#i'm sure i messed up a bit somewhere
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🔗 Link to Google Doc.
This is how I built Vampire Ascendant Astarion in my latest Tactician playthrough. As a dual-wielding Gloom Stalker Thief, Astarion has his canon Rogue flavoring with the added bonus of the Ranger class’s Extra Attack and other sneaky, more martial abilities.
I like to run Astarion as a Thief Rogue, but Assassin Rogue also works well (though possibly with different gear – for example, you may want to use a longbow instead of dual hand crossbows).
The vibe of this example of a Gloom Stalker Thief is a stealthy, consistent damage dealer. When you reach Act 3, Astarion can focus on a 100-200 HP enemy and take it out (or at least whittle it down) easily. Or, he can spread his many attacks across lower HP minions and take out a bunch in one round.
Ranger has some good control-type spells, but I primarily run the Gloom Stalker Thief as a ranged martial.
This build is not reliant on elixirs, illithid powers, or mods. While I don’t think this multiclass is dependent on gear, the gear I’ve listed will go a long way in ensuring Astarion is a very competent machine gun. 🤗
Disclaimer: While I tried to powergame as much as I could with this build, I also wanted to keep it easy to follow and fairly thematic. I'm not claiming that this is the most powerful Vampire Ascendant build ever!
(Fair warning: Possible spoilers ahead!)
Levelling
I like to start Astarion out in Rogue for the canon flavoring and Extra Bonus Action (Thief Rogue Level 3). But once my party reaches Level 5, I’ll go to Withers and restart Astarion as a Ranger instead for the Extra Attack (Ranger Level 5).
How you progress in the levels is up to you – I recommend reading through the BG3 Wiki pages on Ranger and Rogue and see which of the classes’ benefits you think are most useful! These are just my personal preferences. I’ve also added a star (⭐) next to each of the features I tend to prioritize or take advantage of.
To start with, this is my Astarion’s base stats:
Astarion’s Wisdom Score should be higher than his Intelligence score; any spells he’d be using are Ranger spells (and Rangers cast off Wisdom).
This build guide assumes that Astarion is not the party face – therefore, it’s fairly safe to dump his Charisma stat.
Level 1: Rogue (Level 1)
Sneak Attack ⭐
Select:
Expertise: Stealth, Sleight of Hand
Level 2: Rogue (Level 2)
Cunning Action: Dash
Cunning Action: Disengage
Cunning Action: Hide
Level 3: Rogue (Level 3)
Improved Sneak Attack Damage (+1d6) ⭐
Select:
Subclass: Thief
The Thief subclass has the following benefits:
Fast Hands (Extra Bonus Action)
Second-Story Work (Resistance to Falling Damage)
Level 4: Rogue (Level 4)
Select:
Feat: Ability Improvement (aka ASI) = +1 DEX, +1 WIS ⭐
This should take his Dexterity to 18 and his Wisdom to 16.
Level 5: Rogue (Level 5)
Proficiency Bonus
Improved Sneak Attack Damage (+1d6) ⭐
Level 6: Ranger (Level 1)
Weapon Proficiencies: Simple weapons, martial weapons
Armor Proficiencies: Light armor, medium armor, shields
Select:
1st Favored Enemy: Bounty Hunter
1st Natural Explorer: Urban Tracker
Level 7: Ranger (Level 2)
Select:
Fighting Style: Two-Weapon Fighting ⭐
Spells: Ensnaring Strike, Hunter’s Mark
The Archery Fighting Style could also be good, but I run Astarion as equally reliant on his standard Actions and Bonus Actions – therefore Two-Weapon Fighting works for my build.
Level 8: Ranger (Level 3)
Select:
Subclass: Gloom Stalker
Spells: Fog Cloud
The Gloom Stalker subclass has some awesome benefits:
Dread Ambusher (Extra Attack during the 1st round of combat) ⭐
Dread Ambusher: Hide (Basically another Cunning Action: Hide)
Umbral Shroud (Become Invisible if Obscured)
Superior Darkvision (Darkvision is now 24m / 80ft)
Disguise Self (Gain the ritual spell Disguise Self)
Dread Ambusher, Umbral Shroud, and Superior Darkvision are probably the best features for the stealthy machine gun Gloom Stalker Thief.
Level 9: Ranger (Level 4)
Feat:
Sharpshooter (-5 to Ranged Attack Rolls, but +10 to Ranged Damage Rolls) ⭐
Level 10: Ranger (Level 5)
Extra Attack ⭐
Misty Step (from Gloom Stalker Subclass) ⭐
Select:
Spells: Spike Growth
Level 11: Ranger (Level 6)
Select:
2nd Favored Enemy: Mage Breaker
2nd Natural Explorer: Wasteland Wanderer: Fire
I selected Mage Breaker because I had Astarion’s backstory in mind – Cazador, Astarion’s ultimate antagonist, is primarily a caster during Astarion’s final quest battle. However, True Strike is a notably unhelpful cantrip, so you may want to choose a different Favored Enemy.
I selected Wasteland Wanderer: Fire because Fire is a common Damage type that enemies dole out. For the same reason, Wasteland Wanderer: Poison is also a good selection.
Level 12: Ranger (Level 7)
Select:
Spells: Silence
I picked Silence since it’s almost always useful, but if you have a Cleric (or another caster with access to Silence) on your primary team then you may want to pick a different spell.
Alternatives…
If you went 4 Rogue / 8 Ranger, you’d lose Rogue’s Uncanny Dodge and additional 1d6 damage on Sneak Attack (Level 5) – but gain Ranger’s Land’s Stride: Difficult Terrain (Level 8) and an additional Feat (Level 8).
If you went 5 Rogue / 5 Ranger / 2 Fighter, you’d lose Ranger’s additional Favored Enemy, Natural Explorer (Level 6), and additional spell (Level 7) – but gain Fighter’s Second Wind, Fighting Style (Level 1), and Action Surge (Level 2).
I picked a lot of offensive Ranger spells, but the Ranger class also has some great buff spells like Longstrider and Enhance Leap.
Final Composition
By Level 12, Astarion should have the following notable qualities:
Extra Attack and Extra Bonus Action, resulting in 4 possible Attacks per round.
Sharpshooter: On a ranged weapon hit, deal an extra +10 Damage.
Sneak Attack: On a Sneak Attack hit, deal an extra 3d6 (3-18) Damage.
Two-Weapon Fighting, which adds your Ability Score Modifier (+4) to the damage of your offhand attack.
Gear
I like to equip Gloom Stalker Thief Astarion with the following gear. The evil flavoring on some of the pieces (Helldusk, Bhaalist) definitely adds to the ambience of a Vampire Ascendant Astarion.
I’ve made a small note of why I equipped each piece of gear, but you can visit each Wiki link for the full benefits on each piece! None of this gear is really necessary (except maybe the Risky Ring), but I do recommend having Astarion dual-wield to take advantage of Thief Rogue’s Extra Bonus Action.
Headwear: Marksmanship Hat
+1 to Ranged Attack Rolls
Also, he looks cool in it. LOL.
Armor: Bhaalist Armor
Aura of Murder: Enemies within 2m / 6.5ft become Vulnerable to Piercing Damage (unless they are Resistant or Immune to it)
+2 to Initiative Rolls
Cloak: Shade-Slayer Cloak
Reduces the number needed to roll a Critical Hit while Hiding by 1
Handwear: Helldusk Gloves
+1d6 Fire Damage per Weapon Attack
+1 to Weapon Attack Rolls
Footwear: Helldusk Boots
Any boots that give Astarion the option to position himself more aptly are excellent. For example, the Disintegrating Night Walkers or Spaceshunt Boots are also very good.
Amulet: Amulet of Bhaal
On a hit, inflicts Bleeding on targets that have maximum HP
This feels very apt for a Vampire Ascendant.
Ring A: Risky Ring*
Advantage on Attack Rolls
Disadvantage on Saving Throws
*This ring is extremely important to the build, IMO! The Advantage on Attack Rolls does a lot to offset the -5 to Attack Rolls from the Sharpshooter feat.
Ring B: Caustic Band**
+2 Acid Damage per Weapon Attack
**This ring can add up to +10 Acid Damage, since you have four Attacks and an additional attack on your first round of combat from Dread Ambusher. However, this +8-10 may not be negligible by the time you reach Act 3 – instead, the Killer’s Sweetheart ring (basically one free Critical Hit on demand per long rest) may be more overall effective.
Melee Main Hand: Crimson Mischief
+1d4 Piercing Damage when you have Advantage on targets with <50% of their HP
+7 Piercing Damage when you have Advantage on a target
If you’re wearing the Risky Ring, you’ll almost always have Advantage, so the added Piercing Damages are basically a guarantee.
Melee Off Hand: Rhapsody
Scarlet Remittance: Gain +1 to Attack Rolls, Damage, and Spell Save DC for each foe you slay (up to +3)
Sweet Bloodletting: Possibly inflict Bleeding when hitting a target with this weapon while Hiding or Invisible
Rhapsody used to belong to Cazador – so I find it thematically fitting for a Vampire Ascendant Astarion to now use this knife. But if you’d rather avoid it, Knife of the Undermountain King is also a good one!
Ranged Main Hand: Ne’er Misser
Deals Force Damage rather than Piercing Damage
Gain one use of Magic Missile Level 3 per Short Rest
I like this hand crossbow a lot because some enemies are Resistant to Piercing Damage – but very few (if any?) are Resistant to Force Damage. But since it doesn’t deal Piercing Damage, this hand crossbow won’t benefit from the Bhaalist Armor’s Aura of Murder.
Ranged Off Hand: Hellfire Hand Crossbow
+2 Weapon Enchantment
Hellstalker: Possibly inflict Burning when attacking while Hiding or Invisible
Damage Numbers
After you finish leveling and equipping Vampire Ascendant Astarion, your final Damage stats should look something like the following table. When calculating these numbers, I assumed the following:
The target isn’t Resistant to Piercing, Force, Acid, Necrotic, or Fire Damage
No conditional Damage on Crimson Mischief
Sharpshooter is toggled on
(I tried to calculate the above numbers by hand… So apologies if my calculations are fudged due to an incorrect understanding of Damage rolls, haha! This should be approximately correct, at least.)
Example: Combat Against Githyanki
For an example of how this build plays, here’s how Level 12, Vampire Ascendant, fully equipped Gloom Stalker Thief Astarion did against a group of Vlaakith’s githyanki warriors (Elfsong Tavern) in Tactician:
Here, Astarion did 43+75+26+35 Damage, or a total of 179 Damage in one round. (And that’s with four Attacks instead of five.) This is pretty standard for how my Act 3 combats tend to go, so I think this is a fair representation of this Astarion build’s abilities.
Conclusion
Of course, there are many other builds for Vampire Ascendant Astarion that can also do ridiculous (if not far more!) Damage. For example, some powergamers will class Astarion as a Monk (usually with the Tavern Brawler feat) – whether that’s Way of the Open Hand for maximum Damage output, or Way of Shadow for more vampiric vibes – with a multiclass dip in Thief Rogue for the Extra Bonus Action. This gives Vampire Ascendant Astarion a standard six Unarmed Strikes per round of combat; he adds 1d10 Necrotic Damage to each of those for an additional 6d10 Necrotic Damage total.
And, of course, even without the Vampire Ascendant trait, this build tends to do a good deal of Damage and can work for any character (whether that be an edgy Tav, the Dark Urge, or a different Companion). For example, a lot of the infernal gear might be cool for a post-Pact Ranger Wyll.
Thanks for reading, and hope this gave you some ideas for your ranged martial builds! :)
#chelle.txt#ch.build#astarion#i have been working on this for a while now LOL#happy to finally post this!#apologies if the damage table looks wonky - i'm sure i messed up some math somewhere haha#and yes this build requires being a bit amoral since 1) ascension and 2) bhaalist gear#so it's definitely not for everyone#but i think it's fun!
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How many kisses I think it would take before he turns to mush
My creativity has been stuck in essentially a rush hour traffic jam for like weeks, so let's write something silly for practice, shall we?
Lucifer
Definitely ten or more. He tries to keep his composure, to focus on the task at hand, scold you for coddling him and distracting him, but if you hold onto your stubbornness and see it through to the end, he will be putty in your hands soon after you reach double digits. He might even fall faster if you give him little bits of praise after every kiss.
Mammon
Three MAX. One to catch him off guard, one to make it really sink in, and then the third to land the final blow. No amount of tsundere will outlast the triple attack. He'll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, almost demanding more. He's greed after all, three might've broken him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get more.
Levi
I would be tempted to say just one is enough, but we want a soft boy, not a vibrating, anxious mess. He gets tense at first, and he needs some reassurance and some time to understand that he likes and is okay what is happening. So I'm going to say five or more kisses. The first few he's just stuttering and blushing, but soon after, he can put that aside and just allow himself to relax a bit.
