#i turned on my tablet and saw this

[creaturefeaster]

hey what the hell

[dovakiind]

Farkas, Skyrim request from @theplainwriter

~~~~~~~~~~

Farkas was my first Skyrim husband, so I hope I did him justice

I also went a bit more for my normal style today, and I'm happy I did!

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If you want to request an Elder Scrolls sketch, check out my pinned post nwn

[angstyastro]

New toy 🥹 baby Astro is very excited. I could only dream about having a tablet/drawing pad this big before so I’m so excited to make new and better stuff soon ❤️

[dolly-spit]

doodle dump brought to you by my involuntary sleep deprivation :v

[mrkgrl]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. It's time to spread positivity 🤍🧚🏻‍♀️

Gasp, anon! Let me bless your day:

Amen.

[whowhatifs]

My @wayfarer-exchange gift for @joy-fires: Pasha Cenric (she/they)!

And if I did go overboard / Then I would surely die / But if I could have one thing in life / I would love her by and by - Siren's Song by Brave the Sea

[Image ID: A lineless digital illustration of a muscular fantasy character with coral-pink skin and vitiligo, pointed ears, and there is a tattoo of a squid on her upper left arm. This description will use both she and they pronouns to refer to her. Their eyes are closed and she's smiling softly. She is cradling a large heart against their chest and glowing golden liquid is trickling out of it and dissolving in the water, but seems to be in danger of running out. She is floating in front of a dark blue background of a starry sky over water. The colours are most saturated near the top of the piece above the heart and decreasingly saturated towards the bottom, her boots almost dissolving into the background. /End ID]

[the-backwards-eel]

Help what the fuck is this in the corner of my samsung tablet

[shootsun]

Tell me Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon, do you not fear drowning?

[indefiniteavatar]

So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.

I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.

[monstersflashlight]

Alien who accidentally fingers you during one of his examinations of the human body and is intrigued by your reaction

Hi! This took a turn at the end unexpectedly. Hope you like it and thanks for the request! <3

Alien inspection

Alien x fem!reader || dub-con (kinda?), finger-fucking, groping, lowkey humiliation

When you arrived to the space station you weren’t expecting to pass any medical exam. They told you back on Earth that you’d be free to go anywhere without background check. You should have guessed they were wrong. So now you were patiently waiting in a room full of alien creatures. There were so many different morphologies and colors and textures… Your poor human brain was overwhelmed with all the information you were getting just sitting in the waiting room.

After what felt like an eternity but probably was just half an hour, a metallic voice called your name and a very, very tall alien stood before you to escort you. He started talking in a language that sounded completely extraterrestrial, full of weird sounds and clicks. You looked at him confused, and he looked at you like he never saw a human before. A spark of surprise crossed his features as he extended his hand and clicked something next to your ear. The translator. Oh fuck, you forgot.

“Sorry, I forgot I had to do that.” You explained, already embarrassed.

“It’s okay, it’s your first time here.” His voice sounded weird when translated, but at least you could understand him now. “I’m excited, you are my first human.”

“Uh? What do you mean?” You asked, completely confused at what he meant. You couldn’t be the first human arriving at the station, there were at least fifteen other women in your same ship.

“I’m new in this facility, I’ve never seen a human before.” That explained it. You said nothing as he led you to another room. “Remove your coverings and sit there.” He pointed to a metal table in the middle of the space.

When you were finally naked and exposed completely to him, he turned around and started writing in his tablet. He put some cables around your chest and soon you heard the telltale sound of a cardiac machine, the beep beep of your heart deafening in the silence of the room. His clinical look of your body was making you feel extremely self-conscious, and a bit hot. You didn’t know what he had, but his detached look and the way he didn’t instantly look at your tits made you feel a bit better, but also started a fire inside of you.

You took time to study him as he kept writing stuff. He was so tall his head almost hit the ceiling, his skin such a pale green color that looked almost white. He was handsome in a very extraterrestrial way, otherworldly. And then you saw his hands. They looked like spider legs, super long and with at least four knuckles instead of the two humans had. It was weird, so weird, but it did something for you. It picked your interest in hot way, in a way that made you wonder how would that feel against your skin.

“Why is your skin turning pink?” He asked, writing down some stuff.

