever again.' He told him.

The words that felt like sharp knives deep within his body bounced around in his mind as he pushed open the doors of the hotel. Charlie’s drill seemed to have just finished, he could hear brief chatter before it all died down once Angel walked past them. All eyes were on him, he could feel it and it made him feel disgusting.

He keeps his head down, all four arms crossed as he wordlessly limps his way up the stairs and goes right into his room.

Angel drags his tired body over to his vanity mirror, placing two hands on the edges to keep himself from crumpling down onto the ground. He stares back at his reflection with weary eyes, he looked so… Fragile. His heart wrenches in his chest at the sight of himself, glaring at his reflection. “Pathetic.” He seethes out. Because that was what he was, what he always will be.

In a fit of rage and despair, he swipes everything off the vanity in one go, the sound of makeup cases and bottles crashing to the ground fell on deaf ears. He felt so much, so fucking much, and god it was just so overwhelming. Why did that demon have to do this to him?

“Fuck!” He growls out, grabbing his chair and throwing across the room. He breathes harshly, going around the room to skew his things about, he needed it to be ruined, ruined like him.

As he grabs an empty bottle of booze to throw against the wall, the sound of knocking makes him freeze. Angel stays silent, hoping whoever there would walk away, yet the door creaks open anyway. He whips his head around with a dangerous glare in his eyes, expecting to see Charlie. Yet, it was Husk. His eyes soften for a fleeting moment, his heart fluttering in his chest.

Although that gaze hardens promptly once he is reminded it was all because of him. He put him in this situation. This fucking asshole.

“Fucking hell.” Husk mutters under his breath. He takes a step inside, closing the door behind him.

The grasp on the bottle tightens as the other begins to approach him slowly. “Angel, what happened?” Husk asks, his voice ever so slightly wavering.

Angel scoffs. “What do ya think happened?” The spider demon snaps, his hand beginning to hurt from how hard he was gripping the bottle. Seeing him right now was the last thing he needed, seeing that concern, that softness, fuck him.

“Fuckin’... Fuck!” He roars, hurling the bottle towards Husk. Despite his state of mania, he still made sure to miss the demon cat, the glass shattering against the wall behind him.

Husk barely flinched, his ears twitching in slight annoyance. He then takes another cautious step towards him, closing the distance between them. “Calm down for fuck’s sake. What happened? Talk to me.”

Angel’s hands tremble with anger and frustration, his mind a whirlwind of self-loathing.

“Fuck off!” He spits out venomously, “It’s you, it’s your fault asshole!” His entire face was filled with anguish. Why? Why did Husk have to be the one Angel obsessed over? Why did he have to be into the one fucking demon on hell that wanted nothing to do with him? He was Angel fucking Dust, he could get anyone he wanted, it wasn't fair. None of this was fucking fair.

Husk’s eyes widened in shock at Angel’s harsh words. “My fault?” Husk repeats, disbelief laced in his tone. “How the fuck is it my fault?”

Angel doesn’t respond, his eyes frantically searching around the room until his eyes spot one of the makeup bags he threw earlier near his bed. He needs something to take the edge off right now, he needs to forget, needs to be numb, he needs to be okay. He stomps over to it, picking it up and zipping it open to begin searching for anything he could find.

He didn’t realize Husk was rushing over to him until his clawed hands grabbed onto the case in an attempt to pull it away from Angel. “Fuck no, you’re not doing this right now.” His voice rings out gruffly, but even Angel can pick up the unmistakable tremor of concern underneath it.

Angel snarls at Husk, his voice dripping with venom. “Get your fucking hands off, ya prick!” He wrenches the makeup case from Husk’s grasps, sending a sharp glare in his direction. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest as the anger continues consume his entire being.

“I can do whateva’ the fuck I want!” He cradles the bag against the chest possessively. “And it is your damn fault,” Angel continues. “Ya got me…” He groans out in frustration, one of his hands coming up to push through his puffy hair. “Got me all fuckin’ twisted up inside! You don’t really give a shit, just anotha sinner in this shithole.”

Husk’s eyes narrow, his frustration mounting. He takes a step forward, the tension crackling in the air. “Twisted up inside?” Husk scoffs bitterly. “What the fuck do you even mean?”

The hand in Angel’s hair grasped tightly at the strands, harshly pulling. His eyes flew around the room, not able to settle his gaze on anything as he tried to think of his words. “You... You know exactly what I fuckin’ mean. Don’t you play dumb with me asshole!" His voice breaks, and his hand pulls harder at his hair till his scalp burned. "You don’t give a damn, I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“You think I don’t give a shit?” Husk’s tone raised with a mix of pain and defiance. His eyes lock with Angel, refusing to back down. “Think again, spider boy. Seen enough pain and suffering to know when I see it. God damnit, I’m here aren’t I? Ain’t that enough to tell you that just maybe I care?”

