#i know i have some requests just my brain is mush right now

[themouthwashes]

I guess people like Buffnya- (I like her too)

[froggibus]

hiiiii :3 idk if ur taking reqs for dc right neow but a thought that tickles my brain rlly good is dick grayson/reader w a praise kink and dick exploits it n uses it to his advantage.... preferably afab reader but gn is fine :P

CTRL + H - Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem! best friend! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: when your best friend discovers porn in your browser history while fixing your computer, he decides to use it to his advantage

CW: friends to lovers, lots of praise, uses of ‘good/pretty/lovely girl’ dick calls you sweetheart/angel, dick is CORNY I’m sorry, mentions of porn/asmr porn, teasing, gaslighting (but not really), fingering, marking, unprotected sex, lots of sweat (its sexy i swear), dick fucks you over a desk, kinda rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, implied to be summer, i think thats it??

hey hi 👽 anon, thanks for the request! im sorry it took so long, it wasn't meant to be this long i swear, i just got caught up in the thought of Dick being all hot and sweaty and praising you while fucking you >~< and yeah this happened. really hope you like it (but if you don't, let me know and ill totally rewrite it!) lots of love yes i took an extra 30 mins to find nightwing #83 to take a picture of the comic book to make this banner lol

As if having Dick Grayson look at your search history wasn’t bad enough, now you have to live with the mortifying ordeal of him knowing you have a praise kink.  

When you had first invited him over to take a look at your malfunctioning computer, you’d thought nothing of it. You figured he would turn it on and off again, maybe update some drivers. So when he suddenly clicked into your browser and began scrolling through the long, long list of websites you’ve visited, you weren’t sure how to react. 

You noticed it at the same time as him, the glowing screen forcing you to freeze where you stand. There on the screen, from just last night, read: praise nsfw asmr. You swallow hard and lunge for the mouse to click out of your browser history, but breathe a sigh of relief when Dick does it first. 

There’s a beat of silence, your racing thoughts deafeningly loud as you try to come up with a reason to kick him out. Fanning your face as if that will help chase away the heat of the day, you swallow once more in an attempt to work some moisture back into your mouth. 

“F—find anything?” You say as casually as you can. 

It’s ridiculous how embarrassed you are, honestly. He’s just your friend, it’s just porn, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Still, the rattling of your heart against your rib cage and his cruelly quiet silence make it feel like it is. 

He shakes his head. “Not so far, I should keep looking but—“ he flicks his eyes up your body, perfect blues tracing your every curve, “you seemed flustered.”

You raise your hands in denial all too quickly, your sweaty palms stretched out towards him. Dick raises an eyebrow, examining you in the way he does with strangers in coffee shops. 

“I just…don’t see how my search history is relevant, I guess. That’s all.”

He grabs your wrists, lowering your arms from the defensive position they’ve taken. Despite the familiarity of his touch, something feels off, different in a way you can’t explain. You shake the thought away. 

The world has not shifted on its axis because your best friend suddenly knows what kind of porn you’re into. 

His touch lingers on your wrist and he uses the leverage to gently pull you closer to where he sits at your desk. When he finally drops your wrist, a chill circles the space where his hand once was, refreshing your feverish skin.

“I just want to make sure you haven’t accidentally picked up a virus somewhere. If we can find one in your history, it’ll be much easier to get rid of it.”

The explanation only half seeps into the mush your brain has turned into under his gaze and you find yourself nodding without quite understanding. 

You were fooling yourself by inviting him here. While asking for his help was cheaper than hiring a professional, having him so close to you almost hurts—especially when lately you’ve been trying to force away the feelings you’ve harboured for him. 

“So,” Dick says again, “won’t you be a good girl and let me fix your computer for you?”

His words force you out of your thoughts, purely by short circuiting your brain. You blink at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“W—what did you say?”

“I just asked if I could fix your computer now.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Did you mishear him, or did he call you ‘good girl’? He flashes you that signature smirk of his, his blue eyes suddenly dark with something you don’t recognize. 

Though everything on his face reads innocent, something not-so innocent lurks beneath the surface. Something that stares you down and screams ‘challenge me’. 

“Yeah.” You swallow. “I guess that’s fine.” You take a deep breath and try to steady the spinning in your head. 

Dick continues his work nonchalantly, hitting a few keys and opening your browser history once more. You turn your eyes away from the screen, instead focusing on the way your fingers grasp the desk until it hurts. 

You listen to him scroll for a while and try to pretend like he’s not looking through the most intimate part of your life. The idea of him seeing that part of you excites you as much as it nauseates you—a lethal combination. 

“You can relax.” Dick hums. 

You lift your head to look at him just to see him focused completely on the screen. You don’t dare glance at what he’s so focused on. 

“Why not sit down? This could take a while.” He says calmly. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you do.” 

You roll your shoulders. “I think I’ll just stand.”

There’s a shift in his eyes as if your words sparked something in them. He finally glances away from your screen, completely focusing on you with a newfound intensity. You want to shrink from his gaze, to run down the hall and hide in your broom closet, but you stay rooted in place. 

“It would help me a lot if you sit down. Don’t you want to be a good girl and help me out?” 

Holy fuck. “What did you just say?”

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity for him to speak again, your heart beating a mile a minute. He’s going to deny it, or make fun of you even more or worse—tell Wally about it. 

He pats his lap. “Come sit with me,” he purrs, “be a good girl, keep me company while I work.”

In your shock, you find yourself shuffling towards him and settling in his lap. Dick helps you adjust, tugging you back to his chest and keeping one arm around you while his other reaches for the mouse once more. 

He’s so close to you that you can feel the beating of his heart, his breath on your neck. You close your eyes and pray that he can’t feel the heartbeat that’s suddenly appeared between your legs.

You can’t remember a single time he’s been this close to you, a single time he’s touched you like this. The sudden proximity makes you dizzy, butterflies taking flight in your tummy. You clench the arm rests on either side in an attempt to keep your cool.

Dick shifts behind you, one of his thighs gently brushing your clit in a way that makes you squirm. “Don’t do that!” 

His hand slides from your waist to grip your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. “Don't do what? This?” He repeats the motion.

You squeak, lurching forward in an attempt to get away from the friction. You tilt too far and suddenly you’re falling head over heels towards the mat beneath your chair. Dick is quicker than that, wrapping one arm around your chest and another around your waist to tug you harshly back to him.

“Don’t do that,” you repeat breathlessly, “please.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, soft strands of black hair tickling your cheek. “Why not? Use your words, angel.”

The nickname reignites something inside of you, rekindling a fire between your legs. You clench them together in the hopes it will do something to muffle the throbbing, but when you feel Dick smirk against the side of your neck, you know you’ve failed.

When you don’t answer him, he grins his knee between your legs once more, an innocent hum prompting you.

“You’re—fuck, you’re kneeing me in the cunt.”

Dick’s not sure if it’s from your brazen words or how entirely ridiculous this whole afternoon has been, but suddenly he’s laughing. A big, open mouthed, creasing at the corners of his eyes, laugh. 

His laugh surprises you enough to summon one of your own, sending you both into a fit. You shift on his lap to look at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to support yourself while the two of you laugh. It’s stupid and ridiculous and you’re not quite sure what you’re laughing at—just that you are. 

You’re laughing and laughing and suddenly his lips are on yours and his eyes are closed and—fuck, he’s kissing you. And then you’re not laughing anymore, your hands brushing up his neck and tangling in his hair. He’s not laughing anymore either, his hands gripping your waist like he expects you to leave at any moment.

You’re breathless when you pull away, refusing to open your eyes and face the reality in front of you. Because maybe the world didn’t shift on its axis when he learned your porn preferences, but it definitely has because he just kissed you.

He taps your cheek gently, using that terribly calm voice he does whenever you start spiralling. “Y/n.” He coos, “open your eyes, y/n.”

You bite your lip, shaking your head in refusal. You know as soon as you do, you’ll have to confront your feelings for him, and his for you, and all of that is just too much and god, when did it get so hot in here? 

You open your eyes one at a time, casting them down to where your thighs rest on his. Your hands come together, fingers twirling in your lap just to give you something to focus on other than the throbbing in your clit and the weight of Dick’s eyes on you.

He drags a finger down your overheating cheeks, tracing the outline of your jaw and tipping your head up to face him. His blue eyes are lined with something new, something darker—a need you’ve never seen before. 

“Look at me.” There’s a commanding tone to his voice before it softens, “c’mon, please?”

You finally force yourself to meet his eyes, the familiar ultramarine calming the sudden bite of your nerves. “Only cause you asked so nicely,” you say quietly. 

“Good girl,” he smiles and it feels like the sun pushing through rain clouds. He strokes your cheek gently, his thumb landing on your cupid's bow. 

You shiver beneath his touch despite the unbearable heat of the day. While his finger on your lips threatens to send you flying away, spiralling into space, his other does the opposite. His grip on your hip is tight, fingers digging in and sure to leave behind bruises. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly. 

It’s only a small mercy that your nod doesn’t prompt another ‘good girl’ from him, or some other horribly delightful variation of it. However, when his lips brush yours and his hand slides to the base of your throat, all of the thoughts melt away. There’s no embarrassment, no overthinking, just raw emotion and the sensation of his skin on yours. 

You shift in his lap, sliding one of your thighs over his so you can straddle him. Dick offers a guiding hand while you slide forward, half steadying you, half tugging you closer. You shimmy up the length of his jeans until you’re as close as possible, your stomach pressing into his toned abs. 

A gasp leaves your throat when your clit brushes the very edge of the bulge in his jeans, the noise only edging him along. His teeth graze your bottom lip, both gentle and desperate, before his tongue slips into your mouth. 

The taste of him is intoxicating, consuming you until you’re grabbing his cheeks with both hands to pull him as close as possible. You whine when his cock grazes your clit again and Dick breaks the kiss to let out a breathy laugh against your lips. 

“Someone’s needy,” he teases, but his eyes are rimmed with dark and when he looks at you through his lashes, all you see is need. 

“Back at you.”

His palm sticks to your cheek with sweat when he goes to pull it away. “You’ve been so good for me today,” he hums, his other hand trailing up your thigh. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You mumble a breathy ‘please’ before his fingers are brushing your clit through your pants, the heat pooling in your panties near insatiable. You tighten your grip on him and bury your face in the tight black fabric of his t-shirt to muffle your heavy breathing.

While one hand rubs intense figure eights up the length of your pussy, his other hand is fiddling with the buttons of your pants. He sighs in triumph at the soft popping noise and then the fabric is pulling away from your skin, Dick somehow managing to tug them down with only one hand. 

You shift in his lap and prop yourself up on your knees to give him better access while he drags the fabric down your thighs. He takes advantage of your position to spin you to face your monitor once more, leaning back in the chair so you’re reclined against his muscled chest.

Warm breath fans the overheating skin of your neck just where your shirt meets your skin. Two calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, skimming the warmth and slick of your cunt. Dick sucks in a breath, his pants suddenly too tight.

“You really are needy,” he swallows hard. “Lovely, needy girl.”

His words only serve as a catalyst to the intense need you feel in your core, amplifying your desire tenfold. The pad of his index finger brushes your clit and you’re suddenly a goner. Your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, imagining the circles of Dick’s fingers in your mind.

He gently kisses at the neckline of your shirt, his lips soft against the sensitive skin. His tongue runs across the sensitive skin there in tandem with the moving of his hand, the duality sending shockwaves through you. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out his name.

His wrist slides further into your underwear, fingers moving away from your swollen clit to run along the rim of your aching pussy. You suck in a breath, not moving an inch while you anticipate what’s to come.

Dick sucks a dark mark into your neck. “Ready f’me?” He mumbles into your skin.

You eagerly nod, trying to shift your hips into his fingers and shove them inside of you, but Dick moves away. You frown, lazily looking over your shoulder at him.

“You have to use your words.”

You almost roll your eyes but in your desperation, let your head hang in defeat and open your trembling mouth. “I-I’m ready Dick,” you say, quietly adding, “please.”

“Good girl.” 

Then he’s suddenly slipping a finger inside of you, travelling the length of your spongy walls to sit deep inside of you. A gasp rips through you, his name tumbling off your lips faster than you can catch it. He grips your hip to steady you, strong fingers bruising the exposed skin.

He curls his finger inside of you, prodding at that sweet fucking sensitive spot. He only stops when you whine, slipping his finger out for only a second before shoving it back in. He repeats the motion, starting a rhythm of thrusting in and out, his hand on your hip tapping along in tandem.

You squirm in his lap, that ball in the centre of your stomach turning white hot and growing until you can barely contain it. One of your hands squeezes his wrist—whether to stop or encourage him, you don’t know.

“Dick,” you whine, your voice taking on a raspy tone you hardly recognize.

He hums in response. “Does that feel good?”

“S-so good.”

He rewards you by slipping his other finger inside of you, the two of them working in unison. His fingers are so long and thick that they reach places inside you that you’ve never been able to touch on your own, stretching your walls just enough to make your eyes roll back.

The impending waves of your orgasm roll over you, that knot in your core so tight that you know it's bound to undo any second. You squeeze his wrist tighter in warning, your fingers pressing into his veins until you can feel the steady thrum of his blood pulsing. 

Dick slips his hand from your waist up your shirt, palming your tit. “Cum for me,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it, sweetheart.”

His words walk you right over the edge, that knot finally coming undone and sending wave after wave of molten pleasure through you. Every muscle in your body contracts, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly it almost hurts. Both your hands clench around the wrist currently in your underwear. Holding him steady while you ride out your high on his fingers.

Dick holds you, keeping you stable while you gush and thrash wildly in his lap. He can feel your slick soak through the fabric of his jeans, his thighs warm with your juices, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

He trails kisses up your neck to your jaw, your cheeks and finally, tips your head back until he can plant soft, chaste kisses to your lips. His wrist aches from how hard you squeeze him but he doesn’t dare pull away until your muscles are relaxing and you let out your first, panting breath.

“Feel good?” He prompts.

You shake your head vigorously, all sweaty hair and hot skin and aching lungs. Dick almost wishes he had a camera because the sight of you laying in his lap all fucked out is one he would love to savor and put in his wallet.

He shifts behind you, only now remembering his aching cock and how badly it yearns to be free of the denim confining it. “Think you could do one more? For me? It would make me feel so, so good, sweetheart.”

You don’t think twice about his words, lazily trapping his lips in a sloppy needy kiss and mumbling ‘yes’ against him. In your fucked out state, you’re only half sure that you’re even speaking, the world around you fading. Dick slips his hand out of your panties, his palm soaked with your juices, and rests it on your thigh. 

“I need you to stand up for me,” he says, only half asking. 

He helps you up on shaky knees, your pants that had been resting just above your knees dropping the rest of the way to the floor. You brace yourself against the desk, half bent over while Dick slowly tugs down your panties. The minute the sticky, soaked fabric peels away from your pussy, you gasp.

Dick stares at the mess he’s made of you proudly, your folds glistening with the slick of your last orgasm. He burns the image into his mind while he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, standing behind you while he drags them to the floor with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and dripping with pre cum, begging for you.

He strokes it absentmindedly, all of his thoughts only on you and your trembling thighs, bent so perfectly over the desk waiting for him. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, rubbing it through your folds and prodding your clit before repeating the process over again.

Each shift of his cock, each rock of his hips, forces shivers of anticipation down your spine. Heavy breaths leave your lips, your arms barely managing to hold your weight over the desk when you dip your head down to stare at him through the crook of your arm.

“Such a pretty pussy. So wet and needy,” he groans when he finally lets his cock rest at your entrance. “So ready for my cock.”

