#and this is how I felt nonstop: far too hot

[alena-draws]

I seriously don't know how he manages being in his big coat and leather undergear all the time

[hotyanderedaddies]

Trying to Ignore a Yandere Demon Who Wants to Claim You

[Yandere! Demon x GN! Anxious Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"Whatever you do, do not-- I repeat: DO NOT acknowledge the demon in any manner. If you do, then he can latch onto you and take you."

The words of the psychic you'd contacted for help kept filtering through your head as you stared blankly forward, forcing your eyes to laser focus in on the bright colors of the TV. The volume was on full blast as you attempted to drown out the sounds of him.

"Darling," that eerie, deep voice echoed out. Its user was so close that could feel its hot breath wafting over your cheek, but you refused to give the slightest indication that you'd heard it.

"If a love demon decides that it wants you, then it'll follow you around nonstop like a lovesick puppy. It'll do anything to get you to notice it..."

The demon playfully ran one of his fingers through your hair, his skin hot to the touch. He completely dwarfed you, looking like he outweighed you by fifty pounds of pure muscle and was taller by at least two feet. His demonic proportions made him look hulking and menacing, yet whenever he looked at you, his mouth pulled into a large smile.... full of razor sharp teeth.

"Will you look at me, Darling?" he asked, sticking out his lower lip mockingly. "I love you. I only want to talk to my darling."

"Don't look at it. Don't listen to it. Don't react to its movements. The slightest indication that you're aware of its presence is a sign the demon takes that you've agreed to be theirs..."

The demon huffed, irritated. He stomped his way in front of the TV and glared at you with his glowing eyes. "I know you see me," he accused.

You refused to stop glancing forward, pretending that you could still see whatever show you were trying to watch.

The demon tore his shirt away from his body, showing off his impressive chest muscles. He held his arms out, as if to show off to you. "Check it out, Darling," he announced, "I'm bigger than most of the other love demons. So I can protect you and take very good care of you."

He slowly approached the couch.

"Because a love demon makes its presence known to only one person: their darling."

"I love you so much, Darling," the demon cooed, placing both of his hands on either side of your face.

You winced internally and tried your best to look deadpan, avoiding the demon's glare with all of your might.

You refused to break, because if you did, then you'd belong to a demon for all eternity.

But damn it, he was persistent.

Ever since he'd made his presence known to you last week, the demon followed you around everywhere you went, trying to get you to acknowledge him:

He'd cause a ruckus in class, throwing textbooks and chairs around, leading to the other students thinking that you were out of your mind and throwing them yourself.

He'd follow you into the shower and jerk off as you bathed, talking about how he couldn't wait to touch you himself.

He'd sing soft lullabies to you as you tried to sleep. And he would frequently get under the covers with you too, snuggling you from behind.

He'd follow you whenever you went grocery shopping, threatening to push one of the elderly shoppers in front of one of the moving vehicles in the parking lot. But you couldn't warn the other person unless you wanted to be taken by a demon. RIP.

He'd even gone so far as to set your dinner on the stove on fire, and you had to mutter loudly that you'd foolishly forgotten to turn the gas off.

He was growing impatient.

"Darling," the demon growled, baring his large teeth at you, "all you have to do is notice me, and I promise that you'll be all mine. All mine, and no one else's. Doesn't my sweet baby want that?"

He bit down on his lower lip for a second before perking up.

Before you could guess what was going on in his mischievous head, the demon pressed his warm lips against yours. They were soft to the touch and warm thanks to his high body heat.

It felt good at first, until he playfully bit down on your lower lip--

With a loud gasp, you jerked back and made eye contact with the demon out of shock. Oh shit...

"Finally!" the love demon laughed as your heart fell to the floor.

He lunged forward and wrapped both of his arms around you, yanking you deep into his embrace as if he were a cage. The temperature seemed to rise rapidly in the tiny living room as the demon began to transport you to wherever he dwelled, and to wherever you knew he'd never let you leave.

"W-wait!" you tried to beg.

"It's too late for that, Darling," the love demon laughed. "You're mine and I'm going to enjoy my prize all night long. I love you, Darling, thank you so much for accepting me."

"If you acknowledge the love demon, they'll take you away to be theirs forever, with no hope of ever escaping them or their crazed love..."

[hxney-lemcn]

First Kiss — The Leftovers x gn! reader

summery: your first kiss with your lover.

tw: none.

a/n: I wasn't sure what to call the students who aren't vice/housewardens so now they're deemed the leftovers (sorry Cater 😔). Also, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

wc: 2.6k (~340 per character)

Master List | Housewardens | Vicehousewardens

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cater Diamond

The atmosphere was warm and soft as you both were hanging out in Cater’s room, is what I would like to say, but it was anything but that. You and Cater decided to have a ‘picnic’ (it wasn’t planned, you both bought your lunches and went to eat in the courtyard) and apparently your confession was a little too hot. What did your blabbermouth happen to say (was it really a blabbermouth if you were just telling a trusted friend something personal)? Well, you happened to let slip that you haven’t had your first kiss yet, and for some reason Cater couldn’t wrap his head around that. He didn’t seem to know how to react, mouth opening and closing as he doubted your sentence. You were so pretty and he found himself falling for you so easily, so the thought of no one else seeing you the way he does left him flabbergasted. And the juicy gossip he was (he just needed to understand this better), he kept prying; ‘weren’t you curious?’ yes, ‘has no one asked to?’ no, ‘has no one asked you out?’ no. That last went sent him on a whole other spiral, but he tried to store that in his head for another time. By the end of his little interrogation, he felt frustrated for you. And sevens, that bashful, saddened look made his heart plummet, and gosh did he want to kiss you silly, to prove whatever false things were rattling in your mind at that moment were wrong, and it seemed that Cater’s control was slipping, the suggestion spilling past his lips before he could stop it; ‘we could kiss, just so you know what it feels like.’ His heart leapt as you eyed him like you were actually pondering it, and that little nod of your head made his heart race. The kiss was soft, hesitant, unsure, but sweet. Hands were kept to themselves, unsure how far you were both willing to cross the line, and as you pulled away, the both of you could only long for more.

“W-well, if th-there’s any other firsts you want to break, caycay’s always here~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Deuce Spade

The both of you just had the most spectacular date, you had a ton of fun and Deuce seemed to enjoy himself as well. The boy had been a blushing mess, tripping over words and trying to be as gentlemanly as possible, and you were eating up the cute display. He had argued that he couldn’t let you walk home alone, and so there you stood, on your doorstep just a few inches taller than normal. Deuce watched diligently, like there was a chance you would get hurt in the two steps it would take you to get inside (after what you experienced on campus it was a very real fear). You smiled softly at the dark haired boy, thanking him for the wonderful date. In return he managed to blush once more, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to formulate a proper response. So, to tease the poor guy some more, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, watching on in amusement as Deuce seemed to shut down. You hid your cheeky grin behind your hand as he spluttered, trying to say something, but he managed to cut you off guard as he stared in wonder, face a bright red, muttering out ‘could…could you do that again?’. Who were you to deny him? Holding his cheeks, you placed another kiss, this time on the corner of his lips before you found yourself showering his entire face in kisses. You weren’t sure where all this affection was coming from, but neither of you were complaining. As you pulled away once more, you bit your lip before acting on impulse and leaving the lightest, barely there peck on his lips.

“I-I…u-uh…th-thank you. I…I hope we can go on another date…soon.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ace Trappola

You were rightfully pissed. Ace had been teasing you nonstop about how ‘nobody wanted to date you’, and honestly? It was starting to get under your skin, your old (and normal) insecurities popping up once more. You have been working on it! And just like that he had erased your hard work in improving your mental health. And so what were you doing? Giving him the silent treatment. If he was going to be a jerk then you were going to ignore him. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle it, as Ace had been finding any and every way to get on your nerves. You clenched your fist as Ace continued to poke your cheek. You were either going to bite his finger off or twist his arm behind his back if he was going to keep this up. It wasn’t until he asked the dreaded question; ‘what did he do to get you so angry?’ The dam had been broken, and you found yourself venting all your frustrations on him, from his insults to how it affected you, it was all released. The look of horror on the ginger’s face made you feel somewhat satisfied. You were a bit surprised when he apologized so heartfeltly, he genuinely looked appalled at his own behavior for once. It was only a few weeks later when things took a turn. Ace was sleeping at your dorm, and the two of you were hanging out when he asked an out of pocket question; ‘do you wanna kiss?’ It was late, he was too tired to keep his filter up, and gosh did you look kissable (it was the main reason why he was teasing you in the first place). Against your better judgment, you agreed. The kiss was awkward, neither of you sure how far to go, but you’re kinda angry at how much you liked it.

“...you’re better at that than I thought…n-not that I think of kissing you or anything-”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jack Howl

You watched the weirdo in front of you with a blank face, wishing you could be anywhere but there. This guy decided he wanted to flirt with you, and he was doing it in the worst way possible. I mean who tries to pick someone up by asking to kiss them outright? You kept glancing at Jack, who stood intimidatingly next to you, buff arms crossed as he glared at the guy, but made no move to say anything. You felt a sneer fall over your lips unconsciously as the guy continued to try and shoot his shot, couldn’t he see he was getting nowhere? You tried to let him down nicely before, so this time you decided to be more blunt, stating that you weren’t interested and you don’t just go out kissing people. That was when the guy lashed out, crying out about how you were a jerk, that you were just like everyone else who only cared about themselves. It was when he looked like he was reaching out for you, and you flinched back for Jack to step in (quite literally). Standing in front of you his glare turned dangerous, fangs showing as he snarled, telling the guy to get lost. The both of you finally relaxed when the guy scrambled to get away, leaving you with the wolf beastman. ‘Thank you,’ You muttered, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. A smug smile tugged at your lips as Jack glanced away, a soft pink dusting his tanned cheeks. ‘Oh, did I miss?’ you teased, eyes catching the way his ear twitched. So, as the merciful person you were, you leaned up and left a small, short, gentle kiss to his lips.

“Hm, i-if you find yourself in need of help, d-don’t be afraid to come to me.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Floyd Leech

You had already found yourself in a tough predicament. You were in the clutches of Floyd Leech when he was in a bad mood. Sure, he was the one who sought you out to squeeze, but you wanted to make sure you didn’t make it worse in any way. So you resigned yourself to your fate as his personal human plushie as he squeezed you from time to time, burying his face in your neck as he grumbled on unintelligently about one thing and another. You brushed your hands through his hair, placing small kisses to the top of his head here and there, feeling relieved as he started to melt in your hold, teeth scraping against your skin as he smiled. You shivered at the sensation, hair on end once more. ‘Oh shrimpy~’ he cooed, giggling like a mad man, face suddenly very much in your own. ‘I wanna kiss’. The request was simple, blunt, but it still left you reeling. You weren’t sure why, in fact, you should be surprised it took so long for him to ask for one, but you still found your eyes widening and breath hitching at the spontaneity of it all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it (you suppose that was the appeal to Floyd). You could barely get out the words okay before Floyd pressed his lips to yours in a harsh manner, teeth clashing, lips being bit, hand on the back of your head so you couldn’t pull away. In fact, he wouldn’t stop kissing you, it seemed like forever until he finally got his fill.

“Hehe, you better watch out shrimpy~ I’m already craving another.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Epel Felmier

Your eyes widened as you eyed the intricately carved apple, turning it around to catch every detail. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve such a gift, but you were flattered nonetheless, your eyes finally raising up to meet Epel’s cyan ones. He looked bashful, cheeks tinted a light pink, eyes unable to meet your own. He tripped over his words, trying to make an excuse, stating that no one else was around so you might as well have it (you’ll ignore the fact that there were, in fact, people swarming around the cafeteria like flies). Without a second thought, you gave him a short peck on the cheek and continued business as usual. It wasn’t until Epel kept doing things for you, something that had only recently started. Epel…wasn’t mean by any means, but he also wasn’t one to help someone from the kindness of his heart. Sure, he’d do something for you before while complaining a ton, but recently he had been doing things without you even asking! It was strange, and he always seemed expectant afterwards, like he was expecting you to do something. Not to mention the little pout he thought he hid when you didn’t seem to do what he was anticipating. So, you decided to confront him, asking him outright what he wanted. Of course, he deflected, stating that he didn’t want anything and you were being crazy. A claim he wasn’t able to hide behind for long as you pointed out all the strange ways he’s been acting. Face burning red, Epel turned away, trying to keep his composure, but you seemed to be determined to break it. Your serious gaze locked onto his figure, there was no getting away from this now. And so, he admitted meekly that he wanted a kiss, and who were you to deny him? With a playful grin, you placed a kiss to his lips, reveling in the way he pushed against you like he was desperate (he had been waiting for this for so long). Pulling away, you teased that he only needed to ask if he wanted another kiss.

“I-I…d-damn, fine…do ya think we could do that again?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Silver Vanrouge

A warm breeze tousled Silver’s white locks, his steel grey eyes hidden behind his shut eyelids. His head rested in your lap, face pressed into your thighs. Squirrels and song birds fluttered around you, a small chickadee nestled on the top of your head. It was peaceful, a nice change of pace from your usual chaotic days. As beautiful as the scenery was around you, with green grass fluttering in the wind and colorful flowers swaying about, your gaze couldn’t help but fall down to the occupant in your lap. How his lashes kissed his cheeks, how the sun made his hair shine, how soft his skin was under the pads of your fingers. Silver has become the most breathtaking sight in your eyes, and the bird that roosted in your hair seemed to agree as it let out a soft series of cheeps that smoothed into a blissful melody. You couldn’t help but think about how much better your life has become once he entered your life, how sweet and protective he was, how sassy he could be when his father made an offer to cook. You had come to love all his quirks, how he could drift off to sleep in even the loudest environment or how he’d try to stay up just for you. Unable to hold your affections in for much longer, you placed a kiss against his cheek, heart fluttering when Silver’s lips tugged into a smile. So what else would you do besides lavish his face in sweet kisses? His eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help the huge grin that fell on your lips as he looked up at you affectionately. You greeted him with a kiss to the corner of his lips, a cheesy good morning following. The way he stared at you made your heart flutter and stomach tie in knots, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sleepily, Silver followed your lips without a second thought connecting them in a warm kiss before pulling away sharply, eyes wide as he apologized for not asking for consent, only to be shut up by your lips meeting once more.

“So it's not a dream…thank you.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sebek Zigvolt

You felt your eye twitch, trying your hardest to keep your composure. It felt like one step forward ten steps backwards when it came to Sebek. You thought you’d finally got to him in some way, only for him to be shouting at you once more for the same thing the next day. Which was happening right now, with him yelling at you about being some lowly human. Just the other day you had a one on one about how those comments hurt you, and he seemed to genuinely understand, so why the hell was he shouting at you again. You had tried throwing insults back, you had tried communicating like a mature person, you had even slapped him once and stormed away in tears! What the hell did you need to do to get through to this hard headed crocodile? Your glare turned sharp as Sebek continued, rambling on about one thing or another. Your exasperation taking over, you grabbed his tie, pulling his face close to yours as you sneered. You were so upset, you didn’t even notice how your noses were touching, instead tearing into Sebek instead. You also didn’t realize how Sebek turned silent, golden green eyes locked onto your figure, cheeks slowly but surely turning bright red. You let out a huff as your rant ended, raising an eyebrow at the half fae’s current state, then suddenly it clicked and an evil grin upturned your lips. Curling your fingers around his tie, you inched your face even closer (somehow), lips hovering over the other. You debated if you should do the evil thing, pull away and leave him hanging, but you also had the urge to kiss him stupid…letting your own desires win, you pushed your lips together in a heated kiss. Sebek was stiff as a board, but slowly melted into the kiss, only for you to pull away, biting his lip in the process.