Angel’s eyes twitched, his words coming out of one ear and right out the other. He takes the final step forward, closing the gap between them till their bodies are almost touching. His breath came out as ragged gasps as he stared directly into Husk’s fierce gaze. “If ya give a damn, then why the fuck do you torture me?” He seethes out, taking notice of the confusion in the other’s eyes. Of course he had to spell it out for him. Angel continues fiercely, tears welling up in his eyes. “Bein’ all nice ta me, nice as ya can be at least, listenin’ to me, pourin’ me drinks. Yet ya reject every single fucking advance. Won’t give spare me a glance, me, Angel Dust!”

His hands shake with both rage and vulnerability as reaches up to Husk’s bow tie, gripping it tightly.

“And guess what? I still want ya.” Angel spits out through gritted teeth, the admission laced with equal parts of desire and anger. “And you know that, don’t ya? You like it, havin’ the famous whore of Hell always chasin after you, yet not giving him an inch to work with. Ya like fucking with my head.”

Husk’s eyes were wide as Angel glared down at him. He seems to be rendered speechless, a heavy silence between them as they both soak in Angel’s words.

Then, there was two clawed hands wrapping around his thin wrists. They were gentle as they pried his hands away from his bow tie. Conflict quickly writes across Angel’s face, eyes flickering down to Husk’s hands.

“Do you really think I’d ever enjoy this?” Husk begins, his voice hoarse, strained with emotions. “Fuckin’ hell Legs, there is nothing fun about that, nothing at all. You don’t get it, I don’t want to be some doll for you to throw around just because you’re feeling desperate.”

A flicker of vulnerability crosses Angel’s eyes. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. He was expecting a violent outburst, to feel a stinging hand across his face. But… He didn’t get any of that. Husk talked to him with patience, his hands barely wrapped around his wrists. Fuck, and the way he stared into his eyes, it felt like he saw his damaged soul.

“I…” Angel begins, feeling at a loss for words. His anger sheds away in a blink of an eye, now he was left confused and not only that, he felt like a total asshole. “Husk…”

He was cut off by the slight squeeze of Husk’s hands. Then he finally takes notice of those yellow eyes, there was a fire burning within them, an unspoken desire.

“You want me? You really fuckin’ want me?” Husk leans closer until their breaths mingle together. “Then prove it.”

His eyes widened, searching his face to confirm this was real, that this wasn’t another rejection.

Angel’s gaze softens, and tears cloud his vision. “I’ll prove it.” He murmurs out, his voice shaky enough to make him feel embarrassed.

The spider demon was the one to close the gap between them, pressing his lips against Husk’s with pure desperation. He was so… Soft. Right now, in Angel’s eyes, everything about Husk was soft.

Husk didn’t push him away like Angel expected. Instead, he responded to Angel’s desperate kiss with equal need. He feels one clawed paw finding its way to tangle itself into Angel’s soft white hair, while the other settled firmly against the small of his back. Husk pulled him closer, and it felt so very warm.

Angel’s eyes screwed tight, tears seeping out and creating a path down his cheeks, making the kiss taste salty mixed within booze and cigarettes.

Husk takes the lead, backing up until the back of his knees hit the bed. He lowers himself down onto the plush surface and Angel follows, moving to straddle the cat demon’s lap. He tilts his head down, deepening the kiss.

It was so much better than all the times Angel day dreamed it in his head. Husk wasn’t rough, yet he matched Angel’s eagerness, pulling his body close till there was no space left between them.

His lips felt like Heaven. How ironic.

What felt like both forever and only a fleeting few moments, Angel was the first to pull away, taking in ragged breaths. He stares down at Husk, in complete awe. Husk gaze only held warmth and understanding.

That gaze was enough to make Angel lose it. He wanted so badly to go into his usual act, settle back into his persona, to make some sort of cheeky remark yet he couldn’t, not right now.

Right now, he was just Anthony.

Fresh tears fill his eyes as he goes to shove his face into the crook of Husk’s neck. He sobs against his fur as all four arms wrap around the other’s body, his hold practically screaming, don’t let go. Never let go. Stay.

“Husk…” He croaks, feeling so hopeless in the moment for showing such a vulnerable side to him. A raw, unfiltered display of pain and anguish and fear.

Gently, Husk lowers them both further down onto the bed, his arms wrapping around his slim torso.

“Shh… It’s alright.” Husk murmurs softly, running a comforting hand up and down Angel’s back. “I’ve got you.”

He’s got him.

That... sounds so nice.

Husk was so wonderfully patient, allowing Angel to release all those pent up emotions that have been festering inside of him for far too long. There was no room for a façade, not right now, Angel allowed himself to cling onto Husk as if he was a life line.

There are no grand promises or empty reassurances, just the comfort of being held and heard by someone who understands pain all too well.

Angel then finds himself beginning to calm down, his breathing steadying itself. Not even an ounce of help from drugs or alcohol this time.

He forces himself up, lifting his head from Husk’s shoulder. His voice comes out choked and broken as he looks into the older demon’s eyes.