You nod even though he’s mostly talking to himself. You let your arms sag against the desk and rest your face against your forearm, the sweaty skin sticking to your forehead. Dick thrusts forwards and lets the head of his cock push inside of you.

Moans leave him the second he dips into your heat, the tip of his cock stretching you in a way that has both of your eyes rolling back. His fingers resume their earlier position on your hip, digging in so hard it almost hurts. 

He stills once his tip is nestled in your walls, listening to the whiny breaths you let out while you adjust to his size. Your clench your hands into fists, slightly shifting from left to right to help him fit better. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but the way he molds your walls to his cock is almost enough to have you cum right then and there.

Dick is so distracted by the sight of his cock dipped inside of you that he doesn’t remember to move. It’s only when you let out a needy whine and shuffle your hips backwards that he realizes you’ve been waiting so patiently for him.

He snaps his hips against yours, the head of his cock barreling so deep inside of you so quickly that it almost hurts. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, “didn’t mean to make you wait.”

You try to tell him that it’s okay but you’re silenced with another hard thrust. You cry out his name into your arm, your teeth grazing at your skin in your attempt to be quiet. Dick grabs the other side of your waist, using his hands to push and pull you as he pleases.

You fall further against the desk, your body lazily resting against it while Dick’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, a chorus of your combined moans filling the empty space between thrusts. Each shift of his hips, each prod of his cock, only spurs you further along.

You squeeze your eyes shut, completely focused on his cock battering its way through your walls. You’re only vaguely aware of Dick talking to you, his praise sounding incoherent beneath the rush of blood to your ears. Your pussy flutters around him, his cock scraping your cervix with every thrust.

He thrusts particularly hard into you, his cock jamming hard into the very edge of your walls, forcing a loud cry from you. It aches as much as it pleases, and without thinking, you’re suddenly crawling forward across your desk. Dick tightens his grip on you before you can get very far, tugging you back hard against him and slamming your pussy down on his cock.

You nearly squeal from the pleasure, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. That familiar heat builds inside of you once more, spilling over more and more with each intense thrust.

“You’re taking me so well,” he coos. “So tight—god, it’s like your pussy was made for me. Fuck.”

His lewd words add to that growing knot inside of you and suddenly you’re coming undone in his arms. Everything is too hot, too much, too loud. Tears spill from your eyes and you’re barely aware of the half sobs, half moans you let out through your orgasm.

“That’s right, let it all out. Good girl, cumming around my cock like that.”

Dick holds you steady the whole time you cum, thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy sucks him in and tries to keep him inside of you forever. He’s almost as breathless as you while he watches you cum and the way your pussy seizes around him is enough to have him tumbling over the edge after you.

He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his, before he lets the both of you fall back into the chair behind him. Your new position forces his cock deeper inside of you—as deep as it can go—and then he’s cumming inside of you.

You can barely feel the hot ropes of cum he spills inside of you while you come down from your own high. Your thighs shake where they rest over his and you’re grateful for him holding you. 

Dick lets his forehead rest in the crook of your neck, his sweaty hair wetting your t-shirt. Even after he’s done cumming, he holds you tightly against him, the two of you panting in sync.

It’s nearly five minutes later when you can finally bring yourself to speak, your hoarse voice evidence of the pounding you’ve just taken. “I take it you saw my browsing history?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Dick laughs, his voice gravelly and deep and sexy. “Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I did.”

You awkwardly turn in his lap, twitching at the way it adjusts his half-hard cock inside of you. You look up at his eyes, the blue finally starting to seep back in through the dark. He cups your face, his hand sweaty, and pulls you in for another kiss.

When you pull away, you can’t help but ask, “so, what now?”

“First, I think I should show you how to use Incognito Mode.”

masterlist | dc masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog i get ^^

[minswriting]

Min!! Congrats on 900 followers! I love your work so so much, you inspire my work, you are so incredible and talented - I love you i love you i love youuuuu!!!

I have come with a dirty request. I would like season 3ish Spencer, being taught by reader how he should touch her since he’s not that experienced and then Spencer flusteredly being like ‘could you show me how you touched me last time so I can remember how to do it myself’ AAAA just like something about TEACHING that SOB that knows everything itches something deep and horny in my brain. Xoxo 🧸

AHHHH THIS IS SUCH A LATE RESPONSE IM SO SORRRYYYY however i love this request so of course i will write it. my apologies for being so slow with stuff lately guys. life be getting in the way 😔😔

nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader | fingering (f), squirting

your relationship with spencer was still relatively new. you guys had been dating for about a month or so and have only done a few sexual things to one another. he had watched you get yourself off before, taking in the movements of your fingers at the different parts of your cunt. and he desperately wanted to make you feel good too.

so, one night, after spencer had gotten home from a case, the two of you were sat on his couch, watching some old movie. and he just looks at you randomly and goes “can you teach me how to please you like you do yourself?”

it caught you off guard for a moment. you didn’t comprehend his words right away but the moment you did, you couldn’t help but smile. “is that what’s been on your pretty mind tonight?” you asked, looking at your boyfriend.

spencer simply pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding his head. “uh…yes?” he said, sounding unsure.

“of course i can teach you,” you exclaimed.

which led to the two of you on the couch as you sat in between spencer’s legs, back to his chest, with your pants and panties off. your legs were spread and you held spencer’s hand in yours. “firstly, you take your finger and you spread the wetness around.” you said softly, bringing his hand down to your pussy and guiding his pointer finger up and down your slit, spreading the wetness around. “it’s not a necessity but it helps just lubricate everything.”

“you’re so wet,” spencer whispered in awe as he gently moved his finger up and down you slit.

you let out a breathy laugh, nodding your head. “for you? always.” you replied. you then guided two of his fingers to your clit. “this, this is the-“

“the clitoris, a sensitive area located on top of the vulva. it’s a primary sensory organ of female sexual response,” spencer interrupted, going into factual mode for just a moment. without thinking about it, he began rubbing your clit gently.

you let out a soft moan, your eyes fluttering shut. it never failed to turn you on when spencer spewed random facts. it also very much helped that he was a quick learner because your brain always went to mush when your pussy was being played with. “y-you just keep doing that for a little while,” you stuttered, holding onto spencer’s arm as he rubbed your clit.

spencer didn’t say anything in response as he just looked at you from over your shoulder. tentatively, he leaned his head to your shoulder blade, kissing your skin gently. the action sent shivers down your spine as he began kissing towards your neck.

after a few minutes, you had decided that you needed to be filled, grabbing spencer’s hand and stopping his movements. “now, you’re going to insert a finger,” you brought his fingers to your hole, grabbing his middle finger. “this one,” you exclaimed. “you’re going to insert that finger inside,” you whispered.

“like this?” spencer asked as his digit slowly entered inside of you. your walls fluttered at the intrusion, clenching around his finger. “you’re so tight.”

“mhm,” you said before swallowing. “and now you gently thrust it in and out, slowly at first before adding a second finger. and if you curve your finger,” spencer did just that, causing you to jolt and let out a moan. “that is the g-spot.” you whimpered.

“so if i do this,” he began thrusting his finger in and out of you gently, making sure to make a “come here” motion with his finger inside of you. “it’ll feel good?”

you moaned, nodding your head. “very good,” you replied.

spencer simply moved his finger in and out of you at a slow pace, making sure to graze your sweet spot each time. he couldn’t help but press himself against you, his cock so hard from touching you. after a few minutes, he added a second finger, moving his fingers at the same pace.

“f-faster, please,” you whimpered.

and spencer complied. he began moving his fingers faster, hitting your spongy spot each time. “like this?” he asked hotly into your ear.

“just like that,” you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure. “oh my god.”

the room was filled with the sound of spencer’s fingers moving in and out of your pussy. the noise just getting wetter as his fingers began squelching. and without any warning, you squirted around his fingers, whining and moaning in his arms. “oh fuck,” you moaned out.

it didn’t take a genius to realize you had squirted for the first time. spencer smirked to himself, unable to help it. “that good, huh?” he asked a bit smugly as he continued finger fucking you so good.

you whined, nodding your head. “so good, spence, oh my god,” you replied. you could feel the heat tightening in your abdomen as your orgasm approached. “so close, so close.”

spencer let out a soft moan as he could feel his cock twitching in his pants from this whole scenario. he continued working his fingers inside of you, determined to make you cum.

and with a choked moan, you began cumming. you arched your back against spencer as your thighs clenched around his hand. you let out a high pitched moan, toes curling as you came. and spencer just watched it all as he fingered you through your orgasm.

without any warning, spencer shuttered as he came in his pants from the sight of you cumming on his fingers. “o-oh,” he moaned, ropes of cum painting his boxers and pants.

and when the both of you came down from your highs, spencer pulled out his fingers and the both of you breathed heavily, leaning back to relax. after a few minutes of silence, you spoke “i have never squirted before,” you said in disbelief.

spencer hummed, smiling goofily at you. “glad to be your first then.” he replied, kissing the back of your head.

“and i can’t believe you came in your pants.” you replied.

“oh shut up.” spencer exclaimed.

it was safe to say that fingering you quickly became spencer’s absolute favorite thing in the world.

[chrissdollie]

can you imagine bakugou having a gf whos a teacher?? think of him having a girl who teaches kindergarten :( when he sees u teaching a student ab counting apples or something, his mind is going to be flooded with thoughts of having children with you. just watching you being so gentle nd sweet with the little brats munchkins turns his brain into mush.

one day, he pays a visit to your classroom wearing his hero costume for a requested q&a. everybody's in awe just looking at him, even if they don't know who he is. the students whisper to their friends at small desks as bakugou's large figure just struts in loll.

you give him a tiny little peck when he walks inside, to which some kids snicker and "ooohh". you clap your hands together to grab their attention. "okay boys and girls, let's walk over to the magic carpet for circle time!" you announce, leading your boyfriend to the large rug where two chairs were set.

the kids sit crisscrossed in a circle excitedly waiting to talk to the number two hero. bakugou grows shy as he sits down somewhat awkwardly. he feels silly, speaking to crowds ten times bigger than this on a daily basis was nothing, so what's the big deal? "today we have a special guest joining us for circle time! does anyone know who he is?" you grin toothily as many hands go up. "yes, ryu?" you pick on an adorable little boy in the center of the carpet. "that's mr. dynamite from the news!" he yelled.

"that's right, ryu! but let's use our inside voices, please." you smiled. "does anyone know what mr. dynamite does?" you questioned again. one little girl was squirming in her seat, hand held high. "go ahead, kanako." you nodded to the girl who sat up straighter upon being called on.

"he saves people, l/n-sensei!"

"damn right i do." bakugou smirked pridefully. you lightly nudged his shoulder. "no cursing." you whispered. he rolled his eyes but listened nonetheless. "okay, starting from this side of the rug," you pointed to the left. "you can ask anything you want to the hero, as long as you are kind. and if you don't have a question just say 'pass' and we'll go straight to the next person." you announced. all the children nodded in unison.

"start us off, please." you handed the 'talking mic' to the first kid. "mr. dynamite sir, where are your blasters?" he curiously turned his head to the side. "huh?-" bakugou looked down at his hands. "my gauntlets? left those guys at work. they're too powerful to be here." he answered.

the punks students continued to ask their questions and bakugou replied calmly like this was an everyday event. "you're big." a boy stated. bakugou quirked a brow. that's all this brat had to say? "i know." he replied nonchalantly. "why?" the kid blinked, keeping a straight face.

"uh, why?? i dunno, kid. jus' the way i am." he shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. the kid folded his arms and moved to sit on his knees. "it's my turn now.." a quiet girl next to him tapped on his shoulder, reaching out for the mic. the boy stuck out his tongue at her before turning away to look at bakugou again. "thas' not a real answer."

"kenji, that wasn't kind. you had your turn, now please give the mic to haru." you frowned. haru's eyes turned glossy and her lip began to quiver, but kenji still wasn't letting up. "thas' not fair, sensei!" kenji whined.

"hold it, kid." bakugou stepped in. kenji's attention turned to bakugou, an angry pout written all over his face. "ya ask me sum dumb question," he began. oh gosh, a dumb question? he's not wrong, but he can't say that to a 5 year old! "katsuki." you muttered, trying to get him to stop. but he kept going anyway.

"but i answered it, right? y'r not being a team player to y'r classmate, buddy." bakugou finished, waiting to see what would happen next. the room fell silent. kenji had listened, handed the microphone to haru. he was still upset though, everyone could see it.

"one minute, haru. kenji," you called out. the boy looked up with fat tears in his eyes. "is there something you want to say to your friend?" kenji wiped his eyes with the back of sleeve and mumbled "sorry." to haru. "is okay." haru accepted happily with a toothy grin.

bakugou leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied with himself as the questions continued. huh, who knew right? you could get used to this.

when the period was over, bakugou waved goodbye to all the kids. however, he bent down in front of kenji and put his fist out. although the child was still somewhat annoyed, he couldn't hold in his grin as he fist bumped a pro hero. "let's all say 'thank you' to, mr. dynamite!" you stood up from your chair, folding your hands together.

"thank you, mr. dynamite!!"

bakugou kissed your cheek and walked to the door with you following behind. you opened the door and he adjusted his mask quickly. he ruffled your hair. "see ya at home, babe."

[3cremepie3]

PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS I NEED A JEALOUS LILIA VANROUGE BECAUSE HIS S/O WAS SEEN BEING HIT ON AND HE DRAGS HER INSIDE A ROOM AND FUCKS HER UNTIL HER BRAIN TURNS TO MUSH

"I think you have forgotten who you belong to. Let me remind you." He says as he thrusts into you at a rapidly fast rate, 1 orgasm blending into the other. He cums inside you, 1 time, 2 times, 5 times, 10 times... You lost count. His semen spills out as his dick touches your cervix, again and again and again.

"I'm not satisfied yet, so don't you dare faint on me."

AND THEN AFTER HE FINISHES, HE PLUGS YOU WITH HIS OWN DICK, LETTING HIS SEMEN STAY INSIDE YOU. NO ESCAPE. You feel so full...

He wraps his hands around you, touching your clit. And he got hard again. Another round, my dearest?

Again and again and again. You don't think you'll be able to walk for a week...

PLSPLSPLS WRITE EVERYTHING IN GREAT DETAIL AHHHH I LOVE BAT DAD SO MUCH I JUST NEED HIM TO FUCK ME SENSELESS, UNTIL ALL I CAN THINK OF IS HIM

Again?

Warnings - semi-public sex, unsafe sex, degradation, jealousy, mentions of breeding, overstimulation, jealousy. Lilia x female reader!

A/n - OOOOOOO thanks for all the details. I literally love Lila. And requesting solo fics is always the best bet! Sorry for the lateness I'm back from my tumble break!!

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“Wow.” You looked up at him starstruck. His hands moved his long locks to the side away from your face where it recently pooled. He quickly brought his hand back to its rightful place. On your wrist that his large hand was holding down.

It would stop you from squirming as his knee dug into your heat. Your uniform skirt was raised fully up but you were still fully clothed. Lilia was practically busting out his buttons since his uniform was made for smaller him. You would have taken your free hand to assist him but you had places to be. “Lil’s we gotta go back out he’s expecting us.”

Lilia laughed his voice having the hearty deep mellow that never failed to send chills up your spine. “He’ll get the hint eventually to leave once he hears us.” We cant just leave a guest it’s rude Lilia. You turned your head to the side not meeting his eyes in a pout. “It’s rude that he comes over to my dorm and flirts with my woman.”

“Well since I’m clearly not enough for you I have to use my true form to show you that I’m the only one that can you feel this good.” But-,” you went to protest but he cut you off with his fangs biting into your neck. “Oww,” you groaned. “Sorry baby I just have to reclaim you now.”