“Wh-where are you going, human! You cannot k-kiss a knight and walk away without an explanation! H-hey! W-wait up-”

[nanivinsmoke]

american wedding.

heavily influenced by frank ocean’s song.

summary: when your past interferes with your future, your heart decides for you.

cw: toji x fem!reader, 18+ smut reader is getting married, affair, reader is in her mid twenties, toji’s in his early forties, rough sex, kissing, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, etc….

an: lowkey hate this but im back!

fuck.

you knew you fucked up. big time.

but, you couldn’t stop yourself. you were already too far gone and besides, you didn’t want him to stop.

when toji showed at your wedding, you were confused. the two of you broke up months ago. you weren’t on the same terms. you wanted to get married and have kids and he….he didn’t. you two had a big ass fight, saying hurtful words to each other, before you stormed out of his life—and into the arms of another man. your husband.

you hadn’t thought about him one bit. liar. toji plagued your mind daily. you thought about him nonstop, even when you and your new man were intimate. you heart was forever his. and it didn’t surprise you to see how you ended up in his grasp again.

toji pulled you off to a room during your reception. you were glad everyone was distracted where they didn’t see you run off with your ex. and hopefully they would stay distracted while his hands roamed your body.

the white mini dress that you changed into was discarded and tossed somewhere in the room, while he kissed from your lips down to your breasts. he stopped to take a look at you, appreciating the change your body made. hips got wider. ass got plumper and your thighs matched. toji couldn’t help but to shake his head, which made you raise an eyebrow.

“what?” you asked, staring right into his dark blue eyes. “nun, just appreciating how good you look. damn,” he bit his lip and took one more look at you before removing your matching white lace set. toji reattached his lips with yours while his right hand slid down to your cunt; immediately playing with your wetness.

“shit, mama’s. forgot how wet you could get.” his lewd words had your knees buckling and your nipples hardening even more. you met his touch by grinding your pussy in his palm, wetting it up by the second.

the way your body reacted to him, let alone his touch was astounding. you were his desperate just marrying another man.

each time you grinding against his palm, your clit throbbed and more of your essence dripped out, coating his hand completely. the sound of your wetness filled the room along with the soft sounds moans. you wanted to keep quiet, but this felt way too good.

he knew you were gonna cum. from the way you started to pick up the pace & grabbed on his sleeve a little tighter. “go ahead mama. make a mess.” and on command you let go and gushed all over his hand, squirting a little bit as well.

you were panting, body hot, waiting for him to drop his pants and stick it in you. you needed it bad. “please……—i need it.” hearing you beg for it, turned toji on even more. not wasting anytime, given the circumstances you both were in, he pulled his slacks down and his underwear—revealing his fat cock.

the pool of precum hanging from his tip had drooling and you wanted to suck it so bad. however, she started to drool some more. he held up your leg even higher and angled his tip right at your entrance, purposely sliding across your clit, making a soft moan escape your plump lips.

“fuck, toji. stop tea—oh my fuck!”

a smirk was etched on his face once he pushed himself inside of you, groaning at how tight and wet you felt, walls clinging to his dick immediately. toji thought about taking it slow with you, letting you get used to his size again, but he couldn’t. you felt way too good.

he was stretching you out with each stroke. it felt so good, you felt it all over your body and the way he was fucking you nearly brung you to tears. hopefully your makeup won't be ruined.

toji moved his hands and placed them on your fat ass, gripping it as he repeatedly slammed himself inside of you. biting his shoulder, your moans were muffled while he made your pussy his once more. the sounds of skin slapping and your cunt squelching had him losing his mind—he was so close to bottoming out inside of you. fuck, he needed to. but, he wanted you to get yours once more.

you leaned back and looked into his eyes, looking at him while he fucked you. “fuckkkk….daddy. ‘so good. m’ gonna—“ before you could even get the rest of your words out, the two of you heard a knock at the door, halting both of your movements. reality and guilt took over you as you thought about your husband, who could possibly be on the other side of the door.

you looked at toji and then back at door, clearing your throat before you spoke. “kind of busy!”

“oh! girl where have you been? we’d been looking for you and it’s almost time to cut the cake!” you were relieved that person on the other side was your maid of honor, yuki. “wanted to check out my gifts—OH MY FUCK!” at that moment, toji decided to slam himself right back inside of you.

your eyes rolled back and your cunt fluttered, a moan threating to leave you lips. you looked at toji who wore a smug look on his face, before he continued his movements, mouthing for you to keep talking. “what the hell was that? you okay?” yuki asked and you whimpered softly, as his tip rubbed right against your spot.

“yeah! just seen….a gift I wanted. I’ll be out soon!” toji pulled out and swiftly turned you around, ass facing him while you faced the door, pounding your shit from the back. you were so, so, so close and you hoped she would walk away before you came.

“okay girl. I’ll tell them that you were fixing your makeup and that you’ll be coming out soon” as soon as you heard her heels fade in the background, toji reached around and played with your clit; causing you to finally let go and cum.

your mind went blank as you creamed all over his dick, legs almost giving out from the intensity of your orgasm. he didn’t stop fucking you though. his kept slamming his hard dick inside of you, until you felt him spurt his thick load inside of you. toji held onto you tightly, twitching inside of you until he finally pulled out, causing his load to slowly drip out of you.

grabbing your things, toji helped you get dressed before pulling you in a tight embrace. “run away with me.” his words caught you off guard, making your eyes widen. “w-what? toji i can’t—im married.”

“i love you. run away with me. can’t live without you.” you couldn’t believe it. was he actually serious?

he was. you saw it in his eyes.

and just like your heart wanted, you ran away with him. leaving your husband alone to be with the man who always had your heart.

[kathlare]

uncharted waters

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie grapples with a late period and mounting anxiety, unsure if she's pregnant.

Wordcount: 2.3 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

February 22nd, 2025 - Los Angeles, CA

The Los Angeles sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Amelie’s bedroom, casting soft golden light across the bed she hadn’t moved from in the last hour. Her phone lay on the nightstand, face down, ignored. She had been staring at the ceiling, one hand resting on her stomach, the other anxiously twisting the edge of the blanket between her fingers.

Her period was late. Almost two weeks late.

At first, she had convinced herself it was stress. She had been traveling, working nonstop, barely sleeping. It had to be stress. But then the nausea started, creeping in during the mornings, lingering throughout the day. At first, she thought it was food poisoning or jet lag, but when it didn’t go away, something inside her started to spiral.

She wasn’t ready for this. They weren’t ready for this.

Her stomach twisted, and she groaned, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes before blindly reaching for her phone. Her fingers shook as she scrolled through her contacts, hovering over Lando’s name. She wanted to call him, tell him everything, hear his voice, let him calm her down like he always did. But he was in Bahrain, starting pre-season testing, and she knew if she called him sounding even slightly off, he’d worry. He’d want to fly back immediately, and she could not deal with that right now. Not until she knew for sure.

Instead, she scrolled further, her pulse hammering in her throat as she tapped on Chandler’s name.

—Ames?— Chandler answered on the first ring, her voice groggy. Amelie glanced at the clock—barely past nine. Right. Chandler wasn’t a morning person.

—I need you to do something for me,— Amelie blurted, ignoring the way her throat felt tight, how her skin felt too hot despite the chill in the room.

A pause. Then, —Are you okay?—

—I just need you to go to the store for me.— Her fingers curled around the blanket, gripping it so tightly her knuckles ached.

—What kind of store?— Chandler asked, but Amelie could already hear the shift in her tone—the sharpness, the alertness of someone waking up fast because they knew something was wrong.

Amelie swallowed hard, exhaling shakily before whispering, —A pharmacy.—

—Ames…— Chandler’s voice softened, the teasing edge she usually carried replaced by concern.

—I just need you to do it. Please,— Amelie whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

The silence stretched between them, the weight of what she was asking settling into the space. Amelie squeezed her eyes shut, her heart pounding so hard it drowned out everything else.

—Okay,— Chandler finally said, gentle but firm. —I’ll be there soon.—

Amelie barely mumbled a thank you before hanging up. She let the phone slip from her fingers, pressing both hands against her face as she tried to steady herself. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating.

She had spent the last few days pretending she wasn’t panicking. She had told herself over and over that it was nothing, that she was being ridiculous. But last night, lying awake in bed, she had started counting the days again. And the numbers weren’t adding up.

Lando had always been careful. They had always been careful. But nothing was foolproof, and the idea that maybe—maybe—one time had been enough sent her spiraling.

She could feel the anxiety clawing at her ribs, a relentless pressure that made it impossible to think straight. If she was pregnant—if she really was—what the fuck were they going to do?

She and Lando had talked about the future before, in a vague, dreamy kind of way. Kids were always a someday thing, far down the line when they had done everything they wanted to do first. When his racing career had settled. When she had the time to breathe between projects.

Not now. Not when everything was moving so fast.

Her stomach twisted again, but this time it had nothing to do with nausea.

She barely noticed when Chandler arrived, only realizing it when her bedroom door creaked open.

—I brought, like, five different kinds because I wasn’t sure which one was the best,— Chandler announced, setting a paper bag down on the bed beside her.

Amelie sat up slowly, her limbs feeling like lead.

—Thanks.—

Chandler hesitated before sitting down next to her, her expression careful.

—Are you okay?— Chandler asked quietly.

Amelie let out a sharp, humorless laugh, running a hand through her hair. —No. Not really.—

Chandler sighed, shifting closer so their shoulders touched. —Do you want me to stay while you take it?—

Amelie hesitated. She wanted to say no, to pretend she was strong enough to do this alone. But the truth was, her hands were already shaking, and she didn’t trust herself not to throw up before she even managed to take the test.

—Yeah,— she whispered. —Please.—

Chandler nodded and reached for the bag, pulling out the boxes and reading through the instructions. —Alright, let’s do this. Pee on the stick, wait five minutes, and then either freak out or breathe again.— She shot Amelie a wry smile, but her eyes were soft.

Amelie exhaled slowly, nodding before dragging herself to the bathroom. The moment she was alone, the walls felt like they were closing in.

She stared at the test in her hand, heart hammering so hard it echoed in her ears.

She could picture it too clearly—Lando’s face if she told him. The way his eyes would widen, his brows pulling together, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. He loved her. She knew that. But they were still young, still figuring things out. Would he be scared? Would he resent her?

Would she resent herself?

Her breath came in short gasps, her pulse erratic. She gripped the sink, forcing herself to inhale through her nose, out through her mouth.

She had to do this. There was no going back now.

With shaky hands, she did what she had to do and placed the test on the counter, stepping away from it like it might explode. Five minutes. Five minutes felt like an eternity. She clenched her hands into fists, pressing them against her thighs, trying to steady herself.

Her mind ran wild.

What if it was positive?

Would they keep it? Could they keep it?

Lando was in the middle of his career, still climbing, still proving himself. And her—God, she wasn’t ready to be a mother. She barely knew how to take care of herself most days. There were still so many things she wanted to do, so many places to go, so much of her life she hadn’t figured out yet.

Her chest tightened as a new wave of nausea hit her, but she didn’t know if it was from the anxiety or something else.

She felt like she was drowning in the unknown.

Chandler knocked softly. —You good in there?—

No. Absolutely not.

—Yeah.— Her voice was hoarse, but she didn’t trust herself to say more.

—How much time left?— Chandler asked, quieter this time.

Amelie swallowed, glancing at the timer on her phone. Two minutes.

Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and everything could change.

She leaned against the counter, gripping the edge as she forced herself to breathe. She wished Lando were here. Wished she could crawl into his arms and let him tell her it was all going to be okay. Because if there was one thing about Lando, it was that he never let her spiral too far before pulling her back. He’d joke, make her laugh, hold her tight, remind her that no matter what happened, they’d figure it out.

But he wasn’t here. And she didn’t even know if she wanted to tell him.

Her phone buzzed against the counter, and she flinched. Lando. Speak of the devil.

Lan🧡: Morning, baby. Hope you slept well. Call me when you wake up xx

She exhaled shakily, staring at the message for too long. Her fingers twitched, itching to reply, but she couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until she knew.

A long, slow beep rang from her phone. The timer.

Her heart stopped.

For a moment, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Chandler knocked again, voice hesitant. —Ames?—

Amelie forced herself forward, one foot in front of the other, her fingers icy cold as she reached for the test.

Negative.

She blinked, staring at the little screen, waiting for the result to change, for the universe to play some kind of trick on her. But it didn’t. It stayed the same.

Negative.

Her breath left her in a shuddering rush, her knees nearly buckling.

She wasn’t pregnant.

She wasn’t pregnant.

The relief should have hit her all at once, should have made her sag with the weight of it, but instead, something inside her twisted, something she didn’t want to name. Her throat ached, her vision blurred.

She wasn’t pregnant.

But then why did she feel like crying?

She opened the door, and Chandler took one look at her face before pulling her into a hug.

—It’s negative,— Amelie whispered, her voice breaking.

Chandler exhaled against her hair. —Oh, honey.—

Amelie let out a shaky laugh, swiping at her eyes. —I don’t even know if I’m happy or not. I feel so fucking stupid.—

—You’re not stupid.— Chandler pulled back just enough to look at her. —You were scared. And that’s okay. It’s a lot.—

Amelie nodded, chewing on her lip.

—Did you want it to be positive?— Chandler asked, gentle but curious.

Amelie hesitated.

—No,— she said, but the word didn’t come as easily as she thought it would.

Chandler gave her a knowing look. —It’s okay if you don’t know how to feel. Just because you weren’t ready doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have been a thing.—

Amelie swallowed hard, nodding as she wiped at her damp cheeks. She wasn’t ready. She knew that. But some part of her—a tiny, stupid part—had still felt something at the thought of it.

She wasn’t even sure what that something was.

Chandler squeezed her hand. —You wanna lie down for a bit? Or do you need a distraction?—

Amelie let out a weak laugh. —I don’t even know.—

—Okay. Well, you’re not gonna sit here and spiral. Let’s eat something. I’ll make you food.—

—You don’t know how to cook,— Amelie pointed out, her voice hoarse.

—Fine. I’ll order something and pretend I cooked it. Same thing.—

That got a real laugh out of Amelie, even if it was quiet.

She let Chandler pull her into the kitchen, let her talk about the most ridiculous things to keep her from thinking too much. And for a little while, it worked. But the moment Amelie was left alone, her mind wandered.

By the time the afternoon sun slanted across the floor, her chest felt hollow with exhaustion.

And then, as if he could sense it from halfway across the world, Lando called.

She stared at her phone for a moment before swiping to answer.

—Hey,— she said, trying to sound normal.

—Hey, baby.— His voice was warm, a little raspy like he’d just woken up from a nap. —Tried calling earlier. You alright? You’ve been a little… I don’t know. Off?—

Amelie closed her eyes, pressing her fingers against her temple. Of course he’d noticed. He always did.

—Yeah, just tired. Been feeling a little sick lately.—

Lando hummed. —Still? Thought you said it was just jet lag.—

She hesitated. —Yeah. Probably. Nothing serious.—

—Ames.— His voice softened in a way that made her stomach twist. —What’s going on?—

She swallowed hard. She could brush it off. She should brush it off. But the weight in her chest was too much.