“Fuck… I’m sorry,” He mutters, his voice filled with remorse. “Didn’t mean to fuckin’ break down like this.” He wipes at his tears angrily, a mix of frustration and self disgust coursing through him. Did he seriously just sob his eyes after sharing his first kiss with Husk? How pathetic.

He closes his eyes, taking a slow breath. “I… I also shouldn’t have blamed it all on you.” He lets out a long sigh, there was nothing worse than when he had to admit he was wrong.

While his eyes were closed, Angel feels a hand cupping his face and the sound of deep chuckle hits his ears. He slides one eye open to look down at the demon below him with curiosity.

“That must have been hard for you to say.” There was a smirk on his face and Angel wished he had it in him to give him a witty remark. Luckily, Husk continued, “I get it doll, sometimes it feels good to place blame on someone. I sure as hell do it all the time.”

His thumb strokes away a stray tear, and fuck, Angel has never seen such a tender look on the usually grumpy demon’s face.

“I’m sorry too, that I made you feel like I was just trying to torture you. In all honesty, I had no idea you… Actually felt this way towards me.”

Angel’s brow quirked. “Are ya serious? I mean… How many times have I hit on ya?”

Husk rolls his eyes, his smile not wavering. “And how many times have I seen you hit on others?”

Angel huffs out, he got him there.

“But listen to me. You’re allowed to want what you want,” His words turn into soft murmurs. “And I’m here now… To be whatever you need me to be, long as you don’t treat me like one of your boy toys.”

Tears well up into his eyes once again, nuzzling into the tender hand on his cheek. He purrs out a sigh from the contact as he leans in closer. “I don’t need ya to be anythin’,” He says barely above a whisper, his lips barely brushing against Husk’s. “I just need ya to be here right now, want ya to hold me.”

Without hesitation, Husk’s embrace around Angel tightened, holding him securely against his chest. Angel takes the chance to wiggle down, burying his face into his furry chest, breathing in his musk.

“I’ll hold you all night if you need me to.” He replies in a low voice, his lips grazing over the top of his head.

Angel hums contently in response, taking his words and holding them closely to his heart. As silence falls between them, a thought comes to his mind. He chuckles softly, the sound muffled against Husk’s chest.

“Ya’know… I don’t think I’ve eva been on top of a guy without him fuckin’ me,” He says playfully, yet his voice was still filled with genuine warmth. He peers up, just enough for his pink eyes to peak out. “It’s nice.”

The demon below him then lets out a low chuckle, his deep voice vibrating against the spider demon’s head nestled against his chest. “Well ain’t that something,” Husk replied, a smirk on his lips. “Glad to be your first.”

Angel settled his head back against Husk, nuzzling into his fur with a soft smile on his lips. He laid there with Husk all night, and for the first time in a very long time, he was able to get some decent sleep. Husk felt like an oasis amidst the chaos of Hell, and right now?

Right now that was more than enough.

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel #Angel Dust #hazbin hotel husk #husk #hazbin #huskerdust fanfic #my writing

120 notes · View notes

writinganything · 8 months

Text

Theodore Nott Headcanons

His favorite color is deep blue

He mainly speaks italian and english but he can also speak french because his mother was French

It brings me to an headcanon that I thought about. I headcanon his mother to be French and after her death, he tried his best to not forget her language because it’s the last thing that connect him to her.

He says his favorite class is Transfiguration, but it’s secretly Muggle Studies because he used to buy muggle things with his mom to see what they were for.

When you’re looking for him, most of the time he’s by the lake on a bench or sat by a tree.

He’s a hatstall because the Sorting hat was hesitating between Slytherin and Ravenclaw

He actually tried being in the quidditch team as a chaser or beater in fourth year, but didn’t like being bossed around by the captain so he quitted

His first crush was Hermione Granger during his third year because he admired her knowledge and how she doesn’t let herself be walked on. His favorite memory about her was how she punched Malfoy in the face

Theodore always thought girls never looked at him, but oh boy he was mistaken…it’s like he’s blind and it took him to accidentally hear his 2 of his friends, Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson, joking about how many girls wanted him and how their “son” is growing up fast. He still lightly chuckle when he think about this memory.

Not a headcanon but he hangouts with Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, Mattheo and Enzo. But among them, he prefers being with Pansy and Daphne (he will never say it out loud 💀) because he kinda like how they baby him and tell him all about girls thing. Like I can imagine him randomly being invited to their sleepovers and they put makeup on him, skin care, they gossip ect. He mostly like their inside jokes and how everyone around them is confused. He feels good knowing they’re completely comfortable with him to the point where they change in front of each other because it’s not weird and Pansy says “It’s only weird, if you make it weird”. Outside of the girls, he likes being with Blaise

Talking about his favorite girls, him and the other boys made a pact of protecting the 2 at all cost. None of the girls know about the pact, they just think that as male friends, they act like such by scaring away boys that come near them.

