#but hurting others is wrong so alas

[chumbyy]

LITTLE BABY MADE 4 FUN :3

[seventh-district]

wow!!! nothing better than watching your AO3 subscribers stat go down every time you post a new chapter of your current fic!!!

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)

a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡

Part 2

~~

You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 

Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 

You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 

You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 

“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 

“And what’s that?” 

You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 

The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 

“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 

“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 

“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 

Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 

Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 

“Maybe we would.” 

Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 

“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 

“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 

“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 

Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 

The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 

They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 

And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 

He had to be in love with her. 

You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 

“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 

“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 

“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 

You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 

“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 

“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 

He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 

He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 

You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 

You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 

Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 

Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 

It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 

“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 

“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 

“Liar.” 

Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 

You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”

“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  

You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 

“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 

“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 

“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 

“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 

~~

The following days were… strange to say the least. 

Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.

And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 

Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…

Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 

You were so, so right. 

There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 

Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 

Well, other than Elain. 

Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 

You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 

Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 

You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 

“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 

A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 

That was new. 

“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 

You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 

So why did it suddenly feel so different?

“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 

Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 

As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 

Something about it felt… wrong. 

“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 

Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 

“What does that—” 

The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 

You shuddered at the thought. 

This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 

Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 

“Get under the tables!”

You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 

Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 

“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 

Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 

After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 

“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 

Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 

You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 

She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 

“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 

“Are you hurt?” 

You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 

Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 

He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 

When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 

“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 

“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 

Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 

“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 

Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 

You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 

“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 

“And how is everyone else?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 

“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 

“I am now.”

You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 

Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 

But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 

[baeshijima]

— “hands off! i’m taken!”

for the first time in your drunken daze, you don't recognise your own husband.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 983 wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, mentions/reference of alcohol consumption

A/N : neuvillette is in pain (emotional) while you are in pain the morning after (literal).

it’s not often neuvillette finds free time amongst the seemingly endless piles of papers on his desk. when he does get some free-time, he always makes sure to treat you out to the places you most recently show interest in. however, these evenings out more often than not result in you having one too many drinks. (“it’s a rare evening date!” you would tut, waving a finger at him while your free hand holds the wine glass.)

he worries for you and your health after all, and he most definitely doesn't want you to experience these so-called "hangovers" you bemoan about as he coddles you through it all the mornings after.

and so what better way to help prevent such a tragedy than by putting a stop to it prematurely?

“hands off! i’m taken!”

…or so he thought.

regardless, that doesn’t change the fact neuvillette now stands in the middle of one of the (now quite humid) private rooms in the upper floor of hotel debord, clutching his stinging hand close to his chest while staring at your huffing form in a mixture of hurt and shock. he blinks once, twice, thrice as he slowly begins to process your words — or, lack of.

“pardon?”

“i said,” you stress, narrowing your gaze at him as you begin to sit up, “hands off! i’ll have you know i’m happily married to the loveliest, most beautifulest man in teyvat and i don’t need some… some meddlesome old creep trying to get in between that.”

were this quite literally any other day besides one you were drunk on, neuvillette would be jumping for joy over the moon (metaphorical… probably) and documenting this moment in his diary he keeps safe and secured in a locked drawer under his desk, positively cooing and sighing in pure adoration at your adorable self.

(he also doesn’t have the heart to tell you beautifulest isn’t exactly a real word, but he’s flattered all the same. and it makes you that much more adorable in his eyes.)

alas, this isn’t any other day. no, instead it is a day which marks his drunk spouse being unable to identify their own husband, and your intoxicated words render him silent. 

now, don’t get him wrong, he’s glad you are, for a lack of better words, raring to defend your marital status and honour when intoxicated. however…

‘meddlesome old creep’? is that how he appears? he thought he looked quite dashing this evening, what with the way you sang his praises after he got himself dressed and questioned if you were actually married to one another.

then again, he supposes it’s still accurate to say you’re still questioning whether or not he is your husband. just not in the joking manner you initially did.

seeing how you’ve begun to grow a little restless with his prolonged silence, neuvillette awkwardly clears his throat and begins in what he hopes is a tone which masks the minor betrayal your words caused. “i’m glad you feel that way about our marriage, mon cœur, but—”

“stop!” neuvillette’s mouth instantly ceases movement. “how… how dare you, a stranger, call me that! just who… who do you think you are? my husband?”