“I’m embarrassed.” You explained, trying to sound as clinical as him. He looked at you with a face that asked you to elaborate. No words needed. “I am naked and you are not, and you are looking at me, and I’m naked.”

“Interesting. Is nakedness wrong by human standards?” He asked, as he checked something on the machine and wrote it down.

“Well, yes and no.” He made a weird sound that your translator didn’t get and kept pressing some kind of instrument to your head and neck, tickling you. You giggled and he looked intently at you, not saying anything but writing down in his tablet. He lowered his weird hands to your chest. “Ouch!” You slapped his hand away when he pinched one of your nipples with his way too long fingers. Your heart raced as he did it again. “Ouch!!”

“Uh, that’s interesting. Your heart-rate spiked. Why?” He asked, looking between your boobs and the machine, his confused face was kind of adorable.

“I- That- Nipples are a sensitive area for humans. For some humans, at least. For me.” You babbled when you were nervous and he was making you really nervous at the moment.

“Interesting.” He didn’t let you out of the hook, grabbing your boobs and massaging them to his heart’s content. You were struggling to remain quiet, his touch turning you into a hot and bothered mess. You always had very sensitive tits, and his hands groping you were more than a bit arousing.

He kept at it for what you felt like ages, groping your boobs, measuring them, pinching your nipples (softer this time). He explored every tiny millimeter of your boobs as you rubbed your thighs together in what you hoped was not too obvious manner. At some point, when you were about to draw blood because of how hard you were biting your lip to stop the groans for escaping, he moved his hands down. Touching your abdomen, taking notes, poking your bellybutton and making you giggle.

“Open your legs.” He instructed next, pulling at your ankle softly, looking at you with his big pale eyes.

“What? No!” His previous touch left you dripping wet, you could feel your juices all over your pussy and the inside of your thighs. You really, really, didn’t want him to find out he aroused you. Fuck.

“I have to inspect your genitals, too.” The clinical way in which he said it made you shiver, uncomfortable, but weirdly turned on. What the fuck was wrong with you? He was a doctor, he wasn’t trying to fuck you. You didn’t even like aliens. Right? Well, maybe you did like this particular alien. So you complied and opened your legs slowly.

“Why is it wet? Is normal for it to be wet?” He asked, parting your lips and grabbing some of your juice, taking it to his face to smell it. He poked his tongue out and tasted it, making you let out a groan. He looked at you, alarmed. “Well? Is it normal?”

“Is normal when humans are aroused.” You told him, trying not to groan again.

“Are you aroused?” He didn’t stop his exploration, not even looking at your eyes when he said that.

“Yes.” You whispered, completely embarrassed, feeling a bit humiliated at the fact that he turned on by just his medical touch. You were perverted.

“Interesting.” His complete lack of reaction to your words made you feel humiliated and confused, some more wetness leaking out of your gaping hole. His intense eyes focused in your pussy again. “It twitched!” He exclaimed. Two milliseconds later, one of his fingers was pushed inside of you, making you groan and arch your back.

He experimentally moved his finger around, hitting your G-Spot and making you moan again. “Does that feel good?” He retracted his finger just to push it back again.

“Yes!” You looked down, he had just two knuckles inside of you, the other two were still out. His fingers were longer than any dick you’d ever seen, and he looked like he wanted to push the whole thing inside. God yes. “More, please.” You begged as he crooked his head at you, confused by your reaction but starting to push deeper, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside, stretching you. Fuck.

When his long fingers entered you completely, he started to finger fuck you intently, thrusting in and out and touching your G-spot every time he could. He was driving you wild. And when another finger found your clit, you screamed, making him look up and then repeat the movement to see how your face looked when he did it. He never lost his medical look in your body, not seeming interested on you as a person, but just your human anatomy. It made you feel humiliated, and that fired the heat inside of you.

He played with your pussy like he was a master of it, touching all the right places, rolling your clit and rubbing it just the right way. Before any of you were ready, you were coming hard around his fingers, thrashing on the table and babbling nonsense between groans and moans.

He took his fingers away and shoved them in his lab coat pocket, saying: “That was very illuminating. Thank you.” He then turned around and went away, leaving you naked and panting on the table.