“You know I thought people would respect our relationship now that we went public and all.” He spoke in between removing his uniform. His knee vanished from his previous spot on your pussy. You twitched on nothing missing the spot to grind on. “But it seems as though they want you even more. I just can’t win or so it seems,” he trailed.

“There is one way.” Lila’s crimson eyes met yours and your body from fear taking over you. Lilia was fully naked and for the first time you saw the “real him”. His body looked as though he was sculpted by gods but some battles from war remained littered all over his muscles. His figure alone was intimidating like he could easily destroy you. It held so much confidence while you shivered like a small puppy.

He finally released both of your wrist. Your hands dropped to your sides then down to unbutton your skirt. “There we go my love I knew you wanted it,” he chuckled. You were scared knowing that Lila now couldn’t hold back on you in this new form. All those war stories of him battling ferocious beast and fae were clearly not lies.

You could tell just by the grip he held on your waist as he thrusted into you for the first time. You barely had any preparation for his large member. For a while it stung as his body crashed into yours and your hands gripped his wide back pulling him in impossibly closer.

“So tight around me and I only just got in? Fuck your perfect. He huffed and his hair fell from behind his ears. Your hands went to grip the long strands keeping them away from his face that you now studied. Lilia looked pretty much the same only with a stronger jaw.

But you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. It was like he put you in a trance. One that caused you to want his dick even after you came all over his cock leaving a silky white glaze over his shaft. You juices combined together as he came soon after you.

You didn’t mind the sticky mess that he brought back to your pussy with each thrust. In fact you pushed him to go further. “Deeper please Lilia.” Your request didn’t fall on death ears although he didn’t respond. You could tell Lila was planning something. He quickly shifted your position so that you were both laying on your side.

One of your legs was lifted which allowed him to hit into you deeper. Your back hit his chest melting into the hold he had on your body. “Like this new angle? You quickly nodded your head to focused on taking him to answer.

“Look how deep I am.” His hand ghosted over the visible buldge that formed in your stomach. “Only I can get this deep for you huh?” Your eyes rolled in the back of you head as he brushed against your cervix pushing his previous load deep into you.

You felt so sticky as your sweaty bodies collided. One of his hands ghosted over your clit that was once previously neglected causing you to cum yet again. “You must want it again with the way you’re gripping down on me,” he gritted through his teeth.

His fangs dug into your neck again for leverage as he came deep inside of you. His load began to spill onto the sheets below you as he emptied himself into to you again and again forming a pattern that caused your neck to be full of bite marks.

“Your pussy Is just begging for a new position huh? It’s can’t even keep in all my cum.” You were flipped on your back once again and your legs were brought to the sides of your head in a mating press. Lila watched his cum spill out of your oozing hole. He couldn’t help but to lick it tasting the both of you on his tounge.

You almost came at the sight of his slobbering over your already ruined pussy. But you held it together until he attacked your clit. His tounge flicked at it until you saw the stars and squirted all over his face. You wanted to say sorry but Lila was very happy with his accomplishment.

You however had came so many times that your orgasms started to blend. It wasn’t until after he made you cum a second time from eating you out that your body shot up. You hands pulled his hair trying to push his head off you. “Lila!” You felt as though you couldn’t breathe you hyperventilated as he brought another countless orgasm to you.

He stopped eating you out and this time he slapped his thick cock on your swollen pussy. “Come on don’t pass out on me now. We’re just getting started!”

[meangirls-imagines]

Hey I read your mean girls stuff and loved it! I thought I'd drop a request for regina x fem reader, where regina's pissed because she thought it would be a one and done but after being with reader Regina is ruined for anyone else and pissed because now she has to wife this girl before anyone else realizes how great she is.

Ruin Me

Description: Regina has the best sex of her life with Reader. She's ruined for anyone else and has to catch Reader in her grasp before someone else does.

WARNINGS: porn with some plot, blowjob on strap (r receiving), oral (regina receiving), strap on (regina receiving), squirting strap ons, creampie, slight breeding kink, praise kink

"Fuck, you look so pretty taking my fingers, Gina."

Regina's back arched as the fingers inside her hit the right spot. Her brain was a pile of mush. Words were not forming due to the immense pleasure she was feeling. This was only her second orgasm of the night and she knew she was in for a long one.

The girl in-between her legs sped up her fingers and gently began sucking on Regina's clit. The blonde had to bite back a scream. They were still at a party after all.

Y/N added a third finger as Regina gasped. "Fuck baby, your pussy is taking me so well." Regina clenched harder around Y/N's fingers, the girl smirking.

"Someone like that?" The blonde whined as the girl lightly licked her clit. Y/N smirked and curled her fingers, hitting that sweet spot. "Go ahead, Gina. I know you wanna come."

The blonde shattered. Little black dots blurred her vision for a few seconds as Y/N kissed her way up the blonde's body, allowing her to come down from her high.

"You did so good for me, Regina. You looked so beautiful, cumming for me." Y/N's lips gently pecked around Regina's face, slowly bringing her back to reality. "Fuck, Y/N. I've never came that hard in my life just from head."

Y/N smirked and kissed Regina's forehead. "Because boys don't know how to eat pussy." Regina blushed and leaned up tp kiss Y/N. Y/N groaned softly at the feeling of Regina's lips. The two kissed for a minute before Y/N pulled away and went to her dresser.

"I have a surprise baby." Regina perked up as the girl turned around, holding a strap on. Regina smiled and nodded. Y/N put the harness on and motioned Regina to the end of the bed. The blonde smirked, crawling so that her head was facing the end of the bed.

Y/N stood in front of the blonde, stroking her hair gently. "Let's see you put those cock sucking skills of yours to the test, yeah baby?" Regina felt heat shoot straight to her core. She wanted to please Y/N. She opened her mouth and began gently sucking on the tip.

Y/N groaned at the sight of Regina, swollen lips and messy hair, sucking her off. The blonde whimpered at the sound and took the toy deeper in her mouth. Y/N had gathered the blonde strands into a makeshift ponytail as she guided Regina's head up and down her cock.

Regina's pussy clenched around nothing as Y/N essentially began fucking her throat with the toy. The blonde loved how dominant Y/N was being, having not experienced it with anyone else. She was stern, but also soft with the blonde, checking in every now and then and making sure she was okay.

After a few minutes of Regina sucking her off, Y/N gently pulled the blonde up to her lips, meeting in a sloppy kiss. "You looked so pretty sucking my cock, princess. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?"

Regina nodded as Y/N guided her to lay on her back. She leaned down and kissed Regina softly, but passionately. The blonde melted into the kiss, threading her fingers in Y/N's hair. Y/N pulled away and whispered. "Are you good, baby? Need a break or anything?"

Regina shook her head and pecked Y/N's lips. "No. I need you to fuck me." Y/N's eyes darkened as she ran the silicone tip up and down Regina's cunt. "Well, then you're gonna love this, baby. There's a secret about this strap."

Regina looked confused and then gasped as Y/N slid the toy inside her. "It squirts." Y/N began thrusting in and out of the blonde at a steady pace. Regina couldn't do anything but take it. Now with the knowledge of the squirting strap, her fucked out brain took over.

She wanted Y/N to cum in her.

She wrapped her legs around the girl's hips as she sped up. Regina moaned quietly, trying not to scream. Y/N smirked at the girl's struggle and slowed her thrusts down and focused more on deeper strokes, the tip of the toy brushing against the blonde's g-spot.

Regina couldn't hold back anymore and began to release her moans. Y/N felt the blonde's nails scratch down her back. She ran her hand down Regina's body and began to rub the blonde's clit.

Regina choked on a moan as Y/N built her up to her orgasm. Y/N leaned down and began sucking on one of Regina's nipples. The girl felt her orgasm quickly closing in on her as she choked out a sentence.

"Can I cum?" Y/N smiled at the girl. "Such a good girl for asking baby. Of course you can." Regina screamed as her second orgasm washed over her. Y/N continued thrusting, whispering praise to the blonde. Regina grabbed Y/N's jaw as the girl continued to thrust.

"Baby, I want you to cum in me. I need you to cum in me. Fill me up."

Y/N reached down, squeezing the base of the cock, releasing the cum into Regina, reaching her own high in the process. The girls collapsed into each other on the bed, exhausted from their activities. Y/N groaned as she stood, removing the harness and grabbing some boxers and a t-shirt.

Regina didn't make a move to sit up, instead she just remained laying down, catching her breath. "Where are you going?" Y/N smiled. "I gotta go clear out my house. I'll be right back baby."

Regina blushed as Y/N walked out, clearing her home drunk and horny teens. Meanwhile, in her room, Regina got up tp get some clothes. As she browsed through Y/N's closet, she came across her track letterman, her last name stitched onto the back of the jacket.

Suddenly, an idea popped into Regina's head.

As much as she hated leaving Y/N on read until she got to school, she had to do it in order for her plan to work. She had left very early this morning, snagging the letterman jacket on her way out. Regina's outfit was definitely going to turn heads.

She was wearing a pink crop top underneath the letterman and black jeans. Regina topped the outfit off with her black Doc Martens. As she walked into the school, she noticed people immediately staring. She smirked as she saw girls glare at her as she strolled into the cafeteria, one person in mind.

Y/N had her back to her, frowning at her phone. Regina hadn't texted her since she left super early this morning and Y/N was kinda sad. Her teammate noticed Regina strutting towards them and nudged Y/N's foot under the table.

Y/N looked up confused as she turned to see what her teammate was looking at. Her jaw dropped at the blonde wearing a familiar jacket. Regina smirked at her reaction and reached her table, sitting herself down in Y/N's lap.

Before the girl could say anything, Regina connected their lips in a hot, passionate kiss. They could hear people gasping and cameras going off as they made out. Regina pulled away first, grabbing Y/N's face, forcing her to look at the blonde with darkened eyes.

"You're mine."

[mistyyyy]

Omg hiiii!

Uhhhh this is my first time requesting anything so sorry if I’m coming off too direct but idk any other way to do this. ✌️✌️

Can I request a pegging fic w/ Aizawa, where you’ve folded him in half are holding his legs down while his hands are bound. I’ve found little to no fics with a sub!aizawa, nonetheless fics that really hit the nail on the head for this mans character 😩😩😩.

Like- he’s trying not to give you a reaction.. but those strokes you’re giving him 🤭.

My boys having a really really tough time, twitching and shaking involuntarily. Biting his lip to try and muffle the sounds while he squirms for some sort of leverage but he can’t do anything because you’ve folded this man like paper. He’s trying to fight against the leather cuffs but to no avail. He would be wondering why tf he let you do this to him but he can’t think of anything other than you ramming that dildo up his ass- SORRY IM GONNA STOP NOW ✋✋✋ WHEWWWWWWWWWW

Resist.

Heyy….yall 👀 *clears throat.*

CW: Condescending reader, soft dom reader, pegging, bottom Aizawa, sub Aizawa, slight feminization, slight mean reader, forced edging, restraining

Words: 940

"Come on now baby you can take this dick..." You breathed out, warm breath fanning into his blushed ear as your strap slammed in and out of his hole. His moans were whiny and guttural, his breath and body strained as you forced his thighs against stomach. "M-mngh- fuck you..." he cursed out, pretty eyes squeezed shut as he tried to get a hold of reality, trying to ignore how good you made him felt. He was so stubborn, not wanting to fully submit even if you had him folded like this

You couldn't help but to grin down at him, the grip on his hairy thighs tightening. You found it amusing that he was suffering, that he was trying so hard not to enjoy the way you thrusted into him, the tip of your strap repeatedly thrusting into his prostate. "Cmon baby don't be like that... shit, you're dripping like a girl." You chuckled eyes peering down towards his throbbing red tip, pre cum drooling down to his toned belly, sliding down his angry shaft.

Your words only added more embarrassment to his situation, sun freckled skin flushing red, arms flexing behind his back as he wanted to so badly touch you, to place his hands underneath your ass to help you fuck him. His body twitched and arched, his lips red and swollen as he pulled them into his mouth to keep his nasty sounds at bay.

It didn't work of course. Not when you were fucking him like this, not when your nails dug into his muscles to hold his thighs in place, his ass and your hips angled just right. "Mmnhg-mmsofuckinclose," he whines, voice fast, throat raspy and raw from his muffled groans and grunts-rambles falling from his swollen lips, repeating how close he was to releasing.

Then you did something unexpected, a sharp gasp leaving his mouth-he almost choked and cough. Your hand left his thigh to grip onto the base of his dick, your grip tight, holding onto him like a vise. "Don't fucking cum yet, don't you dare... not until you admit it," you spoke, your hips slowing, letting him chase the orgasm he couldn't quite grasp.

This was fucking torture for the man, his face scrunching up from the uncomfortable feeling of his balls and stomach tightening from the edge, from how tight you were holding him. Why why whyyy did he let you do this? Why did he agree to let you play with him like this- why... his thoughts soon turned into mush though as he desperately wanted that high, to feel that fuzzy feeling in his brain when he came.

“P-please..” he gritted out, hoping if he begged you for release he wouldn’t have to admit how good it felt, how much he enjoyed being folded and manhandled like this. Little did he know this was more pathetic than him just admitting how good it felt.

You didn’t let him get a pass. As much as you loved to hear his rough pleases and begs to cum- you didn’t let him. So with a corrective slap on his thigh, your hips continued to move relentlessly, your hand fisting his cock tightly, not giving him a chance to forget his place. “Come on baby, you know what I want to hear. Tell me how good I make you feel, tell me how good your wife is fucking you,”

Your tone was cocky and condescending, a smirk on your face as you listened to his pained whines and whimpering, watching as his stomach caved in, his plump pecks vibrating with every thrust you gave him. He couldn’t even speak coherently anymore, his deep voice replaced with something more feminine and rough as he tried to explain how good you made him felt. “I-oh god-I- I can’t, please- you make me-“ he swallowed thickly, his voice a gasp as you kept hitting that spot, his balls throbbing and red as you restricted his base, “feelsogood,” he continued, eyes barely opened as they stared up at yours.

You felt a pang of satisfaction once he finally gave you what you wanted, a low hum leaving your throat. You could feel the way he throbbed and pulsated in your palm, his body reacting to your noises, your voice, your movements. When you finally released his shaft his mind couldn’t even keep up with the way his body reacted, how fast his orgasm came, how hot and twitchy his body felt as a white heat filled his body.

You watch as his heavy load squirted and shot onto his stomach, his chest, how it lazily dripped down his red cock until it dropped near his navel. “Mm~ good job baby… you look so good like this.” You praised your husband, your sloppy thrusting slowly down into a lazily hump as you let him ride through his orgasm.

His tanned lined body stained red, his abdomen covered in his sweat and arousal, black hair sprawled on y’all’s mattress like a dark halo. He huffed out air as he slowly caught his breath, his body felt like jello and his thighs twitched against his body as he felt your gently thumbs draw circles on the inside of his muscles. “Fuck… where’d you learn that…” he asked, voice raspy and tired as his eyes came to a close.

You chuckled, a cocky grin on your face as you continued to stare down at his fucked state. “Twitter.”

[bb-eilish]

Foreplay

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pairing; Anakin x fem!reader

a/n: I'm taking requests rn, the more gross and taboo the better pls!!

not proofread, directly from my brain to the internet

--

It was odd honestly. You've been dreaming of your sex life for forever now and it's actually started, though it was after you started your 20's. You couldn't really complain though, you couldn't really say a whole lot at all when Anakin's cock was usually lodged down your throat or buried as deep as possible inside you.

It was like fire between you, liquid fire that threatened to burn and never slow. The sex was great, obviously, but it was what was leading up to sex that swung you off your feet.