—Lan, I…— Her throat tightened, and before she could stop herself, her voice broke.

Silence. Then a sharp inhale.

—Hey, hey,— he said quickly, his voice urgent now. —What’s wrong? Talk to me, love.—

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her lips to keep the sob from escaping, but it didn’t work. A shuddering breath rattled out of her.

—Amelie, you’re scaring me.—

—I thought I was pregnant,— she whispered.

Lando’s sharp inhale was immediate.

—I just took a test. It’s negative.— She let out a wet laugh, wiping at her face even as the tears kept coming. —I don’t know why I’m crying. I should be relieved. I am relieved. But also… I don’t know, Lan. I don’t fucking know.—

Lando was silent for a moment, his breathing uneven through the speaker. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than she had ever heard it.

—Oh, baby.—

That was all it took to break her completely. She covered her mouth, another sob escaping.

—Why am I like this? Why does my brain have to make everything so fucking complicated?—

—Because it’s big, Ames. It’s not just something you brush off.—

—But we’re not ready,— she said desperately, like she was trying to convince herself. —We have so much shit going on. You’re in the middle of your career, I’m still working so much, we’re so young. It would’ve been… it would’ve been bad. Right?—

Lando hesitated. —It would’ve been… hard. But not bad.—

She blinked. —What?—

—Not bad,— he repeated, voice steady. —Hard, yeah. Probably fucking terrifying. But, Ames, if it had been positive, we would’ve figured it out. We always do.—

Her breath hitched.

—And yeah, we’re young. We have a lot of things we still wanna do. But that doesn’t mean we’d be bad at it. It doesn’t mean we wouldn’t be good.—

Her heart squeezed.

—I just…— She took a shaky breath. —I didn’t wanna tell you. I was scared you’d freak out. I mean, you love kids, but you’re still racing and, fuck, Lando, I just didn’t know how you’d react.—

Lando let out a breath, a mix of exasperation and affection.

—Ames. I’m not gonna pretend I wouldn’t have panicked at first. But I wouldn’t have left you to deal with it alone. I’d have been right there, okay?—

Her chin wobbled.

—You’re mine, love. You think I wouldn’t do whatever it takes to make sure we’re okay?—

—Lan.— Her voice broke again.

—I wish I was there with you.— His voice was rough. —I fucking hate that you had to go through this alone.—

—I wasn’t alone. Chandler was here.—

Lando let out a small laugh. —Alright, fair. Chandler’s good. But she’s not me.—

—No, she’s not you,— Amelie murmured.

There was a pause before Lando spoke again, quieter this time.

—Did you… did you want it to be positive?—

She hesitated.

—No. But also… I don’t know.—

—Okay.—

—Okay?—

—Yeah.— He exhaled. —It’s okay not to know, baby. It’s okay to be scared, even if it wasn’t what you wanted. It’s a big thing. It means something.—

Her eyes burned again.

—But for the record,— Lando continued, —whenever that day comes, whether it’s years from now or whenever, you’re gonna be fucking incredible, Ames. And I’ll be right there with you. Always.—

She let out a watery laugh. —You’d be a menace as a dad.—

Lando snorted. —You mean fun as a dad.—

—Menace.—

—Well, if our kid gets my chaos and your attitude, we’re fucked either way.—

That actually made her laugh, a real one this time.

Lando hummed. —There’s my girl. Missed your laugh.—

She wiped at her face, her heart aching in that stupid, overwhelming way it always did when it came to him.

—I miss you,— she whispered.

—I miss you too, love. So much.—

Silence stretched between them, not awkward or heavy, just there. A quiet understanding.

—Maybe we shouldn’t have sex for a while,— Amelie joked, her voice still a little shaky.

Lando’s response was immediate and dramatic. —What? Absolutely not! That’s a terrible idea. Who even are you?—

She laughed, a genuine, warm sound that filled the space between them. —Someone who just had a mini-freakout about potentially being pregnant, Lan. Maybe we should take it easy.—

—Take it easy?— He scoffed, the sound laced with playful disbelief. —Ames, we’re like, the most sexually compatible people I know. Taking it easy is not in our vocabulary.—

—Oh, shut up,— she said, rolling her eyes despite him not being able to see her. —We’re ridiculous.—

—Ridiculously perfect,— he corrected, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. —And ridiculously horny. Let’s be honest.—

Amelie blushed, even though she knew he was just trying to make her laugh. —You’re incorrigible.—

—And you love it,— he countered, the playful grin practically audible in his voice. —Besides, you’d miss my… enthusiasm.—

—Enthusiasm?— she repeated, her voice laced with playful skepticism. —Is that what we’re calling it now?—

—What else would we call it?— he asked, feigning innocence. —My unwavering dedication to your pleasure?—

She let out a snort. —You’re impossible.—

—But I’m your impossible,— he said, his voice softening again. —And I’m not going anywhere, Ames. Not through this, not through anything. We’ll figure it out, whatever it is. Always.—

Amelie felt a wave of warmth spread through her, chasing away the last lingering shadows of her anxiety.

—I know,— she whispered. —I know you will.—

—Good. Now, tell me about your day. Did you eat anything other than Chandler’s questionable cooking skills?—

She chuckled, recounting the rest of her day, the small details, the little moments that made up her life. He listened intently, his responses peppered with teasing remarks and genuine concern.

As they talked, the weight in her chest began to lift, replaced by a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in days. Lando had that effect on her. Always had. Even from thousands of miles away, he could make her feel like everything was going to be okay.

—You know,— she said, interrupting his story about a particularly frustrating testing session, —I really do miss you.—

—I know, baby. I miss you too. More than you know.— His voice was soft, vulnerable. —I’ll be back before you know it. Then we can… you know… make up for lost time.—

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. —You’re unbelievable.—

—Unbelievably in love with you,— he countered, his voice earnest. —And unbelievably ready to see you again.—

—Me too, Lan,— she whispered, her eyes drifting closed. —Me too.—

They talked for another hour, the conversation drifting from lighthearted banter to whispered confessions. By the time they finally hung up, the sun had set in Los Angeles, casting long shadows across her bedroom.

Amelie lay in bed, a soft smile playing on her lips. She still felt a little raw, a little shaken, but the anxiety had receded, replaced by a sense of peace.

She wasn’t ready for a baby. Not yet. But she knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her bones, that when the time came, she and Lando would face it together. They would figure it out, just like they always did.

And maybe, just maybe, they’d even be good at it.

She drifted off to sleep, the sound of Lando’s laughter echoing in her ears, a comforting reminder that no matter what happened, they had each other. And that, she realized, was more than enough.

[misserabella]

gonna need an abby version of your ‘sexting ellie williams’ fics bc god am i obsessed with that woman

a/n; you ask and you shall receive

sexting with gf! abby! ♡

pt2

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, sexting, drinking (reader is in a party and drunk), description of a video of reader touching herself, abby being as cocky as ever, top! abby, bottom! reader, fingering, praising, oral sex (r receiving), cum eating, making out, allusions of sex with strap…

3:24 AM

abs

abssssss

abbyyyyy

sht abayuyyy

abby groaned as her phone buzzed nonstop, reaching for it and squinting her eyes at the screen’s light. she took a peak at the hour. holy fuck. 3AM?

baby? what the hell? why are you up this late?

partyyyy

u’re at a party rn? bfr

yessss. owen’s

i’m gonna kill him. why did he let you drink this much?

i’m not deinkkk

you’re definitely drunk, doll. i’m gonna go get you, alright? stay put wherever u are and don’t move.

no no lsten, i have something impurtabt to telll u

what is it?

ik i’m drunk rn but in gunna marry you

you’re gonna marry me?

abby was laughing at your texts. yes, she was worried you had been drinking, but you were at owen’s and you were safe. and it was so fucking fun to watch you try and type correctly.

yes

i’m marryin u

even if you r meanb

me? when have i been mean to you baby?

rn

right now?

yeahh, ‘cause tou’re sooooj beautiful

all i fan think about are your lips rn

why r u not heyre?

okay. you’re really drunk, baby, why don’t you wait for me and we talk about this when i get there, hm?

no.

u r gonna take sooooiii long

you’ve pretty eyesX

they look so good when u go down on me

abby’s eyes widened, and her whole body seemed to burn. shit.

yeah? they look good princess?

mmmh

want u

and you’re so far away rn it’s nor fair

that was a fucking lie. abby was already on the road to get there. shit. she loved it when you went all needy on her. and when you were drunk? you had no filter. always screaming and moaning so loud she sometimes would have to muzzle you to not have the neighbors knocking on her door.

oh baby, why don’t you come here and sit on my face? my tongue will say sorry for me

your cheeks flushed, and your cunt throbbed. you loved it when she’d make you sit on her face, her tongue unrelenting on fucking you over and over again until you wouldn’t cum anymore. you needed her. and you needed her right now. the bathroom you had gone in felt suddenly too hot and your panties too sticky. you hissed when your fingers pushed in them, feeling just how wet you had become for her. you couldn’t help but plunge a finger inside your tight hole. of course, your fingers weren’t as near as largue and thick as abby’s, but you needed something until she’d get there and do it for you.

csn i tell u s secret?

ofc princess, what is it?

i’m fucking my pussy rn

jesus christ. abby almost hit the breaks. almost crashed when you send her a video of —now— two of your fingers fucking inside your tight and squelching walls. she could hear your little whimpers and pants.

couldnt wair abymore

i need you so bad abby pkease

shit. writing with only one hand and drunk wasn’t that easy. you were whimpering and moaning as you fingered yourself on the bathroom of owen’s party. you thanked god the music was loud enough to muffle your sounds, ‘cause you surely couldn’t swallow them back inside.

abby was exceeding the speed limit to get there, practically parking on top of owen’s lawn as she jumped out of the car, running towards the house.

where.

bathroom

she didn’t even say hi to owen as she passed right through him, her blood boiling as she ran upstairs and swung the door open. you hadn’t even locked it. fucking hell.

abby almost went down on her knees when she saw you sitting on the toilet’s lid with a hand buried in between your thighs and your phone on the other, your chat open and showing on the screen. your senses came back to you as you heard the lock turning, and you moaned when you saw her.

did i say almost? abby had never been quicker to kneel down, her strong arms pushing your legs on top of her shoulders to move your hand away and, after cleaning up your fingers with her tongue, hurriedly burying her face in your cunt. your back arched, and you let out a scream that made her groan, lapping at your juices. you were so fucking wet…

“fuck, abby!” you cried out when she plunged her own fingers deep inside your cunt, easily finding your g spot.

she cooed. “my princess was just feeling needy. weren’t you, baby? poor thing. so horny for me couldn’t wait until i could get here. sending me a video of touching your tight little cunt just to tease me, didn’t you?” you whimpered, bucking your hips against her touch, your back arching.

“please abby… your mouth.” you begged.

“you want my mouth baby? want me to eat this soaked pretty pussy of yours?” you nodded, pleading for it, and she followed, her tongue meeting your clit and making you moan. “so fucking loud…” she groaned, starting to devour you to get out of you more or those pleasured sounds. she was starving. and you were falling apart, melting under her tongue.

“abby!” you screamed when her tongue fucked inside of you, her arms tugging from you to get closer, her nose nudging your clit. the alcohol made you feel dizzy, and the pleasure only seemed to grow and grow. you could feel it shocking through your body, her grunts making your body gave into her. you needed her.

“fuck, you look so fucking beautiful. need you bouncing on my cock baby.” you whimpered, nodding.

“yes please, abby, please, need you to fuck me.” you were a babbling mess, her tongue teasing you and making you squirm. she adored making you tremble, seeing you get more and more desperate for her to make you cum.

“yeah? need me to fuck you sweet girl? need me to to fuck your brains out?” you nodded, moaning, your chest heaving harshly, your thighs shaking at the sides of her head, your back arched when her fingers, three this time, plunged inside of you, abusing your g spot and making you see stars. “i will princess. but first you’re gonna cum on my tongue, isn’t that right?” your hands found her hair, tugging when she sucked down on your sensitive and puffy clit. “yeah, of course you are. you are squeezing my fingers so tight, fuck… you always take them so well baby. such a fucking good girl for me. can’t wait to see you taking my cock.“ you could feel the warmth on your stomach grow and grow.

“abby, i’m gonna…! i’m cumming!” you cried out, and she only fingered you faster, harder. it was imposible to describe. this feeling. her.

“go ahead baby, let me clean you all up.” she smirked, and with a last thrust and lick at your clit you were falling apart, making her groan when you pushed her face harder against your gushing cunt. you whited out.

she helped you ride it as your moans broke, your hips stuttering and your creamy white and salt cum painted her fingers. she moaned against you, cleaning it with her tongue and humming at the taste. there was nothing she loved more than giving you head.

once you’d calmed down and your breathing had evened out, she pulled her fingers out to push them inside her mouth. you whined as you watched her, with lips swollen and chin soaked in your juices.

“let’s get out of here.” she said, and you nodded, not before kissing her so deeply you left her as drunk and dizzy as you felt.

yeah. she was definitely gonna marry you.

….

LORD. that was filthy asf. i’m sorry… or nah.🤭

hope you enjoyed. remember to support your writers! <3

abby anderson masterlist! <3

xxx

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

67

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader Jack x teen!reader (all platonic)

Requested by @little-bug-butt

Synopsis: just some little shorts about the Impala being the best place on earth.

You turned the back of the Impala into your own personal sleeping quarters and got comfortable right away. Sam had dragged you out of bed far too early, insisting that it was time to move on, since the hunt was over. You had been asleep by the time the boys had gotten back from a quick vamp job, and they woke you after showering and getting about three hours of sleep.

Despite your grumpy exhaustion, the thrum of the Impala’s engine starting up brought a smile tugging at your lips. In most cases, sleeping in a car was incredibly uncomfortable, but not in the Impala. The backseat was large and fairly accommodating, and the purr of Baby’s engine was better than any lullaby.

It still wasn’t a bed, but it was warm and it was safe, and that was all you could ask for.

“Do you think we’re doing this right?” The sound of Sam’s whispering caught your attention, but you kept your eyes closed as you attempted to sleep.

“What, the job?” Dean asked. “We haven’t even gotten there yet.”

“No, not the job, Y/N.”

“What about her?” Dean’s voice dropped in volume.

“I mean, we’ve been going from job to job nonstop for a while now. I don’t wanna wear her out.”

“She’s fine, look at her. She’s out like a light.”

You struggled to hold back your smile at this. You hadn’t realized that your feigned sleep was so convincing.

“You sure? I mean she’s been kinda quiet lately.”

“I’m sure she’s just tired. She’s gonna be alright, we all are.”

“I just don’t wanna screw this up, you know? With dad gone, I’m not sure I know how to—“

“She doesn’t need a replacement for dad, Sam. Just be a good brother and she’ll be alright.”

The car lapsed into silence after that, and you found yourself drifting in and out of sleep until the sun began to rise. It was still early, and you were still tired, but you shifted in your seat to watch the sunrise anyway.

When Dean saw that you were awake, he reached up and turned on the radio. You craned your neck to see Sam dozing, but he could sleep through anything, so Dean’s Metallica tape wasn’t a problem.