Satan
He acts like it takes him just as long as Lucifer, reaching double digits, when in reality he gave in internally much much earlier than that. Four is when his heart is melting and his mind is screaming, but around eight is when his body starts to unwind, almost curling around you like a cat.
Asmo
Much higher than you would expect. One must bridge the initial flirting phase before he becomes a puddle. I'm going to say probably six kisses. The first three he'll be giddy, but if you get softer with each kiss, he'll slowly start to become speechless.
Beel
As long as there isn't food in the way, just one. One kiss is all it takes. This demon has just so much love in him, you hardly need to kiss him for him to be soft for you. He doesn't need to put up an act. Just give him a single smooch and he'll drop whatever he's doing to cuddle into you.
Belphie
So many kisses. Probably even more than Lucifer. He feels like he deserves your kisses anyway, so it's hard to get him flustered about it, especially when he's so spoiled. Besides, you have to hope your affection won't lull him to sleep. Over ten for sure. Just keep going. Eventually, he'll be overwhelmed and give up his sleepy smug nature and transform into fluff.
Diavolo
Look me in the eyes and tell me this touch starved man will not cave after like two or three. He's not used to kisses, so the first kiss has his brain lagging. Hit him with the double combo and he's gone. Wasted. Fatality. Although please just kiss him more than twice. He really likes it.
Barbatos
Too many to count, unfortunately. He likes it, don't get him wrong, he's just tough to break. But there must be a breaking point somewhere. Keep attacking him with kisses and surely he must give in eventually, although most likely by his own will, giving in just so you can catch a proper breath. A win is a win.
Simeon
Probably no more than four, although it seems like more than that because he'll often return to sender and kiss you back. Don't give in, you must stay strong before he makes you melt first. Hum as you kiss him and he'll fall faster, almost cooing.
Solomon
He's got a stronger will than most, almost as good as Barbatos, but he will melt in due time. He'll treat it like a game at first, which it almost is to you, but he doesn't have to know that. It takes a while, but when he melts, he melts fast. He'll be trying to chuckle and make light of it one moment, and then be a completely speechless mess the next.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon
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Well I just read you newest story about y/n being Husker's younger sibling. Especially how much focus there was on Al just wanting to piss him off.
So if I might suggest: Alastor with a y/n who's Charlie's sibling/Lucifer's child. Seriously we saw him already losing it when all claimed to see a daughter figure in Charlie...Al flirting, etc. with a different child might actually kill him.
Anyway I love your work, keep it up ^-^
- 🖤
*cackles like an insane person*
Royally Pissed
Prologue
Alastor X Morningstar Reader
Warnings ⚠
⚠ reader is blonde for obvious reasons, cussing, mention of depression, angry short King ⚠
Lucifer treasured his children.
Of course he messed up at times, not every parent is perfect. Though he does regret not seeing his children all that often.
Charlie was doing something. Somewhere.
Shit, that sounds bad.
And you would come by and check up on him every so often.
While Charlie looked like him, she had her mother's height. You looked more like Litlith..but had his shortness.
Of course you were adorable!
His littlest one, born a few seconds after Charlie. Twins that came out like opposites in looks but similar in some ways.
He gifted you a rubber duck for every birthday. One that had a tutu, one that had multiple eyes, one that had a built in music box, one that had a jester hat, one that honked like a goose, one that-
Ok, it was a lot.
But you loved his duckies! You even had bookshelves just for them!
Currently you were with him in the castle. Or more like you being in the other room while he was working on another duck.
Then he got a phone call from Charlie.
"Daughter. Daughter calling!", he said in surprise.
After talking about Heaven and a bit about the hotel, he got excited when she said for him to come see the hotel for himself.
"My daughter wants to see me~!", he sang before pointing at a duck on the floor. "Take that depression!"
"Dad?", he heard you call out, finding you opening the door. "Do you want lunch now?", you asked.
Lucifer cheered out your name and grabbed your hands before twirling you around. "Charlie called! She invited me to her hotel thingy!"
"Oh, that's nice.", you said. "I hope you have fun."
"You can come too!", he stopped the twirling. "We'll all get to hang out again!"
You smiled and agreed.
"Great! We've got to be there in an hour!", he says before letting you go to skip out of the room.
Staying put, you glance at the rubber duck filled room with slight worry.
"It wasn't this bad last time.."
.
You stood behind your father as you both waited for the doors to open.
It's been a while since you last saw Charlie, it being around a few months. Looking around you can see she cleaned up the building quite well. It was more broken down when it first appeared on the news when she pitched her idea.
I'm glad she's doing well. You thought before hearing the door.
"Charlie!", your dad said with a wide smile, holding his arms open.
"Hey Dad.", your sister waved before getting glomped with a tight hug. "Uh..it's uh, good to see you too Dad.", she said before having to push him off to breathe.
Then she noticed you, saying your name in excitement.
"I would have done more if I knew you were coming to visit too!", she said and brought you into the hotel by your hand.
"No, you don't have to worry. I'm sure what you have is enough.", you reassured as you followed her in.
From the corner of your eye, you saw two demons right next to the door. On your right there was someone in red and turned your head to see a tall deer demon. Looking to your left, you saw a woman with long white hair and an X over her eye.
"Hello..", you waved with a shy smile.
.
Alastor glared down at the King as soon as the short man barged into the hotel.
How could that be more powerful than me? He thought as his eye twitched.
Then Charlie pushed her father off and excitedly greeted someone outside, grabbing their hand to bring them in.
His eyes widened at the smaller version of Lilith.
"Hello..", they waved shyly at everyone in the room.
And then the little cat that the Princess had walked over to greet the two.
"Kiki!", the two blondes kneeled down to pet the one-eyed feline.
After walking around, Lucifer commented on the bar, so Alastor teleported closer before speaking up.
"Just some of the renovations we had done!", he pointed at the bar with his microphone staff. "Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?", he said before facing the King.
He teleported even closer to the Kind and introduced himself after the monarch questioned who he was, shaking the apple cane instead of the King's hand.
As soon as the deer demon let go, he wiped his hand on his coat.
"You are much shorter in real life.", he said pinching his fingers a bit, emphasizing how small the blonde man was.
"Who is this? Who is this?", Lucifer asked and turned to his daughter once seeing her walk over. "Is this the bellhop?", he asked her.
"Aha! No!", Alastor said before fixing his bow. "I am the host of the hotel! You might of heard of me from my radio broadcasts."
"Hm. Nope!", the King pretended to think before dusting off his sleeve. "Maybe it's why Charlie calls it the HAZBIN hotel! Ah ha ha!", he nudges his daughter with his elbow.
"Ha ha ha!", the deer tilts his head at every short laugh that left his mouth before looking at his claws with a knowing smile. "It was actually my idea."
"Ah haha! Well it's not very clever!", the blonde replied leaning forward a bit.
"Ah ha!", the Radio demon laughed loudly before leaning down to meet the King's gaze. "Fuck you.", he said very clearly, static only in the background.
"OK!", Charlie pushed the two away. "Ok! Anyway!", she said as the two looked away from each other. "Dad!", she turned to her father.
While the two were occupied, he saw the small Lilith looking Morningstar talking with the others, wearing a bright smile as they laughed.
He focused back on the conversation when the Princess said his name.
"We wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much.", she said and the two blondes turned to face him.
"Charlie has a very unique vision!", he said with his usual smile as he walked over. "I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests!", he places a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
"Thank you Alastor.", the blonde smiled, feeling happy.
He noticed the way Lucifer hated it, and calmly smiled.
"Quite an impressive young lady.", he said and tilted the Princess's head up a bit with his hand before moving his claws back to himself. "We're all very proud of her.", he says and places an arm around her shoulder, pushing her a little close.
Having enough, the King cleared his throat.
"Charlie! Dear.", he said before pushing between the two, getting them separated. "Why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends!", he pointed towards the group with his end of his staff.
"Oh! Yes, of course!", Charlie said and began introducing Vaggie to her father.
Then someone got his attention with a tap on his arm.
Snapping his head towards the person, he saw the Lilith look alike move their hand back.
"Oh, I apologize. I called out to you but got no response.", they said with a bit of a frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"Upset?", he questioned, still wearing his smile.
"Yes, you furrowed your brows a bit when I tapped you.", the small blonde gestured with their finger.
How observant..
"No, I am not upset at all!", he gave a quick closed eyed smile. "And your name is..?"
"Oh, I'm-"
And then they were interrupted when the chandelier fell.
This was supposed to be a oneshot but then I remembered how detailed this would have to be.
~Seline, the person.
Part 1
Taglist@
@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @+?
ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon#x reader#the radio demon#gn reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel#reader looks like Lilith#Morningstar Reader#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#vaggie hazbin hotel#vaggie#charlotte morningstar#chaggie#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin fanfic#hehe short reader#we gotta#to keep it balanced
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it is morning aaaa
#🌙.vent#i swear i'll feel fine in a bit#i don't know what's been going in lately i'm too much of a mess ;;;;#i can't make sense of time nymore rn :/#last month feels like a dream#not sure if september ever existed nymore#n everything before that is long long past#i don't know what exactly is up w me rn :<#it's probably thanks to the sleep i need to rest properly#but it's so. it's so overwhelming#fuck the present is already too much n i'm trying hard not to think too much on the future#n the past too.... 🥹#but i need to be so much better i need to improve i need to handle this all#i should be able to. fuck#i'm like on the border of being fine but also Not st all#just barely holding on but it feels so empty#it hurts somewhere but it just feels so so empty right now#i feel better listening to like gbf ffxiv wtvr n thinking of fiction or wtvr but oh dear it really is just so overwhelming :<#i'm. fine. but. also just rlly so overwhelmed i'm sorry i'm so sorry it hurts it just hurts n i don't know#:< hdjskfksk how overwhelming though.... so much to do i can't help but be so harsh on myself it's so tiring#what a. lonely world i live in. i don't know what i'm doing anymore at this point#i can't bring myself to rlly do anything productive enough. i don't have energy but i'm just pushing my way through to get things done#they don't have too much meaning rn but like. i do mean it v much still but i feel so empty inside oh my god it hurts#ihatethisemptyfeelingsomuchitreallyhurtsijustwantittoendiwanttobebetteragain#aaaa i can do this just. keep on holding on ;;;; it hurts but i need to keep on going doing as much as i can
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forever mine... male reader
tw.. smut lol, toxic guy, really shitty guy, reader cheating, basically just rlly shitty and awful guy, dirty talk, degradation.
it was a usual sunday night and he was chilling at your place like always. he expected you to come home, get a quick fuck and maybe cuddle with you if doesn't have somewhere to be.
but tonight, he felt something was off.
when he entered your apartment with a key that he stole from you he knew something was off.
usually, you would be home already by this hour but the cold empty house said otherwise. worry started to cloud his mind.
he ignored it thinking maybe you just had to do overtime.
but what he did not expect was for you to come home with the smell of someone else's cologne on you.
" doll? why're you so late? and why do i smell someone else's cologne on you.. " he got up from his lazing around on the couch to confirm if it really was another man's perfume on you.
and boy was the smell strong.
not only that but he could see your lips a bit swollen and your dress shirt a bit messed up.
" hey.. i need to talk to you about something. " your voice was laced with guilt. he raised an eyebrow at that.
" yeah? it better be about why i smell another man on you. have you been whoring yourself out? " you looked away, as if what he said was spot on.
" ... let's break up. " your lips trembled. he darted his eyes to your face, looking for any sign that you were joking but your trembling lips and your reluctance to make eye contact just proved him to be wrong.
he balled up his fist while a sudden surge of annoyance and anger rose up in him. " no. I'm not letting you do that. "
you looked up at him in shock, " what.. what do you mean no? you— " you took a deep breath before releasing a long sigh.
" look, im not gonna deal with this now. i'm picking my stuff up tomorrow, don't wait for me. " you were about to storm out of your apartment for fresh air but were stopped by him.
his hand gripped your wrist quite harshly, making you unable to leave. " no no no.. i'll make sure you fucking stay tonight. "
fast forward to you with your ass up in the air and your face down in the pillows.
" shit.. look at this cute hole. who does it belong to again? " his husky voice sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to form a sentence.
" y— you! only you..! " a moan escaped your lips after you said that. he thrust his hips farther, pushing himself deeper into you. he smirks while watching how deep he really is into you.
he honestly wasn't even interested in you when he first met you. he just thought that you were cute and wanted someone to fuck around with for a while.
but something.. something about you just made him so infatuated with you and even without him realizing it, you had successfully invaded his mind.
he flips you over as he pushes your legs up into a mating press. you whined out loud at the stretch. you swear you could see stars from how deep he is into you.
" so doll, do you still want to break up with me hm? " his voice slaps you back to reality as you shake your head repeatedly. " no no.. 'm forever yours! "
he smirks at your response, enjoying your dumb fucked up face.