"My love? I'm finally back from the dealership. Almost had to sleep there". You hear down the hall, you were stuffed in your bedroom at the moment and Anakin had just gotten to your apartment. The smile that washed over your face wasn't even voluntary at this point, it was muscle memory. His large steps get closer until he's peaking inside the room, his gaze landing on your back as you sift through your dresser looking for something to sleep in.

"Took you long enough, you only left five hours ago". You chuckle, peering over your shoulder as he steps closer. So close that he wraps his arms around your middle; nestling his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm glad you're back, was worried I was gonna have to go to bed without you". Even with his face mushed into your skin he scoffs. "I'd run home before that could even happen, don't you worry, Pretty. Are you getting ready for bed?" He asks, unwrapping himself from you to search through the few drawers he's claimed in your dresser.

You open your mouth to answer but the words hiccup in your throat as he casually takes off his shirt. You've seen him naked a bunch now, but you'd never get used to such a sight. "Yeah...yeah I am, just gotta get undressed".

Anakin's eyebrow quirks at the small but very telling reaction. So he waits for you to find a shirt, your fingers hooking into the material you're wearing with the intent to pull it off, but instead you cast over a glance to confirm whether he's watching or not.

He is.

And it causes your skin to burn the second you meet his gaze, especially when that damned smirk ever so slightly pulls at the corner of his plump lips.

"What?" You ask softly, your stomach doing flips in your body.

"Keep going, we're going to bed aren't we?" The reply is teasing and you can feel your face heating effectively.

"I will.." You let out a nervous laugh, slightly lifting the material more to show him you plan on taking it off.

"Do it, or do you need some help?" He begins, taking a step closer. "Wouldn't mind helping my baby, y'know? Taking this off..." The air in the room feels like it's been heated up and yet sucked out at the same time. His fingers pluck your tank top's strap and pulls it, letting it snap against your skin.

"You're gonna let me help you right? Been thinking of you all day--these all day". Large, warm hands grope you over your bra and shirt, yet it feels as though there's no barriers at all. You let out a shaky breath and nod, gripping the edge of the dresser behind you.

"Words, Pretty, you know that". He scolds lightly.

"Yes...please, missed you". The breathy admission has a lusty smile etching its way across his face and he doesn't wait another second before he's pulling off the thin layer of your shirt; eyeing the exposed skin and the way your bra is decorated with the sinful sight of your cleavage.

"There we go, gotta take this off too, don't I? Pretty girl always needs my help, doesn't she?" He mumbles, his hands sprawl across your sides, goosebumps prickling over the affected area. He drifts his hands to your back, moving up to your bra clasp and removing it with practiced ease.

A shiver runs down your back, from the cool air and from the way he bites his lip the second he gets an eyeful of your breasts. A groan bubbles at the back of his throat and he's quick to press you into the dresser, his hands scrambling to scoop up your half naked figure and hoist you onto the flat surface. He's almost eye level with your nipples and it causes his pants to tighten significantly.

"So pretty, baby, such pretty fuckin' tits you have". A second later he's leaning forward and sloppily kissing your collarbone, his tongue pokig out at certain times.

His lips move lower and he drags his moist bottom lip down the valley between your breasts. The action has your heart stuttering and a gush of liquid to wet a spot on your panties.

"Anakin". You whimper softly, moving your hands to glide and explore his arms and torso.

"I know, baby, know you need me". He decides to stop teasing and to finally kiss in circles around your left nipple, soon taking it into his mouth and moaning like it was his favorite meal. Your mouth falls open and your hand grips the curls that rest at the back of his head. The way his tongue switches between harsh licks and gentle swirls has your mind becoming hazy and numb, Anakin prefers you like this. Needy, debauched, only thing on your mind being him and his cock.

A gasp and a choked moan leave you suddenly when he meanly bites down on your sensitive bud. The pain tingles into pleasure and you're squirming, the ache in between your thighs beginning to become a problem.

"Anakin, fuck, I need more, gotta give me more, please". You beg, the words a tad slurred as you dig your nails into his scalp and the skin of his sun-kissed shoulder.

He pulls away, his lips wet as he flicks his gaze to yours. "Poor baby, is your pussy already wet? Just from me playing with your tits? God, baby, you're such a pathetic little thing, hm? Can't even touch you without you wanting more". His words are meant to fully push you over the edge, meant to make thinking even harder.

You whine in response, dragging him closer. He offers a chuckle and a quick glance before he's digging his fingers under your pajama pants and dragging them down and off. He then pushes your legs apart, the grip of your thigh firm. Your bottom lip is trapped under your teeth as you take in his reaction, clenching around nothing at it.

"Tsk tsk, I knew it. Bet you're thinking of all the things I could do to you right now. Like.." He starts, his hand drifting to the wet patch on your panties and pressing into it. Your posture slumps further and you breathe heavy. "I could finger you first, press into that little hole of yours, maybe get you to squirt a couple times before I get my mouth on your clit".

He rips his gaze from where he thumbs your clit lightly, the action becoming harder as seconds pass.

"You always sound so pretty when I eat your pretty pussy. Or are you thinking about what I'll do when I finally fuck you? When I finally get my cock out and fill you up again? Could take you like this". He says, emphasizing his point by pulling you to the edge and letting you feel how hard he's become with a roll of his hips into yours. You whine but he keeps going.

"Or I could bend you over it, pull your hair". One of his hands moves up to grip the strands of your hair, a fist full as he pulls your head back. His tongue wets his lips before he sloppily plants wet kisses upon the column of your throat, soon moving to your ear and brushing over the skin of it.

A shiver wracks your body before he speaks again, his voice low and thick with lust as he almost whispers into your ear.

"Tell you how dirty, pathetic, disgusting, you are for enjoying my cock so much". He unfortunately pulls away a second later, an inch away from your face now, his hands back on your thighs.

"So, what'll it be, Pretty?"

[thequeenofcupps]

Bottom!hazard x fem!reader

SMUT!!!

DONT OPEN THIS IN PUBLIC!!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

A/n: DUDE I HADDD TO START WORKING ON THIS AS SOON AS I GOT THIS REQUEST but fair warning it is 2 am for me rn so it might come out like tomorrow or today I’m not sure BUT STILL, also this might be ooc hazard too but I really don’t care cuz hazards a hottie 😋 also I’m probably a little mean to him but it’s just cuz I love him <3

Also @cogdat requested this!

⚠︎ Ok so everyone knows he’s like a scary looking guy but when he’s with you that just completely vanishes, like he’s trembling under your touch because 1 he hasn’t had a lot of chances with woman because he “didn’t have time to settle” and 2 you’re the first person that isn’t him to touch him

Like yeah he’s masterbaited loads of times but he’s never actually slept with someone so basically he was a virgin before he met you and he was extremely embarrassed that he was a 24 yr old virgin

⚠︎ You like overstimulating him or you overstimulate him on accident, Like he’s full on crying cuz he just feels so fucking good and he’s whimpering gibberish cuz his stupid brains a pile of mush

⚠︎ He’s like a goddamn dog in heat whenever he’s horny like if you’re doing something he like comes up from behind you and is practically fucking humping you and kissing your neck and whispering about how much he wants to touch you

⚠︎ He has a love/hate relationship with teasing, like he loves it when he does it to you but when you do it him he’s an extremely flustered man, like after him and the phreaks get back from a successful mission he has so much pent up energy and he needs you really bad but you’re not having any of it so you’ll just coo fun at him for being so whiny while you palm his hard on through his pants while he tries his hardest not to cum right then and there

⚠︎ If he makes you mad like for example missing a date you had planned for months, not listening to you whilst you’re trying to tell him something important You punish him hella hard, like if y’all are getting freaky you remember that he’d pissed you off a while ago so now you’re just rejecting him pleasure of cumming, like he’d have tears streaming down his face begging you for release but you’re just like “nah I’m good”

⚠︎ You own a strap just for him with<3

But that’s only for special occasions

Like if he had a successful mission, won a fight, won some stupid ass contest at the bar

Or if he’s to exhausted from his last mission he’ll let you pull out the strap 9000

He actually really likes the strap but he’ll never let you possess that info to him

⚠︎ I read a Drabble about him never shutting up and I wanted to include that in this fic

He’s so loud and talkative you HAVE to put his mouth to good use because you’re just tired of hearing him talk on and on and on you just need him to shut up

⚠︎ Please do praise him, he loves hearing you praise him for being such a good boy and taking it so well <3

⚠︎ Also aftercare is like heaven for the both of you like you’re getting up and getting some stuff for him cuz he’s too fucked out and is still in space so please help him with aftercare, his favorite part about aftercare with you is the nice warm lavender smelling bath you prepared just for the both of you while he comes down from his high <3

⚠︎ Also he’s a huge hand bucker, if he lets you jerk him off he’s trying so hard to not buck cuz if u do u gotta stop and he doesn’t like that 3:

⚠︎ His fucked out face looks like this: ( ˶꩜ ꕀ ꩜˶;)

A/n: I hope I did ok with this it’s really late and I’m tired asf and my brain isn’t working anymore 😭

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Sex on the Beach

Pairing(s): Shawn Mendes x male reader

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: bottom male reader, top Shawn Mendes, Shawn fucks like a feral animal, spanking, some dirty talk, ass eating, and beach sex 

Summary: You and Shawn have steamy sex at a private beach. 

Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! I’m not dead! I just lose motivation quickly. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this!

XxXxXxX

You sigh in comfort, laying down on your stomach as you feel the sun beam down upon half of your body, the other half underneath the shade of an umbrella, and the wind cooling your body as you lay on the soft blanket that covers the hot sand. You could hear seagulls squawking in the background. 

Those creatures are most likely fighting over food. 

Loud ocean waves crash against the nearby rock formations, and the gentle waves crash against the beach sand. 

It was an amazing day to go to the beach. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your boyfriend coming close. “M/n!” 

You turn your head to the right as you see Shawn wearing nothing but his swimming shorts. You couldn’t help but admire his body. 

His lean-muscular body had some hair around his pecs and abs. His body glowed in the sunlight. He looked like he came out of a beach scene from a romance movie. You unconsciously licked your lips. 

“You like what you see?” Shawn said as he noticed your long stare. Your face turned red as Shawn chuckled before taking his place next to you. 

“You know, you need sunscreen to protect yourself from the sun! Here, let me help you.” Shawn said, pulling out the cream from the container near the umbrella. 

Shawn squirted some before getting behind you. You could feel his hands and long fingers massaging the cream over your back. 

You moan as Shawn continues massaging the cream, but that changes as you feel Shawn press his crotch against your ass. Smirking deviously, you begin to grind against his crotch. Feeling his cock getting hard.

Shawn freezes as he feels your bubble butt. He growls as his hands move down and grab your ass and knead it like it was dough. You whimpered but continued to tease him. 

“So, you wanna tease me with his fat ass?” Shawn pulls your shorts and begins to slap your ass. He smirks at the recoil and the red hand marks. You moan loudly as Shawn continues his attacks on your ass. 

Suddenly, you felt your lower half pulled up, your ass now in front of Shawn’s mouth. Shawn was salivating at the sight and dived into the canyon. You gripped the blanket tightly as Shawn’s tongue penetrated your hole.

Shawn ravaged your ass like a wild animal. Spreading your asscheeks apart and slapping them. One of his hands slowly begins to stroke your aching cock, already leaking pre-cum from the head. 

Your mind was getting foggy and it felt like your brain was turning into mush as Shawn continued to stroke your cock and eat your ass. Then, Shawn heard a loud moan when his tongue hit a certain part inside you.

‘So, that’s his prostate?’ With the new knowledge, Shawn repeatedly assaulted your prostate. Soon, you were a moaning mess as your cock throbbed in pain, needing a release. Shawn could sense you were close and began to stroke faster.

“Ahh⁓” You moan as your cock throbbed before shooting it load all over Shawn’s hand and the blanket. You were allowed to calm down for a moment before Shawn flipped you over onto your backside. 

Shawn pulled down his shorts along with his striped boxers to reveal his throbbing cock. You were mentally drooling at the sight of the thing.

His cock looked to be 6 inches (15.52cm) with some thickness as well. A prominent vein running down the center along smaller ones, nicely trimmed pubic hair, and nice egg size melons. (Melons - balls.)

“See what you do to me, baby?” He then proceeds to slap his cock against your already hard one. Shawn positions himself right in the middle, putting both of your legs to the side of his waist. 

“Are you ready for me, baby?” Shawn says, aiming his cock to your entrance. You nodded your head. Shawn slowly pushed his cock inside you. His eyes and head rolled back in pleasure as your tight heat swallowed him whole. 

“Shawny⁓” you moaned, gripping the blanket harder and arching your back. You slowly pushed back until swallowing his entire cock. Biting your lips, feeling the large cock throbbing inside. 

“F-fuck…” His nails dug into your hips as he could feel your ass clenching around him. Shawn leaned down to your neck, leaving kisses and hickies. “Fuck me like an animal.” you whispered into his ear. 

Shawn growls before pulling back, leaving only the head, then gives one big thrust. You moaned at the top of your lungs as if all the oxygen was knocked out. Shawn kept repeating the action, his cock always hitting your prostate. 

Your brain was turning into mush, the surrounding area becoming blurry. The constant abuse of your prostate was sending so many signals through your nerve system as if it was about to go into overdrive. 

It felt like you two were the only ones there, it was a private beach so of course you’re gonna be the only ones. You could hear both loud moans and groans along with the wet squelching sound of Shawn pounding your ass like an animal in heat, and skin slapping skin.

Both of your orgasms were close as Shawn thrust harder into you. You could see a small stomach bulge appearing. “I-I’m… close…” Shawn said, pulling and bringing your whole body closer to him.

“Me too!” wrapping your arms around Shawn’s neck. After a few more aggressive thrusts, Shawn gave one final thrust, flooding your insides with white. Cock throbbing inside your tight heat, kept spurting more. 

You also came to an orgasm, your cock spurting load after load onto Shawn’s abdomen, balls tightening and throbbing. 

“We should do this more often.”

THE END

A/N: It's been so long since I’ve written smut! I hope this fic was good! Bye, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

[azrielslightintheshadows]

I've got you.

Azriel x f!Reader

Request; Right now I'm kinda going mad because of uni and I came up with this idea of the reader that is like studying something to help the inner circle, but she can't find anything (or whatever came up to your mind love) and Az, her mate, try to reassure her with cuddle/kisses and lot of fluff.

Warnings; Mentions of potential death, reader feels useless

Masterlist.

Hope this is what you had in mind love <3

The words on the tenth book you were currently reading seemed like foreign symbols, your brain had turned into a mush and you groaned as you massaged your temples. Nesta’s powers disappeared when she saved Feyre from death and everyone worried that it might have an impact on her health, thus you were searching every book you could find. Rhys and Feyre wanted to help but they were preoccupied by Nyx and everyone else made sure they were safe and handled the matters of the court.  

“Come on, you can finish the book” you whispered to yourself and flinched when a deep chuckle sounded from behind you. 

“You should take a break angel” your mate’s velvety voice filled your ears and you smiled softly. He moved closer and placed those beautiful scarred hands on your shoulders massaging them. 

“I can’t stop now, I haven’t found anything and we don’t know how much time we have if it actually messes with Nesta’s health” you said and your bottom lip trembled. Nesta managed to become one of your dearest friends and just the thought of something happening to her made you want to rip your hair off. The fact that you couldn’t find something to help her broke your heart in million pieces. 

“Calm down angel, we don’t know if she is in trouble for sure, maybe that’s why you can’t find anything” he said softly and pulled your chair back, he marked the page of the book and picked you up. 

“Everything’s going to be alright” he murmured in your hair and sat on the armchair next to the big window of the study. 