Most people call him Theo, but Pansy and Daphne call him Teddy

HELP I COULD LITERALLY DO A WHOLE POST ABOUT HIM, PANSY AND DAPHNE 😭

But anyways

He’ve always hated his father, Faustus Nott, mostly because he was the one who killed his mom, right in front of him with his fists

He cried after getting the dark mark

He wears rings and got an helix piercing before the seventh year after a drunk evening with Draco, Blaise, Mattheo and Enzo

He’s always making fun of Draco because he cannot run fast to save his life 😭

He’s the one of those that don’t study that often but get good grades

His favorite weather is cloudy/rainy because it finds comfort in them. He loves it the most when it’s pouring outside and he’s in the comfort of his dorm/common room reading a book.

He’s a night owl and goes to sleep at like 3am

His friends and himself are just a big happy family

Theodore is so photogenic!! He doesn’t even know it, but Pansy and Daphne always sneak pictures of him without him knowing and he looks majestic in every single one of them

He swears a lot but not too much yk?

He smokes when he’s preoccupied by something and during Voldemort’s return, he would always have a pack of cigarettes with him

Blaise and him speak in sarcasm most of the time and it’s so funny to watch 😭

I like to think he has a lot of moles/beauty marks on him, especially on his chest

He’s an observer, discreet and pay attention to his surroundings

He’s a good 6 foot 2-3 with long legs and Mattheo always fake-jump with a hand on his heart when he sees him. He calls him slender-man

He has the dead eyes with dark circles under them like he hasn’t slept in a decade

During breakfast he only takes 2 French toast with a cup of either coffee or tea, depends on his mood

His type in girls would be the quiet ones, like him. He likes them shy, maybe a bit nerdy who doesn’t talk a lot. Brunettes, maybe blondes, he doesn’t mind which house she’s in but she must get along well with his friends.

He doesn’t spend much time at his manor anymore, because he wants to avoid his father much as possible. So instead, he basically lives at the Zabini’s, his room is right across Blaise’s. Mrs Zabini loves him as if he was his own and treat him as such. What Theo loves doing is helping her around the house just to hear her say “What a wonderful boy you are!…Take him as an example Blaise!” And how his friends rolls his eyes while doing his best middle finger to Theodore. “Blaise, leave him alone!”

He loves reading, his favorite genres are philosophy because it makes him think and say the same smart sentences to his friends afterwards (especially Mattheo and Draco) even tho they don’t understand a thing he’s saying. He likes the classics, horror and romance (yes I see you coming, he reads smut). When he eventually gets a girlfriend, he does to her the romantic things he have read and say loving things the characters said.

His patronus is an eagle/hawk. No I didn’t do any research, I just can picture him with those kind of bird on his arm yk?🧍🏾‍♀️

He genuinely thought he wasn’t gonna survive the war or be put in Azkaban if he even manages to live. During his seventh year, at night, when everyone was asleep in his dorm, he would write letters to his friends and even wrote his will. He gave his clothes and his things to Blaise. 95% of his money was left for Pansy and Daphne while the rest was for charities and do not be fooled by the 5% because it’s the number still have a lot of zeros in it. He wanted Draco to have his wand, he wanted Mattheo to have his rings because he would catch him looking at them in envy and gave Enzo his owl and books. He wanted to have his portrait in each of his friends’ house so he can visit them whenever he wants.

In a modern Hogwarts, he would listen to Chase Atlantic

He plays the piano and a bit the guitar

He loves poems and write some when he has inspiration, Draco have read one of them when he saw Theo had asleep on it and was curious about what he was writing.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #harry potter #harry potter fandom #potterhead #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #daphne greengrass #theo nott #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x reader

153 notes · View notes

bimbvx · 4 months

Text

ending 2023 with kate <3

#thank you all for following along may 2024 bring us even more kate #kate milens #kate the chaser #creepypasta #creepypasta fanart #slender the arrival #slenderverse #slender ta #slenderman #slenderta #art #kate milens hayes

2K notes · View notes

sleepyxxhead · 7 months

Text

༉‧₊˚. 09/27/23!!

SYNOPSIS: it’s tsukishima’s birthday!

WORD COUNT: 0.3k

CONTENT: no warnings!

GENRES: fluff

CHARACTERS: tsukishima kei x gn!reader

NOTES: yayyy my fav dino lover :) he’s 27 today! here’s a small drabble for his bday!!

Tsukishima woke up to the sweet scent of strawberries tickling his nose.

As well as an unfamiliar feeling. His side of the bed sunk just a little bit more than usual; he was just a little bit colder. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, trying to sort through sleepy thoughts in order to figure out what was wrong.

As he opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them, he realized that you weren’t in your usual spot tucked in his arms.

He slowly came to sit up, reaching for his glasses on the bedside table. “Y/N?” he rasped.

Tsukishima heard a small rustle. A few moments later, you stuck your head through the doorframe. “Kei! You’re awake!” You strode to his side of the bed, cupping your hands around his cheeks. “Happy birthday!”

You leaned down to kiss him, rubbing his cheek with your finger. “I made you some cake!” you grinned, grabbing his hand.