" yeah.. that's right. forever mine yeah? then you won't mind if i stuff you full, right? " you didn't think twice before nodding, the idea of being filled up too tempting to decline.
a lazy smile stretches itself onto his face while he grips your hips. he quickened his pace and started relentlessly pounding into you like a dog in heat.
" mmh.. fuck gonna mark this hole as mine.. you would want that, wouldn't you? "
moans and whines spew out of your mouth, too fucked out to even respond to him but it's alright, he knew you wanted it anyways.
his thrust starts to stutter as he nears his orgasm. curses fall out of his mouth as he grips your hips tighter, getting ready to finish in you.
you begin to grind against him as a way to chase your release, your own cock twitching.
your cum shoots out of your dick, meaningless blabber escaping your mouth with it. you arch your back as you feel his own load coming inside of you.
white begins to paint your walls with some escaping and dripping out of you and onto your sheets. " oh shit, i can get addicted to this.. " he said as he dropped you back on the bed.
your eyelids start to flutter shut but a slap on your thigh woke you up. " i'm still not done with you, whore. don't think you can sleep well after cheating on me with another man. "
you look up at him, as if pleading him to go easy on you but it was all turned to a blind eye.
he flips you over again before shoving into you with no warning. luckily the lube and his cum from earlier made it less painful.
you whined out loud knowing how it's gonna be a long night.
a few rounds passed by and here you are, passed out with your boyfriend behind you. his dick was still inside of you, dried up and fresh cum seeping out of you.
with his newly found obsession with you, he can't possibly let you go now.
this was from my other acc that i wanted to keep fully sfw lol
#tyunniez 🕷#bottom male reader#bttm male reader#male reader#uke male reader#x male reader#male x male smut#amab reader
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Do you want me to help you?
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: As you and Bucky spend time at your place, things get hot pretty fast.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: +18❗️smut, subby Bucky, he's jetting his first blow job, come eating.
Author's note: enjoy<3
It was another Friday night when you invited Bucky to your place so you could order some food, watch movies, and cuddle under the blankets.
You and Bucky met almost six months ago at the coffee shop. You were walking in when someone suddenly bumped into you, and you ended up lying on the ground with a large coffee stain on your pink blouse. The man who caused this mess ended up being an Avenger. Sergeant Barnes, a former Winter Soldier, was really cute when he got all nervous and couldn’t stop apologizing for the situation. He said that he really needed to be somewhere else, so he took your number with a promise to pay you for everything and ran away, leaving you with shock and excitement bubbling in your body.
You were too stunned to speak, because not only was it an Avenger, but it was Bucky fucking Barnes—the person whose whole biography you willingly studied in school. He was much taller than you imagined and definitely more attractive. His apologies seemed to be really sincere, so you were just stupidly nodding while he was speaking. Bucky asked for your phone so he could call himself and have your number until he would have time to properly make amends.
Then you didn’t know that you had just met your future boyfriend.
Soon he called you and asked you to meet him at the cafe, and you agreed without any hesitation. He was too sweet for his own good, and that minidate was one of the best experiences that you’ve ever had.
Now, you don’t know how you ended up in this situation, but you were sitting on Bucky’s lap on your couch while the two of you were too lost in the kiss.
Of course, you have already kissed, but most of the time it wasn’t too rough or desperate. You knew that Bucky had hard times trusting people, so you didn’t push him with anything. You were happy just to be with him, and if he needed time to start touching you or have sex, it was okay.
But right now, something has changed. His hands were gripping your thighs, pushing you harder on his erection in the jeans. Bucky kissed you like a starving man; his tongue was in your mouth, and he had already bit your lower lip several times. You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t even notice that you started moving your body against his.
At that moment, he came to his senses, stopped your hips with his hands, and pulled out of the kiss, breathing heavily.
"What happened?" You asked while trying to catch your breath. "Was it too much?"
"I don’t know." He looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were much darker than usual. "It was too long ago, and I'm not sure that I’m ready right now." He looked down as if he were ashamed to say this.
"That’s okay, baby, I promise. We can go at your own pace. I didn’t have sex for some time too, so that’s okay." You smiled at him while your hand found a place on his stubbled cheeks.
"It’s not just a few years." He mumbled.
"What?"
"I haven’t had sex since I went to war." Silence fell on you while you were trying to process his words.
"Wait… really?" He nodded.
"You know, while I was with HYDRA, I was busy with different… things. And after that, I was just trying to get back to a normal life."
"I see, but I really thought that you at least were with someone in Bucharest or in Wakanda."
"No. In Bucharest, it was unsafe to even go out in the streets, and in Wakanda, every woman was for me like a sister, you know? You are the first one who I wanted to know as more than a fri-Oh, shit!" He suddenly gasped. You just wanted to move a little bit, but instead, you accidentally touched his erection.
"Oh my God, I’m sorry!"
"T-that’s okay, just don’t move, please. It will disappear." Bucky threw his head back on the couch and closed his eyes tightly.
"Do… do you want me to help you?" You asked almost innocently. "I mean, we don’t have to have sex, but I can do other things to help your problem."
There was another awkward silence when Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
"You don’t have to do that. Really."
"What if I want to?" You moved closer to his face, almost touching his lips. "Would you let me take care of you?"
Bucky’s eyes were dark again, full of need and lust. Finally, he nodded slightly. You gave him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, and not wanting to waste any more time, you slipped from his lap onto the floor.
"Wait! You want to—you don’t have to—I mean– fuck." Bucky hid his face behind his hand from embarrassment. You act like a fucking child.
"Hey, baby. Talk to me. It’s okay." You put your hands on top of his, pulling them away. "What happened, James? You thought I meant to help you with my hands?"
"Mhm. I’ve never done this before." He mumbled something that you almost didn’t understand. Bucky's face was pink, so you put your hands on his burning cheeks to calm him down. "I’m sorry that I’m such a mess."
"You’re not a mess, Bucky. So you’ve never got a blowjob? Even before the war? I thought you were a ladies’ man." You asked gently.
"I was, but back in the day, it was hard to find a girl that would do it just because, you know? Sex was more available because blowjobs were more intimate, I guess. And I’ve never had real relationships, sooo." He just shrugged, feeling even more embarrassed.
"I understand. And that’s okay if you don't have experience in something. You don’t have to be ashamed, at least not with me. I still want to do this, if you don’t mind." Bucky nodded again before leaning closer to your face and kissing you with passion.
While you were kissing, your hands slipped from his face, running across his chest and abs, right to the bottom of his jeans. You pulled away from the kiss and pushed Bucky back onto the sofa. As soon as the pants were unbuttoned, he helped you pull his clothes lower, and you gasped.
His beautiful dick was standing right in front of your face. Hard, thick, with a vein from one side and pre-cum leacking from the tip. Honestly, you’ve never found them attractive, but it seemed like Bucky was perfect everywhere, so the sight before your eyes made your mouth water.
"Holy shit." You breathed out as your hand wrapped around him, and the fingers barely even touched each other. Your boyfriend’s body instantly tensed; he was not used to this kind of touch. You gave him a few strokes, seeing how his eyes rolled back in pleasure and a tiny moan escaped his mouth. "You know, that’s a shame that no one put this pretty cock in their mouth." You smiled as Bucky’s ears got pink from your praise. "Look at me."
As soon as he did as you told him, you looked directly into his eyes and licked him from the bottom to the top, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste instantly filled you, and you slightly moaned, sending vibrations down Bucky’s body.
He tried to hold himself together. He really did. But the sight of you on your knees, looking him in the eyes with his cock in your mouth, He completely lost it and let out the loudest moan that he had ever made. Both metal and flesh gripped the sides of the couch, but the pleasure was too intense, and he was overwhelmed.
You started moving your head up and down, still looking Bucky in the eyes. The tip of his dick met your throat, but there were still a few inches left.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Y/N, holy shit!" He whined and threw his head back.
You let him slip out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and started stroking him with a hand, using the mixture of your saliva and Bucky’s pre-cum to make it easier.
"Put your hand on my head, baby. Do whatever you want." Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then his right hand fell on top of your head and made a messy ponytail. You smiled and put your lips back on his dick, gently licking and sucking the tip. The hand on your head slightly pushed you down, and you allowed Bucky to control you.
He slipped back into your mouth until his head touched the back of your throat. You started moving on your own, but Bucky’s hand was still tightly holding your hair as he was showing you the pace that he liked. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dripping down your chin, but you didn’t care about it when your boyfriend was such a mess.
Bucky’s eyes were partly closed as he was trying to look at the beautiful view before him. Your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock, and it was probably the hottest thing that he had ever seen. He couldn’t hold back the small moans escaping his mouth because it was too good—feeling your warm and wet mouth around him. He tried not to push you too hard, but from time to time his grip tightened and his hips moved by themselves, making you choke.
"Doll." Bucky moaned. "Please, baby, I’m so close, oh my– fuck." He instantly pushed you lower, but you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you moaned around his cock, lifting your free hand on his torso under the shirt. You felt that his body was tense, and the muscles under your fingers were trembling. You knew that Bucky was close, so you ran your nails over the hot and soft skin. "Doll– doll, you should move. I’ll cum– fuck, please." Bucky whined and tried to take you off of him, but you didn’t let him and instead swirled your tongue around him.
You felt it before it happened: Bucky’s body tensed, his cock twitched, and a loud moan filled the room. In a second, your mouth was filled with a warm, a little bit salty, and a little bit sweet seed. You moaned at the taste, still sucking his dick until you knew that he had completely finished, and only then swallowed every single drop.
Bucky’s hand fell out of your hair on the sofa near him, and he was sitting there almost senseless with heavy breathing and closed eyes. You helped Bucky put himself back into pants and then sat on his lap again.
"James?" You gently put your hand on his face.
"Mm." Bucky finally opened his eyes, and you have never seen him in this condition: sleepy, relaxed, with a tiny, lazy smile on his face. "Can’t believe that you just did it, doll. It was better than any sex that I’ve had in my life." He leaned into your touch. Bucky grabbed your face and dragged you closer until you two connected in a kiss, and he could taste himself on your tongue.
"I’m glad you liked it."
"Liked? Doll, you almost sucked my soul out." He chuckled. "Now I have to pay back." Suddenly, one warm and one cold hand were under your pajama shorts.
"Not today, baby. You’re tired. Would you stay for a night?" You bumped your nose with his, leaving light and short kisses on his lips.
"Of course, doll."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#marvel#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you
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Hi there! I really love your comics and how expressive they are. How do you go about making the characters in your comic so expressive?
thank you! 💚💜💚 I am REALLY bad at explaining things, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but maybe there's something helpful in here somewhere. :')
1. warm up! drawing is a physical activity, after all! so if I'm planning on sitting down and drawing for a while, I usually start off by taking a couple of minutes to doodle a bunch of circles and lines and random shapes, just to get my drawing arm goin' again and get back into the physical groove. just stuff like this:
and just do that for however long you feel like! you can kind of feel when your arm starts to loosen up and your strokes get more confident. it makes it a lot easier to get those swoopy big lines and gestures!
2. play around with how you use your lines! paying attention to the shapes that they're making will change a lot about how much force and life your drawing feels like it has. (no way is better than another, it just depends on what effect you're going for and how it looks as part of the larger whole.)
and you can also use lines against each other to get different vibes:
it's not really a matter of "you need to make sure all your lines are always doing this all the time", it's more like...being aware of it, and getting that into the general thrust of a pose, if that makes sense? like a lot of smaller lines of action, beyond the big one that goes through the spine.
(just gonna use my own art as examples, apologies)
if you have a good foundation of tension, then all of the little bumps and contours of a character's details won't get in the way of it, and it'll still come through.
and don't forget about negative space either! the spaces between things have their own interesting shapes too!
I don't mean this to come off as, like, all these extra things that you need to be constantly thinking about and stressing over. more like...just try different stuff and then see how it works and how it changes the feeling! if you find a good shape, see if you can exaggerate it and make it more interesting, and how that affects things! angles and shapes are a LOT of fun to experiment and mess around with, especially when you're going more cartoony. :D
3. acting!
just...spending a little time to think about what the characters are actually doing! (aka the "figuring out what everyone is doing with their hands" bit.) this is more a personal preference, but especially in multi-panel comics, I like to have them be in the middle of doing stuff. not just big actions, but smaller things -- like even just how they're sitting or standing -- so that it feels like we're looking in on the middle of a scene, instead of a couple of characters just standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead while talking at each other.
this probably sounds really obvious, but it is one of the most fun parts for me! I love trying to find some little action or something that they can be involved in, especially if it's relevant to their character or adds an extra joke. (for some reason this usually involves me being mean to Sebek) (I'm sorry)
it doesn't need to be everyone Always! Doing! Something! all the time, especially if starts becoming distracting (sometimes they do actually need to just be standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead, especially if there's a bigger action going on that you want the audience to focus on instead). but even just figuring out some kind of non-neutral pose for them to be in can add a lot and make it feel less generic!