Neither of you spoke to break the still, silent morning, but you still felt connected to your big brother as the two of you watched the sun cast it’s pinkish glow over the black hood of the Impala. The air was crisp, but the light of dawn brought with it a warm blanketing shine that brought an easy smile to your lips. You took a deep breath, and somewhere between Dean’s cologne and the smell of fast food you could smell the fresh air of the morning. Or, more likely than not, you were imagining it, and the only fresh smell was the little green tree air freshener that you had hung up to make the car smell better, and Dean had immediately taken off and flung into the backseat.

“Good morning,” Dean finally broke the silence, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “You doing ok?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “I’m doing just fine.”

…

“Ow! Cas, that’s my hand.”

“Sorry, but you’re in my space.”

“So not true! Jack, close the window.”

“But it’s hot in here.”

“If you kids don’t shut up, I’m going to turn this car around!” Dean snapped from the front seat.

“Did you call me a child?” Cas complained.

“No more talking, that’s the rule for the next hundred miles,” Dean grunted.

Sam said nothing, just smirking as Dean went to turn on the radio.

“What?” He snapped when he saw Sam’s face.

“Oh I’m not saying a word,” Sam said before sliding his fingers in front of his lips in a “zipping my lips” motion.

“Smart,” Dean grumbled, changing his mind on the radio and instead opting to watch the scenery.

After a few minutes silence became comfortable, and the five of you continued like that for hours. You were smashed up against the side of the Impala, Cas and Jack taking up most of the space, but once your leg went numb you could kind of ignore it.

The silence was peaceful, the most peace all of you had had in a while. You watched the sun dipped below the horizon with your head leaning against the cool glass of the window. Once the sun was down, however, you leaned back in your seat, resting your head against Castiel’s shoulder as you began to nod off. He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shift in his seat so that you could lean more comfortably on him. You didn’t often get this close to the angel, and if you’d been fully awake you would’ve probably been too self-conscious to take up so much of his personal space. But Cas didn’t mind, in fact he was almost flattered that you felt comfortable enough around him to sleep on him.

When the Impala reached its destination and Dean said, “Alright, let’s go,” he was surprised when Cas shushed him, gesturing to you.

“Should we—“

“Don’t wake her,” Sam said. “She hasn’t been sleeping too well lately. I’ll get her.”

“No I’ve got her,” Dean said, opening the backseat door and easing you away from Cas, lifting you easily into his arms.

“Cas?” You mumbled, stirring in Dean’s arms.

“Shh, go back to sleep kid.”

You didn’t argue, and within seconds you were dozing in Dean’s arms as he carried you into the motel room.

…

The five of you had to start early the next morning, but when Cas entered the room that you and your brothers were sharing, he found you still asleep.

“Can you get her up?” Dean called from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“Y/N?” You groaned as Cas shook your shoulder. “It’s time to go, c’mon.”

“I’ll stay here,” you mumbled before turning over and pulling your pillow over your head.

“I don’t think that’s an option,” Cas frowned.

“Cas,” Sam sighed. “You can’t wake her up like that.”

“Then how—“

“Alright, up!”

“Wait—“ you groaned as Sam grabbed your ankles and yanked you out of bed, an “oof!” Escaping you as you landed hard on your back.

“Let’s go,” Sam insisted, stepping over you to pack his bag.

“Jerk,” you grumbled as you started to get ready.

Twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, and the gentle lull of Baby’s engine had you dozing again.

“You sleep a lot,” you lifted your head at the sound of Jack’s voice, who was now sitting next to you instead of Cas.

“It’s the only way to cope though Dean’s playlist, if I was conscious I’d have to listen to it.”

“Hey, I can hear you!” Dean protested.

“Good, then maybe you’ll update your collection.”

The two of you bickered for a while before eventually giving up, and the car once again lapsed into comfortable silence. You leaned against the window, the purr of Baby’s engine and the miles of fields bringing a calm to you that you hadn’t been able to feel lately. It blanketed the car, creating a vortex of protection from the chaos that enthralled the lives of the people inside.

It felt as though as long as they were in the Impala, nothing could touch them. They were together, they were warm, and they were safe.

They were home.

[astridselixir]

"𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭. 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠."

Pairings: Yoru x fem!reader

Summary: After a stressful day filled with missions and nonstop training sessions which involved Brimstone yelling at everyone around, it was safe to say that you and Yoru were exhausted. So, as always, you two decided to let off some steam. And what better way to do that than to have his pretty lover, you, ride him?

Warnings: p in v, riding, use of pet names, bit of degradation, unprotected sex, breeding, porn w/o plot

(A/n: When I heard Yoru say this in a match, I just knew I had to write it. Istg, I go feral everytime this man speaks.)

(NSFW below the cut!)

ִ ࣪𖤐*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“That’s it. Keep going.” Yoru breathes out, hands tightly gripping your hips as you moved up and down on his length, whines and moans of pleasure escaping your lips every now and then. Such pretty sounds, he thinks. But then again, everything about you was pretty.

“Look at you. Fuck. Such a slut for my cock, hm?” You were far too out of it to even process what he said, so you only nodded, hoping you weren’t making a fool of yourself in front of him

Seeing this, he chuckles, squeezing your supple flesh reassuringly as he continues to watch you ride him, guiding you here and there. What a glorious sight; Yoru knew this image of you would be stuck in his head for days. He relished in the way you bounced on him, tits mimicking the movement of your hips as you lost yourself in pleasure. He wished he could stay in this moment forever, within the warmth of your gummy walls.

Your eyes were screwed shut, head thrown back with a fucked out expression painted across your face. One hand was firmly planted behind you, on top of Yoru’s leg as you straddled him while the other rubbed quick circles on your clit.

Fuck, you looked like a goddess. He was losing his mind over how heavenly you appeared to be as you played with yourself.

You could say this was your favorite part of the day; sexual tension finally getting released in the bedroom, relieving both you and Yoru. This is definitely what you both need after such a stressful day. A good fuck.

I mean, working as an agent for Valorant was stress itself alone. And it’s worse knowing either of you could get injured at any given moment, or maybe even die. But you try not to think about it too much as it would only make things worse.

As you both continued, it was as if fumes from your intimate activity were clouding the entire room, creating an atmosphere of sex and need. One that felt warm and moist on your skin, added with a bit of familiarity.

“F-fuck. ‘m close, so close.” You uttered out, hips desperately grinding on Yoru’s to reach that sweet climax you’ve been working so hard for.

Hearing this, he bites his bottom lip, forcing a stop to your movements which earned a frustrated exhale from you. You opened your eyes, vision slightly hindered by tears as you turned to look at him. You tilted your head to the side, shifting in your position while giving him a look of confusion.

The agent only chuckled at this, amused by your frustration. He enjoyed seeing you suffer— it was a guilty pleasure of his. He rubbed small comforting circles onto the skin of your hips before answering,

“Come here, my love. You’ve done so much work already, let me take care of the rest.”

The minute those words left his mouth, butterflies exploded in your stomach, an even warmer sensation coating your already hot cheeks. You nodded eagerly as you moved, leaning down and wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his skin and planting soft kisses on it. He in response, smiled at this, kissing the side of your head before placing his hands on your back, rubbing it soothingly and getting into a comfortable position— one that he can easily thrust into.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, tucking away a strand of hair behind your ear.

Just when you were about to respond, you were cut off when Yoru slammed his hips into yours, the tip of his cock instantly kissing your cervix, causing your mouth to hang open and your eyes to roll back. The words died down on your throat, getting replaced by a loud moan that was both from surprise and pleasure as he practically drilled into your dripping cunt.

Babbles of his name rolled off of your tongue like a prayer, nails digging into his skin as you mewled, the sensation becoming almost too much to bear.

Oh, you were so close. So close that you were practically hovering over the edge. All you needed now was just something to push you off, and luckily for you, Yoru knew exactly how to do that.

Tears slipped out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you sobbed, begging the man beneath you to let you cum.

“Wanna cum so bad. Please, please, please. Please let me cum.” You cried out, your whole body shaking as Yoru continued his abuse on your wet heat.

He smirked upon hearing your words, holding you tighter against him, his hands leaving marks on your hips that will surely bruise tomorrow.

“Aww, my little princess wants to cum? Go on then. Make a mess on my cock like the whore you are.” He cooed, both amusement and mockery evident on his tone. He loved seeing you like this. A literal begging mess that was ready to be picked up and pieced back together. He swears he cums almost instantly when he hears that cute, little voice of yours plead for his approval.

That was all you needed to reach your peak. It felt as if you toppled over the edge, a burst of ecstasy shooting throughout your body like electricity, sending aftershocks and waves of euphoria to ripple through your whole being. You let out an almost pornographic moan, sending the man beneath you over the edge as well.

Yoru moaned as he shot thick ropes of cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim and coating your velvety walls white. He continued to sloppily thrust, pushing his seed deeper and making sure it wasn’t dripping out. He wasn’t allowing even a single drop to go to waste.

Oh, fuck. The sole image of you swelled with his child made his eyes roll back, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of getting you pregnant. If that were to happen, he’d surely be overjoyed. But of course, he’ll always leave that choice up to you.

After that, you both stayed still, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down from your previous high. You were exhausted, sweaty, and satisfied. You couldn’t have thought of any better way to end this day.

“I love you…” You murmured, words slighty incoherent, but you’ve been with Yoru long enough for him to know exactly what you said. Your eyes slowly closed, a sigh of contentment leaving your lips while his hand smoothed over your back, occasionally tracing shapes on your skin to help you fall asleep faster.

Once Yoru was sure you were knocked out, he slowly pulled out and gently laid you down on the bed. He then got up, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before going into the bathroom to grab a damp towel. He also grabbed clean clothes for you to change into before walking back to the bed.

He sat down on the edge, admiring your sleeping form for a while and the peaceful look you had on your face. God, you were so beautiful (he lost count of how many times he said that already), he adored every single thing about you. From your curves to your beauty marks, everything. You were the sheer image of perfection in his eyes. No one could ever compare to you. A literal supermodel could be in the same room as him, yet he’d only have his eyes on you.

Shortly after ogling over your beauty, Yoru got to work and began wiping you down. He made sure you were as clean as possible before changing you into the clean undergarments he brought. He also took off the sheets and threw them in the laundry basket, not bothering to put on new ones since he was too tired and didn’t want to disrupt your slumber.

Once he was done, he got under the covers and pulled you into his embrace, giving you one last kiss on the forehead as you snuggled closer to him. He smiled once he felt this, causing him to think that you were seeking his warmth— you were. That alone was enough to reassure Yoru, allowing him to drift off to sleep with his mind at ease.

(A/n: Alrightyy, I just needed to finish this one so I could finally start working on the requests I have! Thank you sm to all the anons that sent me requests! I love y’all 🫵🤍 Hope you guys have/had a great day‼️🎊)

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

I don't mind (leeminho)

It wasn't the first time you and Minho had gotten a little carried away while making out. A quick peck on the lips while watching a movie on the couch had suddenly turned into a full on make out session that had the two of you scrambling upstairs, limbs intertwined and messy hair and and hands all over the place and really ... who could blame you?

You two had officially started dating only fairly recently but the more time you spent with him the more you wanted him all to yourself. Especially on some of his days off when the both of you felt way too lazy and too cozy to leave the house and would just hang out in your comfy sweats and drink tea while watching random shit on Netflix.

The thing is: even at his most relaxed and cozy, bare faced and untamed hair, your boyfriend looked exceptionally good. It was almost like his chill, quiet aura and casual look made him even more attractive in your eyes, like he was just there, existing in hot.

This time around there was something just so irresistible about his dark, fluffy and slightly messy hair and tired eyes and the way he had been repeatedly stroking your arm and the outline of your hip while you were staring at the screen, that it had all just made you want him so bad.

So there you were, straddling his lap as he sits on the edge of his bed, hands now firmly grabbing your bum, now moving your tangled hair away from your face as he hungrily kissed you and you tipped your head back is if to give him easier access and control, feeling your insides getting progressively warmer and tinglier with each and every of his moves.

You roll your hips gently, eliciting a low rumble in his throat as he reluctantly stops kissing you, wild eyes and short breath fanning your face as he slips his fingers past the hem of your shirt and starts to roll the fabric upwards, signaling his intention in taking it off of you. And that's when you freeze on the spot.

Your heart dropping to the base of your stomach, the very same arms you had wrapped around his neck now falling limp at your sides, your face turning into a frown.

"Whats wrong?", Minho asks, his hands stopping just short of your bellybutton, releasing your shirt that falls back down your sides with the motion. "I - I uh..." your breath catches in your throat a little and you stumble on your words, unable to meet his soft but intent gaze that searches your face for answers, "I - ugh", you sigh loudly and roll your eyes with frustration at your own self, "I have really ugly scars on my chest", you confess, mentally preparing for the same old speech you rehearsed so many times over in your head cause you knew the moment would eventually come.

For as much as you could always tell when he was feeling a little horny by the way he would smirk at you and tease you nonstop, Minho had never pressured you into anything, he really just initiated things and then was always trying to read your face and see how you'd react to his touch.

The more you seemed comfortable, eager even, to have him merely giving you that sort of attention, the more confident he grew and tried to test how far along you'd go. And truly, if it wasn't for how insecure your scars made you, you would have given him full permission to see you half naked ages ago.

Minho blinks at you, tilting his head to the side, slightly opening his mouth in that cute v shape as he looks at you confusedly, "I had a boob job okay? Back when I was 17. It was actually a breast reduction cause I had almost double d's and they were very uncomfortable and were causing me back problems and frequent chest pain and my rib cage was suffering and-" you stop rambling, catching your breath for a bit, still looking down at your lap as you further confess your troubles after a brief second.

"I don't regret it one bit. The best decision I made so far, really. But even though it's been years the scars never properly faded. The one on the left side is still a bit raised and rough to the touch and it's just... It's just - they look so bad".

The room falls quiet for what feels like an eternity when you know it's probably a few seconds, but at least now that you said it all you feel a little lighter, a little more confident as you slowly lift your eyes up to Minho who's still looking at you. "I don't care" he deadpans, his tone not even harsh just very... Indifferent? "I literally do not care, at all. I have a scar too, actually".

You barely have any time to register what's happening before he takes off his own shirt, revealing his toned chest, his pectorals prominent and his visible but softer upper abs which do show a darker patch of skin at the edges of a scar, "had to have surgery when I was a kid. I hate it. I don't want to talk about it. Never fully faded and never will but... It is what it is", he shrugs, his eyes quickly returning to your bewildered ones as you scan his beautiful chest.

"I think you look great", you breathe out, a genuinely fond smile creeping up your lips. You almost cannot believe he just exposed himself like that, only to make you feel better about your own scars.

Minho smiles back at you and sucks on his teeth, "thank you", his arms circle your waist and his hands rest on your lower back, bringing you a little closer to him, "you don't need to do this, though. You can take off your shirt or you can keep it on, either way I don't mind. I felt your tits before, I know they're great anyway".