After leading him to the kitchen, Tsukishima found the room adorned with dinosaur-themed decor. On the kitchen table, there was a small cake with white frosting and a pink border lined with strawberries. As he stepped closer, he could make out a small T-rex frosted on top with a pink party hat as well as neat, pink letters that read “Happy Birthday Kei! 27!”

“Ta-da! Strawberry shortcake, your favorite!” you beamed.

He looked at you, eyes softening. “Thank you, Love.”

You only smiled in response before grabbing a kitchen knife to cut the cake. “Would you do the honors?”

Tsukishima took the knife in his hands, wrapping his long, slender fingers around the handle. He cut the cake into 6 slices, plating 2 of them to eat for breakfast. As the two of you sat down at the table, you told him about the lunch plans you had made with his old volleyball teammates. He only nodded in response, mouth stuffed full of the sweet cake you had made for him.

NOTES: fdksajf;ldks I ALWAYS DO BDAYS SO LATE AND I’M ALWAYS MISSING BDAYS I HONESTLY JUST HAVE TO SET REMINDERS AND SHIT

ANYWAYS IT’S NOT TSUKKI’S BIRTHDAY IN JAPAN ANYMORE FDSJKA literally crying

have a nice day cutie <33

dividers: @cafekitsune

taglist form

#📎 - works #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #kei #kei x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu fanfiction #haikyu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff

141 notes · View notes

byalexisness · 10 months

Text

☆sharing? nah.

Otoya Eita x gn! reader x (slightly) Karasu Tabito

content warning: yandere themes, con-> dubcon, mentions of kidnapping, polyamorous 'relationship', reader is 'stolen', mentions of otoya wanting to kill karasu, he is a greedy bitch who doesn't respect his promises <3

sharing wasn't exactly otoya's favorite thing.

his ego was always getting the best of him and it made him become greedier day by day.

the second he and tabito made the agreement of 'sharing' you, letting you love both of them at the same time, otoya felt his jealousy grow.

he hated the way you clung onto tabito a little too tight, the way you always smiled at him and smooched his cheeks, cuddling him all day long while he got nothing. in his opinion, at least.

you honestly saw nothing wrong, you always thought you treated the boys the same, showing both of them equal parts of affection and giving yourself to them fully.

but otoya didn't see it like that. not at all.

and he thought knew how to hide it.

he kept repeating to himself that this was okay, that you didn't love karasu more than you loved him, that you were affectionate to him too.

until he noticed a message popping up on karasu's phone while his friend was at the bathroom and you weren't home.

you know what they say, curiousity killed the cat. however, this time, his curiosity made him want to brutally kill his friend.

he grabbed the phone and aggressively tapped in the passcode, his green eyes darkening when he saw the photo of you in a cute lingerie. one that was clearly meant only for karasu, and not for him.

otoya's brain went dumb and he felt rage filling his veins as his hands trembled. this couldn't keep going on, he refused to let it.

he made his decision. you were his and his alone, fuck karasu, fuck sharing you.

he had to take a few deep breaths to calm down and he gently (not so) put the phone back in its place, pretending to scroll through his as he laid back on the couch.

the next day, when tabito came home from practice, much to his panic, otoya was gone.

worse was that, he took you with him.

your eyes fluttered open as you looked around the unknown room. you wanted to stretch your body but you found yourself unable too, the sound of chains dinging making you more aware of your surroundings.

you gasped in surpise when you saw that both your legs and your arms were chained up to the bed and panic started to fill your senses as the cold metal touching your skin made you more aware of your situation.

you started squirming around, pulling at the chains in a futile attempt to escape.

"don't even try." a cold voice could be heard and you froze in place when you realized who it belonged to—one of your lovers.

"e-eita...?" your voice came out barely above a whisper as you saw the tall, white-haired man stepping in the room with a small smirk on his pretty lips.

"yes, my darling?" he looked at you in a sickingly affectionate way, the look in his eyes making you shiver.

"...w-what's happening? w-where are we? w-where is ta-..." you were about to ask but a slender finger made its way on your lips and you suddenly saw otoya standing above you, near the bed.

"don't. don't say his name." he growled softly and kissed your forehead. "you are mine. only mine. no more of him, alright, sweetie?" he asked in a sickengly sweet tone, caressing your cheek.

your brows furrowed and you blinked confused. "w-what do you..."

"shh." he whispered. "mine. say you are mine."

knowing the look in his eyes, if you didn't do what he said, you would be in big trouble. "...i a-am yours, eita..." the words came out of your mouth automatically.

"good, that's what i wanna hear." otoya almost moaned out and he pressed his lips against yours hungrily. you didn't know what has gotten into him, but honestly, it was better if some things were left unspoken. you melted into the kiss and, the more you kissed, the more you fell under his spell, almost forgetting about your second beloved.

126 notes · View notes

laxmiree · 2 months

Text

[CN] MLQC Lucien's Lyric Poetry Event Translation (Day 4-6)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the event that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)

Translation under the cut!