“I’ve read ten books and I can’t find anything. I feel so useless right now” you confessed and hid your face in his neck. 

“You’re not useless baby, you are the only one who’s trying to find something about the situation.” He paused for a second “I think that this makes everyone else useless.” 

You shook your head with a smile “don’t say that, you’re all busy” 

“We are but that doesn’t change that you are researching without any help. Give yourself some credit and take some time to relax before you burn your sneaky brain”  he pinched your side and you gasped. 

“Stop” you whined and hugged him harder making him chuckle and kiss the top of your head. Two cups of tea appeared on the coffee table next to you and Azriel hummed, he picked one and pinched your side again to make you look. 

“I’ll return to my book if you keep this up” you feigned an annoyed expression and he smirked.

“No you will do no such thing, this is Azriel time and I’m not sharing” he scolded. 

You took the cup from him and leaned back on his chest, peeking at the view outside and enjoying his warmth. Azriel was staring outside while his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back. 

After a while you sighed and looked at him 

“I have to continue…” you trailed off with a sad smile. 

“Let me help you” he smiled and carried you to the table. 

You spent the rest of the day checking every book, even Azriel’s shadows started flipping through books.

“They can read?” You asked.

“I don’t even know anymore, they surprise me every day” he shrugged.

You kept huffing and puffing, moving from one book to another trying to make some sense but nothing. Azriel looked frustrated too and even his shadows slithered back to him looking defeated. Your eyelids started dropping and you blinked, you couldn’t stop now. You picked another book and started reading. 

You felt something cold touching your back and you hissed.

“Shh it’s okay I’ve got you” Azriel whispered, you opened your eyes and realized that he had carried you to bed. He stripped his clothes and lied next to you, pulling you on his chest and letting a sigh. 

“Get some sleep angel, tomorrow we will continue the research together” he murmured and kissed your head. 

The next day you managed to find a book with a similar story, thankfully the fae who gave away his powers survived and you both cheered and walked hand in hand to the dining room to inform everyone. 

Just before you entered the dining room you glanced at Azriel with a lovesick smile 

“What would I do without you”

Hope you enjoyed it!

@hauntedwitch04

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: the mysterious blonde (PART 1)

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you are gigi’s best friend and you go over to her house to work on a school project, only to meet her mysterious brother who popped up a couple of months ago and turns out he’s just your type

parts: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

warnings: it’s long

a/n: actually forgive me because this story is so long, don’t ask me why I got too carried away. there are two more parts as well if you make it through this and actually end up enjoying it. thank you for reading, requests are always open xx

tag list: there is no tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)

Gigi and I trudge out of double history, so exhausted we look like we’re about to flop onto the floor. I actually think we might.

“That was the longest few hours of my life,” she says to me, her wide eyes almost look sad.

“Literally,” I groan, “why didn’t time seem to move?”

“I don’t know but my brain feels like mush,” she replied, rubbing her temples.

“I can second that,” I sigh.

“And all that homework she gave us! What was all that about?” my best friend exclaims, probably the closest to anger I’ll ever see her.

“I don’t even want to know,” I roll my eyes, “this subject is killing me, why did we even take history?”

“Because we have to,” she deadpans.

I groan aloud again, “this is so stupid.”

“You know saying it’s stupid is not going to change our position,” she tells me, putting an arm around my shoulder.

“I know, I know, but it feels good,” I explain.

“Yeah it does,” Gigi agrees, coming to a sudden halt before yelling , “this is stupid!”

The sound of her voice bounced off of the walls of the now lonely corridor that had been deserted at lunch hour. We continue walking.

“See?” I say, folding my arms across my chest, “feels good does it?”

“Better than peanut butter and jelly cookies,” she says, then pauses, “wait maybe not…”

I wrinkled my nose, “peanut butter and jelly cookies? That’s a low standard, literally anything is better.”

Gigi stops in her tracks, causing me to almost fall over. She stares at me, her face a mix of shock, horror and disbelief as she says, “You’re kidding me, right?”

I stare at her and cautiously answer, “…no?”

“Why are we even friends?” she asks.

The question takes me so off guard that I don’t get time to process it properly before I answer, “What?”

“You don’t like peanut butter and jelly cookies,” she states, “so why are we even friends?”

“Oh my gosh you’re going to disown me as a friend because I don’t like a cookie,” I ask flatly.

“It’s not just a cookie,” she says, a dangerously threatening glint in her eyes that I wasn’t familiar, “take that back. Right now.”

I hold my hands up in mock surrender, “I apologise to you and your love for peanut butter and jelly cookies.”

“Okay,” she smiles as we begin to walk again, “friendship sorted.”

I scoff and shake my head, not helping the smile on my face. We walk to the canteen together and grab our food. We don’t have the energy or effort to carry on conversation seen a history had sucked us dry of any joy or potential excitement to talk. We grab our food and sit where we always do in the summertime. Outside there’s a small wall tucked away. We climb up it as usual and each our lunch there, it’s much more peaceful than dealing with everyone else. Gigi looks as if she’s very fixated on the football game occurring on the field so I let my mind wander. I chew thoughtfully on some dry school bread, brainstorming ideas for the history project we’d just been set. It was only then I notice the absence Gigi’s sister.

“Where’s Savannah?” I suddenly ask.

“Oh I forgot, she’s playing at basketball tournament today,” Gigi replies, a cheerful undertone in her voice.

“That’s amazing,” I say, my eyes wide, “I hope she does well.”

“She will,” Gigi shrugs, “she always does.”

I smile, admiring Gigi’s purest and truest of faith for her sister. Savannah had always been super talented at basketball, on every team and the best one there. Me and Gigi would often go and watch her games, cheering annoyingly loudly from the side lines earning us both dirty looks from the pair of piercing grey eyes that belonged to Savannah. Though we all knew deep down she secretly loved the crazy support even if it did drive her up the wall.

“Hey wanna work on the project at mine later,” Gigi asks suddenly.

“Yeah sure,” I shrug, “I’ve got some of the stuff at my house, I’ll dash home get ready and bring them after school.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she nods, smiling from ear to ear.

“Great,” I smile back.

“Oh by the way, my brother will be there,” she adds quickly, testing the water to see if it might alter my decision.

“What the mystery one that popped out of nowhere that everyone calls the male version of Savannah?” I ask.

Gigi had told me about her mystery brother. When she went M.I.A for a whole week I had panicked like crazy. And that girl cannot lie to save her life. She explained all the happenings to me and I didn’t say a word to anyone. Though I’d never met the infamous Grayson Hawthorne. I didn’t even know he really existed before Gigi told me about him. Of course, I’d hear the name in passing due to the inheritance of a certain seventeen year old girl but other than that I never really knew who he was before Gigi.

“That would be the one,” she grins, swinging her legs up and down, “he always comes for dinner on Wednesdays.”

“Oh,” I say quickly, “don’t want to intrude on family stuff.”

Gigi and Savannah were close and they were close with their mother as well. I didn’t want to get in the way of spending time with their new found brother. Gigi had only ever told me good things about him but Savannah never talked of it much. She avoids the topic like the plague so I never asked. Secretly I think she really loves him.

“Oh no he won’t mind,” Gigi shrugs.

“Are you sure Gigi because-“

“Y/N I’m sure,” she says seriously putting her hands on my shoulders.

I nod and the bell goes off. I sigh, just have to get through the afternoon now.

***

As soon as school is over, I rush home and jump in the shower, flinging on the first clothes I find in my drawer. I fill a tote bag with bits and bobs we might need as well as some chocolate covered pretzels because Gigi goes feral for them. I leave my house, and just as I’m locking the door I get a text. My eyes flick to my phone, Gigi has sent a cat meme, of course. I open it to find a little tabby cat staring at me with its tongue stuck out with the text attached reading ‘where are you??’. I giggle and shake my head and drop a quick text back to tell her I’m on the way.

***

After a few buses and too much power walking for one girl, I arrive at the door breathless. I make a mental note that I need to workout more. I give the door a quick knock and wait awkwardly outside.

It swings open within a few minutes revealing a grinning Gigi, “Y/N!”

“Hey Gigi,” I say, giving her a quick hug as we step in.

“It’s like you guys haven’t been together all day,” comes another voice.

My head whips around to see familiar grey eyes and two blonde braids.

“Savannah!” I exclaim, rushing towards her and pulling her into an embrace

“Hey,” she laughs, hugging me back.

“How was your tournament?” I ask her.

“We won,” she shrugs as if it’s nothing, though it probably was to her.

“Of course,” I say, tilting my head, “sorry we couldn’t be there.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” she replies, “besides it was nice not having two maniacs howling your name.”

I turn to Gigi, “I think she just admitted she missed us.”

“She did, didn’t she?”

“Whatever helps you guys sleep at night,” Savannah says coolly, “heard about your history project, good luck, I’m glad it’s you and not me,”

“Thanks Sav,” I say sarcastically.

“You are so welcome Y/N,” she grins, ruffling my hair.

“And this is Grayson, my mysterious brother who pretends to be moody all of the time,” Gigi explains, gesturing to a boy.

Well I should say a man because holy mother of all saints and lords… he had the most gorgeous face I’ve ever laid eyes on. He was the pinnacle of perfection and so radiantly beautiful. He practically glowed. His hair was golden like some sort of buried treasure that glistened in the right lighting. He was tall and muscular, that was obvious even through his suit. A pretty face and a fit physique, it was a win win. I hadn’t even noticed he’d been standing there cautiously watching my interactions with his sisters. When our eyes met my legs almost buckled. They were a stormy grey that left me senseless. My heart thumped in my chest and butterflies flew up my stomach every which way. I could see his resemblance with Savannah but there were so many differences that made him… him.

“Hi,” I smile, trying not to blush or sound stupid, dismally failing at both and mentally ticking this off as one of my top ten most embarrassing moments of my whole life entire life.

“Hello Y/N,” he replies, not exactly smiling but not straight faced, somewhere in between, “I can assure you I do not pretend to be moody all of the time no matter what my sister has told you.”

His voice is so mellow it could melt butter with one sound.

“He does,” Gigi whispers loudly enough for him to hear

“It’s okay,” I say to Grayson, “I’m sure you don’t.”

“Gigi’s told me so much about you, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” he says

I try to not act too surprised at the thought of Gigi telling her brother all about me. I make a mental note to talk to her about it later.

“You too,” I nod with another sweet smile

I was smiling so much my jaw started to ache. I notice Savannah slip away, most likely to go and relax her muscles after the tournament today. I look back to Grayson.

“Well I’ll let you guys get on,” he nods, like a man of business.

I nod and smile shyly. He returns the smile and Gigi takes my hand and pulls we towards the staircase. I get one last glimpse of him and then we’re gone. As we walk up the stairs I struggle to get Grayson out of my head, he’s like an annoying catchy song or advert repeating in a vicious circle… except it’s not annoying when I get to envisage his face. I shake my head and push him out of my mind, I cannot find him attractive, he’s Gigi’s brother for goodness’s sake.

“So now you’ve met my infamous secret brother,” Gigi smirks, nudging me.

“Now I have,” I nod, smiling.

“So now you officially know every inch of my life,” she tells me as we reach her bedroom door, “it’s kind of creepy when you think of it.”

“Then let’s not,” I shrug as we walk in.

We set up together on the floor and that’s when I pull out the bag of treats I’d bought for my addict of a friends. As soon as her eyes connect with the packaging they almost bulge out of her skull.

“You bought chocolate covered pretzels!” she screams, joy and awe written all over her face.

“Obviously,” I roll my eyes, handing her the bag.

“You are officially my favourite best friend ever,” she squeals, hugging them to her chest, like a mother would her child.

“Aren’t I your only best friend?” I say.

“Well yeah, but still…” Gigi trails off, as she opens the bag, “want one?”

“They’re all yours Gigi,” I tell her.

She hesitates for a moment, “Are you sure?”

“Very,” I reassure her, attempting to organise some of notes into piles.

“I’m paying you back,” she says confidently.

“Have fun trying,” I tease her, poking my tongue out,

“I will find a way,” she replied, determination thick in her voice.

Gigi and I only ever argued when it came to paying for things. We both were constantly trying to pay the other back for the 2 dollars they needed for a coffee or the movie tickets from the week before. But I’d gotten very inventive in preventing Gigi from paying me back.

“Sure you will sweetie,” I patronise her.

She ignores me, popping one of her chocolate covered pretzels into her mouth. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back and savours the taste.

“That is so amazingly yum,” she whispers.

“I’m glad,” I grin, “now come on. We have work to do.”

We work on the project for so long we lose track of time. Through giggles and shouts and possibly a few tears that neither of us will admit tomorrow, we’d gotten just short of halfway done. That is when Savannah calls us for dinner. Both in shock that we’d actually worked, made progress and managed to forget the time we go downstairs.

“You do realise that you both never shut up right?” Savannah says as we enter the room.

“Sorry,” I grin sheepishly, tucking the loose stands of hair behind my ears.

“I think it’s a good thing,” Gigi counters, “I like to talk.”

“Don’t we know it,” her sister rolls her eyes, sitting down at the table.

Four plates of streaming food sit on the table and we all take our places. Grayson joins us and sits down beside Savannah opposite me. I try not to hold my eyes on him for too long so it didn’t seem like I was staring but I couldn’t help but steal myself one glance. I’m driving myself crazy thinking about how my hand might fit perfectly into his and his pretty pretty mouth or that one tiny freckle just below his eyebrow, that I’d convinced myself I was the first to notice. I also really wanted this guys hair routine because his hair looked so silky and soft.

“How’s the project going?” Savannah asks over the clanging of silverware on plates.

“Good,” Gigi replies and then rethinks the decision, “I think.”

“We’re nearly halfway finished,” I explain, “but there’s a lot to do.”

“So much!” she groans, tipping her head back.

“What teacher do you have again?” Savannah asks us.

“Ms Harrison,” Gigi replies.

Savannah often wasn’t in our classes due to her extended sports timetable, so we didn’t have a lot of the same teachers. It was always kind of lonely without her.

She screws her face up, “I hate that woman.”

“She treats her subject like her child,” I roll my eyes, laughing.

“I mean when am I ever going to use history in my real life?” Gigi asks.

“You might need it in your job?” I shrug, taking a sip of water.

“As if,” she replies, giving me the look.

“What do you want to do Y/N?”

My head whips up and I stare directly at Grayson. His voice startles me. I’d almost forgotten he was there. It takes me far too long to process the question before I make some sort of awkward blubbering sound as I try and work out what to say.

“With what?” I blurt out, sounding really unsophisticated.

“Your life,” he clarifies.

My mind races at one hundred miles an hour, “big question…” I nervously giggle, “…erm I don’t really know,”

“Oh?” he replied, eyebrows slightly raised in… surprise, disapproval, shock?? I couldn’t tell he was almost impossible to read. I just wanted the ground to swallow me up from this embarrassment.

“I mean I don’t have a set plan,” I say quickly trying to patch things up, “I want to do something that makes me happy.”

“What makes you happy?”

“Stop questioning her Gray,” Gigi interrupts, “you’re creeping her out.”

I feel my cheeks heat up and I look down, suddenly taking an interest in the intricacy of the tablecloth.

“Sorry,” Grayson says. I couldn’t see his face but I would assume from his tone that he was also finding the tablecloth interesting right about now.

“No it’s fine,” I say, my eyes darting up for a millisecond and then straight back down.

There’s an uncomfortable silence and nothing can be heard. Not even breathing.

“Have you seen the new frappuccino on the menu at the coffee shop around the corner?” Gigi asks, breaking the deadly silence, “I think it’s honey and gingerbread.”