“actually, i am.”

you blink at him. “you’re what?”

“i am your husband. neuvillette.” in all honesty, he doesn’t know why he’s nervous. perhaps it’s your scrutinising gaze causing him to sweat, taking him back to the first days when he could finally put a name to the emotions you brought out from within him — ones which have never weakened, but only seem to grow stronger as the days pass by. his hands clam up, and he’s glad you can’t see him wiping his palms against the fabric of his clothes from where you sit. even when you’re drunk, you tend to remember the most random moments. more often than not, they end up being in some relation to him.

(neuvillette laments the times where you only remembered his brief loss of composure.)

after a few more agonising seconds of staring, you speak up once more. “you’re lying.”

there are many things neuvillette wishes to say in response — such as showing your wedding rings, pulling out the small polaroid of you both nestled within his inner coat pocket, recalling the first day you met, the first day you talked, the first “thank you” you ever said to him, the first—

quickly, he snaps himself out of this spiral. just in the nick of time too, for you open your mouth to say something else. “my neuvillette is cute and lovely and pretty and everything a person could only dream to have.”

is he not cute right now? is he not lovely and pretty right now? is he not everything a person could only dream to have right now? what makes the him through your drunken lens so different to the him in your memories?

against his better judgement, he decides to ask the big question.

“then… may i ask what i am?”

“a liar.” and, as if to rub salt in the wound, you add, “i don’t like liars.”

neuvillette feels as though he could cry.

(when you awoke to a pounding headache the next morning, the last thing you expected was your husband brooding on the edge of the bed, his back facing you as he mumbled something along the lines of, “i would lie for you… not to you…” though it was a little hard to tell amidst the incessant pitter-patter of rain against the window.

despite racking your brain in an effort to figure out what caused him to be in such a state in the first place, the only things you remembered from last night were him wiping his hands on his clothes, as well as him looking as though someone slapped him across the face.

yeah. perhaps it is best you don’t tell him that.)

mon cœur = my heart, which can be read as my sweetheart/other half/life, etc.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

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[kirkwallsquad]

favorite da2 battle lines in no particular order

i'm listening to a compilation by danaduchy on youtube rn so

literally every fenris line bcs everyone else is YELLING and he's just speaking in his regular quiet-ish voice. king what are you saying i can't HEAR YOU

except for when hawke goes down. THEN he's loudly upset.

"hawke's down! time to panic!" (isabela)

"the tame elf is down" (varric - what the fuck omg don't call fenris that)

"your pet elf has fallen" (carver - WHAT THE FUCK OMG DON'T CALL FENRIS THAT)

"that moody mage is down" (aveline)

"ugh, can someone pick up fenris please?" (merrill)

"isabela's on the ground... appropriately" (aveline - HELLO?!?!?!?)

"merrill! oh, blood mages are so dramatic" (isabela)

"aveline has fallen?" (fenris - why is this a question babe)

"they got whatshisname, the mage" (varric - i continue to believe he doesn't know anders' name until act 3)

"the dwarf has dropped a few more feet" (sebastian)

"dear varric, please learn to parry. love, your innards" (varric)

"do you have something for this, because it hurts" (carver)

"even my teeth hurt" (anders)

"i've got so many bruises now they've got names and families" (merrill)

"ugh, i have dirt in my mouth" (sebastian)

"you're going to let me walk around injured?" (carver)

"being close to death is very bad for my morale" (isabela)

sebastian describes his wounds as "oozing" or "seeping" more than once

"i know dalish are meant to be close to the earth, but we don't mean literally" (merrill)

"i'm alright, who needs kidneys anyway" (isabela)

"hawke. varric. i think this is bad." (merrill)

"stop being you and fix me up" (carver - BABY. BABY BROTHER.)