[newlynova]

MDNI. you were sent to copenhagen to learn from the best pastry chef. little did you know that he was willing to teach you lessons beyond the realm of baking. 1.1k. cw female masturbation, power imbalance

the sweet aroma of vanilla bean and molasses enveloped you as you tugged the blanket higher upon your body, the warmth and comfort of the soft bed soothing the knots and aches of your muscles.

you had been working nonstop since you're arrival to copenhagen— your working days had consisted of fourteen hours on your feet in the kitchen of your mentor while the rest of your hours were spent nonstop reading and researching various recipes. you had been sent to copenhagen by your boss to learn from his former co-worker and close friend. 

you had been overjoyed, ecstatic even, to learn and work hands-on with such an amazing chef. yet upon your arrival, your excitement had been quickly replaced with dread— not for baking, no. but for the chef himself.

he was closer to you in age than you had expected— a handsome fellow with wavy blonde hair and various tattoos decorating his arms. he was quiet and dedicated yet very assertive in the kitchen. his tone had been dominant and blunt since he began his lessons with you, unable to hold his tongue while providing clear yet merciless feedback on your baking. he never yelled at you, though, refraining from doing so out of respect for your person, an action you rarely saw in your profession.

life after work had not been much better since you had been forced to stay with him— the rate of hotels and local bed n' breakfasts having been far too high for you to able to afford both a flight ticket and hotel arrangement for your trip. luckily, he had offered you his bedroom, allowing some divide between your personal life and his own.

and, as you lay there in your temporary boss's bed that night, your mind began to wander against better judgment. it had been far too long since you had any relief, far too long since you had felt an ounce of euphoria. hours upon hours of working had taken a toll on you, you thought as your hands drifted beneath the fabric of your large pajama shirt, you deserved this.

without another thought, your hands began to tweak your pebbled nipples, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds as heat pooled at the base of your cunt. you rolled your head to the side, cheek pressed flat into your chef luca's pillow in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. one hand began to drift down, trailing lightly over the length of your stomach before slipping under the covers of your pajama shorts. your mind drifted to the sleeping chef on the other side of the wall.

you thought of his strong and tattooed arms. the sight of his tattoo sleeves had been an object of your desire, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as the idea of tracing the outline of the illustrations with your tongue flashed through your mind. your mind then fixated on his large hands— those long and girthy fingers making your cunt flutter around emptiness. you pondered on how they would feel buried deep into your cunt, if they were as skilled with toying with a woman's pussy as they were crafting orgasm-inducing baked goods.

the light of the bedroom flickered on as your fingers slipped into your wet slit, your walls clenching around your far-too-small index and middle fingers as the bright warm light blinded you. your cheeks grew hot as you made eye contact with chef luca, your mouth dry and muscles stiff. 

at that moment you realized how inappropriate your actions were— here you were stuffing your cunt full at the idea of sleeping with your boss while lying in his bed. you were almost positive that he was going to kick you out at this point. you wouldn't blame him either— you much rather have a pervert sleep on the streets than sleep just a few mere feet away from you.

"i— luca— i can explain." you rushed out, retracting your hand from the depths of your walls not quickly enough. you couldn't help the rush of heat to your cheeks nor the clench of your cunt at the sight of his relaxed posture. wait, relaxed? why was he so relaxed?

"you look like you've seen a ghost, love," luca smirked, the thickness of his british accent ever present. he crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing through the thin grey shirt he had donned. with his legs crossed at the ankles and his body leaning against the door frame, he continued to taunt you with a knowing look in his eyes. 

"don't stop on my account, pretty girl," he readjusted the grip on his arms, your eyes shamelessly drifting down to the tent growing in his plaid pajama pants. "i thought i had heard a noise and figured i'd check on you— glad i did now," he stated.

"have i been working you too hard, darling? body too sore and in need of relief that you felt the need to touch yourself," he raised a questioning eyebrow. "in my bed?"

you were too stunned to speak, your mind going blank as you processed the situation. you couldn't help but get wetter at the prospect of your boss finding amusement in your situation.

"pull the blankets down." luca ordered sternly, your hands moving quickly to follow his instructions. your body was performing on autopilot, all sense of self-esteem having gone out the window. "remove your shirt." he then instructed.

the cold air nipped at your chest, your nipples hardening even further under the weight of his gaze and the frosty atmosphere. "what were you thinking about while you touched yourself, hm?" luca questioned as he pushed his body off the door frame. his steps were slow and calculated, the bed dipping beneath his weight as he crawled into the bed space in front of you. "were you imagining this? imagining me walking in— catching you?" he taunted, fingertips brushing over the bare skin of your ankle. 

within the span of a second, luca's fingertips had wrapped around the width of your ankle, tugging your body close to him and pinning you beneath his weight. he had situated his body between your legs, eyes fixed on you like a predator. any words had been lost to you, not that you would be able to find the right words to say anyway. like always, luca had left you speechless.

"tell me, pretty girl," luca's body hovered above you, hands pinned to the bed by either side of your head while he trapped you between his legs. his eyes grazed over your bare chest, drinking in the delectable sight of your breasts rising and falling with each heavy breath. 

"do you want me to teach you another lesson?" he asked, one of his hands shifting to cup the underside of your breast. he squeezed at the plump flesh, expertly kneading at the fat of your breast like it was made of dough.

"yes, chef."

[hxrsheykisses]

SMALL TALK 💋 | JERRY STOKES X MELISSA ORCHID♥️

This request was sent to me by @amazingbananabread !! I am SO excited to make my first request on here and I hope that it’ll encourage people to send in their own requests as well! So I hope you enjoy!♥️♥️♥️

The atmosphere around the two teens was quiet but peaceful. The soft breeze hitting there face while they laid in the fresh green glass, gazing up at the sky with a sense of relief coursing through them. It was nice being able to escape the chaotic environment of the clubs that they were involved in. Sir felt nice to rewind and enjoy some peace and quiet for a bit.

“…How’s your club going?” Jerry asked, not moving his gaze away from the sky.

Mel let out a hum of acknowledgment. Her club with Lucy was doing good, the usual. Their club was somewhat different from Jerry’s club—his club members were…okay. They were foul mouthed teenagers who gatekeep fandom like it was a lifeline for them. She overheard many jocks talk about them in various manners that only spoke trouble so Mel took it upon herself to see if these guys were serious. She saw them around and to say the least—the jocks were right. They were nerve wracking and caused nothing but trouble to those around them.

“Mel?”

Mel blinked a few times, trying to register into reality. “Oh, sorry, spaced out…” She said sheepishly. “Uh, the club is going good. Same old, same old. Anything new happen in yours?”

Jerry shook his head. “Nope. Everyone has been theirselves.” He shrugged his shoulders. That seemed like the usual Eltingville Club thing.

…

…

Jerry was different. He wasn’t like none of his friends in Mel’s opinion. He stuck out the most to her. Jerry was an interesting person in this world that she isn’t quite used too yet and that made her want to know more about Jerry. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Whenever he was out with his group of “friends”, they would be spouting out nonsense and made sure that the whole block heard them while Jerry just stood back, hardly opening his mouth to form a sentence. Jerry was like a butterfly just collecting nectar in a world full of bugs.

Mel felt bad for Jerry. He wasn’t stuck with these “friends” of his and they didn’t seem to appreciate him like they should. It made her mad. If made her confused. It made her wonder why she cared so much.

“Jerry,” Mel started. She was surprised that her mouth fixed itself to say his name. “are we friends?” Now she was finally looking at the boy, her eyes looking at his face while her lips were pressed into a fine line. She didn’t know why she asked that. She didn’t know why she had the urge to ask.

…

…

Mel is a girl who Jerry likes. Jerry likes her, a lot. Jerry has seen her around before she even saw him. He has been stealing glances at her ever since she “moved” here. When he first saw her, he felt his world come to a halt for a good moment. At first, Jerry shrugged it off and continued on. Then, one glance turned into three. Three turned into six. Six then turned into twenty. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She was so alluring, so pretty—he couldn’t help himself other than to admire her from afar.

Even being this close to a girl like Mel was too much for him.

Mel was a lot different from Bill, Josh, and Pete. Mel actually listened to his nonstop rants on fantasy—and she took it all in. She didn’t cut him off, she didn’t tell him to shut up—she just…listened. It made Jerry feel all hot, it made him feel like he was on Cloud Nine. With Mel, he could rant on and on and on.

Thats why those words left his mouth.

Jerry slowly looked over at Mel, coming in contact with her dark brown eyes that reminded Jerry of the milk chocolate candies he’d see at Seven-Eleven. He took in all of the “imperfections” that he deemed perfect in his eyes. Her face was littered with pimples, her eyes looked too far apart, her lips were thin—and yet he loved it all. He loved seeing her face. He loved seeing her.

“Of course we are, Mel’s,” Jerry spoke, a small smile crept up to his face. His ears got red. “you are a fun person to be around and you have some pretty cool interests. You should talk about them more. You—You really should! I-I would love to hear about all of them! I want to hear all of it! I…”

Crap. He overstepped it a bit too much…

Jerry’s face now became a full blown pink color as he looked away bashfully, feeling his heart race rapidly. His hands got clammy, his clothes felt tight, it felt hotter outside, he felt…weird. It was this weird tangy feeling inside of him. Jerry quickly added in an awkward, “Bidi Bidi Bidi” before immediately closing his mouth.

Mel nodded her head slowly, trying to contain her feelings despite it feeling like she was going to explode. She felt…whole. She felt free. She felt like herself.

Jerry never said anything bad about her interests. Like how she self ships herself with some 2D characters, rants about fanfics she found online, the X Readers she simps over, how she has some issues with her asshole dad or her stupid anger issues that she desperately tries to keep control of…

He loved her through it all. With no hesitation. Either no second guesses.

“Good.” Was what she said, a smile forming on her lips as she rested her hands on her stomach. It went back to solace again as the moment replayed like a song that Mel couldn’t move away from.

She needs to do this more often . . . 💋

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Break me.

MDNI - 18+

Warning: no protection. p in v. no plot. subordinate/superior. office. age gap. hatred. female reader.

Summary: I had a dream about this exactly but I didn’t see his face so I’m just going to pretend it’s Leon.

………………………………………………………………………………….

You had been appointed to work under THE Leon Kennedy. Ever since you wanted to join the force, you’ve heard stories about the man’s adventures and you couldn’t wait for the day you would meet him. Unfortunately for you, he only thought of you as a pest.

Every time you’d see, you would say ‘Hi’ and the occasional ‘Good morning!’ But you were only met with a scowl and sometimes even a nod. You didn’t care, however. You were far too happy to even be in the same room as him. You pardoned his scowls and his harsh and cold tones whenever he spoke to you.

He would always reply with short words. The less he talked, the better. But you couldn’t blame him, he’s been through so much and he has all these emotions pent up inside. You’d catch him all by himself during breaks. He hated the company, he felt like he HAD to be involved in a conversation. Everything felt like a burden to him. Even you.

You were young and naive. Too happy, he thought. How can someone be so cheerful when there’s all this cruelty and chaos happening? He thought you were strange. But maybe that was how kids your age were nowadays. Brain dead, he called it.

You knew that underneath all that anger, was someone so compassionate and kind. But he’s been betrayed before and he wouldn’t want to go through that pain again. So he built walls around himself, to protect his peace. Until you came around.

You two were in the same office, same room as always. He was looking over some details about missions on his files. But what were you doing? You were talking nonstop. It’s become a habit of yours. And he doesn’t know why hasn’t stopped you from talking about whatever it is you had in your mind. Work gossip? You’d spill it. What you did over the weekend? You’d tell him in full detail. Usually he would ignore it, like I said, he thought you were strange.

That is until one day, you wore this cute little outfit and it hugged your figure just right. He wasn’t one to stare but damn did you look ravenous. Your tight clothes hugged your breasts and ass like a puzzle piece. You looked like a classical Greek sculpture. Surreal and ethereal.

But he wouldn’t say that to you. Never. He was older and he was your superior. Why would he have these thoughts about the young woman he worked with?

He was sitting down on a chair and you were standing as you read over some detail out loud to him. But he wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying, god no. He was scanning your body with that outfit. He felt hot and bothered that you looked this good.

He shifted in his seat as he noticed a growing bulge in his pants. He quickly put his hand over his bulge. He may be an asshole but he had manners.

Unfortunately for him, you noticed. And once you noticed, your cheeks grew red and your eyes widened ever so slightly. You quickly continued reading but you stuttered.

Cute, he thought. He’s got you flustered. He decided to play with you. He uncovered his hand and leaned back into his chair.

You know what they say about men taking up all the space? Yeah he did that too. He spread his legs apart as he got in a comfortable position. Making his boner very noticeable from this angle. He was huge.

You don’t know how it happened. You just found yourself kneeling down between his legs. Your hands gripping on his thighs as he slowly unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

You took his big cock on your mouth and felt his tip reach the back of your throat. You gagged and twirled your tongue around his thick shaft and sucked him like no tomorrow. His cock fucking your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth. You felt your pussy grow wet and began to rub your swollen clit with your hand as your other hand held on to his thigh. Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. His hands traveled to your head and gripped on your hair as he bucked his hips into your face, wanting you to take him fully. He kept thrusting into your throat until you felt his cock twitch and squirm in your mouth. He brought his hand down your jaw and forced you to open your mouth wider as he shot his cum in you.

The saltiness of his cum dripping down your throat as he pulled out from your mouth and forced your jaw to close. He looked down at you and spoke with his deep voice.

“Swallow.”

He commanded. You nodded and swallowed his cum.

As you stood up, you felt your thighs rub against each other as you grew wet from sucking his cock. You slowly pulled down your pants with your panties and got on his lap. You held on to his shoulders as he wrapped his big calloused hands on your waist. You leveled myself on top of his hardened length and slowly sank in. As you took him slowly, he threw his head back and closed his eyes tightly shut as he tried to suppress a groan of pleasure.

“Fuck y/n… you feel so good,” He mumbled against your ear.

Growing desperate, he harshly pulled you down so you could take his cock inside. He stretched you out completely and you moaned in reaction. He breathed out shakily as you began to move against him in a circular motion. Feeling his shaft inside you drove you wild. You brought your head to the crook of his neck and bit down to muffle any moans of pleasure. He grew desperate and began to lift you up and down on his cock. The sounds of your skin clashing against each other echoing through his office as you felt tears prick at your eyes. Pleasure washing over you as you felt his hand travel down to your bud and used his rough thumb to rub your swollen clit. You moaned his name as you became a hot mess.

“Leon,”

You felt your stomach tie up in knots as your walls began to clench around his thick manhood.

“I’m going to cum-“

You choked out through moans and whimpers and he only quickened his pace, driving you insane with his touch. No matter how much he hated you, he definitely knew how to prove it by fucking you so rough. Through one last thrust against your pussy, you came hard on his cock and your body spasmed. He kept thrusting in you, lifting you up and down through your high as you felt his cock twitch inside you. He grunted and he gripped on your sides as he pulled you down to the base of his cock and cummed inside you. His hot juices spurting inside you, hitting your deepest lengths. He pulled you to his chest as you rode his cock after he came, making sure you milked him of every last drop. You both remained there for a moment, panting and catching your breath after your intimate session. He pulled you away and stared into your eyes as you barely had the energy to move. He lifted you up and pulled out you. Once he pulled out, cum began to drip down the sides of your inner thighs to his chair. He used his index finger to pick up the cum and stuff it right back inside your pussy with no warning, earning a soft moan from you as you felt his long finger inside you. He pulled his finger away and gently lifted you off of him. You leaned on his desk for support as he began to clean you and his chair. He pulled his boxers up and put on his pants as he picked up your underwear from the floor and gently dressed you up. His hands working so lightly as if he was scared of breaking you.

And you would let him break you again.

[strawberryya]

how to befriend a vampire

Yeosang x reader

synopsis: what could be better when you’re bored of life in every way than a hot vampire fuck buddy?

word count: 2k

genre/contains: smut, vampire au, vampire!yeosang, gn!reader, strangers to lovers/fwb, unprotected sex, general tw for vampirism and being bitten (the word blood is not used but heavily implied), stalker-ish behavior from both individuals, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

rating: 18+

a/n: first arousal august fic is here! I hope everyone likes it and looks forward to the next little blurb I have ready and waiting in the drafts :>

my arousal august masterlist

original event for arousal august

[navigation post!]