3. thumbnailing!
this is, again, very much a personal preference; unfortunately, every artist really is different, and we all have different processes that work better for us. so I can only speak to my personal experience! but I find what helps is to start REALLY rough -- not so much as in messy, as in not trying to start right into actually drawing everything out. like, literally just starting with stick figures and :O faces.
it probably doesn't sound relevant when talking about Drawing Expressively, but I find it's really, really helpful to have already figured out what everyone should be doing (acting!) and what the overall general layout and flow of things should be, before getting into the actual meat of drawing the characters. like having a sketch for the sketch!
(good compositional flow is something I struggle with, and text layout especially, so this stage also helps a LOT with making sure things are fitting where I want them and staying consistent/not breaking screen direction/etc.)
then after that, I can go ahead and focus on getting those Shapes and Lines and Angles and all that, without having to think too much about the layout or where things should go!
(of course, the downside of that is that my thumbnails are usually way better than my actual drawings, alas alas.)
4. this is more philosophical, but...give yourself some slack. the stress of Making Things Look Good is, ironically, often the biggest problem. (see: thumbnails looking better than the actual drawings.) so...let yourself draw shittier and without regards to accuracy. make things just for yourself without thinking about posting or showing them to anyone else. draw stupid faces and wrong proportions because they feel better that way. focus on what's fun and not on getting a perfect end result. "draw expressively, not well", as they say -- you can always tighten up things like proportions and details later, if you really want to.
that's all WAY easier said than done -- god knows I haven't really managed it -- but even just aiming for that attitude really, REALLY helps. if your lines are confident, they'll look a lot more alive and expressive than lines that are exactly technically precise but have no rhythm in them. (this is why tracing photographs tends to look so weirdly stiff and unrealistic, by the way -- even if you're drawing realistically, you usually need to exaggerate and stylize a little bit so it doesn't look lifeless.) it's a balance between caring about what you draw, but also being willing to let things go a little bit.
↑ I hope some of this helps! I don't know if any of this was actually what you had in mind, let alone much of it actually made sense outside of my head. :') but hopefully you (or other people) will be able to get something out of it!
#art#twisted wonderland#(not really related but since that's what the examples are)#i'm so sorry most of my art advice boils down to 'SHAPES ARE FUN'#(they are though)
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Random thought! Rebellious boyfriend Gojo Satoru X shy nerdy reader anymore cause now reader Chan is
"I'm pregnant!"
You're eighteen years of age, and you are still a senior in high school. You only had a few more months until college entrance exams and graduation, but the choice you made to sleep with your boyfriend on the night of his birthday is how you ended up in this situation.
But how? He was wearing a condom that night and when he finally pulled out of you a few long hours of passionate sex, the condom he used still held his cum. So how and why? You probably know the answer; it must have been ripped somewhere, but you didn't want to admit that.
You're devastated, to say the least. You couldn't stop crying as you stared at the pregnancy test in your hand. What were you going to do now, keep the baby? What if your boyfriend hates you for this? How is he even going to react? How are you even going to tell him?
Well, there's only one way to find out. He was already on his way to Shoko's house after receiving a message asking him to come over as quickly as possible.
So, in a matter of minutes, he was at her house in her room sitting on the bed with you and the pregnancy test in his hand. You couldn't look at him, too afraid of what his face might look like. Too afraid of what he might say. You were just preparing for the worst-case scenario.
"Take another one, just to be sure."
That is what he said to you, shocking you, Shoko, and his best friend Geto that somehow tagged along to be a part of whatever that was about to happen.
That was the last thing that you're expecting. And honestly you were about to ask him why you need to take another pregnancy test when he already had one in his hand that clearly reads positive, but then he rested his hand open your cheek and whispered, “Please, take another just to be sure.”
So you did, and after five minutes of waiting, the second test came back positive.
“You really are pregnant,” he said in disbelief. He tossed the test on the bed and rested his face in the palm of his hands. Reality finally hit him all at once. “Shoko, Sugu, can you leave us here for a moment? I want to talk to Y/N alone.” And they left, not without looking back at the both of you, though.
Soon, the door closed, leaving a weeping and almost drained looking Gojo Satoru. There is a moment of silence, an uncomfortable silence that had you assuming the worst. Is he going to break up with you? Is it over? You couldn't help the thoughts that were running through your mind all at once, the anxiety you felt sitting next to him as you waited for him to say something to you. Then, finally, he spoke.
“Y/N I…”
“Are you going to break up with me?” You said to him, bursting into fits of tears. Gojo’s eyes grew wide, and his hand quickly slung itself around your shoulder to pull you closer. “Please don't break up with me… I didn't… I-I.”
“Y/N, baby, calm down. Who said anything about breaking up,” Gojo said, quickly pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his other hand around your waist. You laid your head on his shoulders, tears still running down your face and soaking his shirt.
“I… I just thought that. I mean, we aren't ready for… you didn't - I'm sorry. I'm just scared.”
“And I'm scared too,” he admitted. “But I’m not going to break up with you. I told you haven't I that you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together."”
“But I messed up. I… I caused such a huge mess that is going to ruin your life and, and I- I…”
Unable to finish your sentence, Gojo gently fisted his hand in your hair and pulled your head back a bit just to kiss your lips in hopes that it'll calm you down. It broke his heart to see you in tears over something that wasn't your fault. If anything, he should be blamed.
He should have checked the condom for leakage when he pulled out. He should have been more prepared. After all, he has a bit more experience than you, so he knew that it only takes one time, one slip up for you to get pregnant.
“Y/N,” he whispered your name against your lips. He gave you one last reassuring kiss then he said, “If you are looking for someone to blame, then put it all on me.”
“But… but I can't do that to you,” you cried.
“Yes you can, because I knew better. I should've been careful knowing that anything can happen during sexual intercourse. So if you want someone to blame…”
“No I won't, I can't,” you quickly spoke.
He sighed, “Alright then,” before pulling you into a warm hug. You both sat there in silence for a while, Gojo was raking through his mind, thinking about what he possibly could say next. Well, he knew what he wanted to say to you, but he didn't want his opinion to sway you away from yours.
“What do you want to do?”
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His little Sister: I'm sorry
Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.
Word count: 4k
Warnings: none that I know of
Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!
Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.
Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal.
Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.
Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary.
Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room. For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”
“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.”
Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand.
Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle.
It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?” And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe.
Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night.
If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him.
He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session.
Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own.
As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta.
The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand.
Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him.
Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training.
Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him.
“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again.
“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest.
But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!” Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed.
“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him.
“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.”
Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel.
Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe.
That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house. Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down.
“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.
“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’
“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”
The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.”
Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.
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#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel angst#azriel one shot#rhysand x sister!reader
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And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4
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That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity.
But he couldn't be further than wrong
Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.
—-----------------
“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.
“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning isn’t your forte.
“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence.
So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared.
—--------------
“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.
“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.
“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.
“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.
“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.
“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.
“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.
“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.
“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.
“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.
“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.
“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.
“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.
“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.
“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.
—-----------
So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.
One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.
It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.
John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.
You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable.
“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder.
“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.
John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?
—-------------
“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.
“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.
You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.
“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.
“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.
“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.
“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.
“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.
“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.
“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.
“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room.
You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.
—----------
You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.
“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.
“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.
“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.
“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.
“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.
“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say.
“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame.
“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.
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comments and reposts and appreicated <3
thankyou for all the love on this story so far.
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#captain price x female reader#angst#john price#barry sloane#captain john price#john price x reader#task force 141#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#cod x reader#cod mwii#john price x y/n#john price x you
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shoto, very suggestive, mention of cunninglingus, 500ish words
Thinking about Shoto, your sweet, naive boyfriend, who just doesn't get it most of the time, and how he comes to you one day, asks in the sweetest tone, in the most unbothered way imaginable, if he can eat you out.
And by god does it take every bit of your patience not to call up every last friend of his until you find exactly which one of them put that phrase in his vocabulary.
Instead, you press the pages of the book you were reading closed, turn to him calmly though you're feeling anything but, fold your hands in your lap as if you're heart isn't running a marathon in your chest.
You'd been intimate before, but never like that.
Wandering hands, and heated kisses, and seeing each other in your most raw, and intimate state is one thing - Shoto tasting you is another. Not that you didn't want it, not that he didn't want it either. You just didn't want to go too far, too quick, didn't want to push him out of his comfort zone, didn't want to mess up something so good.
It's why you don't take him seriously when he asks something so out-of-pocket, suggestive in ways you've never known him to be. Why you're absolutely, surely, positive, he isn't asking permission to be in between your thighs, why you're sure he must've heard something wrong, got the meaning twisted somewhere along the way. It's the very same reason you straighten your shoulders to hide the way your knees press together when he adds a little "please" to the end.
"Shoto," you say with as much indifference as you can muster. "That doesn't mean what you think it does, I'm sure you probably think it means to go out to eat, or that-"
He shakes his head, lays a hand just above your knee, squeezes gently until whatever excuse you were blubbering dies on your tongue.
"That's not what it means," he says in the exact tone you use when explaining something obvious to him. "Do you want me to explain it to you?"
You hate how innocently he tilts his head, red hair falling softly over one eye, hate how the butterflies burst, warmth spreading over your cheeks and down between your thighs, because you know he doesn't mean it like that.
"No, Shoto, I-" you sigh, carefully thumb the cover of your book. "It's just, I don't think you know what it means."
You think you hear something like amusement rumble in his chest; it's rare, Shoto's laughter. You've heard it on occasion, fell for the soft reverberation and crescent-moon crinkle to his eyes. But this, this is different.
"I know what it means," he says, matter-of-factly, small, crooked smile tugging the corner of his lips.
He drops to his knees, and you promptly forget how to breathe. His dual gaze finds you from beneath dark lashes; one bright and blue, and eager, the other grey like smoke, clouded with something imploring - it fills your lungs until you can feel just how much he wants you with every bated breath.
His hands are warm when he kneads the fat of your hips between slender, calloused fingers. "So can I?"
Maybe Shoto gets it more often than you give him credit for.
#shoto#shoto todoroki#shoto x reader#shouto x reader#shoto x you#shouto x you#shoto x y/n#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha x you#mha x you#...do you ever feel some type of way about your own writing?#something about shoto saying do you want me to explain it to you is making my head spin idk idk idk
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Sleep Well
Gale x Reader (Baldur's Gate 3)
Rating: Explicit. 18+ only.
CW: AFAB reader, no pronouns or names used. Graphic descriptions of oral sex. Mentions of p.i.v.
Since I hit 69 followers on this blog, you all voted if I should celebrate by writing something, and I did. Enjoy! This is my first time writing for Gale and I don't expect it to be my last.
Gale sighed and put down the book he'd been reading. He yawned and stretched like a cat, his fingers finding your hairline and gently stroking. "Shall we go to bed, my love?"
You nuzzled your cheek into his thigh where you lay. "Mm, I think I could stay like this forever."
He chuckled, tracing the line of your cheekbone with his thumb.
"As could I, but we have a long day of travel ahead of us. We need to be well rested for whatever tomorrow will bring."
You pouted, nestling your face further into his lap. "But I'm so comfortable here," you complained, only half in jest. "And I'm not sleepy."
Gale sighed. "The rest of camp is surely asleep by now. We have already stayed up a bit too late reading. We should-"
You cut him off. "Well, if the others are all asleep..."
You turned your head ever so slightly, meeting his warm gaze. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. The look in them was one of pure adoration, no secrets swimming in their depths. From the moment he had confessed his love to you, any reservations he had held had melted away at the assurance of your hand in his. He loved you.
A smile teased at his lips. "Oh, I see. Perhaps you want me to, erm, wear you out? Make sure you sleep well tonight?"
You nodded, blushing slightly.
He hummed approval, easing you off of his lap as he pulled off his tunic. His broad chest, tattoo tracing its way from his heart to his cheek, was softly illuminated in the candlelight.
"Come here." His voice was thick with arousal, somewhere between an order and a plea. He could have been begging, he could have been demanding. You stood, shucking off your own nightclothes, before kneeling, straddling his head, but not lowering yourself fully. Close enough for him to smell your arousal but not letting him taste you yet.
He groaned, hands rising to your hips as though to pull you onto him, hold you steady while you rode his tongue as you had many times before.
You grasped his fingers before he could pull your hips down, close the distance between your slick cunt and his warm mouth. He let out a small whine of protest. He was hungry for you.
"Is this what you want?" You teased, "do you want me to sit down? Do you want to taste me?"
Gale let out a low moan. "You know that's all I want, all I've ever wanted. I crave your nectar." So poetic, even with his pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed.
"Then you're going to have to let me taste you first." A wicked grin spread across your face as you lifted up, gently pushing his hands down to his sides.