The conversation picks back up from there but Grayson doesn’t really make conversation after that. When dinner is over, we all clean up, mostly in silence. There were pockets of small talk here and there but not much. When we’re almost done, I make eye contact with Savannah and she gives me a look. A furrow my brows confused and tilt my head. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes slightly. She takes me by the arm and leads me into the bathroom.

“Savannah? What is this?” I ask her, absolutely baffled, “because it’s starting to feel like one of those murder mysteries except it’s not a mystery to me if I’m the one being murdered.”

“I’m not going to murder you,” she scoffs, “and if I was I would do it in a much classier way.”

“Oh thanks,” I say, sarcastically, “so why have you dragged me in here, please.”

“We need to talk,” she says, a serious look in her eyes.

I suddenly feel an odd sense of dread building up inside but laugh it off and attempt to make a joke, “look if you want to break up-“

She flashes a grin and then her face goes serious again. I suddenly get a wave of nervousness come over me and my brain flicks through every possible thing I could’ve messed up in the past few weeks.

“Why is it Sav? Did I do something?” I ask, concerned and scared.

“Can you stop eyeball flirting with my brother,” Savannah deadpans, “it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“What!?” I yell without thinking, before my hands fly to my mouth when I realise how loud I’ve been.

She sighs and starts to repeat her sentence, “can you stop eyeball-“

“I heard you the first time,” I tell her.

“Good, now can you?” Savannah asks, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the wall.

“I’m not eyeball flirting with anyone?” I hiss at her, maybe a bit too defensively.

“Okay, if you say so,” she says, “so can you stop ‘not eyeball flirting’ with my brother.”

“I can’t stop something I’m not doing,” I argue.

She stares at me, “you don’t want to fall for him.”

Her face doesn’t match her tone, it isn’t angry or aggressive, it’s concerned and worried.

“I’m not falling for him,” I reply softly, putting my hand on her arm, “I’ve barely met the poor guy.”

“He’s not a ‘poor guy’ by any long shot,” she laughs bitterly, “and if you think you like him, don’t. It’s a horrible road to go down.”

“Savannah I don’t like-“

“I know you,” she says sharply, stopping me mid sentence.

She’s right. She did know me. And I did like her brother… but she didn’t have to know just yet.

“He’s attractive, sure,” I shrug, trying to act cool and collected about the whole affair, “but it’s not like that.”

“Good,” Savannah says.

“Can we leave the almost murder scene now?” I joke, a smirk playing on my lips.

She rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder playfully, “oh leave off.”

a/n: well done you made it to the end 😭😭 I’m so sorry but it’s not even over… PART 2 is coming up :) and I promise it’s more interesting that this part…

(this was originally just going to be one long piece of writing but I’ve split it into two now)

… more fics on my TIG masterlist

[isthisfree]

My keyword request is...!

hope!

So confession time. I didn't have any WIPs for the game because my brain feels like mush most of the time right now, but I hoped that if I got any asks that they would motivate me to work on the next chapter of the soul bond fic.

It worked! I was able to put some words on paper lol. I incorporated the key word into the opening of the next chapter. Thank you for the motivation!

----------

“Enough, Anakin. Just enough.”

Obi-Wan’s initial reaction had been anger when he saw Ankin in the cockpit. All day Obi-Wan had wanted nothing more than to be with Anakin, help Anakin, rip the soul bond Anakin had for another out with his own fists and grind it under the heel of his boot, and yet here was Anakin leaving him. But as he watched Anakin make up a crazy story about a top secret mission from the council that is so secret– “not every council member has the need to know, Master. They don’t tell you everything”– his frustrations bled away as he took in Anakin’s naked desperation. Everything about his boy screamed extreme distress. 

Anakin fell silent at Obi-Wan’s plea and he felt his heart break at the sight before him. Without the bluster of his lies, Anakin hunched in on himself wrapping his arms tightly around his middle. If Anakin needed to be held, Obi-Wan was right here, ready and willing. 

Obi-Wan couldn’t stand it any longer and closed the small distance between them, enveloping Anakin in his arms. Like earlier that day, Anakin froze, but Obi-Wan made no move to let him go. He tightened his arms instead and offered Anakin his unending strength and love through the Force. 

“We will deal with the soul bond together. I’m not mad. I hope you know that. I am just worried and scared for you. I-I could not survive losing you, in any way. Please Anakin, we’ll be enough, together.”

Anakin let out a sob and dropped to his knees. Obi-Wan quickly followed suit and wrapped his arms back around Anakin’s shaking form. Anakin, tired of holding back pushed Obi-Wan into a sitting position and climbed into his lap, curling up until he could tuck his head under Obi-Wan’s chin. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” he said into Obi-Wan’s chest. 

“Shh, dear heart. You have nothing to be sorry for. Just tell me the name of your bonded and I’ll deal with them. It will all be ok.”  

Anakin reared back and finally looked Obi-Wan in his eyes. His eyes raced across Obi-Wan’s face as if it would be one of the last times he saw it and he needed to memorize the features. 

Anakin took a deep breath and seemed to brace himself. Obi-Wan ran his hand across Anakin’s back to sooth him. 

“Master, I am bonded to you.”

[whumpitisthen]

Blasphemy

Previous I Masterlist I Next

7.4k words....... my brain is mush but i wanted to finish this so badly so here it is!! i need to stop looking at it, you look at it now i dont want it >:( CWs: blood, referenced torture, broken bones, unconsciousness, self-esteem issues, crying, begging, self-sacrifice, bleeding out, religious themes, angel whumpee, nonhuman whumpee, multiple whumpees, nonhuman/vampire/deity whumper, bad caretaker, carewhumper, slavery mention, death, psychological whump, emotional whump, power dynamics, Grim's inability to be normal about his little guys, Auden's inability to be normal about anything, nudity (nonsexual)

Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic.

Of course he panicked.

How could he not? He just watched someone slowly bleed out in front of him, now lying in a pool of their own blood on the floor, motionless and gone, — and right before they pass out, all they ask of him is not to panic? What kind of request is that!

He told them to stop, he told them to take a break; why would they not listen? He doesn't need to be a healer to know that blood needs to stay inside a body, mortal or not. Blood means pain, blood means danger, blood means something is wrong. Blood covers every single inch of the floor.

Are they dead? He doesn't know, he doesn't know! They stopped moving, they fell to the ground like a corpse. They look dead, with the darkness under their eyes, and the sickly cold paleness that took hold of their skin. He should know, should be able to tell, he's an angel, how could he not know if a mortal is dead or not?

He has never needed to know. Healing is not a Guardian’s job, it's the sign of a Guardian’s failure. A Guardian protects, a Guardian shields, a Guardian prevents hurt before it could even occur. If their Dependant needs healing, that means they have failed in their duty.

He cannot have let this happen to them. He cannot have failed again. He cannot have failed them again.

All he knows to do is what feels right. The way he scrambles out of the bathtub is akin to a wild thing. He slips onto his knees, cradling Mori's unconscious body, barely feeling the wet tiles under his bony limbs. He holds them close, calling to them, shaking them gently.

They are cold, but mortals are only cold when their bodies die. He looks around frantically. A towel of some sort, large, folded neatly on a dresser near him. He leans over to tear the one he can reach out of the tower, not caring about all the rest falling to the floor after it. He drapes it over the both of them, hoping to achieve some sort of tent to trap the heat under.

Mori doesn't stir. No matter how much he warms them, no matter how many times he calls their name, no matter how much he begs them to remain alive; they show no aspiration to live. He grabs another towel and wraps it around their head, trying to stall the bleeding of their broken antler. That must be key; blood is finite, he has to stop it.

He isn't sure if mortals feel pain in their sleep, so he works carefully around the wound, putting far too little pressure onto it to cease the flow. The towel just keeps languidly swallowing up their blood, but it has to help, it must be better than nothing. Maybe if he holds them closer, if he cleans off all the crimson from their face. He wipes away the curtain of blood from their forehead and eye. He fixes their hair — it was a little dishevelled, but they kept it out of their eyes, carding through it habitually any time they got nervous.

There, they look a little better. That must have helped.

It has to help.

Please, please help.

They aren't moving. He holds them a little closer, shakes them, pleads with them. No response. The tent of towels and black wings aren't warming them at all. The blood still oozes.

He doesn't know what to do; he doesn't know how to help!

They need help.

He shouldn't…

‘They will die if you don't, and it will be all your fault.’

The only healer he knows of here is the Doctor, but he doesn't know how to contact it. He has seen absolutely nobody else in this silent mansion of endless corridors, and he fears leaving Mori's side for even a moment to go look. He wants to help them, but he needs help to do that.

So, in his weeping desperation, he calls to the one person he knows will answer.

Tears of worry pooling in his eyes, scared and helpless like a child, he wails for the Reaper.

Mori told him not to yell when they first met. He hadn't understood yet just how dangerous it could be to draw attention to himself. He was scared, just as scared as he is now, and now here he is, yelling again, listening to his own voice echo back at him, waiting for Death to arrive. This time, he makes noise on purpose, with purpose, and that only scares him more, because then if things go wrong, it won't be an accident anymore. He chose to do this all on his own.

He needs to, he has to. The Reaper has to understand. Mori will understand.

Even if they don't, at least they will still be alive to be angry at him for it.

The Reaper isn't here yet, and Auden tries his best to be patient. He counts the seconds, managing to make it past sixty, up till seventy. At around seventy-two he touches the towel wrapped around Mori's antler. It's heavy with blood.

He decides to try calling again.

It takes him another minute to psych himself up to raise his voice again and scream, his lungs filled with a convoluted mess of desperation to save Mori no matter the cost. The knowledge that he is demanding a deity to hurry up and answer him — his Lord would have erased him just for thinking he was entitled to His time.

But the Reaper isn't his Lord. Calling him a deity feels like sacrilege in itself, but Auden doesn't know what else to refer to him as. Anything lower seems unfitting, but he will absolutely not for even a moment think them coequal in status, power, or any other metric. He is powerful, and terrifying, and vicious and cruel, a force, necessary, but the angel only sees a twisted sanctuary every time he thinks of him. He is all those terrible things, and he saved him. He has to save Mori.

Auden fidgets under Mori. He rustles his wings. Tries to swallow the growing lump in his throat. The quiet fills with the gentle sound of rain droplets landing against the windows. Three large windows, with a double cross of thin black iron running up it to end in a pointed top elegantly. Should he open the window, let in some fresh air? No, it must be cold outside, Mori would get even colder. He holds them a little closer.

Where is he? Last time it barely took a minute for the Reaper to show up, popping up out of thin air like he never even left. It has to have been at least ten minutes, maybe twenty. An hour. A long time. He keeps having to reorder his black-blue legs under him, going numb on his knees with the extra weight.

He shudders out a breath that sounds suspiciously close to a sob, getting dizzy with how much he cranes his head from wall to wall, hoping to catch his black-cloaked saviour leaning up against it. Why is the Reaper not showing? He has to be coming. He looks down at Mori, sniffling. Whines pull at the corners of his lips, wobbling his chin.

Auden yells again, as loud as he can. The end of his cry wanes off into a miserable sound, muffled into Mori's hair.

Maybe he misunderstood. Maybe it wasn't the noise that had caught the Reaper's attention before. Maybe he is just so far away that he cannot hear. Maybe he heard and he doesn't care. Maybe he isn't coming at all. Lord, he isn't coming at all, is he?

Auden is all on his own, and Mori will die, or they are already dead, because Auden is a useless, winged fraud. Just a weak, pathetic nobody, getting people hurt and making fake promises. Mori died because of him. They died because he couldn't do as he was told.

“I am sorry. I am so, so sorry, Mori, I'm sorry,” — he blubbers through his tears. If he wasn't holding them as he does, he would draw blood with how deep he wants to dig his overgrown nails into his palm.

He wonders if Mori's soul can feel the force of his sobs through his chest. If it can hear his pitiful apologies. His ridiculous weeping.

He is so preoccupied with his self-loathing that he fails to notice the change. The candles giving a gentle, warm light flicker with an inexplicable gust of wind. The air cools and thickens with dread, filling his throat with a wicked black fog. The feeling of being watched is ignored. The suffocating terror starting up inside him is not much different than his grief. Past the curtain of his half-washed hair, a pair of heavy boots appear. A cloak of darkness. The smell of rot follows.

Then, a dark, haunting voice.

“Peril finds you good company, doesn't she?”

Auden jerks at the Reaper's insincere lamentation, his gasp loud in the otherwise silent room. His crying quiets immediately, frozen in his throat. He can't decide if he should be relieved or even more scared upon finding the Grim Reaper had heard him. He brought with him his deadly scythe and cloak of shadows. Auden cannot see under the canine skull, and it makes him nervous that he doesn't know what kind of expression it hides. Was that a tone of disappointment or indifference? Boredom? What if he is angry? Angry at him for yelling, for not doing as he said, for letting Mori die; oh, he must be angry…

His mouth opens and closes, suddenly dry of all sound. His eyes switch wildly between the deity and his maybe-dead companion, eventually filling with new tears and looking up pleadingly at his saviour, hoping for a little more mercy. — “I-I’m sorry, I yelled, I sh-shouldn’t, I know, but I-I-I didn't, I didn't know what else to do ah-and — Help, please help them, please help, I-I do not, I do not kn — I am not a healer, please don't let them die like this, I beg you, I beg you…”

The plea is soft, a quiet prayer. He is begging earnestly, deeply and perplexingly distraught at the misfortune of someone he hasn't even known for a day. His grief is raw and true. Kneeling in a pool of blood like this, weeping unendingly, painting the fawn with his sorrow, holding onto the tortured soul in his arms like they are the most precious treasure he has ever known — Grim finds it all such a pleasant surprise to come back to. Far more interesting than whatever the Hell those mortals were bumbling on about at the parley.

He expected Mori to have passed out, naturally; that part doesn't surprise him. But the angel… oh, this angel is surpassing all of his expectations. He is terrified for them, holding their unconscious body as if they will disappear if he lets go. And this beautiful red sheen across the floor, wall to wall; the overwhelming flavor of Mori's blood dancing in the air…

His footfalls remain measured as he approaches the two. He considers them silently, letting the pause eat at the angel, making up his mind on where to go from here. Finally, he sighs.

“The irony of calling me of all people here to save your friend cannot be lost on you,” — the Reaper says as he removes his mask, casually untensing every muscle that was primed to roll heads upon arriving at the angel’s desperate call, — “whatever made you think I would help them? Do you know me to be so merciful?”

The angel seems a little crestfallen at that, a little confused. Can't the Reaper see the person dying in his arms? Why would he not help? He has to help! — “Th — Mori, did — They need help…”

“Do they deserve help?”

“Yes!” — the Fallen cries, manic in his own uselessness, — “they, they did it right. They said you, you told them to help me, and they did, they kept going until they fell, even though I told them not to, and, a-and now you won't help them?”

Death tilts his head at him, brows raised and eyes laying him bare. A look of faux-confusion, like Auden is not making any sense, as well as something a little dangerous underneath peeking through at Auden's last words. — “They did not do it right. They have failed.” — He gestures at their unconscious body, still slowly oozing blood onto the floor, a puddle having been made to halo their head. — “I asked them to feed you, bathe you and get you ready for your new master. You are soaking wet and naked, distressed, kneeling in filth on the floor. Nowhere near ready. They have failed in their task.”

He isn't angry with them; there is no fury in his voice. He is stating this like it's a fact that they deserve to die for not meeting his impossible standards. The chilling conviction in him stalls the angel’s breath.

‘Convince him. Try to convince your saviour that he is wrong. Beg for his favour. He is testing your faith.’

His bare shoulders jerk, the sudden weight of the persistent voice landing on them like a pair of heavy hands, guiding him further into desperation. Grim narrows his eyes.