"that really gets the blood flowing" but also "i will fight and pray for forgiveness later" but also "this is much more exciting than the chantry!" (sebastian - what is wrong with you <3)

"my face is not a shield!" (hawke)

"and they say drinking doesn't solve anything" (isabela)

"haawke i can't mooove" (sebastian)

"i'm too far away, what do you want me to do? shout at them?" (isabela)

"i'd have to fly to reach! of course, i've always wanted to learn to fly" (merrill - she's literally the funniest person ever)

"alas, no" (fenris)

"my faith is my armor! my cause is my shield!" (sebastian)

"if we kill them, we get their stuff!" (isabela)

"andraste's knees, it's like herding cats!" (isabela)

"AFRAID YET?!" (anders)

"RUN! WHILE YOU CAN!" (anders - he's so loud i love him)

"another one for me! how many have you gotten, hawke?" (varric)

"ah. a shame that you're going to die, no?" (fenris)

"you. me. and an audience. that's what this is all about!" (carver)

"may the creators have mercy on you! i certainly won't." (merrill)

"destructive forces of nature, coming up!" (anders)

"suck on a fireball!" (anders)

"NEVER TAUNT A MAGE!!!" (anders)

"a thrust, now a parry" (fenris)

"i'm gonna taunt you in elvish now! durgen'len! aravel! vallaslin!" (merrill)

"hello, i'm merrill, and i'll be your distraction." (merrill)

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHY MAGES ARE FEARED!!!" (anders)

"maker please forgive your children" followed immediately by "DID YOU SEE THAT SHOT" (sebastian)

"WANT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER THESE ROBES?!?!?!" (anders)

"I'M RIGHT HERE! HIT ME!" (isabela)

"maker, the idiocy" (bethany)

"MAKER BLESS YOUR CHILDREN IN THEIR HOUR OF NEEEED" (sebastian)

"my weapon does nothing??" (fenris - he sounds so puzzled help)

"this is SO not working" (anders)

"if the pointy sticks don't work, try the other pointy sticks" (isabela)

"ah, dear. why doesn't anyone ever want to be nice to us?" (merrill)

"is there an end to the people who hate you?" (aveline)

"looks like we've got a few more puppies to kick" (isabela - HELLO?!?)

"take a step, kill, repeat repeat repeat" (carver)

"the hate you inspire is unfortunate" (fenris)

"another twenty steps, another batch of deaths" (anders)

"nobody seems to like you. do you get used to that?" (merrill - ouch. brutal hskfjhgksdjfhg)

"i can't take credit for all of this. hawke helped a little bit" (isabela)

[brittle-doughie]

Since we had that story of Y/N Cookie wanting to keep the Ancients from going out and getting themselves killed up against Dark Enchantress Cookie, how about something similar with the Beasts?

>The Beasts get corrupted

>Y/N Cookie, not corrupted, tries to fight them, and fails

>cue them starting to die

>Beasts start panicking, completely overestimating how much Y/N Cookie could take

>Y/N Cookie, in their last moments, wishes they could’ve done more to help the Beasts not get corrupted before finally going

>Witch(es) stumble upon this scene, seeing their greatest cookie having been crumbled, along with whatever other carnage is around

>cue literally everything else

Being sealed away with the guilt of spilling jam from the cookie you all loved the most fresh on your mind? They are NOT gonna be doing so hot in there.

The Tale of the Forced Hand (The Five Beasts)

Witch’s Castle witches are pretty neat.

“The story begins when this very Silver Tree was only a small sapling…When the World of Desserts was at its infancy.”

“The Witches baked six Cookies to help them in their creation of the world.”

“..harness the radiance bestowed upon you for the betterment of this world…”

“And the six Cookies imbued with absolute powers walked Earthbread as almighty envoys of the Great Creators.”

“Knowledge, Volition, Compassion, Happiness, Change, and Solidarity.”

“The Dessert World bound by these Five Virtues was nothing short of paradise.”

Gingerbrave and Wizard Cookie chimed in with their responses.

“So those six Cookies were the original owners of the Soul Jam?”

“Huh…Those “Six Virtues” are different from those of the Soul Jams. There’s six of them, yet only five today…”

“The Virtue of Compassion is what held the other Virtues so closely together, cherishing each of them equally as much.”

“Alas, for they and the perfect age were short-lived. Absolute power begets nothing but arrogance. It inevitably corrupts its wielder, bringing them to the most tragic of ends…A fate even the Witches were unable to foresee.”