Summer was over and new classes were about to begin. Returning to your normal routine wasn’t too hard, you had done it before. Your friends were the same, your dorm was the same, although your roommates were new, and the classes all felt as usual. Nothing special was happening at all. Of course, it would’ve been nice if something were to happen, anything really. Just something that would make life this year a bit different than last year. Maybe you should drop a class and pick up something that has nothing to do with your goal, perhaps cults would be fun to study for a term or two? 

Nothing was wrong, it was just so very…boring. 

“A back-to-class party?” Not a terrible idea, you reasoned when your new roommates asked if you wanted to come along to the park that first weekend back at campus. 

It could be horrible, but at least it would mean that something would happen other than studying or watching movies with your new, and so far reasonable, roommates. It had been a while since you had been with anyone too. Maybe this party was the perfect opportunity to find someone a bit attractive to hook up with. The one from last year had ended up getting into a relationship during the summer - rather annoying, because he really wasn’t that bad in bed. 

You needed orgasms to get through the school year, and so you went to the party. Dressed up from head to toe, in clothes that hugged your ass and glitter in your hair, hoping that the outfit would be enough to gain someone’s attention. 

Your mission was… sort of successful. It did attract tons of people, some really attractive people, and some incredibly sleazy and creepy people.

You regretted coming after about two hours of nonstop socializing with other students which led absolutely nowhere. Nobody grabbed your attention, everyone fit perfectly into the little presaved folders in your head. It was so predictable, so incredibly boring. 

“Should we just give up?” You shouted to one of your new roommates. At least, you found some hope in the fact that neither one of them had ended up finding someone interesting among the large crowd that flew past one another like ants in the campus park. You weren’t completely alone in yur failure. 

“I’m ready to go, honestly,” one of your roommates agreed, while the other one had already disappeared in the crowd without acknowledging your question. 

You grabbed ahold of one another. Neither of you sober enough to be able to navigate your way home without losing one another in the night. With arms folded together, in a way only possible for two almost strangers when drunk, you two trudged away from the party and the loud bass that made your head pound. 

“I wanted to fuck someone tonight,” you groaned and fake sobbed into the chilly night air, your roommate only laughing at your unapologetic whining. “I’m not kidding, I don’t care who it is. I just really wanna be obsessed with someone! I wanna be in love! I don’t care if it’s actually love or just really great sex.”

It seemed a bit silly to say out loud, but it was the truth. You probably wouldnt have been so honest with your roommate this soon had you been sober tonight. Nevertheless, the truth was that you just wanted someone to think about, someone to crush on, someone to sleep with when the days became too boring to handle by yourself. 

You were wobbling down the cobbled streets on your way back to the dorm. Your arm was still entangled with your roommates, thoughts having moved on from your honest feelings and instead focusing on whether or not it would be possible to order fries to your dorms. 

When he bumped into your arm, or more correctly, when you stumbled into his arm as he passed, you almost fell over. Enraged at the audacity of this random guy to walk right into you, you turned back around, prepared to yell at him with all your might. But when you began shouting a loud “Hey!”, your anger soon ebbed out as the stranger turned around, revealing his perfect face in the yellow light from the streetlight above. His features were striking even in the dark. His eyes were piercing. His hair was dark and pushed back from his forehead in a light wave. Beside one of his eyes, you noticed a blushy pink birthmark, almost matching the pretty red shade of his lips. His lips… were a lot redder than any lips you had seen on a random guy before. Was he wearing lipstick? 

You had forgotten why you had yelled out to the stranger. His gorgeously handsome face distracted you completely. 

“Y/n, let’s gooo,” your roommate whined, pulling at your arm, evidently not enraptured by the pretty stranger you had bumbled into. How was that possible? You had never seen him before, never known he existed, and you were already obsessed with him. His name, his interests, his favorite place to kiss his lover, you needed to know it all. You needed to befriend him. 

The night was mostly a blur the following day, everything except for the stranger.

For some reason, his face never left your mind. For two weeks you searched every room for him, scanned the streets as you walked down them, and took walks on the campus every shot you got. 

You never found him. He could’ve been an illusion, but you knew deep down that he wasn’t. At least looking for the mystery man in the night had given you something to think about, someone to obsess over, even if you didn’t even know his name. 

It took yet two more weeks and another walk to the convenience store to finally find that one necessary piece of information. You didn’t understand how it had taken this long to find him, it wasn’t like he was hiding. He was walking around in the park, just like the last time you had bumped into him. Dark hair falling onto the sides of his head, a long coat half open to reveal a simple black polo and jeans, almost exactly like last time. You took it all in, stopping mid-step as to not loose sight of him, the plastic bag you had bought filled with snacks and drinks for the late-night studying you had planned on doing was rustling in the wind. He had seen you too. 

He wasn’t moving either, maybe he thought you were a weirdo for simply staring at him in the dark park. 

You drew in a breath. “Hey you! What’s your name?!” You shouted across the grass. If you were going to be a weirdo, you would do it properly. 

He didn’t shout back. Far away someone shouted in the night. You looked towards the sound for half a second out of reflex, and when you looked back the stranger was gone. 

Again?? You thought and damned the universe for teasing you like this. 

“Yeosang.” 

The voice was deep and it sent chills down your back. It made you quickly turn around, finding the stranger right behind you now. He was even hotter this close. 

“Yeosang…” you whispered under your breath. He was rather tall. He gave you a small smile, white teeth flashing cold in the moonlight. Unusually pointy. “I’m y/n…”

His smile got wider. “I know”

Your mind blanked, but you needed to say something. “Let’s be friends!” You hurried to say before he could have a chance to mysteriously disappear again. His smile dropped, eyes looking at you surprised and slightly suspicious. Understandable. 

“Sure,” he said after a moment of only the wind in your ears, a smirk appearing on his face. “If a friend is all you want, I can grant you that.” 

“It’s not,” you said honestly and quickly. His smirk grew. “I want a lot more, but I only found out your name ten seconds ago. Thought I’d give you a chance to get to know me before I tried getting you into bed with me.” 

You felt feverish, the embarrassing reality of what you were telling this stranger hitting you hard.

“I know enough,” he said before his hand found the side of your face and his lips leaned in to meet yours. He tasted like aluminum for a split second but the way you could feel his toned body against yours where your coats fell open distracted you and you soon forgot about the unusual taste. 

A swishing sound made you open your eyes again, the cold from the night air in the campus park seemingly gone and replaced with much warmer air. You were inside, you were inside your own bedroom. You didn’t know how it had happened, you didn’t really know what had happened, and you didn’t know why you didn’t even care. The stranger in the night was named Yeosang, and he was kissing down your neck in your bedroom, pulling your coat off your body, and throwing it into the corner of the room. He was no ordinary person, that you had already caught onto. 

“Can I bite you?” He mumbled against your skin. 

His hands were caressing your body and your mind was buzzing with desire, but the desire didn’t clog your mind yet. You were clearminded and saying “Yes” before you could stop and think about what a bad decision it might be to agree. 

Small pecks now your throat made arousal pool in your lower abdomen. “Bite me as you fuck me,” you whispered. This made Yeosang smile against your skin, moving up to kiss you passionately once again as he pulled his own clothes off along with yours. Pushing you down on the bed as his hard cock pushed against your thigh. It would be tight, but you needed him to use you and stretch you out enough to make life interesting again. 

That, he did. Nothing was mundane or boring about his hands on your body or his tongue on your chest. He was surprisingly gentle as he began filling your hole with his erect cock, but his pace grew feral as he continued pounding into you. You were moaning and clawing at his sculpted body when he hit the right spot inside of you. When his lips let go of you, you looked at him gazing down at your bare neck, he wanted to bite you for real, it was clear he meant it, and you wanted him to as well. You shifted your neck, inviting him to do what he wished. “You look delicious,” he mumbled before he threw himself onto your neck, piercing the skin ever so slightly. You barely even felt it, but the way he suckled on your skin after the small sting felt like he was trying to mark your skin, sending goosebumps down your body when he continued licking and humming against your neck. 

You came as he pounded into you, his hands working their magic while getting to know your body. He didn’t stop until you came for a second time, whining at the overstimulation. 

He cared for your neck and cleaned you up, his movements swift and gentle as he handled you. He caressed your skin with great care, careful not to be too rough. A world’s difference from the way he had fucked you a moment ago. He didn’t force any small talk, a nice change from most other guys you had been with. He had gotten dressed and given you some of your own pajamas to put on before he was ready to leave. 

He couldn’t leave just like this, you collected all the courage you had left and began with an unsure voice. “We’re friends now, right? So you’re welcome here anytime, we could do this again…” 

“We’re friends, yeah.” He smirked and looked at you as you pulled your shirt over your head. “I’ll be here if you need me, or if you’re just… bored.” The last word he said was paired with a small wink. You chuckled nervously, he had known all along. Could he read your mind as well? Maybe you could find out next time. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

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Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 28

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, 18+/Explicit

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19 l Ch. 20 l Ch. 21 l Ch. 22 l Ch. 23 l Ch. 24 l Ch. 25 l Ch. 26 l Ch. 27

Chapter 28 summary: Dara makes a difficult decision when preparing for the Partisans to arrive at the clone base.

Extra content warnings for this chapter: Smut! Unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, jealous Crosshair, biting, breastplay, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, borderline degrading language, slight dom/sub dynamics

Dara wasn’t sure how long he had been fucking her up against the console, the locked buttons biting into the skin of her breasts, when she finally thought to ask.

“Wait—whose ship is this?” she panted out.

Crosshair answered with a particularly hard thrust and a harsh tug on her hair. “Howzer’s,” he grunted.

She rolled her eyes at him over her shoulder. “Seriously?”

He nudged the side of her face so that she was once again looking forward, watching their reflections in the darkened transparisteel of the viewport, and didn’t deign to elaborate, just nipped at her shoulder and redoubled his efforts.

Dara had spoken to Howzer for maybe five minutes earlier that day, finally getting a chance to take him aside and apologize to him personally for her deception. The clone captain had received it politely but distantly, but apparently that brief conversation had been enough for Crosshair’s jealousy to rear its head. When she had found the sniper that evening, arms crossed, leaning against the empty ship, and he had jerked his chin in the direction of the ramp, she hadn’t hesitated to follow him—both of them desperately tearing off clothes and armor before the hatch had even fully closed—but she also hadn’t realized, when he bent her over the dashboard in the cockpit, that he was looking to prove some sort of point.

She should have known. Honestly, she wasn’t completely sure whether Crosshair was actually attracted to her or just couldn’t stand the thought of someone else having her when he didn’t.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that she didn’t think he enjoyed this; he had made abundantly clear what he wanted from her, and since that first time on Xagalus she had felt his eyes on her even more than usual. And though she had to admit that she herself had been thinking about it almost nonstop, after the second time it had happened, she had resolved—again—to stay away from him.

Then she had found herself with a spare minute and with his gaze no longer burning into her, and before she knew it she was on her hands and knees on a rooftop getting absolutely railed.

And then there were all the other occasions since…

At least this time, with the privacy afforded by the ship, they could strip fully. Crosshair’s skin felt hot against hers, his well-muscled thighs pressing tightly against her ass at the summit of each thrust and his chest flush against her back, his stubble rubbing along her shoulder as he tongued every bare inch of her that he could reach. His free hand massaged at her breast, and his cock was angled perfectly, drawing her higher and higher.

Crosshair must have felt the way she was tensing and knew her climax was approaching. Dara’s eyes fluttered closed, but he yanked at her hair again and they shot back open.

“I want you to watch, cyar’ika,” Crosshair growled. “Watch yourself cum for me.” Their gazes met in the transparisteel, the intensity he aimed at her almost unbearable, and Dara couldn’t stop the orgasm from rocketing through her. Her face contorted with pleasure, and Crosshair smirked, that arrogant kriffing asshole, but she felt too good to care, every muscle in her body relaxing all at once. All she could do was pant through it as Crosshair’s brow tensed before he released inside of her with a groan and one final, hard drive of his hips.

He held her by the waist for a moment, stroking gently with both thumbs, before pulling out carefully. Dara pushed herself up and watched for a moment as he pulled his boxers back on—skin-tight black ones, she imagined GAR- or even Empire-issue, which hugged his ass so deliciously she wanted to take a bite—and settled into the pilot’s seat with a toothpick. He was sweating a little with exertion, looking extremely satisfied with himself, and he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it down. His gray locks, so closely cropped when they had first met, were growing out a little, beginning to curl chaotically around the burn scar at his temple. She liked it a little longer, selfishly wanted something to run her fingers through and pull hard like he always did to her.

It was too bad, really, that she couldn’t let this continue.

“You’re distracted,” Crosshair observed as she began to pull her own underwear and breastband back on. How it was that he always knew what she was feeling, she could never tell, and not for the first time she wondered if his genetic enhancements had something to do with his powers of observation, though even keen eyes shouldn’t have made him read her so well. She looked away, searching for wherever her pants had gotten to while they’d been frantically undressing.

She kept her voice flat, unaffected—he couldn’t think she was angry, her stronger emotions were like a beacon for him, only drawing him in further.

“This can’t happen again,” Dara declared firmly.

Finally managing to locate her trousers, she perched on the edge of the co-pilot’s chair to pull them on and glanced up to find Crosshair staring intently at her. When she met his gaze, he sneered and shrugged, indifferent.

“If you’d told me before, I would’ve drawn it out longer,” he drawled. Dara rolled her eyes and stood to begin searching for her shirt, but he stopped her by curling his long fingers around her wrist. “Give me five minutes, and we can go again.” He raised an eyebrow. “If it’s the last time.”

She scoffed. “It’ll take more than five minutes.”

Crosshair smirked and relaxed his grip ever-so-slightly, stroking along her forearm. “I’m an enhanced clone. Better stamina, better recovery… you can’t compare me to other men you’ve been with. I’ll always be better.”

Dara snorted. “You’re so full of yourself.” But she sat back down all the same, feeling tingles on her skin from his touch even after he released her. Another round tonight couldn’t hurt, she told herself. One last time.

Outside the ship, the base was quiet and calm, and she closed her eyes, savoring the companionable silence. This had gone better than she’d thought it would, perhaps proving her suspicions correct—that, whatever strange compulsion had led Crosshair to pursue her almost incessantly since they’d met, now, with his curiosity sated, he would rapidly lose interest.

For a moment, on the rooftop, she’d begun to doubt it, confused by his strange reaction to her scraped knees (hardly her first or worst sex-related injury, but Dara didn’t think he’d appreciate that bit of trivia). She’d been unconcerned until the moment she’d caught sight of him, looking so sullen he inexplicably reminded her of a wet tooka, and wasn’t that a strange image for someone she knew was so deadly, so ruthless. It was difficult to parse where that morose vulnerability had come from. Whatever it was, it was clear that he wanted—needed, maybe—to feel in control, and didn’t take any slips lightly.

She wasn’t sure if her steadfast refusal to allow him that was what kept him coming back for more, or if it was steadily driving him off. Not a rotation had gone by since the rooftop where they hadn’t managed to find themselves sequestered in some dark corner of the base, but he was more closed off since then, all growls and posturing in response to her prodding and stubbornness. They hadn’t spent much time together otherwise, one or the other of them always strolling casually off the moment they were dressed, practically radiating satisfaction.