Any other angel would have taken the straight refusal of help and backed down, bowing their head and apologising for asking for something so untoward. Angels do not argue. They do not plead; they pray and hope, and if their wishes aren't granted, then it is the will of God, and so there must be good reason for it. It's part of their culture, something that most of them do not even notice about themselves as strange or naïve. It's just how they operate in Heaven, and only once removed from their palace of ignorance do they start understanding all the intricate little ways in which they are taught to obey and never question much of anything.

Auden never found this particular skill to be so self-evident or natural to weave. Even if he did, his Guardian nature will not allow him to let go so easily when Mori could very well die in his arms any moment, and it's on him to try to plead with the Reaper to save them. —“Please. They do not deserve this. It, it isn't fair.”

The Reaper smiles. It's an empty smile that doesn't reach past his lips. — “Is that so?” — Pretending to be in deep thought, Grim hums, then leans down as if to whisper to the angel about something forbidden, the blade of his heavy scythe floating above him like a crescent moon as his hands move to cross at the small of his back. — “Is it fair, up there?”

The angel pauses, swallowing. — “Whu — What?”

“Was it fair when they deemed you a sinner? When you were cast out? When you landed; burnt, bruised, defenceless on the earth as a mortal? Was it fair?”

His eyes widen. Auden remembers when it all fell apart. He remembers vividly every pair of eyes that turned hateful, the friends he lost, the time he spent praying, begging for another chance. He thought he was invincible back then. He thought that as an angel, a Guardian, no matter how weak or clumsy he was, as long as he kept his faith close, there would be nothing more he could want. He worried about such insignificant things, spending days with worry etched between his brows because of an off-handed comment someone more capable than him made, trying so pathetically to prove himself to people who couldn't care less about him.

He was trying so desperately to fit in, while failing to follow the most simple of instructions given to him by his Seraph.

He thought he knew better. When he was told his human no longer deserved protection, he thought there must have been a mistake. When he kept watching over them despite clear orders, he thought he was doing the right thing. When his human got into trouble, real trouble, and he had to help, he had to, but there was no way to do it lawfully, not without breaking the most unbreakable of rules; — when he locked eyes with his human for the first time like he always dreamed he could, when he saw recognition in theirs… He was arrogant, selfish, unfit to be a holy servant. He was told as much when his sins were tallied by the cold voice of the Council during the ceremony of his banishment.

He wonders if he could visit his human sometime now that he is stuck here. He hopes they are safe. He hopes they don't remember him at all, but he wonders sometimes, — if they do remember him, do they think of him often?

Maybe he shouldn't visit them anyway. He would much rather they keep the image of who he was back then instead of who he is now.

“It w-was…” — His head droops. He tries to consider the Reaper's question, but the more he thinks about it, the more it confuses him. He huffs frustratedly. It should be the easiest answer to give. His Lord is fair and just. Every angel lives by strict rules, orders, responsibilities. His punishment was fair. He takes it to be another failing of his own; just how much it hurts to believe this. — “…It doesn't matter if, if it was. Mori doesn't deserve this.”

‘Your crime was not sin. It, too, was inadequacy. Failure. You were not malicious. You were weak.’

He may have been weak, but Mori isn't. They are stronger than he ever was.

‘They failed their Master like you failed yours.’

That's different, the Lord is not Auden's master — Mori wasn't made to obey —

‘Were they not? They told you what they are. A slave from birth. Made to serve.’

“Mori doesn't deserve any of this, they, they — “

‘They are hellspawn. They deserve everything they are given.’

“They don't! — he nearly shouts, overwhelmed and manic with grief, trying to drain out the malevolent voice inside his head. — “They did everything as well as they possibly could, they made no mistakes, they were kind and brave and helpful and they for-forgave me, even after, after I messed up, over and over again! Just, if,“ — his voice breaks in preparation for what he is about to ask for, — “if they deserve punishment, let me take it! If they failed, it was because of me, and I will, I will take it, no matter what it is. I won't let them — please don't punish them for my mistakes.”

The Reaper's expression hardly changes in reaction to Auden's outburst. The angel's choppy babbling doesn't really phase him, though the corner of Grim's mouth catches on that almost threat; — ‘I won't let them.’ As if the angel had any power over what happens next. The thought is amusing.

It's hilarious how little he knows of pain. He would not be so eager to take it otherwise.

Grim's polite smile quickly vanishes, eyes narrowed to slits. Leaning back in a slow, assertive manner, he straightens his spine to stand tall once more, looking down upon Auden like a judge. His head is haloed by the light of the chandelier behind him, casting an intimidating shadow over the both of them. — “I am not deaf, angel. If I wished to hear your shrill screeching, believe me, I would have plenty of ways to drag it out of you.”

The angel's mouth snaps shut instantly. This sudden change in the deity's tone freezes him to his core. The way he fights himself to speak so he may apologise reminds Grim of a fish out of water, mouth agape and gasping. — “I-I didn't… I am sorry, I didn't realise I was —”

“No, you did not. Perception eludes you like oil does water.”

It's that little righteous incredulity that crawls its way into his tone. That disappointment, but a lack of expectation to begin with, that sears Auden's heart like venom. It's a familiar pain, and so he does what he has learned to do all those other times he felt this same shame — he bows his head and remains silent, letting the self-loathing eat up any stray thoughts that could distract him from his shame.

Truthfully, Grim is not so angry. Maybe a little, — after all, this is the second time he has come to the angel's rescue, only to find him perfectly fine — but it does irk him, this… shadow, behind every word he says. Something bothers him, clearly. Whatever it is, it muffles his true thoughts, distracts him, diverts his attention; and well, Grim has never been very good at sharing with others. He wants to rip open that silly skull and pick at his brain until he finds what he is looking for.

The angel shivers under his gaze. In allowing Auden a moment to steep in his misery, he also allows for the mouthwatering aroma of Mori's spillt blood to overwhelm his focus. With the crimson smeared so thoroughly in this small room, the smell of it is near impossible to ignore. In the angel's arms, Mori is angled just so, their veins supplying drop after drop of crimson for the floor to collect. The sound of wasted nectar could drive him mad. This lovely scene coupled with the angel's pleasant vanilla-scent, and his beautiful sorrow on display is a perfect cocktail mix for all his senses to drink up.

He inhales deeply. Eternal hunger is a hell of a curse.

Eventually, the angel's sobs quieten. Softness carries Death's next words; — “Were you scared for them?”

Auden nods, sniffling sadly. His only friend, perhaps already dead. It devastates him. He loosens his hold on Mori, breaking under the voice telling him over and over that he is holding onto a corpse.

“You have grown so close to them already… a foolish mistake, but you couldn't have known. You know so little.”

A backhandedly sympathetic assurance that only serves to drive the edge of that searing shame deeper into his chest. The tent he holds sinks as his wings do, pooling the towel around himself and uncovering Mori's cold body. They look so small and defenceless. A sea of scars, old and new. Deep bruises that will never have the chance to heal. Tired eyes that will never open. A shattered wrist and a snapped antler, his own contributions to the collage of their suffering.

He is truly the most pathetic being in all of existence.

In the soft candlelight, Grim watches him unravel with great excitement. Though he says nothing, his lips curl and his eyes light up in amusement. This Fallen is a funny one. A large golden heart hidden beneath the thinnest layers of skin and bone. Naïve. Easy to mold, to trick, to scar. Passionate, even now, during a time most would consider too unbearable to be worth holding on for. And the taste of his sorrow; the sweetness of his tears… Such a darling little lamb.

Though the sound of footfalls were not silent, Auden still flinches from the silver claws entering his vision. Dropped to a crouch, Grim had sat aside his scythe and attempted to lower himself to the angel's level, now reaching for Mori.

Numbly, Auden watches those clawed fingers sink beneath the sticky brown locks of the unconscious servant. They massage tenderly, avoiding cutting into the skin underneath. The closeness has Auden’s skin inadvertently crawling, his already cold flesh chilled even deeper from such proximity to Death. Like this, he finds himself paying that much closer attention to every little detail about his saviour.

The Reaper's skin is truly pale, its hue only surpassed by his snow-white hair. Auden's gaze catches on the small dot right under his left eye — do beings like him have such flaws? Mortals have plenty, birthmarks and such, but Auden has never imagined deities could have such mundane imperfections. His left arm is where the void-black markings on his skin begin — downright monstrous with sickening veins popping out of wicked muscles, fully corrupted by the darkness, a gauntlet of silver claws enunciating its role being a weapon of slaughter. From the tips of the fingers, to the wrist, shoulder, then presumably up the chest and crawling all the way up under his chin, drawing confusing, intricate shapes that remind Auden of an all-consuming hellfire.

The hand carding through Mori's hair is jewelled as opposed to armoured, the markings there more… unnatural. Man-made would be a better term to use. They remind Auden of some of the painted pages of his codices in their pattern, as opposed to the fuller, consuming, almost infectious spread running up his neck. Parallel lines, symbols, some sort of language. They run along each finger, disappearing under shining metal rings, ending in sharp black nails. Auden never noticed before, just how marred the flesh under those rings are. It's like they were welded into him. Deep, sickening scarring that is red around the edges under each iron band.

He wonders just how much influence Hell’s infection has had on the Reaper. As far as he is aware, Death has been a neutral, non-conforming being since the beginning of time. Because his job requires him to be a bridge not only between Heaven and Earth, but Hell and Earth as well, and because of his independent nature, angels have grown further and further from conversing with him, and Auden has only really been taught that the Grim Reaper is a necessary evil, and that it's not his place to be inquiring about things that do not pertain to him. But he has to imagine, with how much of Earth has been swallowed up by demonkind, the balance of things changing must have had some sort of effect on him.

His brain feels like there are a thousand ants crawling all over it. His train of thought halts upon contact with those iron claws, holding his chin to direct his wide eyes toward the Reaper's. The claws are sharp, an ornately carved glove of icy blades. His breath halts completely, and the Reaper grins.

“You are fond of them,” — the Reaper states, jerking Auden's head to lead his gaze back to himself when he tries looking away, — “did you get to know each other well?”

Auden finds it hard to care, right now. Even through his fear-indebtedness-adoration for the deity and Death's cursed aura snuffing out any breath of disobedience with a chilling sense of terror, he just cannot bring himself to respond. His eyes are red and empty and tired, similar to Mori's — their gaze is always alert, fearful, but tired, missing their spark. They hold no flame in them anymore; that is, if they ever did. A wilted rose.

He cannot nod, but the fresh tears and a lovely shudder are enough of a response either way.

Grim tuts sympathetically, feeling a great urge to kiss away those beautiful tears. While it is a mere fact that angels are not exactly made to deal with loss, this one is young and so very tenderhearted. It very nearly breaks his heart to watch the darling dove shatter like this.

It is the angel's most endearing quality; how strongly he feels. It's like all rational thought escapes him as soon as his heart fires up. When he is frustrated or sees some sort of injustice, he forgets himself, and becomes foolishly unafraid. When he is sad, he cannot bear to exist at all, shutting down completely. And Grim does not doubt for a moment that he becomes the most bouncy, passionate, energetic critter when he is happy. It almost makes him curious to see just how much joy can fit into this broken-winged-broken-hearted darling. It clearly doesn't matter who witnesses, if the little thing behaves like this even in front of him, someone he is well and truly afraid of.

“Do not weep,” — he settles on, the soothing murmur coupled with a kind expression, — “It will be okay. It will all be okay. I will make sure of it.”

It isn't a lie, depending on a given day. Somedays, okay means content and safe. On others, it will mean just enough mercy to keep his lungs working so he may live. However, it doesn't matter what it means to the angel. Right now, what he hears is what he needs — supporting words, kind words, caring words. He could forget about the blades at his throat for those, like he has already forgotten the godly being comforting him is the same one that wounded his friend so deep and cruel, then forced them to work themself bloodless and unconscious.

A tear slides down his claw, glimmering tantalisingly as it rolls down like a pearl of glass. It's so perfectly silent. His pointed ears twitch at the sound of the drop splattering on the floor.

He cannot resist lifting a hand soaked in Mori's blood to wipe away the rivulets of sweet sorrow from the angel's red cheeks. Hopefully his tears blind him to the condescending expression on the Reaper's face. — “There there. Come, let me help.”

Wiping, petting, caressing, pinching, ruffling, — his hands do not leave him until Auden starts reacting, once he realises he is being teased, weakly pulling back from all the unwanted, giggling attention. It should really not surprise him at all that Death would find the passing of a mortal so uninteresting, but his stomach still flips at just how unbothered he acts. Mori spoke so reverently of him…

With one last pull on his still slippery hair — the conditioner was never rinsed out, it seems, though the strong yet pleasant smell coming off him in waves should have been a dead giveaway — Grim rescinds. Gently, he takes hold of Auden's wrists, pressing his thumbs flush against his pulse there and massaging. He feels so wonderful. — “Let go of them, angel.”

Belatedly, Auden draws back from Mori's body, letting the Reaper cradle them instead. In the tall deity's arms, they look even smaller. As he stands, Auden finds himself reaching after them, watching Mori's legs swing in the air limply, their body held in a bridal carry. The unshakeable urge to protect eats at him relentlessly. He feels like a dog growling at passerby above its owner's corpse.

“Whe-Where are you take-ing them?” — Auden croaks tiredly, cursed with the after-cry hiccups.

The towel the angel had wrapped around Mori's head falls to the ground with a wet splat. The stump where their antler used to be is still weeping, though much slower, demanding attention from the vampyric deity. He may have gone a little overboard with that one, he ponders, humming himself; —  but really, it's his little fawn’s fault for making the most adorable sounds when he threatened to rip the antler off by grabbing onto it and slowly twisting their head by it. Their ears pulled back, their eyes turned as large as dinner plates, and they trembled, so small, so sweet against the floor, pinned and vulnerable, squirming under their master to escape, but too scared to actually try. They do so well with threats, so proficient in begging for mercy, so perfect soaked in terror.

There is no wolf that could hold its jaw slack around the throat of its prey once its fangs have drawn blood. It is fun for a while; the squirming, the whining, the pleading and crying; — but it is only a matter of time until those jaws slam down and shatter the vermin's spine.

Gently, with so much care, he presses his lips onto the wound, kissing it closed. His fawn’s delectable blood could send him into a frenzy on the best of days, but unfortunately, they might really not survive if he doesn't concentrate, so he makes sure not to lose himself in his violent thirst.

Miraculously, the bleeding stops. Grim purrs, perfectly content as he licks his teeth clean of the divine crimson.

Auden is… mortified. What did Death just do? Does he do that often? It looked like he enjoyed it, and the very thought of taking pleasure in the taste of someone's blood — someone who is dying of a lack of it! — sends a horrid shiver down Auden's spine. Perhaps it's some sort of ritual, for the Reaper to drink the blood of the deceased? That sounds like some sort of demonic ceremony. He called Mori a demon, before… He can't really make up his mind about this, so he just stares at the deity like an idiot, a somewhat questioning-disgusted look on his face.

Auden is so stunned that Grim cannot help the laugh that bubbles out of him. Those big wet eyes are so perplexed at what they were just witness to; he is reminded of a baby seal. — “What is it? You look positively aghast.”

The big grin on his face is tainted with smudges of red. Auden opens his mouth, but he ends up closing it anyway. He blinks, shakes his head. It's nothing, he signals.

To that, there is no response. A moment stretches between the two, listening to the sounds of rain and Auden's hand rubbing at his face. There is blood under his nails.

“Well, to answer your question, since you won't answer mine — I am helping them,” — he states, bouncing them carefully to get a better grip on their body, — “is that not what you wanted? Would you prefer me to leave them here to rot?”