“One by one, the Five, once regarded as saviors of the Cookie World, gradually turned to Darkness. And thus, the Five Virtues, too, became distorted, twisted…reduced to Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence….”

Strawberry Cookie shuddered in worry at the mere mention of the fallen virtues.

“Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction, and Silence..that sounds really scary…

“Wait, what about the Virtue of Compassion? They weren’t evil too, were they?”

“The Virtue of Compassion was able to prevail against their descent into Darkness with their Soul Jam, whereas now the Five Beasts, the apostles of evil, began their dark crusade…”

“The Witches asked of Compassion to protect the Cookie World from the Beast Cookies, lending them what strength they could give.”

“Compassion fought bravely against the Beasts, blocking each of their blows and resisting their sickly whispers…But it was only a matter of time before Compassion slowly began to whittle…”

———————————————————————

“Come on, snap out of you all! This isn’t what you guys once were!”

“What’s the big deal, silly willy~ There isn’t anything wrong with dabbling yourself in a little bit of Darkness, you should try it with us!”

“No! This isn’t you! You were all my best friends! Come to your senses! Now!”

“It pains me to see you still cling onto false hope that you’re different than the rest of us, darling~ Can you just let go and become who you really are? For me~?”

“I can’t…I cannot forsake my oath to protect the Cookie World. You all know that! Cookies that want happy lives, don’t you want that?”

“They will all meet the same fate in the end, reduced to nothing…the futility of all this should be clear to you…”

“As if! It isn’t pointless to live life the way you want it to! It’s how you spend it and make the most of it!”

“They will all crumble in the end, so why not give them a little push! You’re starting to really aggravate me now, Y/N Cookie!”

“I won’t let you hurt them and I don’t want to hurt you all any more then I have to! Please, don’t do this…”

“……”

“Your silence says everything I need to hear from you. I tried…but I will put a stop you no matter if I’m reduced to bits!”

———————————————————————

“Woah….What happened to them?”

“The Virtue of Compassion fought for as long as they were able, their dough slowly whittling away with every blow that dealt to them. The Beasts have overestimated just how durable their former friend was…and they perished right in the middle of the circle….”

———————————————————————

“Ok, ya silly goose! You can stand right back up now! You put on a great show, let us give you a round of applause!”

“Darling, we know we haven’t hit you too hard. You can join us and we can all be together once more as Beasts…”

“Hmm…they don’t seem to be responding to us…”

“Hey, Y/N Cookie. Quit being soft and get up already, you’re..starting to worry me a bit here, you know.”

Silent Salt Cookie knelt down and placed their thumb on your wrist…jumping back when they feel nothing…

“Ahaha! Okay! This isn’t funny anymore, you softie! You win! Stand up on your two feet now! I’ll make you if you don’t!”

“D-Darling? P-Please get up. Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I-WE just really wanted you to join us…”

“Burning Spice Cookie, just how hard were your strikes to their dough?

“D-Don’t put any type of blame on me! All of you were just as rough with them as I was!”

“….!”

The Beast Cookies rushed to their fallen friend in the center, clearly distraught on their faces…

“Y/N Cookie, if you don’t stop playing jokes with me right now, I’ll never forgive you!”

“Darling! Wake up! I-I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have hit you so hard! Please wake up! You have to! Don’t leave me alone!”

“It was pointless to try and stop us, Y/N Cookie. Yet…my heart cries and aches, why did you have to resist….please, wake up…”

“God DAMN IT. I-I went too far, I shouldn’t have been so brutal with my swings and now look at you, your dough..damaged and ruined….because of me….”

“….Hmph….”

Silent Salt just lowered their head to look at the ground, feeling nothing but shame and remorse for what they had done…for what they all had done….

“I wish…I could’ve done more for you all…I wished…that I had loved all of you more…to not…end up like this...”

“…..I’m sorry…..”

———————————————————————

“The Witches couldn’t bear to see what fate had befallen their creations, made even more distraught at the loss of their greatest creation among them all…they punished the Beasts by sealing them away deep within this land…”

“And planted the seed of the Silver Tree to ensure their evil power never sees the light of day again. Right where the Virtue of Compassion was laid to rest, so that at least a part of them can live on….From then on, this land where the Beasts were put to sleep, was called Beast Yeast.”