A nurse entered and with one look at you they said: “Ugh, he fucked you, didn’t he?” You tried to dress rapidly as they kept looking at you.

“What?” Your face grew hot, probably red as a tomato.

“He has a human kink and always fucks the patients.” The nurse looked infuriated and tired as they pinched their nose-like appendage on their face.

[midnightsprincess]

.

[caramello-styles]

📅🧼 (mwah! have a good day)

MY DANI LOVIE THANK YOU FOR SENDING SOME 😘

📅A song that calls up a very specific time and place for you:

• billie eilish’s first album: it came out in 2019 when I was doing a two-week mapping project out of town, I listened to it everyday from the moment I stepped on the train till I went back home

• it was early 2021 when we were finally allowed to meet outside so I met up with my closest circle from uni and one of them just got new earphones so I asked to try it and ofc I chose harry’s song 😀 she asked me what I listened to and I told her ‘yknow just watermelon sugar.’ and she was like ‘oh isn’t that a song by zayn?’ ADHAJOA THE SIDE EYE I GAVE HER 😭🤣 I WAS SHOCKED she won’t hear the end of it so yeah it became our internal jokes lol

• this is more like a song that I need to listen to on my drive, it came out in 2021 when I started intensively drive everywhere whether with my family or closest friends to the point they also know every word of this song HAHAH I feel so proud 😌 until this day the song is still included on my playlist 🫶🏼

🧼What I sing in the shower:

• I don’t sing in the shower 😅😂 but you could probably hear me randomly humming lmao

[lightsoutletsgo]

the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.” 

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment. 

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm,  “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!” 

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿  As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.” 

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you,  “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o’clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly 

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!” 

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!” 

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was. 

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly. 

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you. 

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black,  standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair. 

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more. 

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room,  “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you,  “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours. 

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer. 

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.” 

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime.  “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later. 

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side,  “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile, 

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?” 

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.”  You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

[the-californicationist]

Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 

So, you left. 

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 

“I swear…” 

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…” 

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 

You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 

[cyn-write]

"You've Bewitched Me"

Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...

Pairings - NRC Students x F!reader

Warnings - Gossip, Incredibly Shy Reader with Stage Fright, Depictions of Anxiety, Not Beta Read

Song - "Bewitched" by Laufey

Prologue (Here) - Heartsyble - Savannaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia

When @/thegreatestmagealive uploaded a video of the Ramshackle Perfect singing a love song, to say NRC nearly blew up would be an understatement.

The song, the poster titled “Bewitched,” became an instant hit across campus, but also became the source of tension as everyone was asking the same question: Who bewitched the Ramshackle Perfect?

“20 Thumbmarks on Leona!”

“15 on Kalim!”

“Kalim? Really, no it has to be Vil!”

“30 DOLLARS ON LORD MALLEUS!”

“EVERYONE HUSH! Now Francis, how much on Vil?” The Halls of NRC were filled with gossip on who the song was about. There were multiple pots floating around of people betting on who it was about, and just as many heated discussions.

“Who says it’s a housewarden? She spends most of her time with the Freshies so it has to be one of them! My money is on the Red Head on the Basketball team, he is always hanging on her!” A Scarabia student chimed in at this corner table of the Cafateria.

“Ace? He’s an ass, no it has to be Spade! Anytime someone makes a comment about he at practice, he gets all defensive.” A Heartstyble student on the track team chimed in.

“That runt? Na, he has nothing on Jack.” The Savannaclaw student across from them chimed in.

“The Wolf? He barely says any words! Besides, the Perfect has more class than that, it has to be Epel!” A Pomefoire Student retorted getting glares from the Savannaclaw student.

“All of you are wrong, I ran the data,” The Ignanhyde student pulled out his tablet and showed them a chart, “Out of all the possibilities crossed referenced with the lyrics of the song, it has to be-“

Debates across the school were happening as people discussed who she was singing for. While some advocated for others, others advocated for themselves.

That night, in the midst of the debates, a poor Grim was looking for a place to stay the night. So he went first to Heartstyble.

Grim walked through the portal and saw *chaos*.

“CAULDRON!”

“DEUCE WHAT THE HELL!”