Auden shakes his head vehemently, though his eyes water and his face falls again at the confirmation of his perceived situation. He is going to dispose of the body. — “No, no, I do not want that, I am sorry, I’m, I-I just…”

Grim can see his throat closing up from where he stands. The angel’s sobs are choking him, barely letting him speak. What comes out is a fragile, quivering breath. — “Could… Could you please tell them that, h-how, that, that I am sorry? I, I am sorry that I could not save them? Please. A-And that I nev-ver, ever meant to hurt them? I-I, need them to know this, please…”

Oh, now that is just precious. He is so scared they won't forgive him. It warms Grim’s heart. — “So I am your messenger pigeon now, am I?”

Auden could never live with the thought that Mori died because of him and that they never even heard him apologise. The crushing guilt he feels will kill him if the last thing Mori was allowed to do was clean his body of filth, a slave from birth ‘till death, as they bled out, and Auden could never let them know how much more he thought of them, how in the short time he spent with them, they have entirely changed how he sees the world. Auden wanted to ask them so many things, he wanted to hear them talk and see them smile and help them and protect them, and he cannot keep living if they will never even know how much they meant to him.

It was only a few hours at best. Half of it was spent in terror, pain and confusion. But, Auden cannot help it; — when he sees an innocent, good soul suffer, he would give up everything he can to preserve their life. If Mori deserved half of what was done to them, then Auden deserves a hundred times worse. It's no wonder in his mind that he feels so strongly for them, even after such a short time; to him his duty is clear as day. That must be why he hurts so much, watching Death take them like he would any other perished mortal.

He sounds like he's demanding again, and he is starting to feel like that might be true. His thoughts vacillate. He goes quiet for a moment.

He's already kneeling. What else does he have to lose?

“Angel…” — the Reaper gasps, scandalised by what he sees.

The boy just keeps on thinking of new, outrageous ways to surprise him. He is bowing in front of him, putting his hands together in humble prayer. At his feet, showing obedience and loyalty, he supplicates to someone other than his Lord. He breaks another rule, disobeys another law, because what does it matter to follow divine law when he will never get to gaze upon his Heaven or be grazed by God's holy light again? What does anything matter, all that he does and thinks and finds right, in this upside down world of torment and perdition? Why was he even created, allowed to live, if he cannot even fulfill the one purpose he was made for? He is a failure, through and through, if he truly would rather hold onto dignity and loyalty to something he will never have the opportunity to be part of again — if he ever was — over what truly matters.

The Fallen closes his eyes, hiding from his own act of sacrilege. Behind his eyelids, he sees Mori, scared and alone, stuck inside their body, in darkness, feeling only the frigid touch of Death nearby. The image provides inspiration to continue what he began. — “I ask you, Grim Reaper, you who governs death, who ferries mortal souls to the beyond, to hear me. I need you as much as I fear you, but more than myself, I fear for the blameless soul in your arms, and ask… beg, that you find it in your endless might to allow my message to be heard, before they leave here and never return.”

This is prayer. He is praying to him. The angel has thrown away everything this very moment, broken down and empty, and prays as he would have — should have — done for no one else but his Lord. The rule, one that cannot be broken, of faith above all else, of belief and reverence and worship for nobody but their one true God, a law engraved so deeply into every angel's soul that even after death they cannot help floating towards light, no matter how far they have fallen; — he would betray his divine nature so easily; for a slave of Hell. For a single, inconceivably small speck of dust he barely knows. Absolutely astounding.

He wouldn't dream of cutting short this beautiful show of veneration. He waits patiently until the angel convinces himself to spit out the Amen, sealing the prayer as is customary, and waits longer still to see if he will say anything more. Temptation drives him to keep waiting until the Fallen crawls forward to kiss his feet or start making other desperate offerings of submission in the hopes that he grants his wish. Alas, time is not infinite.

“I think I may have a supposition about what the reason you were cast out may be,” — he crools belatedly,  — “I have to ask, angel; — are you mad?”

He must be, Auden is certain. He hears voices that aren't his own, he cannot understand things that are obvious and clear to anyone but him, he would give up everything for the smallest of rewards and do it all over again if the opportunity arose, he is an outlier and a failure and he is the only angel in existence that would choose to worship a bringer of death over spending all that is left of his life begging the Lord for forgiveness. No sane angel acts like this. No sane angel even thinks of doing this.

It feels impossible to squeeze any sort of a response out of himself. Lacking any other way to proceed, he bows low, all the way to the floor. His forehead touches the cold, sticky layer of Mori's blood below. It surprises even him, how little shame he feels. He doesn't really feel much of anything, unable to see past Mori's teary face in front of him. All he cares about is making sure they know someone will miss them, and remember them.

He is as close as he can physically be without touching the deity. His hair reaches for the toe of Grim's boot. He remembers how similarly Mori bowed before Death when they met, right before their hand was shattered bit by bit. He forces his hands still.

“I cannot tell if you were made too well, or made to fail. Your sense of duty flares so bright, it supersedes your faith. A disloyal angel: how paradoxically peculiar…” — Grim wonders aloud. Despite himself, he is a small bit awestruck at this rather sacrilegious turn of events. An angel that would willingly serve another god — oh, he knew this one would be special, he knew as soon as he had laid eyes on him! His old friend will have plenty to nibble on with this wretched little dove, what with all their mirrorisms. He cannot wait to finally introduce them.

With this, he wonders — what kind of angel would do something like this for someone like Mori? A fierce sense of protection, responsibility and righteousness, enough to rival faith. He does not have to think for long.

“You're a bit small for a Guardian, aren't you?” — he beamed, his tone patronising and wicked. — “A protector of the innocent. Justice is your flesh and self-sacrifice sweetens your veins. Mori is more than a companion to cling to in your darkest time of need, I see now. You chose them as your Dependant. What a brashly unfortunate decision that was.”

It wasn't a decision — he wants to scream those words at Death, for seeing through him so effortlessly, like he knows exactly what goes on in Auden's head. A decision would require conscious thought. It can be abandoned at any point. What he has made is a pact, and while he may have been somewhat conscious of his initial urge to protect, it's become something he cannot let go of, something that drives him crazy every day as long as it lasts, and that haunts him long after it's broken. He cannot help it, he can love no other way.

He wants to scream, but all that makes it out is a sound similar to a miserable choked off sob. The wings on his back are lopsidedly sliding off his back to soak on the floor instead, too exhausted to be kept neatly folded behind him.

The Reaper's laughter is a haunting melody ending in a good-natured sigh. — “Mm, well. I must admit, you have given me a taste of something new. My name is only spoken to pray me away by most. I am so used to ignoring pleas — but one so beautifully spoken I cannot ignore so easily.”

There is a pause, the sound of rain. Then, Death steps closer again, finding grip under the angel's chin with the toe of his blooded boot. He doesn't stop lifting until those gorgeous lavender eyes find his own; wide, frightened, full of life.

They look so alike.

“I will let them know,” — he promises, a fond smile telling of something sinister under his sincerity, — “you need not worry about a thing, little lamb.”

The angel crumbles like a house of cards, gratitude and grief spilling forth from him uncontrollably. Near unresponsive with his pain, he can only nod to show he can hear the Reaper's orders. Finish bathing, dry off, put on some clothes — further teasing about how unangelic it is of him to be bare in front of others so unapologetically — and wait for the Reaper to return.

Backing off, Grim watches the little one reach for the blood-soaked towel to drag close and bury his face in. He keeps the fabric close, reminded of his precarious nakedness so suddenly. He pulls his knees out from under him and up to his chest, shuddering with the force of his weeping, but so quiet, quieter still than Mori’s slowly beating heart.

Sorrow looks beautiful on him. Why else would he have been made this way, to feel so strongly, if not to show off all the beauteous shades of his torment?

The next time Auden lifts his head, he finds himself alone in the crimson bathroom. His cries have died down, his lungs have emptied themselves of anguish, and the Reaper has long disappeared into a black mist, bringing with Mori's body and soul, as if they were never even here to begin with. The water in the tub has gone cold, but he only notices after a couple minutes of numb soaking.

Mori will understand. They will know. The Reaper promised. That is all that matters.

<3

Mastelist | Ko-fi

Taglist: @whumpsday @whump-me-all-night-long @sordayciega @a-miscellaneous-number-of-rats

@letitbehurt @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

Taglist (tagged in everything I write): @morning-star-whump @whumprince @a-living-canvas

[iguana-eyanna]

Hey I was wondering if you do requests? If you do could you do a Gil x reader where she’s Betty’s tutor in science and he swears he’s never seen her (but they go to the same school) and he is so smitten. Also some sibling antics between the Rizzo siblings like in the show haha! I also LOVE your writing!

Omg yes!!! Love this concept. Here’s a little one shot I thought of.

T🪽Birds request: Meeting… Again (Gil)

"Ma! I got the groceries!" Gil said out loud as he kicked his boots off at the doorway.

Gil's mom comes at the door, smiling at her eldest as he came to pick up groceries for their family.

"Gil, I told you i'd get them after Betty's tutor session is done." she lightly scolded him as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Nah, it's not a problem. I dropped the guys off and had some time on my plate. Where is dear sister of mine?"

He asks, wanting to make fun of Betty as she failed her last science quiz at school.

"She's in the kitchen with her tutor. Don't interrupt, please." She said before making her way in their house. Once gone, Gil runs for the kitchen and starts his antics.

He was about to announce his presence till he saw you and Betty sitting at the table while you were pointing at the book.

"-and that's how you use the scientific method." You said, dropping your pencil as you pointed out the page with it.

Betty brightened up as she looks back at you.

"It's so easy to understand now! When Mr. Winslow explains it, my brain turns to mush."

"Yeah, I had Mr. Winslow when I was your grade. I thought he was from the planet Mars." You joke as both of you laugh.

"You had him too?" Gil asked out loud.

You and Betty look at him as you didn't realize he was in the room.

"Get away, Gil. I'm trying to study." Betty said sharply.

"Hey, I'm not the one failing science right now. I'm just trying to get to know this beautiful and smart lady in front of me who unfortunately had to take that old man's class." Gil said, offering his hand towards you.

You lightly scoff as you look at Gil.

"Well, we both took his class together at Betty's grade. Or have you forgotten that we've been going to the same schools since junior high?" You ask, slightly teasing him.

Gil's face falls and his sister tries to silence her giggles. One thing about you is that you're not afraid to say what's on your mind.

He thought that was so cool.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." He said, trying to chuckle it off as he straightened up.

Your features become softer as you give him a sympathetic look.

"It's alright. We're not really in the same classes now. I don't usually stand out for fun people like you, Gil." You said, making him feel more at ease.

Gil pretended to ponder, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Hmm, maybe I just have a selective memory. But I'm definitely not forgetting you anytime soon."

You two silently stare at each other, smiling until Betty interrupted, waving her arm to grab your attention.

"Hello? I didn't realize this tutor session turned into a date." She slightly yells out loud.

You and Gil break out of your trance as you cough in embarrassment.

"Sorry. Let's focus on chapter 5." You said, staring down at the book. Gil waves a small goodbye as he leaves you both alone and heads to his room, not knowing you were looking at him leave.

He slumps on his bed and looks up at the ceiling, sighing contently as all he could do was think of your smile.

That’s when he realized you got him twirled around his finger.

And he’s more than okay with that.

[noellefan101]

Helloo!!

I would to send in a request, could you do a soft/fluff day with Mister Neuvillette? With a Female Raeder as well please :)

If your uncomfortable with this request you are welcome to ignore it, thank you very much! :3

(Sending headpats!)

(thank u for the headpats!)

Characters: Neuvillette x Female reader

Summary: a sweet day off, with Neuvi

[edit: i forgot to tag u so here, @ayoharuko]

i only use they/them pronounce for the melusines bc they are in a group(and im a coward)

Note: i tired to finish this as quickly as possible, bc i havent really written anything for neuvi(other than my kissing them series). but i really liked writing this, though it was a little hard to come up with something(my brain is becoming mush), love you

It was really sunny when you woke up, the light shining through the half-open curtains, giving your skin a beautiful glow as well. you sat up in your bed, looking around tiredly. and you were surprised to see Neuvillette still in bed, since he would normally be out of the house by now. but it's not like you were complaining, especially not on his day off. so you quietly snuck out of bed to not wake him, quickly put on a decent outfit and started making breakfast for him.

He eventually did wake up, despite you trying to be quiet, and walked around the house to find you since you weren´t in bed.

He found you in the kitchen, happily dancing around as you made breakfast for you both. the sight made his heart beat in so many ways he couldn´t understand, but he felt warm whenever it happened, so he didn´t give it much thought. although Sigewinne once told him its a sign that he loves you, and so she had to explain to him how that works(she wanted to give up inside a little(poor Sigewinne)).

"Neuvi? Are you ok? you´ve been staring at me for a while now y'know"

"..."

"..."

He didn´t hear you, too lost in your beauty to comprehend that you were talking to him. you were a little annoyed at being ignored, but quickly brushed it off and tried calling him again, this time with a hand on his cheek,

"Neuvillette love, you there?"

He snapped out of his line of thought the second you touched his cheek, now looking into your eyes. placing his own hand over yours.

"Sorry darling, i was just a little too lost in your beauty for a moment. was there anything you needed?"

You looked into his eyes, thinking for a bit, was there anything you needed right now, you guessed he could help you get the flour from the top capinet.

"yes actually, could you be so kind as to hand me the flour, its for the cake i said i wanted to bake"

You looked at him with the pretties eyes you could manage.

"Sure lovely, I´ll get you anything you need"

You removed your hand from his face and walked over to the bowl of sugar and eggs, to mix them together, before the dry ingredients were put in.

You had been baking all morning, what had Neuvillette been doing you ask, well... you actually don't know. either he was in the kitchen helping(looking at) you or he was out of your line of sight(prob with a melusine).

But now you´re kind of missing his presence, and you were done with most of the pastries you wanted him and the melusines to try(your excuse to see him being cute with them).

So you of course wanted to find him.

But you still needed time to set up what you had planned for his day off, and you asked some melusines to help you carry the lighter things, like a blanket or spoons(not knives or forks, they could hurt themselves). and when they then offered to get him for you, you protested, but they just continued on with "you should relax too you´know, not just him. now sit down and we´ll get him over here." so you obliged.

The main reason you had decided that today would be a great time to have a picnic out on a field of flowers, was because it didn´t seem like there were going to be many, if any, clouds today, so it would be perfect for a picnic(hence why you spent your morning in the kitchen).

When they (totally not forcefully) dragged him over to your prepared date, they could see the visible change it his eyes (though it was already softer than normal, bc melusines) when he looked at you sitting among the flowers. he eventually sat down beside you, kissing your cheek softly and thanking you for doing this just for him.

Eventually, the melusines that helped you set up and stuff left (smiling sweetly at their monsuir [i think i spelled it wrong, im sry] Neuvillette´s sweet interaction with you).

The both of you didn´t even notice and you just continued on with your picnic. you offered him a piece of the cake you baked in the morning, and he happily took it, enjoying the taste of your baking.

(as he should)

He had also looked at you with heart in his eyes(more than he normally did) as you ate your piece of cake, he couldn´t help himself you were too beautiful not to look at too long. It´s not the first time he has looked(stared) at you today either, and it certainly won´t be the last time today. Safe to say he liked having this day with you, a day containing only you (and the occasional Melusine), instead of all the paperwork being the only thing he normally looks at all-day.

He liked anything you did together, it doesn´t matter if it was his or your idea, neither if he liked the thing or not, the thing that mattered was that you wanted to, that you were there with him, and he loves you even more for that.

He loves you more than a diver loves the sea, more than a florist loves flowers, more than anything.

Thank u for reading, hope its ok(ik its late asf), luv ya-Masterlist

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