“The Witches then gathered the last vestiges of power bestowed upon the Beasts, untouched by their corruption. They further cleansed, purified it, and in the end…Soul Jam was created. The purest Soul Jam was meant to be earned by Cookies who had proven themselves worthy.”

“All, but Compassion. For their purity simply could not be remade again. The Witch who personally baked Compassion had locked herself away in grief after the loss of her cookie and took the knowledge of the recipe and baking of Compassion with her…”

“So, there can never be another cookie like Compassion?”

“It’s what they say, but all life powder returns to the earth. It isn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Virtue of Compassion may return in some form, someday…”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Y/N Cookie, who was casually eating some food offered to them by the Faeries.

“…..What?”

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 30: something wrong

NOTES: this took longer than i thought 💀 anw it was more tamed than i imagined omg yay!! ^^

Scaramouche thought the car ride home was plenty suffocating, but nothing could compare to how heavy the air was once he got home with his mother.

An extensive home that is reasonably far from other neighboring houses, with a spacious lot surrounding the house itself. It could've been such a perfect home — if not for the two broken people living in it.

As his mother remained silent while the two of them exited the car, Scaramouche thought he had at least the whole night to prepare for his mother's outburst. Alas, they haven't even made it to the front door yet, and he had already started hearing something.

"Kunikuzushi."

He merely turned to her, not even saying a word.

"Just what happened?" Scaramouche could not get something from his mother's voice at all. She wasn't yelling — it would be out of character for her to do so anyway. But she obviously wasn't happy either. But at least it wasn't that cold, too?

At a loss for words, the young man forced himself to focus his gaze on one random thing, perhaps the grass peacefully lying on their front yard.

'I'll just have to let her say anything and everything she wants to say, and I'll say nothing. And then tomorrow, we'll just continue like nothing happened,' he thought.

And so he did, letting his mother's words pass through one ear to the other. 'How can you let yourself play like that', 'how can you allow people to see you like that', 'just what would they say about you now', 'this isn't what we trained for'... Nothing he wasn't used to. It was all alright. He can go through another sermon session just fine.

Until he was knocked out of his stupor by a certain statement from his mother.

"Perhaps I should've gotten between you and that companion of yours I saw in the freedom wall. I think she is distracting you, maybe you should stay away from her."

A sudden surge of rage came over him, prompting him to finally meet eyes with his own mother. Ei was slightly taken aback, not used to receiving such a hateful look from her one and only son.

"What?"

The woman could not utter a response, still in shock at the state her son is in. She was so used to him being so indifferent whenever they talk, making it seem as if her advices and sermons have no effect at the slightest.

Meanwhile, Scaramouche, at the lack of response from his mother, could not stop himself anymore.

Scaramouche felt like a balloon — thinned, worn out, and keeping too much inside.

Much more than he could handle.

And his mother's words that night felt like a sharpened needle.

"Why the fuck do I always have to do what you tell me?" He finally snapped.

"What?"

"Can't you see that I'm trying?! And yet you always see something!" Scaramouche gritted his teeth.

"You always see something to criticize! You always see something like a flaw! You always see something wrong!" He yelled, shortly followed by a bitter laugh. "Heck, maybe you even consider my birth to be something wrong."

A swift slap cut him off.

Somehow, the physical pain inflicted by his mother got him out of his continuous outbursts, replacing his seething anger with shock. No matter how cold and strict his mother was, she had never gotten physical with him.

Refusing to believe what just happened, a wondering Scaramouche looked back up to his mother's face — only to see her eyes dripping and her cheeks stained.

'Are those tears?'

'My mother... crying?'

"How could you say something like that Kunikuzushi?"

"How can you treat your life so lightly like that?" Ei sobbed. "Your birth wasn't something wrong — it was the most beautiful thing that happened to me."

The young man just stared at her, probably in disbelief.

"You are my son, a part of me, something even more important than myself —"

"— and that's why I never wish to see you hurt."

"Hah," Scaramouche scoffed. "Really?"

The man could not do anything but laugh ironically. She doesn't want to see him hurt, she says?

'I hate to break it to you mom, but you've been doing that for so long.'