“Calm down you two! No one is going anywhere till Riddle gets back!”

Trey helped Ace out from under the cauldron while Cater tried to calm down Deuce who was red as roses. “Yuu’s private song was just released and all you can think about it YOURSELF!” Deuce called out to Ace as he attempted to wesal himself out of Cater’s grip.

Ace dusted himself off as Trey helped him up, “Well, it is pretty obvious! Who else could it be about? You Loosey Duece? Or maybe Mr. Magicam? Chef Dad? Or maybe, our esteemed leader? No. It has to be me, so I am going to go check on her-“

Deuce tackled Ace, again, so Trey and Cater had to dive in to separate the two.

It did not take long for grim to realize it might be best to come back later. So he went back through the portal to try Savannaclaw.

But his scruff was grabbed before he could step through.

“Heeeey, Sealie!!” Grim gulped as he knew that voice all too well. Floyd turned Grim around so he was facing the two most terrifying smiles in NRC. “Mind clearing something up for Jade and I? See, he thinks Shrimpy’s song is about him, but I say its bout me. And every guppy is saying a different name, so we wanted to get info from them inside fishie~”

“W-what are you talking about!” Grim said crossing his arms. He knew he was in deeeeep dodo.

“Come now Grim, you must know who she’s singing about?” Jade said with a sonically smile on his face, “Now, as Yuu’s close friends, we just want to know, who bewitched our dear friend?”

“Yeeeaaah Sealie, who?” Floyd sung melodically.

“I-I ain’t saying anything!” Grim kept his mouth shut. He had already made Yuu mad, he didn’t want to make. It any worse.

“Oh come on Sealie! Everyone has a price! What’s yours??-“

“What are you two doing?” Came the harsh voice of Vil, Grim’s savior. The housewarden meeting must have finished. Early as all seven, yes even Malleus, came into the hall of mirrors to witness poor little grim shiver in his fur.

“Heya Beta!” Floyd said and waved Grim around, “We’re just asking Sealie a question! That’s all!”

“I’m guessing it’s about Yuu?” Azul asked as he made his way over to his Eel’s. “How is the Ramshackle Perfect? We missed her at the meeting.”

“Yuu… wellllllllll….” Grim scratched his cheek and the other housewarden’s came over, all wondering the same thing, “She is kinda sorta mad at me. And kinda sorta threw me out for ‘not respecting her privacy’ which I didn’t mean to get her upset, I just wanted to show everyone she had a pretty voice and she got all mad.”

“We’ll if you need a place to stay, Octavinelle is always open to poor souls! And I am sure we can work out a pi-“

“We all know what you want Azul, just ask him now so we can clear this up!” Leona said, clearly annoyed at the Mers underhanded methods. “Whose the song about?”

“I-I don-“

“Why are we even asking this question? It is clearly me!” Vil said shaking his head.

“What makes you so sure Schoenheit?” Malleus asked, “I spend more time with the Child of Man and have more magical prowess, it is defiantly about me. I was just about to grab her the-“

“No way the songs about you Lizard!” Leona retorted, “She clearly-“

“The Song’s about Nii-Chan! I ran the-“ Ortho chimed in with Idia listening in on his screen.

“WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET!” Riddle yelled, somehow getting the attention of the others, “This is disgraceful! You are. All concerned with your own selfish needs when you should be worrying about our fellow housewarden whose privacy has been breached and is probably distraught!”

Kalim nodded and said, “Yeah, we need to go cheer her up! Besides, it was probably just a song about love, nothing else!”

Grim sighed and added, “Oh its about someone, You she hear the other songs she wrote about him-“

“About WHO!” Everyone asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Grim said and got the glares of everyone.

Azul sighed and said, “You just said you knew.”

“I said I knew she has a crush and wrote more songs about him. I never said I knew WHO it was.” He crossed his arms and looked at the ground, “And she threw me out before I could ask. I tried going back in but she sounded so… upset. When I asked to come back in and apologized she said she just wanted to be alone…”

The group looked dejected at this. Floyd let Grim go and sighed, “Poor Shrimpy…”

Azul looked at Jade and Floyd, “Let’s go, Lounge won’t run itself.”