Crosshair’s voice disrupted Dara’s reverie. “Why?”

“Hmm?” she responded. She glanced over at him lazily, trying to retrace her thoughts back to the last thing they had said, but his expression was blank as he stared out the viewport. 

“Why can’t this happen again? You can’t tell me you aren’t enjoying yourself.” The last sentence came as a seductive, self-confident purr, a tone she was now all-too-used to hearing in her ear as strong hands explored every inch of her. Crosshair met her gaze in the reflection, eyes smoldering and a familiar smirk on his lips.

Dara rolled her eyes. “That’s not it.” He raised an eyebrow, patient, waiting her out, and she sighed, resigned. “My people arrive tomorrow. There will be a lot to get done. I can’t afford to be distracted.”

He scoffed, folding his arms and turning to look at her directly. “Didn’t realize I was such a distraction.”

“You know what I mean.” Dara schooled her features, willing herself not to take the bait. This had to be done, and the less of it turned into a fight, the easier it would be to move on from.

Of course, nothing with Crosshair was easy.

“I’m not sure I do. If you ask me, it’s been good for you,” the sniper remarked. He looked her up and down, gesturing with his toothpick. “You’re less tense.”

The worst part was—he was right. She’d known, long before her breakdown on Xagalus, that she was too tightly wound, liable to snap at any moment, her life a constant stream of paranoia and risk management and death and atrocity, and none of this fixed any of that, but it sure made it easier to forget. It opened a release valve on the pressure.

“That’s not important,” she objected anyway. “I need to be focused on the mission. The cause takes priority.” It was the reason she hadn’t had even had a one-night-stand since shortly after she’d rejoined Saw, and if she hadn’t really had a repeat partner like this since before the war—well, she didn’t have the cause as an excuse, but that was her business.

This situation was rapidly deteriorating. Already, Dara could tell that Crosshair wasn’t prepared to accept that as an explanation, his expression too keen, searching for a gap in her armor where he could strike home. 

“Really? Or are you just worried your Partisans will find out you’re fucking an ex-Imperial?” he spat out, and yes, that thought had vaguely occurred to her, but he was still probing for his plan of attack, she should get dressed and get out of here before things escalated even further— “Or is it Saw?” he tried. His eyes flashed with recognition, certain he had spotted a weak point. “Is that it—you and Saw, then? Planning on going back to sleeping with your leader?”

“Oh, fuck off, Crosshair,” she exploded. At the back of her brain, a logical but entirely ineffectual voice pointed out that, yet again, she had let him goad her into a reaction, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop her. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since you still won’t let go of that thing with Howzer.”

He sneered. “This isn’t about Howzer,” he countered heatedly, as though they were arguing half-naked in some other man’s ship.

Dara considered him a moment, deciding on a different tactic. “How old are you?” Crosshair scoffed, beginning to roll his eyes, but she insisted, “No, I really mean it. The clones have accelerated aging, right? So how old are you?”

He crossed his arms and glared back defiantly. “Younger than Omega.”

“Dank farrik, that’s—”

“What does it matter?” he interrupted, and she would have to just tuck away her reaction to that troubling bit of information for another time.

She sighed. “What it matters is that I’ve been having sex for as long as you’ve been alive. If you’re going to bother being jealous of every person I’ve ever slept with, it’s going to be a long and frustrating battle.”

Crosshair chewed on that for a moment, and Dara wondered if, like her, he was struck by the enormity of it—that she’d accumulated a lifetime of experiences in comparison, had the luxury of living slowly, collected pleasures with meaning and without, nights remembered with fondness and some hardly remembered at all.

It didn’t matter—and he didn’t need to know—how close he was to the best she’d ever had. How much her body wanted this to continue, even while her mind insisted she was asking for trouble if it did.

Whatever Crosshair may have been thinking, it was tamped down quickly beneath a familiar veneer of snide cruelty, his suspicions confirmed. “So you are fucking Saw.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Dara huffed.

Crosshair smirked and flicked his toothpick across the cockpit. It bounced against the viewport before disappearing amid the buttons of the console. “Hmm. Didn’t think the great Saw Gerrera would make it a habit of sleeping with his subordinates.”

“I’m not his subordinate,” she snapped.

“Then what are you to him?” He was regarding her seriously now, and she realized that, beneath the smug, irritating prodding, the question was genuine. It was an impressive interrogation, one she could hardly believe she had fallen for, but as usual, he’d played her emotions like an expert.

Dara sighed again, feeling herself giving in. “Saw and I have been friends a long time.” It was the truth, though a complicated one, the strands of their shared history far too difficult to untangle here, now.

Crosshair only hummed mockingly. “Hmm. Is that what you call it?”

She stood, and closed the short distance to the pilot’s seat to tower over him. “Listen. I’m only going to say this once, and then you’d better back off. Saw and I slept together twice, and neither time was a good idea.” And what a bad idea it was, both times mired in grief and a quiet desperation to acknowledge they were still alive, the silence afterward a durasteel wall between them. She shook her head to free herself of the memories. “It won’t be happening again, and it has nothing to do with this.”

His piercing amber gaze held hers a moment, but Dara struggled to read its significance.  

“I know it won’t,” he crowed quietly. He placed his hands on either side of her waist and stroked his thumbs over her hip bones, a smug expression coming over his features. “Not now that you’ve had me.”

Crosshair’s fingertips moved slowly upward to tug her breast band over her head, his eyes drinking her in as her breasts tumbled free. It occurred to her that this must be the most they’d ever actually seen of each other, the soft lights of the cockpit exposing what had been, in their earlier encounters, partly hidden in shadow or beneath clothing hastily tugged aside. She let her own fingers stroke lightly over his torso, tracing the lines of his tattoos—a skull over an Aurebesh 99 on his left pec, a target on his right, an impressive likeness of his rifle along the crease of one hip, a two-headed snake slithering across his ribs—and felt the way his muscles twitched at her touch. It was unfair, really, how perfect his long, lean body was, how tempting it was to follow the salt and pepper trail of hair down his abdomen to where his cock was already hardening at her attentions, tenting the fabric of his boxers.

But she was giving into temptation already, wasn’t she, and so Dara slid her hand beneath his waistband and took his length firmly in hand. Crosshair groaned and squeezed her breast, pulling her closer with his other hand at the small of her back. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he enclosed the other in his hot mouth, sucking lightly at first, then harder when Dara began to stroke him steadily. She sighed in contentment, the feeling of velvety-soft skin against her palm and his tongue working her nipple to a peak sending waves of arousal to her core. Crosshair slowly slid his hand up along her spine until it rested between her shoulder blades, pressing her even tighter against him, as though he couldn’t taste enough of her, needed more and more even as Dara straddled him in the pilot’s seat.

When Crosshair finally released her nipple to take a sharp, gasping breath she gripped his shoulder, pressing him back against the headrest, and captured his lips against hers. Their tongues battled ferociously for a moment until Dara picked up the pace at which she was pumping his cock, swiping her thumb against the sensitive head and using the pre-cum she collected to torment him further. Crosshair broke away from the kiss with a groan.

“You’ll be the death of me, burk’yc,” he murmured, resting a hand against her cheek. The gesture was oddly affectionate, and Dara found she couldn’t hold his gaze.

“Should I stop?” she teased. She trailed her lips down his jaw, his neck, his collarbone, sucking and nipping as she felt the urge, greedily tasting the salt of his skin. Crosshair didn’t reply for a long moment, mesmerized as she tongued the lines of his tattoos and scars then sank onto her knees in front of the pilot’s seat. She paused at the end of a long lick over the Firepuncher at his hip and toyed with the edge of his waistband, looking up at him coyly.

Dara could tell he was close to losing control, jaw clenched and hands curling into fists at his side, eyes ravenous and predatory like a starving nexu, but he quickly recovered his composure, disguising his insatiable need under an insufferable smirk.

Crosshair settled a possessive hand at the back of her head. “You don’t want to stop. Go ahead, mesh’la—take what you want.”

She felt a twinge of annoyance at how he still insisted on pretending like he was the one in charge even as she practically had him eating out of the palm of her hand, but it was competing with a purring part of her that agreed wholeheartedly, that felt the gentle pressure of his long fingers petting through her hair and wanted to lean into it. That wanted to give in.

And if it was going to be the last time, well, she might as well enjoy herself.

With one smooth motion, Dara slid Crosshair’s boxers down his slender legs, eyeing his erection hungrily as it bounced back against his stomach. His cock was as beautiful as he was, really—also incredibly unfair, he had a big enough ego already—all golden-brown skin and a dark head, long and a little thin like the rest of him, curved just fucking perfectly like it was designed to make her see stars. As eager as she felt, she went slowly, sucking marks along the inside of his thigh, tonguing the crease of his hip, then just breathing gently on his cockhead as she made her way to the opposite side to do it all again.

Crosshair tightened his grip in her hair a little in warning. “Don’t tease, brat,” he growled.

Dara grinned up at him mischievously. “But you said I could take what I want,” she protested, her tone all faux innocence, and before he could snarl at her she was already mouthing at his shaft, kitten licking her way to the head where she swirled her tongue around the sensitive glans and swallowed him down. It had been a long time before Crosshair, but she had always been kriffing good at this, so she relaxed her throat easily and took him far enough that she could press her nose into the coarse gray hairs at the base.

“Karking hell,” he hissed through gritted teeth. She could feel him twitch at the back of her throat and held him there a moment before she eased up a little, breathing deeply through her nose.

Maybe she would be the death of him.

She dedicated herself to putting on a bit of a show, alternating bobbing up and down while gently tonguing the thick vein at the bottom of his cock, only to then suck hard, or take him down to the root, or press the head to the inside of her cheek so he could see it protrude a little. Whenever she looked up, he was watching, nearly unblinking, unwilling to tear his eyes away from the sight.

He was breathing hard, chest heaving, unable to hold back his groans. “Fuck. Look so good… on your knees for me…”

Dara hummed around him, and he tightened his grip in her hair, maybe resisting the urge to make her take him deeper, faster. She liked this, liked the taste and feel of him on her tongue, liked seeing him nearly out of his mind with pleasure. His eyes finally drifted shut, and his head tilted back for a moment before he eased her off of him.

“Ride me,” Crosshair rasped, demanding, and his tone brooked no disagreement. She considered disagreeing anyway, just for the sake of it, to push him, make him finally lose control—but then, she did want to ride him.

Still, “Say please,” she goaded, even as she shed her pants and underwear and straddled him once again, hovering her wet pussy over his rock-hard length.

Crosshair seized her by the hips hard enough to bruise, eyes glinting dangerously. “You don’t want me to say please. You want me to split you in fucking half. Ride. Me.”

Then Dara was choking out a cry as he sank into her. When he withdrew a little, she chased after him, craving the feeling of him inside of her, unable to resist her own need any longer. She held tight to his shoulders for stability and he let her set the pace for a while, watching from under heavy lids as she fucked herself on his cock.

So perfect, it was so perfect the way his cockhead stroked against the sensitive spot inside her, making her feel impossibly full, the way the friction against her clitoris when she grinded down against him sent pleasure tingling through her veins. Her thighs burned with effort as she rose and fell against him, helped only by his hands against her hip and ass guiding her up and down, but it was easy to ignore as she focused entirely on the promise of ecstasy that awaited her.

Crosshair was always uncharacteristically talkative during sex, and now was no different, though she wasn’t sure he even knew what he was murmuring. “That’s it, meshla. So good. Getting so close now, keep going. Can’t decide which I like better, your mouth or your cunt, they both feel so kriffing good for me. But you don’t need me to decide, do you? You’re happy with any way you get to take my cock.”

Dara cried out, her orgasm finally spilling over her, though she was careful not to let her cries and moans transform into words, fearful they would say too much, the voice in her head echoing, it’s true, it’s true, she wanted him, would take whatever he gave her, and now she had him and it felt too good and this couldn’t be the last time, she didn’t want it to be the last time.

Unable to keep moving through the force of her orgasm, Dara had half-collapsed onto Crosshair, who was thrusting slowly, almost gently, while she put herself back together.

She kissed the skin of his shoulder lazily where she had landed, panting, “I’m— I’m done, you can go ahead and—”

“No,” Crosshair interrupted, speeding up his pace only marginally. “You’re going to give me another one.”

Dara furrowed her brow into his shoulder. She had blown him to within an inch of his life earlier—he had to be close enough, and she wasn’t sure why he was holding out now. “What? You haven’t had enough already?” she managed to snark through her post-orgasmic daze.

Crosshair nosed his way down to her mouth and captured it with his, teasing her with his tongue and sucking on her bottom lip. “I could make you cum every morning, noon, and night for a tenday straight and it wouldn’t be enough,” he growled.

She shivered, his words sending electricity straight to her core, riling her up all over again, but before she could even think to reply he was back to thrusting hard, rough and demanding, marking all over her neck and breasts with lips and teeth. His strong hands at her waist helped her keep bouncing on his cock despite it feeling like all the strength had fled from her limbs, and soon she could already feel another climax barreling toward her like a railspeeder.

By the looks of it, Crosshair wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer either, his furrowed brow and nails biting into her skin betraying how close he was, and all she wanted was to feel his warm spend leaking out of her again. He gripped her jaw and held her pressed tightly to his chest, pistoning up into her relentlessly, forcing her eyes to meet his.  

“Say my name. Tell me who’s making you feel like this.”

And Dara no longer had the wherewithal or even desire to resist, crying out, “Crosshair!” as bliss, sweet bliss, invaded every one of her senses. She was just barely aware of him burying his face in her neck, releasing his own moans, and she felt the telltale twitch of his cock as he came inside her.

It took her a few moments to come back to awareness enough to realize she was shaking. Crosshair still held her tightly, his arms wrapped around her waist and hands rubbing soothing circles against her back. She breathed deeply, trying to regain control of her body, and moved to extricate herself.

“Hold still. Too sensitive. Just—wait a minute,” Crosshair murmured. Dara took pity on him and stopped wiggling. He kept his forehead resting against her shoulder, just breathing for a long moment. It was warm and comfortable, resting in his lap while he softened inside of her, and she toyed unthinkingly with a stray curl at the crown of his head and let herself relax. Kriff, that was amazing. It was always amazing.

She didn’t want to stop.

If she didn’t stop now, she might never be able to.

“You good yet?” Dara asked. When Crosshair finally nodded, she slipped off of him, quickly pulling on her underwear and trousers before too much of his cum could leak out onto her thighs. They dressed in silence, though it took Crosshair much longer to retrieve the scattered pieces of his armor and fit them back into place. Dara stood uncertainly when she had finished, feeling like she should say something, but not sure what.

Crosshair glanced up at her from where he was still working on securing his vambraces. His eyes were hard, his expression cold. “Go on. You got what you wanted.”

Dara grumbled in frustration. “I thought we both did.” Sure, now he was angry, and she would be able to make sense of that, if he hadn’t also gone from indifferent to jealous to smug to disdainful to fucking her brains out all in the past forty minutes.

He didn’t reply, just looked away dismissively.

Rubbing her eyes where she could already feel the tension coming back, Dara made her way to the hatch, pressing the button to lower the ramp before turning to him one final time. “Listen… really, it’s been…” She sighed. “Just, know that— This isn’t about you.”

Crosshair waited long enough after she left to be sure she was too far to hear the clatter before he chucked his helmet against his reflection in the darkened transparisteel of the viewport.