✧ [Day 4] ✧

The rain is pattering outside the window. I quickly open the umbrella and shake it dry. Then, I take out a small packet from my bag, still damp with a few drops of water.

I quietly spread out several rain-soaked flower buds and place them on the table.

MC: Recently, I've been eagerly anticipating when the flowers along the roadside will bloom...

MC: But today, on my way back, I discovered that many flower buds had been knocked down by the heavy rain.

MC: Do you think these can be preserved as specimens?

Lucien slightly raises his eyebrows, sets down the book he was reading, and then gets up to fetch a towel from the bathroom.

Lucien: Of course, it's possible. However, for long-term preservation, we need to remove excess moisture first.

Lucien: The same applies here.

With a soft towel draped over my head, he gently wipes away the raindrops that had splattered onto me.

(he's so gentle and considerate :")

Lucien's post: Although the plan to enjoy the flowers has been postponed, I’ve gained a special decoration as a result.

MC: You’ve received a gift from spring~

Lucien replied to MC: It's you who made it become our collection, so in this light, perhaps you are the spring.

Lucien’s note: Perhaps next time we can try drip glue craft together and make some more practical "specimens", like matching keychains.

✂———————–

✧ [Day 5] ✧

I stare at the package in my hand a bit dazedly—an exquisite storage box containing a beautifully patterned small stone.

MC: This is...?

I look at Lucien with some uncertainty.

Those slender eyes curve into a handsome arc, with a hint of slyness lingering in them.

Lucien: Mineral specimens are also a major category of specimens.

MC: Are you saying this is a piece of crystal?

Lucien: No, it's not.

MC: Then... what rare mineral is it?

Lucien: It's not a rare mineral either.

Lucien: It's just a charming little stone.

Lucien: But when I saw it, you happened to message me at the same time.

Lucien: That's the happiest moment for me today.

(CATCH ME SOBBING)

Lucien: The newly opened dessert shop nearby has freshly baked egg yolk pastries.

Lucien: Do you want me to bring back a piece for you?

MC: Yes, please! This shop always has a long line, and I've been curious about it for a while.

Lucien: If it's delicious enough, will it become the specimen we'll work on tomorrow?

MC: What a pity, just a moment ago, that honor already found its recipient.

Lucien: Judging by your tone, it seems I can only patiently await the arrival of tomorrow.

Lucien’s note: I'm quite certain this is also a kind of specimen. ^^

✂———————–

✧ [Day 6] ✧

MC: Ta-da! This is today's "specimen"!

I proudly place the small box into Lucien's hands.

Lucien: Does this little fox also hide some mysteries?

MC: Hehe, when Professor Lucien sent the message yesterday, I was aimlessly browsing the internet.

MC: After replying to you, the origami tutorial for this little fox was the first video that caught my eye.

Using the same method as him before, I return it to him intact.

The orange little fox sits obediently in his palm, waiting to move into its new home on the shelf.

Lucien’s note: Because the little fox is too cute, I always want to secretly take it away from home and move it to my desk at the Bioultima Research Center.

✂———————–

#PERHAPS YOU'RE THE SPRING and I sob #THE RECIPROCATION #such a cute event huhu #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

28 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

I’m the Only One

Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing, Only One I See, One Thing Leads To Another, One Message Waiting, One Day Closer to You

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

The tea shop is nearly empty that night. You glance through the window as you approach. It’s Monday evening. Time’s ticking and exams are looming just around the corner. The air is crisp with the heightening winter and anxiety.

As you enter, you nearly collide with another. You apologise but your name stops you from backing out onto the pavement. At first, you don’t recognise him. It takes a moment before his name flickers in your mind and you say it in unison.

“Jensen,” you greet and he smiles at your recollection, “hey, uh, that’s the right name, right?”

“Jake, Jensen, either or works for me,” he steps out of the way and waves you through, a paper bag pinched between the fingers wrapped around a lidded cup, “how’s it going?”

“Uh, well, it’s fine,” you shrug, “you?”

“Yeah, um, good,” he says cheerily, “I’m so happy I ran into you. Without Inez.”

“Oh? Really?” You muse.

“She’s nice and all but… scary,” he scoffs, “no, actually, I wasn’t sure if I would. Uh, run into you, you know?”

His stammering is endearing as he adjusts his slender glasses on his nose.

“Yeah, sure, I… you meet so many people here, you never know if you’ll cross paths again,” you push your shoulders up higher, “you’re in… engineering?”

“Computer science,” he corrects you, “but close. English?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” you chirp, “boring old stuff. You know, one day I’ll be a barista… maybe I’ll even work here.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he says and blanches. He drops his free hand and touches his coat pocket, “dang, I’m sorry, I’m actually headed off to work on a project but uh… I’ll see you around?”

“Sure thing,” you answer, “Jake Jensen… think I could probably hunt you down online. Or… you’re in computer science, you can find me.”