"My love, you know you never have to--that I never expect you to--Aah!" Gale gasped sharply as you unlaced his breeches and pulled them down, exposing his already hard cock to the night air filling his tent. Running a finger up the vein on the underside, you smiled. "Good boy, already so hard for me. You know exactly what I want, don't you?"
Pressing a kiss to the head, you scooted down so that you were resting on your stomach between Gale's thighs. You knew that if you didn't take him like this, he would be content to make you cum against his mouth again and again, only seeking his own pleasure once you were a mewling mess begging for him to fill your sensitive, twitching pussy. You loved that about him--how could you not be damn near addicted to such a generous lover?
But as delightful as it was to watch him shudder with desire just from giving you orgasm after orgasm, you found that there was a very real part of you that wanted to do the same for him. Make him squirm and whimper your name, bucking his hips into your hand as you stroked him. Take his cock into your mouth until you were choking on it, tears streaming down your face. See, you would think, see how completely undone I am for you? How I worship you every bit as much as you worship me?
This was one of those nights. Just as you were lowering your head about to start sucking at his cock, Gale placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. "No, not like this."
Immediately, you sat up. "What's wrong? We can stop if you're uncomfortable or too tired or--"
He cut you off with a low laugh.
"No, no. What you were about to do is.... delightful. Please, do not think that the feeling of your lips around me does not drive me wild. It does, most assuredly. I simply want--I still want to taste you. In fact, I'd prefer to taste you while you do that, if it's all the same to you."
You felt your eyes widen. "Absolutely," you choked out, "I would love that."
Rising from between his legs, you crouched above his face once more, this time facing his crotch. The moment you lowered yourself fully onto Gale's lips, his cock twitched and a small bead of precum bloomed from the tip.
You rocked your hips slightly against him, the friction sending jolts of pleasure along your clit. Moaning, you leaned forward, gently pulling his thighs toward you for balance. With his feet flat on his bedroll, Gale spread his legs. You bent forward, taking his tip into your mouth and licking the precum from it. Gently, you flicked your tongue across the slit there, widening the circle until you were tracing the flare at the base of the head with just your tongue.
He moaned into you and the vibration of the sound made you let out a whine of your own, muffled by your mouthful of cock.
As your pace quickened, the careful patterns Gale had been tracing along your folds became more frenzied. His fingers, usually so gentle, dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled himself deeper into you, tongue flicking into your vagina with a desperation you'd never felt from him before, even on your first few nights together. If you hadn't had your mouth full, you thought you would have been screaming his name.
Instead, you moaned louder against his shaft as your head bobbed, taking every inch of him if only to stifle the sounds he was rending from you as he tonguefucked you. It was too much. You came with a gasp, needily grinding against his chin as he kept licking and sucking you through your orgasm.
Even though you had stopped working him as you came, the sound and taste of your orgasm sent him rutting up into your mouth again, rougher this time, thrusting up into your mouth while you held your head still and came down from your high. He was close, you could tell from his whimpers that he was about to spill. Once you could breathe again, you pulled a hand from his leg and began to stroke him, his shaft slick with your spit, as you ran your tongue along the head. Faster, faster, until he came, his load spilling down your throat with a beautiful moan.
You swallowed, your throat contracting as you licked the last of his cum from his still twitching dick.
Gingerly, you rolled off of him and resituated so that you were lying on the bedroll beside him, your faces only inches apart. Gale rolled onto his side and kissed you, deeply, sloppily. You tasted yourself on his tongue and knew he must taste the salty tang of his semen in your mouth as well.
Satisfied and slightly out of breath, he pulled back. "Was that...what you...had hoped for?" He gasped.
"Oh Gale," you murmured as you buried your face in his chest, "I don't even know where to start." Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.
Gale raised one big hand to cradle your face. "Start with sleep, my darling."
#gale dekarios#bg3 gale#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale of waterdeep#gale x afab!reader#gale x gn!reader#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale bg3#bg3 x reader#gale#mine#gale smut#bg3 smut
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i can't handle change - leah williamson x reader
part two of let down
pairing: leah williamson x barça!reader
warnings: bit angsty
You had expected your first day, merely a day after arriving in the city, to be full of football. Barcelona did media duties occasionally, for sure. But you had expected to throw yourself into training immediately here, mostly in an attempt to conceal your emotions and at least act as though you wanted to give everything for this club. In truth, you wanted to give everything for yourself. You wanted to keep yourself a candidate for the national team, you wanted to keep yourself a candidate for Barcelona once they were ready to sign you back, you wanted to play, partially, out of spite as well. Anger was one of the emotions in your mess of a mind, and although you knew that it was no use, you wanted to show Jona the mistake he had made.
What you hadn't expected was the absolutely overwhelming amount of cameras, catching every inch of you they could. London Colney, otherwise known as the Arsenal training centre, was nice, but it was different from what you were used. The corridors were small and you feared they'd squish you if you stared at the white walls for a second too long. The friendly woman from the entrance, who's name you had missed due to her heavily accented English, had led you all the way to Jonas' office on the first floor, and the man was gauging at you with a grin you couldn't quite place. You shifted uncomfortably.
"So, let's put pen to paper!", he clapped his hands as he gently motioned to the seat next to him after having shaken your sweaty hand.
"Yes", you croaked as you sat down, taking the pen with the Arsenal logo into your shaky grip. The smile on your lips was fake as ever as you scribbled your name onto the dotted line. You fooled them again when holding up your shirt for the cameras. And again as you sat in front of the social media's team, answering all of their questions.
Your move surprised everyone in the Women's Football Community, can you tell us what exactly made you choose Arsenal?
Of course. I think Arsenal are very good with the fans, and they play really good football. I'm really excited to maybe play at the Emirates, and yeah I think anyone can see they are a real family so that's why I'm happy to be a part of it.
They payed the most. That was the answer you would've given, had anyone actually wanted to hear the truth from you. But people didn't want the truth. People wanted you to love Arsenal. And although it pained you, you had to admit that so far, it wasn't that bad.
Leah gave you a tour of her home that was now yours too, and the training grounds were nice. The gym was nice. The changing room was nice. The cafeteria was nice. You couldn't hate the club as much as you had when you hadn't seen it yet - hadn't been a part of it.
"So, do you like it here?"
You thought for a second that you would choke on your food when Wally asked you this, completely blindsiding you as you sat with her, Leah, Laia and Teyah in the dining hall, letting most of their conversation slip past you. Their English was difficult for you, not because you hadn't learned (or, attempted to learn) them language, but because you'd never heard it as much as you did here. The words were starting to become a constant, distant noise somewhere in the back of your mind, but as Wally looked at you expectantly and the others turned towards you, you knew that this wasn't something you could escape.
"Yeah, sure", you smiled. "It's nice here."
"Your contract is two years, right?"
You nodded. "Sí."
Two years. Two long years of being away from Alexia, except for Spanish camps. Two long years of being away from your parents, your actual teammates, your actual home. The thought didn't scare you as much as it used to.
"So, two years and then you'll go back?", Leah nudged you playfully, sipping her water as she smirked.
You shrugged. "We should see."
Over the next few days, you got to know the team, and London, even better. Leah spent every minute she could with you, always partnering with you during training and offering to show you her favorite cafés and places in the city when you weren't kicking balls around, inviting you over to her flat for a movie night or taking you to the little Spanish market she'd found halfway across the city. You appreciated her company, knowing that she was trying to make this transition as comfortable for you as possible. She didn't succeed completely, as you still felt homesick whenever she spared you a minute to call Alexia, or when you checked Barça's social media to see all of your teammates together, seemingly not even missing you.
Logically, you knew that they did. Barça was a family, and Alexia told you everyday that the girls were asking about you. Many of them texted you as well, informing you that they would try and find a livestream of your cup game against Reading, in which you would likely make your debut for your new club. Still, seeing them without you felt like someone was shooting daggers through your chest, piercing the skin and leaving you to bleed. You wanted to be there. You should be there. They had taken that opportunity away from you, ripping it out of your hands and tearing it apart like a piece of paper.
Anger and longing rose within you interchangeably, and if you didn't know any better, you would've believed you were simply going through a breakup like any other. But you forced yourself to push through the first week as hard as you could, keeping conversations with Alexia short in order to not be pulled back into memories and instead attempt to enjoy the present.
You were glad when Laia told you about her birthday party just a few days before your first match. The team had planned to go to Laia's favorite Spanish restaurant, and as you were a part of the team now as well, Kim had extended the reservation for another person. That was how you had found yourself, dressed in a tight black dress with a pullover on top, in Leah's car, allowing yourself to accept her offer to share a ride, trying to ignore the ringing phone in your hands.
Your ringtone cut off the soft country music playing in the background, which you had told Leah many times you would not enjoy. When the ringing finally stopped, you breathed a sigh of relief. Just for it to start again mere seconds later.
"Maybe you should answer that", Leah huffed, her eyes focused on the road but a soft smile on her lips. You shrugged.
"It's Alexia."
"You're ignoring the Alexia Putellas?" Leah's expression turned into a shocked one at once, but you could only chuckle.
"You're feeding her ego. She's just- my best friend, you know?", you attempted to explain how Ale's success had never driven a wedge between the two of you, not only because many believed you were equally good at football, but because Alexia was likely the most down-to-earth person you knew. Of course, the woman knew how good she was. Everyone did. But she'd never let it change her.
"Isn't that just more of a reason to not ignore her?"
You shrugged again.
"I dunno. Don't want to talk to her."
Leah's eyebrows furrowed as you finally reached your destination and she put the car into park. Your phone began ringing again. This time, you declined her call, texting her quickly that you couldn't talk right now.
"Why?"
You shrugged again. It seemed like all you knew to do, but as you looked at the way Leah's expression didn't relent in the slightest, you knew that it wouldn't work anymore. Maybe it was good to talk to Leah. Maybe she would understand.
"It just reminds me of home, you know. I miss it", you croaked, suddenly overwhelmed with longing once more. You wanted nothing more than to be in your apartment again, to drive to the Barcelona training grounds in your blue and red shirt, to join Mapi's banter, you even missed being yelled at by Irene and Marta.
"Are we really that bad?", Leah attempted to joke, a hand of hers flying out to gently land on your knee. Your breath hitched at the sudden contact, your eyes leaving hers to stare at her fingers on your skin.
“No”, you huffed. “Not at all, that’s the problem.”
Sitting in the car with Leah, nothing but the annoying country music in the background, for a second felt like a breath of fresh air. For just a second, you could focus on the warmth of her skin, on the air refresher dangling from her rearview mirror, on the eyes that she lay on you gently, on the softness of it all.
“Should we go?”, you broke the silence, knowing that Laia would not be happy if you were late. It was past ten already, and you softly smiled at the knowledge that some Spanish habits never truly left. It felt comforting to eat this late, as stupid as it sounded. It reminded you of the countless team dinners you’d had with Barça. You didn’t allow yourself, once again, to dwell on the fond memories as you pushed your door open without awaiting Leah’s answer, her hand retrieving from its position as she followed you into the restaurant, a bottle of Spanish wine in your hands. You had brought as much as you had been allowed to bring, and you figured passing Laia one singular bottle couldn’t hurt too much.
The restaurant held a nice atmosphere, one that immediately pulled you in as the bell jingled above your head. Most of the girls were already sitting at the table reserved for you, who all turned as they waved at you happily, grins plastered on their faces. Laia caught your eye first - she was wearing a little plastic crown, grinning like a kid on Christmas as she rose from her seat, hurrying to welcome you and Leah, who seemed to be the last ones to have arrived.
"¡Feliç aniversari!", you hugged Laia shortly, rubbing your hand across her back before pushing the bottle into her hands.
"Merci", she smiled as she accepted it, taking Leah into a short hug as well before you made your way towards the only seats available. The warmth of Leah's body next to yours, the familiar food and music playing softly in the background almost made you forget about the guilt in your stomach. You weren't supposed to enjoy all of this half as much as you did.
Seemingly as a distraction, though you figured you subconsciously wanted to remind yourself of what was your actual home, you opened Instagram. A video of Aitana singing the Barça chant, laughing into the camera with golden confetti around her shoulders, made you halt. You scrolled. You saw the trophy.
Shit - that was what Alexia had been calling you about. Of course. It came back to you flying - the supercopa final was today. How could you have forgotten? It was all you had been looking forward to ever since the winter break had ended. Yet you were so far away from it all, the match had slipped between your fingers, and you were left with nothing but the reminder that Barcelona functioned just as well without you, that they had simply moved on, while you were stuck here - in a Spanish restaurant, with your "friends", trying to remind yourself that if you tried hard enough, this could feel like home.
With a screech, you pushed your chair back and wobbled out of your seat uncomfortably.
"Just need the bathroom", you excused yourself in response to Leah's surprised expression, before marching through the restaurant and leaving all of the girls behind.