As Azul left with his Eels, Leona and Kalim also branched off their dorms, “Jamil is probably wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, I gotta make sure Savannaclaw is still in one piece.”

Vil and Ortho branched off next with Vil grumbling about wrinkles and Ortho talking to Idia.

Riddle and Malleus were the last two left with Grim.

“Grim, your welcome to stay at Heartstyble. It might help keep Ace and Deuce in.” Riddle said then looked to Malleus, “The Perfect probably needs a night, but if you do check on her, please let her know I-… We are here if she needs us.”

“I will Roseheart,” Malleus nodded to his red haired companion as he and Grim walk through the Heartstyble Mirror. Malleus turns and before he can make his way to Ramshackle, Lilia is there. All he has to do is shake his head and Malleus knows what his mentor is trying to say, she needs time alone.

The next morning, the first years go to Ramshackle to walk with Yuu to breakfast as they do every morning, but when they got their, the ghost intervened and said she needs to sleep in. The three ghost refused to let any of them enter and even brought Grim’s stuff to the door.

Yuu did not show to any of her classes or reply to any text, and all of her friends quickly understood why. Yuu’s song was all everyone was talking about, more specifically, who it was about. All the pots from the nights before had tripled and almost every students had a guess on who it was about. Yuu has never felt more embarrassed.

By the time night rolled around again, Yuu had read every text, post, and comment about her song. People were making guesses and demanding she confess who. In the midst of the chaos and rumors, all she could think about was what her crush was thinking. She had liked him as more than a friend for a while now, but had no clue if he returned the sentiment. All the worse possibilities were running through her head.. ‘He probably thinks I’m some obsessed freak, this is so embarrassing, Grim ruined. everything, there is no coming back from this. our friendship is ruined, I can never show my face at school again…” Thoughts like this combined with her stage fright made her mood worse. She wrote songs and sang them to help her work through things, it was incredibly personal for her and she never intended to share any of them, not yet at least. Now she was lying in her bed, curled up in her blankets with her phone lighting up with text next to her. She could not bring herself to talk to anyone, she was too scared and embarrassed to.

The Ghost have been kind enough to fend off Grim (who she was still mad at) and her friends (who she was still too embarrassed to see) so she could have some time alone. They worked as her guards and caretakers, making her eat and get up every now and then. They were also the only ones who knew who her songs were about.

So when he arrived on her doorstep, the ghost decided to let him in.

Yuu was looking at her notebook, pouring over the lyrics again and again when a knock came at her bedroom door.

“Yuu… can I come in?” His voice carried through the door.

Yuu felt her heart stop. She held her notebook tightly and sighed, “I guess its now or never…”

She got up from her bed, notebook in hand, and stood in front of the door. She was shaking and as she stared at the door, terrified of what would happen next, when he cast a spell over her once again:

“Yuu, I… I don’t. know if that song was about me but I want you to know. You’ve bewitched me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: This is the Prolouge to a small series! Be on the look out for each characters part and if you want tagged please let me know! Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[runa-falls]

something new

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+)

cw: smut, afab!reader, fluff :3, grinding/dry humping, pussy-job, creampie, 'outercourse', soft boyfriend!mig

w/c: ~2k

a/n: rewrite of my old fic bc i need it with miguel. if you read it before ignore it ;^) mig looks like this fanart by @xynnoix

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You’re lounging on the sofa, legs resting in Miguel's lap and sitting in comfortable silence, when you decide to proposition him.

“I saw this video online and…I wanna try something with you.” He briefly looks up from his spider-pad, attention perked at your soft-spoken voice.

You beam at him from across the couch, an innocent smile slapped on your face as your lashes bat nicely against the tops of your cheeks.

Miguel simply shakes his head dismissively, “Cariño, we’re not doing any more MMA techniques.” He swiftly turns his attention back to his work, pointedly ignoring your childish pout. “You got hurt last time, remember?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, “First, I didn’t even twist my ankle during the match! I literally slipped down the stairs when we left the training area. Secondly, that’s not even what I’m talking about!” 

“Ok, then what is it? WWE moves?” He asks teasingly, eyes still focused on the screen.

“Actually…I wanna try outercourse-- i-is that how you say it?” You talk about it so casually that he doesn't even realize what you’re saying until he plays it back in his head a few times. The finger that was working through several urgent emails slows down as you continue to ramble. 