“Don’t encourage me,” he chuckles, “I got a few tricks up my sleeve already.”

“Right, um,” you look around, “oh, and looks like I’m keeping my study buddy waiting too.” You spy Professor Rogers in the corner. He’s watching you but as you look at him, he doesn’t really seem to see you. His eyes are pinpointed on Jake’s back, “I’ll let you go.”

“Right, uh, bye,” he angles around you, an awkward shuffle as you try not to trip over each other.

The door dings as it shuts and you hike up your bag as you head toward Steve. He winces as you get close and the tension eases from his jaw. He smiles as you slip off your backpack and lower yourself into the armchair by him, a low coffee table in the small nook.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to hold you up,” you say.

“Hmm, oh, that’s alright,” he waves you off, “that a friend of yours?”

“Jake? Not exactly. I know him through Inez, they, uh, play a game together,” you explain, “I don’t really get it though.”

“Oh, that’s… cool,” he comments, “I don’t know why but I thought…” he laughs and shakes his head, “I don’t wanna embarrass you but I thought you and him were maybe, more than friends.”

“Ah, oh,” you’re taken aback by the suggestion. As much by the idea that you and Jake were anything more than brief acquaintances or that Steve would even think of that, “no, no. Ha, no. You know how it is, you go to all these things and you meet a billion people you’ll never see again.”

“Guess I wasn’t that popular in college,” he kids, “mmm, before I forget…” He bends over his lap and grabs his messenger bag, “I actually meant to get this to you at the end of class but it slipped my mind.”

He reaches under the flap and wiggles a shape free. A rectangular white box with a silver emblem embossed on the side. He holds it out to you as he hugs his bag.

“What’s this?” You wonder, “Professor, I can’t–”

“Steve, and… think of it as a congratulations. For the TA position. It’s a big achievement.”

“Really, it’s so nice, but I really don’t think–”

“Please, open it,” he pleads, “I got it for you.” His brows draw together, “I really don’t wanna tag it back to the store. I kinda made a big deal about hunting it down.”

You feel helpless. If you accept it, it’s inappropriate. But if you refuse, well, that feels worse. Well, who would know but you? You take the box from him and cradle it in your lap, pressing your thumb to the logo.

“Well?” He urges eagerly.

You bite your lip and open the top. You unwrap the tissue paper from the top and reveal the lid of the mug. You pull it out a few inches and turn it. It’s almost the exact same one you broke at the orientation. You can’t believe it.

“How did you find this?”

“Well, I set my mind to something and I make it happen,” he rubs the back of his neck, a touch of pink in his cheeks, “do you like it?”

“It’s so nice of you– I– Thank you, Professor, you really didn’t have to do that,” you slide it back into the box and stuff the tissue down as you close the box, “I… I better work hard if I’m gonna make up for it.”

“You’re perfect, I mean… you’ll do perfect,” he leans forward, “really, you’re a great student. You’ll be great.” He peers around, “so you want a tea? Coffee? My treat.”

“Erm, okay,” you accept, “but let me get it. You got the cup–”

“I insist,” he stands and feels around for his wallet, “a student like you, you should save your money. For parties or whatever. Or ramen.”

The joke falls flat but you muster a laugh for him. You feel bad. He’s trying and he just seems so stunted. Like he just doesn’t know what to say. Like your mom whenever she was around your friends in high school.

“I’ll have a green tea,” you say, “please. Too late for caffeine.”

“Green, got it. Lemon or honey in it?”

“Just the tea, thank you,”

“Anything,” he grins again and clears his throat, spinning on his heel sharply, “tea, yeah, that’s it.”

He strolls away to the counter, no queue there, and he taps his fingers on the counter. You watch him as he orders, taking a thoughtful moment to make up his mind as he makes a show of browsing the menu above. He almost makes you feel better about your own lack of social grace.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #au #professor!steve #marvel #avengers #captain america #mcu

277 notes · View notes

nymphoheretic · 1 year

Text

Nymph: more bleach men incoming! This time Gin Ichimaru!

Synopsis: You’ve been a brat to your husband long enough, so now Gin has to punish you.

Warnings: Gin has a Kansai dialect, Brat Tamer!Gin, spoilers for Gin’s eyes, impact play, spanking, Gin calls the reader “Angel”, implied sex

Word Count: 1.1k

Pairing: Gin Ichimaru x f!reader

Tags: @tokyometronetwork @linpunny @sailewhoremoon @bizarrebankai @blueparadis

You know better than to test Gin’s patience for long. Your husband is always so unusually calm about things. His fox-faced look never seems to leave his face no matter how hard you try to brat to him. He would just smile down at you and hold one long, slender finger to his lips. You had simply thought that he would forget about it like he always does.

But you were wrong. Oh so wrong.

Coming home one day, tired from work. You had hoped Gin had already run you a relaxing bath, but was met with him sitting on the bed, his normally closed eyes open to show a sliver of those chilling blue irises. You swallowed dryly. Gin never opens his eyes unless it was something serious. “Gin...” Your voice was a soft whisper as you locked eyes with him.