The bathroom was empty, luckily, and you let the tears flow at once. How had you been so stupid? How had you thought that, even for a minute, you would be okay so far away from your home, watching your teammates do all the things you wanted to do with them, while seemingly not missing you at all?
It didn't make any sense to you- Barcelona could win every trophy they wanted, while you were stuck in London, not even sure whether they would want you back after your contract was over. Were you delusional? Were you ever going to return to Barcelona?
Just as your brain started spinning further, and you had to steady yourself on the sink, knuckles turning white from how hard you wanted to keep yourself grounded, the door to the bathroom swung open. You didn't need to look up to know who it was - her body was right behind you, and she smelled of vanilla, just like her car did.
Leah. It was Leah who had entered the bathroom. Leah who was frantically trying to get you to talk to her, all the while you were choking on your sobs. Leah, who had tried her best to make you somewhat comfortable in the club she loved so much. How were you supposed to look her in the eye?
#woso community#woso imagine#woso#woso one shot#woso fanfics#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#awfc#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson#leah williamson oneshot
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bad day
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).
warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#
a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)
last part | next part
*
year two.
satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long.
it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly).
but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze.
and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell.
but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong.
“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable.
his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences.
but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward.
“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked.
“what happened?”
if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks.
you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else.
anything you might usually do.
but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?”
“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you.
“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.”
“the kids say something?”
“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“
“what about you?”
“what about me?”
“you’re frowning.”
you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.”
but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong.
satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar.
“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.”
“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.”
“you didn’t sleep?”
“i did…”
“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie.
it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about.
it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core.
not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business.
and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.
“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you.
“why?”
you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out.
“what?”
“a little space. i just…”
“what?” his brows are furrowed.
“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”
the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.”
“i don’t want to talk.”
“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone.
“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“
“just tell me what happened.”
“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.”
“clearly, it’s not nothing.”
“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly.
“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“
“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?”
satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips.
and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing.
so he does.
you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that.
he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything.
and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh.
*
dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said.
you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her.
satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals.
and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear.
he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows.
his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong.
he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets.
satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink.
but he shuts the door behind him, waiting.
“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.”
satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.”
you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.
his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?”
“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.
satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.”
“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”
“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.”
you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?”
he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.”
you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin.
he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.”
“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.”
“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.”
“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft.
and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits.
it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist.
“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.”
“wow. way to narrow it down.”
you pinch his leg.
he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy.
“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.”
satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline.
“he did?” he whispers, eventually.
“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”
“that’s… nice.”
you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”
satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.”
“you would only care about that.”
“hey, a free meal is no joke.”
“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”
“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.”
you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own.
“so, did he say why? something happen?”
“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.”
satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.”
you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?”
satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.”
“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.
“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it.
your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up.
but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…”
there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough.
but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.”
his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes.
satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know.
but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again.
you wipe the tear away as it comes.
he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.
but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.
satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say.
so angry that he's never been enough for this.
“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.”
“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.”
you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed.
“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes.
you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.”
“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.”
you shake your head. “you never do.”
satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers.
you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.”
he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead.
“i know.”
you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go.
he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know.
what would you do if the situations were reversed?
“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.”
“satoru…”
“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means.
“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.”
“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying.
you laugh.
satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.”
you push him away.
and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in.
“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains.
megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?”
satoru grins.
you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention.
just staring at you. for a different reason this time.
*
next part | series masterlist.
#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#satorugojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojō x reader#a typical family
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haunted | daniel ricciardo
pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 2 to fragile line)
Can't breathe whenever you're gone
Can't turn back now, I'm haunted
you're racing. daniel isn't, but he's not gone either, is he?
word count: 7.6k (im so sorry)
warnings/tags: angst really, more incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps again, platonic love all around, not as big of a rollercoaster as part 1 but just wait till part 3 lol
“Do you know?”
“Do I know what?” You asked, wondering why that was the first thing your teammate said when you opened the door to your flat.
Lando didn’t even bother with a ‘hey, how was your day, what’s up’, he was just straight to the point, only you had no idea what the point was.
He was still on a high after coming in second place the other day, so you let the impoliteness slide. Usually Lando didn’t look like a mix between a sweaty mess and a confused child, but you assumed he was like this because whatever was on his mind was important.
“You haven’t- did you-” Lando stammered over his words. “When’s the last time you checked your phone?”
You felt around in your pockets and glanced over your shoulder with a bit of a shrug. If you were being honest, you hadn’t looked at your phone in a few hours. Your morning was spent training and running errands now that you had some time and were home for a little while before the next race. You were still carrying a lot of energy after your successful finish in Silverstone that sitting still and scrolling through your phone was the last thing you wanted to be doing right now.
“Can you just find your phone, please?” Lando asked, because he didn’t want to be the person to break the news. He came over to talk to you, to walk you through it, to be someone to vent to if you needed it, but the last thing he wanted was to be the one to say it.
It took a minute, but you found it in your bedroom, the screen lighting up and vibrating with each notification. As you walked back towards Lando, you scrolled through them all, trying to see which was the most important.
Eventually, you landed on one from the official F1 app.
Daniel Ricciardo Replaces Nyck de Vries
Daniel Ricciardo was returning to the grid.
Daniel was coming back.
But did he ever really leave in the first place?
You hadn’t spoken to him since that day in Monaco, almost a year ago now. The day your relationship fell apart, crumbling to pieces around you.
You thought maybe, maybe, he’d call you before the next race or at least try to find you somewhere in the paddock to have a civil conversation but that didn’t happen.
Of course, neither of you had time for a conversation anyway.
Daniel released his video 24 hours before media day in Belgium, announcing he would be leaving the team. It broke your heart watching it in your hotel room, knowing he was only a few floors up and probably struggled to record it. You could picture him retaking it a few times, just to get the words right, his tone right. He didn’t want to paint McLaren as being at fault for this decision, even if that was the case.
If you weren’t the driver who was set to replace him, you would have been there in that room giving him encouraging nods and telling him to just speak to the fans. You would have been there when his head fell back against the wall in defeat, eyes closed as the weight of his unknown future crashed down on him. You would have crawled onto his lap and held him, telling him that another team was going to be desperate for him.
Instead you were in your own room, watching the video like the millions of other followers he had. The only difference was, none of those followers asked themselves if they were to blame.
It was just you, wiping the corner of your eyes and asking yourself if this was your fault.
Surely when your news dropped, people would start pointing fingers, people would talk.
Daniel Ricciardo trained her, they would say. He helped her get to this point and now she’s taking his seat.
They’d throw assumptions into the wind about how this was probably your plan all along.
It wasn’t, of course. Your plan was to get a seat in Formula 1 and see Daniel as friendly competition when you stepped onto the grid. You wanted to keep the support system alive when you moved up, knowing you had someone watching your back when you climbed out of the car. You wanted to be able to go home with him at the end of the night on Sunday and watch the race back with him, playfully critiquing each other's moves and ideally celebrating your victories, together.
You never wanted to leave him without a seat.
But part of you must have known he wasn’t driving next year, right? You never brought up the contract, he never talked about leaving, nor did he talk about potentially moving to another team, which seemed like something you’d talk to your partner about.
Daniel said nothing. You said nothing. And in the back of your head you knew he wasn’t signed to another team, you just didn’t want to accept it.
You didn’t want to admit that part of that was your fault.
Zak Brown put you in the worst position possible. He was giving you the chance to make your dream a reality, but in doing so, you were losing the one person who shared that dream with you.
It shouldn’t have been hard to put on a smile during that post-race interview in Spa. You finished second, your hot streak had continued despite the turmoil your heart was going through. So not only was the adrenaline pumping through your veins from the podium, but McLaren had decided that morning was the perfect time to announce you were replacing Daniel.
They didn’t word it like that, though. They just stated that you were to race for McLaren for 2023. No mention of Daniel, even if that was all anyone had questions about.
“Second place in Spa, how are you feeling?” The reporter asked as you struggled to get comfortable in the white leather chair, your trophy at your feet.
You weren’t surprised he, Richard from the official FIA reporting team, jumped directly to you, bypassing any questions for Liam Lawson who finished third. No one had yet to get a comment on your official move to F1, not having any time this morning since the news was announced.
“It's exciting, it’s good to be back as well,” you nodded, turning to Felipe on your right who nodded as well. “A break is always needed, but there’s really no better feeling than getting back behind the wheel.”
“You’ve never podiumed here before,” Richard pointed out, “There’s quite a difference in performance from last year to this year, we’ve all noticed.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere?” You laughed, not caring at all if it sounded forced, and you knew it did because Liam raised his hand to mouth to hide his chuckle and tried to play it off like he was just scratching his jaw.
“Well it’s just no wonder that McLaren has snatched you up for the 2023 season, with how much you’ve shown this year what you’re capable of. Care to comment on that?”
There it was. The first official request to talk about McLaren.
“I mean, we’ve all seen the news at this point,” another laugh but this time it was more out of discomfort.
You looked at Felipe, he nodded again but it was short and encouraging, silently telling you it was okay to take the spotlight even though it was him who had won this race.
You cleared your throat, thinking about what the PR team from McLaren told you. You’re focused on Prema. McLaren knows this. McLaren is supporting you while you finish your F2 season and by all means, shut down any topic regarding Daniel Ricciardo.
“Really, I’m just focused on finishing the season off strong with Prema,” you told Richard, feeling your smile start to slip because how could you be excited over that or a trophy when you knew what he was thinking and what the whole world was thinking.
You prayed he wouldn’t bring it up, but the media world was hell.
“And Daniel’s departure-
Liam promptly lifted the mic to lips, cutting off Richard before he could finish that thought. “We’ll all miss her, I think that’s safe to say. But maybe it’ll be a bit easier for the rest of us to podium when she’s gone.”
Quiet laughter spread through the audience and you just turned to Liam and mouthed a quick ‘thank you’. He didn’t say anything back, just dropped his head to your shoulder for a second and smiled, playing up the whole we’ll miss her statement. It wasn’t an act, though. Most of the guys you raced with had stopped you at some point this morning sharing their congrats and giving you a hug, telling you that you deserved that spot in F1.
Even Felipe said it and meant it, and he was on the fast track to win this year, also eyeing a spot in F1. You had a good support system in this series.
He dropped his head to your other shoulder and your lips fell into a playful pout, raising your hands to the sides of both driver’s faces. It made a cute photo. The F1 social media team really played into the love you had from your competitors.
You had a lot of support in the paddock, surprisingly, from other drivers.
Mick found you before his own race started. He was your first teammate during your rookie season in F2, it only made sense he was the first current driver to congratulate you.
“You deserve it,” Mick told you, arms tightly wrapped around your body as he gave you a comforting embrace that almost compared to the one you were craving from Daniel, but still something was missing.
Mick’s contract was up at the end of 2022, and no one knew where he was going but he assured you that no matter what, he’d be on your side.
You sort of interacted with Lando on Sunday after your feature race. When you passed him in the paddock, he held his hand out for a fist bump and gave you a wide smile. The cameras caught it, they caught everything apparently, and it was the first photo you saw on social media when you got to the airport late Sunday evening.
First of many celebratory fist bumps, McLaren’s caption said. It was a nice photo, truly.
Too bad the comments were anything but.
Not McLaren hyping up the fact that Danny’s girlfriend is replacing himIsn’t she only fourth in the driver standings in F2 lol We don’t want her we want the honey badgerEven worse when you think about the fact that they are literally in a relationship and she’s taking his seatNo class from any of them
No one seemed to know that you and Daniel were done, but how would they know? Your relationship was private, your break up would be too.
Your break up.
And then it hit you. Right there in the airport. After the adrenaline of a podium had worn off. After the excitement of signing with a new team had passed. After you were finally left alone after being surrounded by your team and drivers and press all day, you broke down.
It was embarrassing. The only saving grace was the fact that you were sat in the corner of the premium lounge, facing the windows, so at least no one could see you cry. You weren’t quiet though, you knew your faint sobs could be heard from anyone within a 3 metre radius.
And you knew how immature this was, crying in an airport. But when you felt things you felt them with every fibre in your being. You were overjoyed beyond words, shaking when you got first podium in F2, and then feeling that multiplied by fifty when you won in Monaco.
You were madly in love with Daniel, despite only dating for a year. It wasn’t young love, puppy love, a whirlwind romance, or any of those sappy headlines. You were head over heels, ready to spend your life with the man who lifted you up above the rest of the world. Who not only put you on a pedestal, but made sure other people did too. He was always in your corner, even before you started dating. He loved you long before you even realised you could also love him.
As an athlete, as a future world championship contender, as a friend, Daniel loved you.
The day you knew you loved him, you knew you were screwed, you both talked about the risks.
Fragile line, you called it, walking a tightrope, he joked. There was such a huge margin of error, so many things that could go wrong by falling in love with, not only a driver but the driver who mentored you.