“...Like pussy-jobs and grinding, I think. I don’t exactly know the technical terms that are involved, but it looked hot–” Your voice tapers off when you realize he’s looking at you.

His darkened gaze concentrates on your thighs that are unintentionally rubbing together as you recall your new interest. 

You know that look. His glaze-over eyes, furrowed brows, and tense body mean one thing: he’s interested too. 

Despite how worked up he is, Miguel manages to gently place his tablet on a side table before slowly wrapping his fingers around your ankles on his lap.

“So you want me to fuck you without actually fucking you?” 

“Y-yes...?”

He hums, turning his whole body to face you.

He fluidly pulls your body down to lay flat on the couch in front of him, barely leaving any room for him to sit. You feel his hand tap the side of your thigh.

“Open up for me, baby.”

Your loose shorts hike up your thighs as you obediently spread your legs for him, kneesbending to make space for him to scoot closer to you. The pale pink fabric displays a dark splotch over your center, evidence of your arousal and lack of underwear underneath. Miguel tauntingly raises an eyebrow when he notices.

“Aw, is your pussy already leaking for me?” Your breath stutters as he lightly glides his finger over your covered cunt.

“J-just a little.” Your thighs threaten to close when you feel him prod shallowly against your entrance. He groans, noticing how his movements encourage your slick to soak through the flimsy fabric of your shorts. 

You whine as you feel him pull away.

“Such a juicy slut for me.” He rasps, pushing himself closer to you so his head hangs over yours. Your head swims when you breathe in his comforting scent, he's so close, but you need him closer. Your body instinctively attempts to press up against him.

“Gimme a kiss, cariño.” 

You immediately obey, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs over his waist, effectively pulling his warmth into your space. He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours, taking time to breathe you in as your gaze locks with his. 

A breath is caught between you as you gaze into each other’s eyes, drinking each micro-expression on your face. Miguel lets out a soft sigh, "You're gorgeous."

And the intense mood breaks. 

You pull away to lightly giggle into his chest, a soft blush blooming from the edge of your neck to the tops of your cheeks. He matches your smile, watching with amused eyes as you react to his flattery.

Somehow he can still make you feel unbearably giddy despite the months you’ve been dating. 

You look back up with a crooked smile, “You’re pretty too, Spider-Man.” 

Miguel dips his head in and captures your lips in his. He’s gentle at first, slowly savoring your lips with small nips and caresses. He runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of your bottom lip, trailing a line over the sensitive skin, then pushing further against your mouth.

You whine when he licks into your mouth, coaxing your tongue to mingle with him, to taste your mixed flavor of lust.

Your back arches when he presses a finger flush against your throbbing clit. it simultaneously sends warm ecstasy down your legs and up your spine, and you can feel your center pulsing, craving more. 

Miguel leaves your mouth as he moves further up the couch to fit himself between your thighs. His forearms support his weight next to your shoulders as he gently lets his hips rest against yours. You can already feel his stiff cock twitching persistently between your bodies.

“Is this okay?” He asks, voice husky as he considers you under him.

Your eyes blearily blink up at him before you give him a shy nod, already looking thoroughly fucked out with your mussed hair and pink lips. He experimentally pushes down against you and starts to grind himself into your body with controlled strokes. 

The rough texture of his jeans digs deliciously into your softness, barely subdued by the thin fabric of your shorts. Pleasure zips up your spine as he involuntarily ruts against your clit with each shove of his hips. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to smother your cries into his skin.

“This what you wanted?” He growls, body hot and heavy against yours. 

You feel yourself grow infinitely wetter, warmth spreading over your inner thighs. You whine as he twitches against you, your body hypersensitive to everything around you.

“Mm, fuck.” He feels your slick slowly travel through the thickness of his jeans. 

He can barely hear your wrecked voice over the sound of his jeans rubbing over you and the couch rocking against the wooden floors.

“Wait.” 

His hips stutter to a stop, “Wait?” Miguel's eyes look worried as he searches your face, wondering if something went wrong.

“I-I just want more.” You bite your lip nervously as you stare back at him, feeling guilty that you scared him.

The tension in his body slacks quickly, like cool water rushing down his back. “More?”