Gin spreads his legs and pats his right thigh. “C’mere, Angel.” His tone was low and left no room for you to say “no.” “Strip out those clothes, too.” He watches as your throat bobs as you swallow again. Icy blue eyes never once leaving yours as you slowly remove your clothing. “Ah, leave the heels on, dear.” He coos as he crooks that single finger at you.

You nervously shuffle over to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. As you move closer to him you could see the plastic paddle that rests next to him. “G-Gin...” You whimper out. It’s been so long since he has given you a punishment that the mere sight of the toy intimidates you. “I’m sorry for being a brat.”

A soft chuckle leaves him as his smile returns, his eyes closing once more. “I know, angel. But I’ve let ya’ go long enough without a punishment. Fourty-five times in fact.”

Your eyes widen. Was...was that everytime he would silently shush you for your behavior? You didn't think he actually kept count. Oh who were you kidding? This was your husband, Gin. He was always just a few steps ahead of you. With a dry swallow when he crooks his finger at you, beckoning you to bend over his knee, you move closer to him. “Please?” You try again to plead with him.

“Angel.” His voice was quiet, low, and stern. You were going to get your spankings and you were going to enjoy them. Once you were close, he gently wraps his long fingers around your delicate wrist and pulls you down over his lap. His smile was back on his lips as his fingers ghosts over the curve of your rear. “Such pretty skin and I get ta make it red.” His fingers lightly trace over your pussy lips, feeling you jump in surpise before he reaches for the paddle. “Count them, fer me, pretty. And don’t make a mistake.”

You knew not to brace yourself for the first impact of the plastic against your skin, but Gin never gave any warning as to when he would bring it down on your flesh. You flinch when the paddle strikes you and quickly count the first smack. By the twenty-fifth strike, the pain turns into pleasure and you let out a lewd sounding moan each time Gin would spank you.

Gin stops for a moment, his fingers tracing over the redden marks on your thighs and plump rear. Each strike was perfectly aimed and he demonstrates perfect control over his strength. “My my, are ya gettin’ turned on from this?” He glides his fingers through your soaked folds, spreading them apart to watch the strings of your arousal drip down them. “This is supposed ta be a punishment.”

He looks down at you, his smile still never leaving his lips as he tilts his head. “I’m waiting fer an answer, Angel.” The paddle cracks against your skin lightly yet still firm enough to draw another keening moan from your supple lips.

“ ‘m sorry, Gin. It feels so good though” You babble out, lifting your hips for more of the “punishment.” You whine when he takes too long. There were still ten left. “Baby...please? I need it. I’ve been such a brat to you.”

Gin’s lips spread further, his eyes crinckling just a bit as his sadistic tendencies begin to rise. “Ya need it? Then this isn’t a punishment anymore.” He traces his fingers down one thigh, the rough pads gliding over the soft flesh and up the other. His other hand grabs the paddle once more. “Maybe I should put more strength inta these last ten, yeah?”

Before you could even reply back, he raises the plastic high above his head and smacks it soundly against the back of your thighs. You let out a piercing cry from the shock of how much stronger than impact was against our skin. The flesh was throbbing as the pain settled in. Tears pooled in your eyes as the pain spread from your nerves.

He smacks the paddle against you in a quick series, stopping just before the last one. “My, you’re still getting so wet from even this?” Gin dipped his fingers back into the sticky pool of slick that gathers at your entrance. He spreads your juices over the back of your thighs and rear before bringing his soaked fingertips to his mouth. “Hmm...sweet. Just like dried persimmons.” Gin opens his eyes, showing those crystal blue irises that never fail to entrance you when you look into them.

“One more ta go, pretty Angel.” He lifts the paddle once more, only to drop it when it nears your flesh and his hand makes contact. Gin grabs a handful and begin to knead the flesh firmly. “Fourty-five.” He moves his hand to your hair and pulls you up so that you were straddling his lap. Gin pulls you down to meet his lips in a greedy kiss. “Ya did so well fer me. Taking yer punishment.” He feels your wetness seep through his clothing, leaving a damp spot on the crotch of his trousers. “I suppose I should fuck you now, hmm? How does that sound, Angel?”

You eagerly nod your head as you grind down on the bulge you felt growing harder underneath you. “Please, Gin. I need you so badly.” You let out a squeak when he suddenly reversed your positions, his pants already down to his knees to free his erection as he pressed your thighs to your chest. You cry out when he rubs the head of his cock through your slick folds.

Gin coos down at you as he slides inside with one smooth thrust, his heavy balls tapping lightly at the redden flesh of your ass. “Who am I ta deny my pretty little angel?”

#nymphomanic♡#bleach x you #bleach x reader #bleach fic #bleach smut #bleach x reader smut #bleach x y/n #bleach x female reader #gin ichimaru smut #gin ichimaru x reader #bleach fanfic #bleach fanfiction

149 notes · View notes