The media would turn against you. Sponsors would shake their heads. Your future could have been jeopardised. You’d be labelled as a poor role model for girls in motorsport.
You walked a dangerous and delicate line with Daniel, but you didn’t think it would snap beneath your feet. You never thought you’d be the one to break it.
So yes, you were full on sobbing in the airport as you waited to board your flight to Amsterdam.
“Pretty sure podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.”
You heard the British accent and immediately sat up, wiping your eyes and sniffling to at least try and make it seem like you weren’t crying. You turned your head and watched as Lando sat down next to you on the dark blue chair, resting a leg over his knee.
You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him, worrying that if you did try to talk, all that would come out would be more cries.
Lando reached into the front pocket of his backpack and pulled out a travel size pack of tissues, tossing them to you without so much as a word. He waited a few minutes as you composed yourself, using some of the tissues and pocketing the rest for later.
“You okay?” Lando asked, sounding concerned for your well being because he had a point, podium winners aren’t usually this distraught.
“Am I okay?” You repeated back followed with a playful scoff. “Do I look okay?”
“You look awful.”
“I feel awful.”
Lando nodded, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. His current teammate, his friend, was leaving at the end of this year and his new teammate, a girl he had barely had 5 conversations with, was having a breakdown in the airport.
Lando, whether he liked it or not, knew he would be caught in the middle of whatever this mess was for the next few months or so.
He knew you and Daniel were an item. Daniel told himself shortly after Silverstone, and only because Lando had asked, simply curious.
“You and Y/N,” he started off, hesitantly, seeing the two of you interact much more flirtatiously then you had before. “You two are..” he didn’t know how to word it.
Daniel just winked, “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
That pretty much confirmed it. And then when you started showing up in the back of the McLaren garage during race weekends, Lando sort of accepted it, quickly getting used to seeing you around.
You were always friendly with each other, but your attention was always on Daniel, too. Lando saw the way you were quick to rush to his side after a difficult race. How you were the first one Daniel looked for when he stepped out of the car, eyes searching the sea of orange for you. Lando heard the way Daniel talked about you, the way he praised you, telling everyone who would listen that you deserved a spot in Formula 1. That man had a note saved on his phone of your stats, race wins, qualifying times, records broken, all of it.
Daniel loved you. Everyone who knew him saw it, and Lando was no exception.
So one could imagine the uncertainty he felt as he approached you in the airport. Surely you and Daniel weren’t together anymore, right? Or were you somehow going to work through this? Could you work through it? Taking his seat?
Lando, like everyone else, was dying to know.
“Has he said anything?” You asked him before Lando had a chance to get a word out. That question alone confirmed that you and Daniel weren’t on speaking terms at least.
“About you?” Lando asked and when you nodded, he saw the devastation hit your eyes as he shook his head. “Honestly he wasn’t very talkative today, left right after the post race stuff.”
“How is he?” You then asked. “Has he- is there any word on him finding a seat next year?” You pulled your knees up to your chest, staring hopefully at the British driver.
It pained Lando to shake his head again, “Not yet, but it’s still pretty early. I’m sure he’ll find a seat.”
You nodded, praying that Lando was right. When you dropped your chin to your knees, averting your eyes when you felt the tears well up again, Lando’s chest grew tight. He felt bad for you. This was a hard position for you to be in.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lando assured you. “Danny’s one of the best there is, but the results just aren’t there. Zak didn’t see any point in continuing if it’ll just end up being more of the same.”
Lando tried to be encouraging, really, and you were thankful for that, but he got the hint after a while that you just didn’t want to talk about it. Before leaving you alone, he gave you his number and told you that if you needed anything, to just reach out.
You were always friendly with Lando, but that was the start to your friendship.
It was Lando who shared your picture when you claimed first place in Zandvoort, celebrating your success with a cheeky caption stating how he better see you bring the hot streak to McLaren next year. He was the one who interrupted your post-race interview in Monza, spotting you in the paddock being interviewed by Will Buxton. Lando, despite needing to follow his own pre-race schedule, came and draped an arm over your shoulder and playfully interrupted whatever Will was trying to say.
“Look at that,” Will laughed when you struggled to shake Lando’s arm off of you, “Future teammates. Lando, how excited are you to be working with this incredible talent next year?”
“Oh extremely excited,” Lando answered, leaning into the mic gripped between your fingers. “She won’t be able to keep up with me though.”
And that it was it. He ruffled his hand through your hair and took off again.
He checked in on you between races, whenever a new headline was trending, whenever someone from social media had the audacity to compare yours and Daniels stats and pin you against each other as if there wasn’t already enough you were struggling with.
Lando didn’t want you to come into the new season already feeling defeated. He was still friends with Daniel, he always would be, but he had a kind heart. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t on anyones ‘side’, but more importantly, he saw you as a driver, as his next teammate. He didn’t see you as Daniel’s ex who was now stealing his seat like half of the world did.
It was also his car that you drove during the practice sessions in Austin and Abu Dhabi. Lando happily stepped aside for you, giving you a supportive pat on the back and strategically blocking your line of sight towards Daniel as he got ready for his sessions as well.
You still hadn’t spoken. You hadn’t even looked at each other. You tried, honestly, to catch his eye but he refused to even glance your way. He was in and out of that car so quick, finding any excuse to leave the garage while you were there.
It hurt. You knew his mind was made up. He was upset, he was hurt, he wanted nothing to do with you and seeing you in his garage sent him spiralling.
All you saw was Daniel turning his back on you, but what you didn’t know was this situation was giving Daniel constant headaches. He couldn’t look at you, the girl he loved, and watch you climb into the McLaren knowing that you’d be doing that throughout the entire next season and he wouldn’t.
All he ever wanted was to see you in a Formula 1 car, but not like this.
You stood in Lando’s side of the garage during the last race. You wore your McLaren jacket, you had the orange headphones on as stared up at the screen. Your back was towards Daniel’s car, so you missed the way he did actually look at you. It pained him to see how well you blended in with the team, his team. He almost told himself it looked like you belonged there, but he quickly put his helmet on and climbed into his car, gearing up for the race.
He finished 9th. Lando finished 6th. And with that, the season ended.
Daniel was done.
You watched him celebrate with those closest to him. You stood off to the side and thought about how if things were different, you’d be clinging to him, sweaty race suit and all, waiting to congratulate him in your own way back at the hotel. You would tell him you loved him, that he didn’t need McLaren. You’d joke and say that you two could form your own team, because that’s what you should have been till the end, a team.
But that wasn’t the case anymore. McLaren was your team now.
It was only a matter of days until Daniel spoke to the media about his departure.
“I can’t speak ill of her,” Daniel said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. He knew that coming on this podcast that he’d be asked about you and your contract. He was advised against it but the second his working relationship ended with McLaren, he agreed to talk, to share his side.
“But she’s the one who took your seat,” Jaycee so politely pointed out. “As happy as I am to see a female in Formula 1, it’s bittersweet knowing a driver such as yourself is left without a spot.”
Daniel sighed into the mic in front of him, “McLaren handed her her dream on a papaya platter and she grabbed it. I think a lot of drivers would do the same in that scenario.”
“But it stings a little more, doesn’t it?” Greyson, her co-host asked. “Because you two were-
“Friends, yeah,” Daniel interrupted. “Yeah we were close.”
“You mentored her,” Greyson pushed for more of an admittance as to what their relationship was. “You were seen with her and the Prema team during a handful of weekends. She even said you were her mentor.”
Daniel naturally hesitated, “I saw her potential early on and I wanted to help her grow. I really did want to see her in Formula 1, despite what anyone says about the situation she’s an incredible driver.”
“Everyone who follows Formula 1 knows you have a strong connection,” Jaycee said, subtly trying to pry for more as well. “After her Silverstone crash in 2021 you were in her garage. And then you were seen in Monaco together a few weeks later. You two weren’t just friends in the paddock, you worked closely together outside of race weekends too-
“Did your girlfriend take your seat or not?” Greyson blurted out, earning a glare from Jaycee on his left, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He wanted to know, the whole world wanted to know what was going on between you and Daniel now that you were signed for McLaren.
And you had to give props to Daniel, he played it off about as smoothly as he could.
“McLaren sees more potential in her than me,” he said, still smiling because that’s who he was. A people pleaser, always grinning, always a breath of fresh air. “If they can give her what they promised me, then that’s good for all of them. Do I like how the situation went down? No, but that’s the reality of Formula 1. You’re not safe unless you’re winning and I wasn’t winning.”
“And your relationship-
“She doesn’t need a mentor anymore, does she?” Daniel asked, disregarding any ideas of the two of you dating. “She made it to Formula 1. That was what she wanted. I wish her well.”
That was the closest thing to confirmation of your break up that anyone would get.
And the interview ended shortly after that, doing wonders on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. You listened to it also, just waiting for Daniel to say something horrible but of course he didn’t. That wasn’t him. He was the good guy. He was the hero. He got you to Formula 1 and was holding his head up high, wishing you well and thanking McLaren for the last 2 years.
You wished it ended there, the conversations surrounding you. It should have ended there.
But fast forward to the awards dinner at the end of the year, just shortly after the last race of the season.
You sat with your mum at a round table with Felipe and his partner and few other people involved in Formula 2.
You had finished second in the standings, not first like you had dreamt of, but Felipe told you that first place in the championship would come in F1, don’t worry.
And you weren’t sure who had made the seating chart, but from where you sat, you could easily see Daniel at his table, only a few metres away from your own. He sat with some of his friends and some people from his personal team. He was also purposely avoiding looking in your direction, knowing that if he did, he’d be making eye contact for the first time in months.
He’d see your stunning features and bright eyes standing out among the rest. He’d see the low cut, thinly strapped black dress, showing off the collarbones he used to mark with his lips, the trail between your breast and down to your navel that he used to make with his tongue. If he looked at you, he’d think of all the ways the night would have ended if things were different.
If he looked at you, he’d be reminded that the girl he loved was the one who broke him. He’d be reminded that as hurt as he was by your actions, by taking his seat, he couldn’t forget the memories you made, the moments he shared, the way he used to admire you.
He didn’t love you anymore, though. He couldn’t. He forced those feelings out, replacing them with regret for ever deciding to help you because if he hadn't helped you, it wouldn’t have been you that took his seat.
So Daniel looked at the stage, his friends, his food. He didn’t look at you.
He didn’t even look at you when you walked up to collect your trophy, choosing that moment to be the perfect time to walk up to the open bar. He ordered a few more drinks and a shot on a whim, downing it back before walking to the table, 2 freshly poured glasses of rum and cokes in hand.
Daniel got drunk that night. He didn’t mean to, but it helped him deal with all he had going on. It was a good way to end the 2022 season, to put it behind him. You, McLaren, all of it.
Someone should have stopped him when he noticed you about to leave at the end of the night, a white coat draped over your shoulders. That should be my blazer, Daniel thought, thinking of the countless nights he had given you his jacket for warmth.
You were in the middle of a conversation with someone from Prema when you felt a tug in your arm. When you looked up and saw it was Daniel who was pulling you off to the side, your heart sank. There were no butterflies anymore, just a lot of anxiety and guilt eating you from the inside.
You could tell he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say. For a split second, his gaze was soft, almost like he thought about congratulating you for a successful season. For a moment, proud Daniel was back and for a moment, you got your hopes up. Maybe this line you broke could be fixed.
It was a bad sign when his eyes grew cold, features hardening along with them. This man, who was all you wanted, stared at you like you were a stranger, and maybe you were now.
He opened his mouth and the room around you fell dark and quiet. It was your mind playing horrible tricks on you, putting a spotlight in this moment in time so it would haunt your memories after tonight. You knew the earth was still spinning, that people around you were still moving, but you couldn’t trust anything, frozen in this space with Daniel.
“I hope you’re happy,” Daniel spoke softly, but his words cut through you like a knife. If someone told you that your heart was bleeding, you’d believe it. That’s certainly what it felt like.
He didn’t want you to be happy. He didn’t want you taking his seat. He didn’t want to see you live out his dream. He put on a beautiful charade for the press, but deep down you knew, he saw you as nothing more but a mistake. He no longer wanted you to succeed, despite telling the world he wished you would.
"Daniel-"
You automatically reached for him and he flinched backwards. It hurt, seeing him react how he was. He didn’t want you touching him, he just wanted to get one more word in, wanted you to know that he was still bitter and would be for a while.
You stood there and watched him walk away, haunted by the pain and broken trust in his eyes, a look that would become burned into your mind during your restless sleeps.
And then there was the week where you just didn’t sleep. The week after Daniel’s contract with Red Bull was announced.
He wasn’t driving with them, but he wasn’t leaving Formula 1 either.
He’d still be around the paddock during selective race weekends. He’d be there, putting on a show for the fans because everyone loved him. Everyone wanted him on the grid, and if he couldn’t race, at least he was still there in the garage as a reserve driver.