You nod sheepishly, “Uh-huh.” 

He climbs off of you and kneels on the floor to your side, “Ok, can you show me?” His voice is soft and patient as he speaks to you.

He watches as you shove your hips upwards to tug off your shorts before throwing them to the side. You do the same with your tank top, then settle back into the couch cushions.

Your legs squeeze together as your sensitive nipples tighten when exposed to the cool air. You look over at Miguel who’s admiring your bare body next to you, “You too.” He immediately pulls off his shirt and shoves down his jeans before rejoining you. 

Miguel kneels on the couch and pushes your legs up to reveal your dripping pussy, leaking messily from your rutting session a few minutes ago. He slaps himself over your warmth, spreading your slick over your cunt and watching it drip down to your ass.

“Such a pretty pussy.”

Before you know what’s happening, he positions himself against your entrance and tries to push into your cunt, tip slowly slipping into you with ease. He groans as your cunt instinctively sucks him in, walls fluttering as he begins to stretch you. 

 “No–wait, that’s not what we’re doing!” You simultaneously scoot away and squeeze your legs together once you catch on to what’s happening. 

“What-”

“Outside, Mig, remember? Only outside.” You push up and lean against the couch arm, hair poofed adorably around you. “Here, I’ll show you. Lay down where I was.” You direct, moving off the couch to give him enough room.

“Okay.” He takes your place, cock bobbing with his movements as it stays desperately hard for you. You bite your lip as your eyes trace the happy trail that graces his lower stomach. God, he's delicious.

You straddle yourself over his hips, admiring how delectable he looks below you, hot and ready for you to climb on. He watches you with anticipation as you position yourself his erection that rests against his stomach. 

His breath hitches when you sit your full weight onto him, the pressure makes him throb against the seam of your cunt. You experimentally rub yourself against the silken skin of his cock, barely holding yourself up on your knees to make it easier to move. He groans as you spread your warmth over his cock and the bottom of his muscled torso. 

“So wet for me, baby.” He looks up at you with heavy eyes, his top lip barely covering his protruded fangs. His hand squeezes the top of your thigh when you lock eyes.

A small piece of your hair sways over his forehead with each movement of your hips. As you grind over him, the head of his cock nudges delectably against your clit causing you to clench around nothing every time it hits you.

You pathetically puff out breaths as your stomach tightens in heat, eyes already threatening to roll to the back of your head. Lewd wet sounds lick between your bodies as you fluidly slick yourself against him.

Your thighs shake as you get closer to the edge, hips slowing down as the white-hot pleasure ripples through your body. Miguel licks his lips and takes initiative, canting his hips upwards in sync with yours, slipping himself more firmly against you.

He pulls your arms off of his chest and gathers them behind your back. Your spine arches prettily for him, ass stuck out behind you. In this position, you’re forced to surrender yourself to every push of his hips and slip of his cock.

It’s electrifying. You cry out when your orgasm pulls you under its firey wave. Your thighs clench around his hips as your body trembles above him. The sparks refused to flicker off as Miguel continues to rut against you, body tenses as he meets his end as well.

He thrusts one final glide of his cock through the soaked petals of your cunt before abruptly pushing into you, overwhelming your senses with the painfully exquisite sensation of being stretched all at once.

He growls as your warmth wraps around him, fluttering prettily as he shoves himself deep inside.

He stutters inside of you, pushing himself incredibly deep inside of you as he cums and cums, filling you to the brim. A satisfying warmth pools at the bottom of your stomach as he paints your walls, soothing your weak body as it recovers from your orgasm.

You collapse onto Miguel's body, ignoring how unbearably hot it is as your bodies try to cool down. His heart beats heavily next to yours and everything slows down. He hums under you, gently stroking a hand against your back .

You don’t know how long you lay there, enjoying each other’s company, but you're half awake by the time Miguel gets up, with you, boneless, in his arms. 

“How does a bath sound, mi vida?” You lazily look up at him as he carries you to the bathroom with ease. His voice is still so...sultry.

“Am just I weak or something?” Your voice rasps harshly, “How are you not fighting the urge to pass out right now?”

He nuzzles his face into your body, pecking a kiss against your sweat-stick throat. “I could actually go again if you'd like..."