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[llyn1xx]

Top Best

Academic Rival!Scaramouche x Reader

Sypnosis: You and Scaramouche have been competing against each other in school. Often boasting higher scores or achievements to make the other jealous. However, lately, you couldn't help but fall for your one and only rival.

Genre/Tags: Academic rivals, highschool AU, modern, romance, fluff, cussing, nicknames, Scaramouche might be ooc, quick progression (i think)

You pushed your way past the crowd to get to the bulletin board in the halls. The rankings for this quarter had just been posted. You skimmed through the long lists to find your grade and searched for your name and..

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"Holy shit," you breathed out in excitement as you widely stared at your name listed as #1, right above Scaramouche, the percentages were extremely close, but you still did it! You beat him.

You looked around to find the very man you had outdone, scanning for any spec of purple hair. You eventually see him make his way through the bulletin, doing the exact same thing you had done just a second ago. You observed how his eyes slightly widened as he saw the results.

You moved closer to him with a smug look on your face, preparing to boast your latest achievement.

"told 'you I'd beat you to it next time," You remarked with a mischievous grin on your face.

"Oh please," Scaramouche scoffed. "You only beat me by .67%, was that really the best you could do?"

"That .67% proves that I'm way better than you!" You argued. This was such a huge boost to your ego, and you weren't gonna let it go so easily.

"I beat you by over 1% last time. You just got lucky, (Name)." Scaramouche simply stated before gently flicking your forehead. Before you even got the chance to protest, he walked away, leaving you stunned and speechless.

You felt your face getting a bit hot too—it was just something about the way he said your name, and the way he looked at you, and the way he oh so caringly flicked your forhead despite acting all annoye- You abruptly cut your own thoughts off. You were getting carried away. You can't be falling for him. You hated him. He gets on your nerves all the damn time, yet why? Why does your stomach flip at every interaction with him? Why do you look forward to going to school every day just to see him and bicker nonstop with him once again? Why does he cross your mind even when you don't want him to? You couldn't take this. You just decided not to think about it. This is gonna pass anyways, right?

. . .

The next day, right after school ended, you found yourself in the library studying for your next test. You were more determined than ever, and you wouldn't allow your rank to drop again.

"Hm, working hard, I see." A familiar voice cooed from behind you. You didn't even have to turn back to look at the source. You knew that voice far too well.

"Fuck off, Scaramouche." These words rolled off your tongue like second nature. You felt the man in question slowly sit next to you with the same book you have.

"Don't you want to be study buddies?" Scaramouche asked, sarcasm floating in the air as he spoke. "That's the last thing I'd want to do." You sounded firm and serious, although you really wouldn't mind studying with him, and Scaramouche himself knew this. He stayed next to you as you expected, and he started prepping his materials to study.

"Whatever you say, princess." You were taken aback by the nickname that so effortlessly left his mouth. It took everything in you to maintain your composure, but you couldn't stop the familiar heat that crept up to your face.

"Are you blushing?" Scaramouche teased, obviously and annoyingly amused by your reaction. You wanted to hit him right then and there and storm off, but you couldn't handle more embarrassment than you're already feeling. "You're imagining things." You replied after what felt like eternity.

"Didn't know you had a thing for endearing nicknames, (Name)." You were ready to explode at this point due to embarrassment, anger, and fluster. "I swear I'm gonna murder you." You spouted, your face redder than ever.

"Alright fine, I'll cut it out, princess." Again with that goddamn forsaken nickname. Scaramouche had his signature cocky smirk on his face and you wanted so badly to wipe it off his face.

"Scara, if you don't have anything better to do, just leave. Cause unlike you, I'm actually trying to accomplish something here." You finally had enough of his bullshit at the moment and just wanted to study in peace.

"Chill, (Name). You're so fun to tease, you know that?" Scaramouche said with a chuckle. "But I'll stop for now, let's get to business, shall we?"

You sighed in relief and nodded at Scaramouche's words. You two surprisingly studied together often despite all the back and forth bantering. This was a common norm for you too. And surprisingly, you even started to look forward to it. You tried to dismiss those feelings every time it arised, but it grew increasingly challenging.

. . .

It was the weekend, you took a stroll in the park and sat down next to a tree. You deserved this break, you thought to yourself. After all, you've been working so hard lately. You felt youself drifting, struggling to keep your head up and eyes opened.

As you rested your head on the rough wood of the trunk, you sensed someone approach you. You jolted awake and turned to see the person in question, blinking a few times in shock.

"Didn't mean to wake you." The familiar purple haired boy muttered quietly as he bent down to talk to you.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You questioned, still not recovered from the sleepiness and the shock. Hell, you weren't even sure if you were hallucinating or not.

"Relax, princess. I was following this stray cat and I saw you here by chance." Scaramouche explained, pointing to the cat across you that was now eating out of a can of tuna. Did he feed it himself? You wondered, you thought this gesture was adorable and you didn't know Scaramouche had a soft spot for cats.

"Oh, what a coincidence, then." You simply commented, observing the cat silently. "Didn't know you liked cats." You added to keep the conversation going.

"Well yeah, I have a cat myself, and I've been seeing it a lot lately so I decided to follow its routine and feed it." You nodded at his words, about to stand up when Scaramouche reaches his hand to held you get up. You hesitate for a moment whether you should take it or not, in the end, you just took it. Your heart skipped a beat as you familiarized the feeling of his touch, his hands were rough and calloused, yet soft and slim at the same time. You muttered a soft "thank you," once you got up, averting your eyes from his gaze as you felt a bit shy.

"Wanna stroll on the park with me?" Scaramouche offered. It was an innocent and genuine question. Your heart was racing at the thought as you began to formulate a response, although you were struggling to.

"I.. um- sure" You mentally cursed yourself for slightly stuttering, but how could you not? You wanted to seem calm as if this wasn't affecting you in any way, but you probably failed the moment you held his hand.

You two decided to pick up on a trail by the riverside. It was quiet and peaceful. The wind was blowing on your faces, messing up your hair a bit. You listened to the rustles of the leaves and the songs of the humming birds. The momentary silence between you and Scaramouche surprisingly wasn't awkward at all, in fact, you found great solitude in it and you really wouldn't mind staying like this.

"Why were you on the brink of sleep in the park anyways?" Scaramouche broke the silence by his curious query, looking at you with a softness in his eyes that he only has for you, except you remain oblivious to this observation.

"I was just unwinding from everything. A tiny little break. I didn't mean to fall asleep but I really couldn't help it." You softly responded. "Oh, what about that cat anyways?" The thought suddenly went through your head, especially since you realized you just left the cat by the tree.

"That cat seemed to be happy with its lifestyle, being out and about all the time. I'll visit it from time to time, but I'd rather not disturb it."

"That's nice. Didn't know you had this side of you."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Won't you tell me some of those things then?" You asked with great curiosity and a genuine smile.

"I guess a big one is that I like you." Scaramouche suddenly revealed as you both stopped walking. Your eyes widened and your heart literally skipped a beat. You noticed a tinge of red on Scaramouche's ears and how he slowly looked away from you.

"What?" You needed confirmation that what you heard was true and your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. Maybe you were just hearing things, and the lack of sleep and stress was finally getting to you.

"I'm not repeating it. I know you heard what I said." Scaramouche finally looked back at you, but this time with an expression you've never seen on him before. He had a shy and worried look on his face, yet he was looking at you with the most loving and gentle eyes.

"I.." You felt your words get stuck on your throat, genuinely not knowing what to do or say. "I like you too.." You mumbled quietly, your eyes straying away from his gaze as as you said this. You couldn't look at him right now, it was all too much.

Scaramouche gently placed his hand on your face and gently rubbed your cheek with his thumb, making you look at him. The tension between you two right now was through the roofs and you both leaned in for a quick kiss.

You both smiled at each other before you pulled him into a deep hug. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, and the rest is history..

A/N: Hi, this is my first ever fic and I hope you enjoyed reading through it <3

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If I'm being honest, I'm not really a fan of how I progressed or wrote the story, but I'm too lazy to change things, and I decided to just post it nonetheless. I didn't proofread this so I apologize for any mistakes.

Thank you!

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU - Forging A New Path

Going through this and cataloguing everything I've written on Tumblr made me realise that there are several... holes. Things I thought I'd written that I hadn't. So, this is the first attempt at fixing that.

Because Oscar needs a weapon, too... Oscar bounced slightly next to Tip as they headed down to the armory in Atlas. Tip rather regretted that they'd left it quite this long to get Oscar a weapon truly customised to him, but the circumstances had meant that that had been impossible until now.

The original plan, of course, had been to do it at Haven, but... he didn't like thinking of that particular debacle, thank you.

He knew it had only been a few weeks since they'd arrived, but the old axe Oscar had picked up in the barn back in Mistral had certainly seen better days. He and the others had been able to protect his brother while he used it, but he knew exactly how bad it felt, to be useless. Besides, it was only later than the first day because Tip had been in the hospital, recovering from the crash. Oscar really should have gone alone, but his brother hadn't wanted to. Had reminded Tip that he needed to customise the rapier Qrow had given him, the one he'd privately been calling Old Regrets.

He supposed he did have a point, though he knew part of it was probably nerves. For all Oscar had been talking nonstop, trying to hide them, being in a room with weaponscrafters for the first time was often an experience. He remembered the first time, in this body, he'd seen a real workshop. The awe as he watched Hunters and craftsmen work together to forge what was, in all truth, a key part of their identity. The sketches and designs they'd created.

He glanced over at the sketch pad Oscar held protectively against his chest, wondering exactly what was in it. He knew Oscar had wanted to work on his weapon without his help, and while that stung slightly at the time, the part of him that was still an adult understood.

He needed things that were his, though he rather thought that Ruby had probably helped with the designs. Knowing her and weapons, he doubted anyone could truly have kept her away.

Opening the door to the forge released the usual blast of heat, though from Oscar's gasp, he hadn't been expecting quite how hot it was. It had been nice of James, to let them do this without oversight. But then, Atlas was safe.

He shook his head, banishing the thought that Beacon had been, once, too, and led the way inside.

Oscar couldn't help but stare around at the chaos. He'd been expecting military order of the scale he'd already half come to expect from Atlas, but this was more like an unstructured mess. But no, it wasn't, was it? There was a strange sort of streamlining to the way they worked, from fixing broken weapons, to the design tables, to forging new ones.

It was hard to remember, sometimes, just how long these forges had been around, far longer than the Academies, but it was nice to know that this was one place that even Atlas couldn't change.

At least he didn't think this was odd. Tip had grinned happily on entering, and seemed to know exactly what to do. It wasn't fair, just how fast his brother could move at times, but at least his silver hair was pretty identifiable, even amongst all the flashes, the smell of different hot metals, all the things he'd never seen before.

He felt Tip slip his hand into his, lead him over to a table staffed by a large woman with blonde hair, her muscular form giving little doubt that she worked here often. At least he knew where to go? Oscar was doubly glad, now, that he'd refused to go alone. He'd quickly get lost in a place like this.

"Ah", the woman said loudly, looking up at the two boys from where she'd been crouched, reading over some sort of incredibly complicated diagram. "You must be the Pine brothers. Here for weapons help, correct?"

Before either of them could answer, she'd started ushering them over to a free spot, paper and pencils in easy reach. Oscar felt her tug his sketchbook out of his hands, quickly flipping through the pages, making approving noises. At least he thought they were approving? He didn't know her well enough to tell. He didn't even know her name!

Tip tried not to laugh at the look on Oscar's face as the woman took his sketchbook. He'd been expecting it, having heard quite a lot about her from James over the years. She tended to frustrate him, but nobody could deny that she was efficient. She was also a lot older than she looked and predated James as Atlas staff by several years.

He suspected he knew what Oscar must see, looking around, but she'd built a reputation on being the best. In Atlas at least, he knew of several in Vale that would strenuously object to that particular description, though he hadn't heard of anyone who'd directly challenged her.

Soon enough, the book was given back. The woman smiled, but still didn't introduce herself. Tip itched to call her by her name, but there wouldn't be a good explanation as to how an eleven year old would know it. It was on the staff page, yes, but most of them weren't that well read. Could he get away with claiming he'd read it?

He looked up to see her staring at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Oh, well... he'd known there may be a few here who'd still recognise him as Ozpin. It didn't happen often, but he had tended to avoid many huntsmen since he became Tip. Oh, never deliberately, but maybe it had actually been a good idea.

She didn't say anything, just handed him a few sheets of paper and a pencil, her meaning clear enough. At least she could find some amusement out of this, though he didn't recall ever actually meeting her as Ozpin. But then, where else could she know him from.

"Your sketches are good, boy." She told Oscar, "I can see where you're coming from with your axe, though it could use just a few tweaks. I can point out where I'd make changes, but since your weapon is very personal to you, it is of course up to you as to whether you'll take my advice." There was a strange formality in her tones, though Oscar could hear the warning underneath. How many others must she have helped like this? And what had happened to those that hadn't taken her up on her offer of advice? He certainly wasn't going to ignore it, she seemed like she knew what she was doing. She was also a little scary... okay, maybe a lot scary.

Next to him, Tip was sketching the alterations to his rapier with quick, economic lines. He was even good at this? Oscar snorted to himself, was there nothing his ridiculously competent pseudo sibling couldn't do?

It felt like almost no time at all before Tip gave a pleased hum.

"I think I'm done, if you'd like to take a look? I would value a second opinion." The woman's gaze sharpened slightly, but she snatched the sheet so quickly she almost gave him a papercut. She nodded at it, too, though unlike Oscar she didn't seem to see any flaws. But then Tip was customising an existing weapon, Oscar was building something new. There were bound to be differences.

As they headed over to the forge to pick out materials, Tip thought he could pinpoint the exact moment Oscar lost himself in the process. He grinned to himself, leaving him to it as he went in search of some dust cannisters. It might be good as a temporary measure when he was this small. Besides, his new found family might be slightly upset with him if he didn't use any. He wasn't sure he really cared if he upset Winter, but upsetting Weiss never did seem to end well, and avoiding being on the recieving end of her glare was surely a worthy enough cause?

Later, once his sword had been customised, he glanced back at Oscar. Making, or even altering, weaponry was a hard business, but at least he seemed to be enjoying the process immensely.

Several people, over the course of his time working on his sword, had offered to help. From the way his hands throbbed, he knew he should have taken more advantage of the offers, but he so hated to be a burden. He knew more than enough about weapons crafting to know that the alterations were good, the sword fitting better in his hand, though nobody had let him actually do the forging. He supposed they might have a point, he'd never have let a child his actual age anywhere near one, and how were they to know any different? It still stung, though. He wasn't really a child.

Finally, after what felt like days, but was probably only really a few hours, Oscar's axe was ready. It shone in the lights, gleaming with copper and bronze highlights, he couldn't wait to try it out!

Unlike the axe he'd found, this one could shoot dust rounds, though he'd decided against it being able to fully shift into a gun. The axe blade split apart instead, running on a system of gears that he was really very proud of. He'd seen enough of the way Ruby and the others fought to appreciate the distance option.

This was what it felt like, to have a weapon that was truly yours? It was magical, everything Tip had told him it would be, everything the others had affirmed. It would be brilliant, getting into a fight and fighting alongside them properly. Maybe he could even protect them, for once?

He hurried over to where Tip was waiting for him, grinning broadly. Yes, this? This was one day he was never going to forget.