The same excitement couldn’t be said for you.
Despite forming a close bond with Lando really early into the pre-season, it helped that he was only two years younger than you, you were not met with open arms and loud cheers.
You had some supporters, a lot actually, but nothing compared to Daniel’s fans. You were pulled alert and critiqued for every move you made. You could understand the questions that circulated when you didn’t even finish the first race in Bahrain, retiring early because of an engine problem. Did Zak really make the right move by replacing Daniel with you? What could you bring to the team if this was how you started the season?
But it was the talk about what you did off the track that really got to you. You didn’t care if people weren’t a fan of your driving, you knew F1 fans had their favourites and you knew you weren’t everyone’s.
However social media had a way of spinning everything. You lost count of the ridiculous rumours. Apparently, you were now replacing Daniel with Lando because that playful interview you did talking about red flags in relationships really gave away the fact you were sleeping together.
Oh you were also sleeping with Mick Schumacher, because you had a thing for reserve drivers, it seemed. And the way he found you after your second race without points again in Saudi Arabia made it so obvious that you were with him.
And you couldn’t forget about how big of a bitch you were, choosing to not acknowledge Daniel in Australia when you walked past him in the paddock. It was his home race, he was the reason you were even racing, and you couldn’t even stop and give him a smile?
These rumours were truly getting annoying.
Of course, you couldn’t come out and tell people that Lando was seeing someone because it was so new and private and not your story to tell. No one cared that Mick was your teammate at Prema in 2020 and you guys had always been friends. No one would believe you if you said that you didn’t even see Daniel in the paddock, being too engrossed in your conversation to notice that the Australian was walking past.
You grew to hate seeing him during race weekends.
It was a constant reminder of what could have been.
What if you had waited a year and signed with McLaren then? Would Daniel still hold this hatred towards you if his contract played out like it was supposed to?
What if you signed with a different team like Williams instead, and someone else replaced Daniel? If Oscar Piastri had taken his spot, would Daniel be this resentful still to see you driving? Or would he happily walk by your side in the paddock, him in Red Bull polo, you in your Williams racing suit? Would he have accompanied you during the race weekends when he didn’t have Red Bull duties?
Was there ever a scenario where he stood in your garage and watched you race? Cheering you on, despite what place you finished? Despite where he was in his own career?
Or was that just a far fetched dream?
Because let’s face it, if Daniel was still racing this year, it would be hard to support you and focus on his own season. How could he be happy if he DNF’d and you finished in the points? How could you be happy if the media would say that you were only using Daniel to get ahead?
If you had signed for Williams and Daniel was still replaced, it would be difficult for him to watch you race, to watch you do what he loved. How could he be in your corner when he no longer had a corner of his own to stand in?
Maybe you were doomed from the start. Fragile line, you said. How true that was. It was always going to snap.
You heard through the grapevine that Daniel had said you taking his seat before his contract was even up was the worst thing you could have possibly done.
Was that in regards to McLaren? To your relationship? From a sportsmanship standpoint? You had no idea. You just knew Daniel wasn’t impressed that you were racing and he wasn’t.
You hated seeing him during the few races he attended. You were petrified to run into him in the paddock, in the pit lane, in the hotel for christ sakes, you didn’t want to see him. At one point, you were desperate for even just a smidge of attention from him and now you felt sick whenever you heard he would be in attendance.
You went five races in a row without scoring any points. You could practically hear Daniel’s smug expression when you crossed the finish line each time. He was probably eating this up, knowing you were the one struggling now.
The only difference was, you didn’t have him to turn to after a shitty run in the McLaren.
Lando tried to be helpful, but he was struggling too. People called the car a tractor and honestly, so did you and Lando in private. You had a group chat with your personal trainers and the four of you called yourselves the farmers. The jokes made and lighthearted conversations shared were the only silver linings during this depressing start of a season.
Monaco was better, sort of.
You finished 10th, so at least that was a point under your belt.
But Daniel was everywhere.
He loved Monaco, he lived in Monaco, of course it was no surprise he was there that weekend.
You found yourself jogging past his flat the Thursday before the race, and you didn’t do it on purpose but it was the same route you had taken all of those times you had spent days on end at Daniel’s. Sometime he joined you for those morning runs, sometime you’d return and he was making breakfast.
But you came to a stop on the opposite side of the street and stared up at it, recognising his balcony instantly. You saw the plant in the corner that you had given him a few months into your relationship and despite him claiming he wasn’t a plant guy, he managed to keep it alive.
Your heart felt heavy. All you wanted was to knock on his door and be welcomed in with wide arms and that stupid smile of his. You wanted to not feel anxious when you saw him in the paddock. You wanted to not be holding your breath every time you got out of the racecar, wondering what Daniel thought of your run.
You were simultaneously on edge at all moments while also still dying to make him proud. You didn’t think that would ever go away.
Even during the weekends he wasn’t there, you were looking over your shoulder constantly. Even if you knew that he was on the other side of the world, he was still on your mind. He haunted your thoughts from the moment you walked into the garage to when you got out of the car at the end of the race weekend.
Lando called you out on it that Thursday in Silverstone.
“You’re in your head,” he told you, seeing how your main focus wasn’t racing, it was Daniel. You were unsure what he was referring to though and Lando just rolled his eyes, “Well actually, Daniel’s in your head. And he’s keeping you from being the driver I know you can be.”
That was all he said on the topic.
And he was right.
You were so worried about Daniel. About what he would think of your races. About trying to avoid him during the weekends he was there. About still trying to make him proud but not too proud where he resented you more for taking his seat. About the hundreds of scenarios that could have happened if you had made a different choice.
Because of all of these thoughts, that seat at McLaren was still very much Daniel’s. You allowed it to be.
You needed to stop telling yourself you took his seat because that’s what it would always be then, his seat. Lando stood up, patting your knee after dropping those few words and you decided right then and there that it was your seat.
You wouldn’t let Daniel haunt you anymore.
And qualifying was where this new mentality really showed.
You were buzzing with energy when your engineer told you that you had gotten P3 and were starting on the second row for tomorrows race. You climbed out of the car in parc ferme and ran directly to Lando. He hugged you, he was proud of you.
“That’s the driver we all know,” Lando said when he pulled his helmet off. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were wearing identical smiles of pure joy. “Where the hell has she been all this time?”
You didn’t even have an answer, too excited about what this meant for you, for the team. You post-quali interviews went by in a blur, your hands were shaking the entire time. You blacked out during it, still trying to process the fact that you had finished third in qualifying, but you did remember Lando reaching over at one point and dropping his hand to your knee. It was polite, it didn’t mean anything more than a playful stop shaking you’re making us all look bad, but god did the media run with it.
You didn’t let anything on social media get to you, telling yourself that you had to stay focused for the race. In fact you even gave your phone to your trainer, Oliver, asking him to take it for the night and to just wake you up in the morning.
And Oliver was a good trainer, he had also become a good friend since you joined McLaren so you trusted him with your phone.
Which meant he knew your password.
So when he saw your phone light up that night with a text from Daniel, Oliver panicked. He knew the right thing to do would be to just leave it alone, you’d see it in the morning. You’d see the message. The short but seemingly sweet;
P3, nice job
But a text like that would send you spiralling and you didn't need that before one of the most important races of the season for you, Oliver knew this. He knew you were supposed to be getting over Daniel, he knew how much the Australian just being in the paddock messed with your mind. He knew you had to focus on racing.
There was so much uncertainty with the text. Was this him extending an olive branch? Was he genuine, or was this supposed to be taken with a bit of salt? Oliver could read it both ways. Either Daniel was truly happy for you, or this could be dripping with sarcasm. P3, sure, but remember who’s seat you’re in.
Oliver decided to delete the text. There was no trace of it when he handed the phone back to you the next day.
Maybe that was for the best, no one knew.
All you knew was you were starting third today.
All Daniel knew was you had ignored him, and now you were walking right past him down the paddock, side by side with Lando as you talked about today’s race. Daniel turned his head and saw the two of you, drawing his own conclusions.
Whatever was going through his mind, one thing seemed certain. You didn’t need him anymore. You had the seat, the team, someone new supporting you, why would you still need Daniel?
You went about your day, the same pre-race rituals. Lando checked in more than normal, it was an exciting day for both of you, but he knew he was also a good distraction to keep your mind off of Daniel, he knew you would be struggling to keep from thinking about him.
“It’s you and me,” Lando told you right before the race. “It’s our day, yeah? We’ve got this.”
Lando was in your corner. You were in his.
Which meant you were there to celebrate after the race when he took home second place. You had claimed fourth, which was also something to be proud of, and you were, but you were also craving that podium. You could almost taste it, it was so close.
“Next time,” Lando assured you, having full confidence that you’d be holding the trophy at the following race. He handed you a bottle of champagne, telling you to drink up and enjoy and for once, you did.
You were happy. You finally felt like you could accomplish something amazing at McLaren, despite the horrible start. Lando had gotten a podium, yours was coming, you could feel it.
You didn’t think about Daniel at all that night. It was the first night in a long time where you didn’t see his face when you closed your eyes.
And you would have loved to keep celebrating after that night, to keep the high of Lando's podium and your 4th place finish last until the next race, but all good things must come to an end.
You stood in front of Lando now, unsure how to take the news about Daniels’ return. Were you allowed to be happy for him? Of course you wanted to see him in a seat, this was the ideal situation, both of you driving this season. What would this mean for the two of you moving forward?
But he had done the exact same thing you had done by replacing a driver before their contract was up.
Daniel made you feel awful about that decision and now here he was, making the exact same one. He was no better than you. He was no hero, he wasn’t the good guy. He was a driver, desperate for a seat, as were you. As was every single person wanting to race in this series.
You were on the same playing field now.
He was going to be at every single race for the rest of the season, as a competitor on the grid. Something you once dreamt of, both of you dreamt of, was finally coming true.
But that’s all he would be. A competitor. Another driver. Another car to overtake. You always thought that when this moment came, you’d still be a team when you left the track at the end of the day and that just wasn’t the reality you found yourself in.
“He’s back,” Lando said, hands shoved in his pockets trying to gauge your reaction.
Daniel was returning to Formula 1, but you knew he was never actually gone in the first place.
He was in your thoughts, your dreams, your memories, he was everywhere all of the time. Even when you crossed the finish line in Silverstone, there was still a part of you that was wondering if Daniel was watching. As much as you tried to avoid him, your eyes still scanned every single crowd for him.
And now you didn’t need to look anymore.
part 3 gone
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how to make cool blobby turing patterns in photoshop
i'll preface with i learned the basic loop from skimming a tutorial on youtube, but as someone who prefers written tutorials i'm sure many would appreciate one! also, the second part of this is some of the visual effects i figured out on my own using blending modes and stuff.
i'm using photoshop CS4 on a mac so some buttons and stuff might be in different places on windows and newer photoshop versions but all the actions are the same. my canvas is 1000x1000 pixels.
UPDATES (i'm hoping these'll show up whenever you open the readmore?)
it's possible to do something similar in krita using this plugin, made by the love @arcaedex
it's also possible to do this in photopea, a free browser alternative to photoshop! the results are pretty much identical.
FIRST off you wanna get or make a black and white image of some kind. it has to be one layer. can be noise, a photo, a bunch of lines, whatever. here's mine, just some quick airbrush lines:
now find the actions tab. idk what it looks like in newer versions of photoshop but you probably won't need to dig!
hit the little page thingy to make a new pattern. once you hit 'record', it'll record everything you do. the little square 'stop' icon will end it.
now you want to do a high pass filter. you can mess around with the radius to change the size of your squiggles, but the tutorial had it set to 6. experiment!
now add the 'threshold' adjustment layer. i use the adjustments tab but i think there's also a dropdown menu somewhere. keep it at the default, 128. merge it down. (control or command + E or you can right click it like some kind of weirdo)
and finally, the gaussian blur! the radius of this affects the shape and size of your squiggles as well. i like to keep it around 4.5 but you can mess around with that too.
after that, hit 'stop' on the action you're recording, and then repeat it a bunch of times using the 'play' button, until you have something you like, like this:
WOW!! that was fun!! and only a little tedious thanks to the power of macros. anyway, here's some fun layer blending stuff i like to do. it's with a different pattern cause i made this bit first.
anyway, using a black and white gradient (or a grey base that you do black and white airbrush on), make a layer with the vivid light. this will make the blobs look thicker or thinner.
then, for cool colors, do a gradient map adjustment layer over that:
and finally, my best friend, the overlay layer. just using a gradient here bc i'm lazy, but feel free to experiment with brushes, colors, and blending modes!
NOW GO. MAKE COOL SHIT WITH THE POWER OF MATH. AND SEND IT TO ME
also these are not hard and fast rules PLEASE mess around with them to see what kind of weird shit you can make. here's a gif. as you can see i added some random airblush blobs in the middle of it, for fun.
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