How many lies would she feed him tonight?

"I don't want you to suddenly commit a mistake while playing, put yourself to shame, and be unnecessarily criticized and judged heavily." The purple-haired woman said. "And if that happens? Then what? You'll be so affected by all the backlash, and then you'll finally lose yourself?"

Scaramouche swore he never expected to see his mother cry so hard. In fact, crying was one of the things he thought his mother was incapable of doing. But what was she saying?

Where is she getting all this from?

"What?"

"I don't want anyone precious to me to ever experience that again."

"What the heck are you talking about, mom?"

It was a slip of the tongue, unconsciously going back to what he once used to call the woman in front of him. A slip of the tongue that he failed to catch, but did not go past his own mother, whose memories of the days when he used to call her 'mom' flashed by her eyes.

But before she could even explain herself, someone else made their presence known.

"Your mother had a sister, you see."

It was Yae.

His mother's old friend.

“Have you ever heard of Makoto?” The pink-haired lady asked. Scaramouche could not see the relevance of her question, but he decided to humor her nonetheless. “Who?”

“My twin sister.”

“You had a sister?!”

Scaramouche thought he knew a lot about his mother. But really, is he even qualified to say that he knew her if he knew nothing about her past before having him? Everything he knew about Ei were memories of them together. Her being a loving mother to him when he was little, her having Yae as her only friend, her suddenly changing her parental practices once he started his soccer career — all of them were memories of her after his existence.

Only now did he realize he never knew anything about his mother’s past.

Yae sighed. “How is he ever going to understand if you never told him about Makoto, Ei?”

“It’s too dark of a story. He might not be able to handle it.”

“And you think he can handle your coldness and strictness forever?”

“What, do you want me to discourage my son from his dreams of being a top soccer player by telling him that my twin sister fucked up on a game just once, got so many backlash and became the people’s punching bag, went depressed up to the point that she couldn’t handle it anymore and eventually lost herself?” Ei spat out. “I don’t want to scare him off from achieving his dreams, but I can’t also risk the possibility of him having the same experience as my sister.”

What the fuck?

Merely processing the things he was hearing already required so much from the young man. He could not bear to disturb the conversation between the two ladies, lest there are still some things he should hear.

“So you set high expectations for him?”

“It was the only way I thought of.”

“Have you ever considered the thought that you yourself may actually be ruining his dreams for him?”

“What?” Ei turned her gaze to Scaramouche for a moment, allowing her to once again notice the state that her son was in. Trembling hands clenched into fists, focused yet glossy eyes, and brows furrowed — she couldn’t tell if they were out of fury or confusion. Perhaps it was both.

“You are making your son hate that dream of his that you sought to protect with the way you are treating him, Ei.” Yae walked towards the young man and lightly tapped his shoulder. “What this kid wants is to have fun playing, not play under constant expectations and strictness from his mother.”

Scaramouche looked up at her, who only smiled at him in return. “Isn’t that right, Kunikuzushi?”

He turned his face away from her and immediately swatted her hand from his shoulder. “What would you know about what I want?”

“Oh? But was I wrong?” She grinned. “No response? I must’ve been right then.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re just salty I’m right.”

“I am not?” The guy scowled. “Stop making things up you annoying hag —“

“Uh, excuse me?! What hag?!”

A certain purple-haired woman remained all throughout the banter between her son and her friend. When was the last time her son spoke to her without reservations like that? No, when was the last time they even had a proper conversation, one where he isn’t replying with words not even amounting to a handful?

“Ei, I want to ask you something.” A voice brought her out of her trance. “How do the other players on your team look whenever they practice and play?”

“Tired.” Ei described exactly how the boys on the team looked whenever they were on the field. Their whole beings drenched in sweat, their limbs trembling, their breaths hurried.

But despite everything, she remembered that they were having fun.

“But were they having fun?”

“They were.”

“And how does your own son look whenever he’s on the field?”

For the first time that night, absolute silence reigned over their abode’s front yard.

“See?” The pink-haired woman smiled. “Don’t you want Kunikuzushi to have the same experience as everybody else on your team?”

For the first time, Scaramouche heard the two words he thought he would never ever hear coming out from his mother’s mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[theanimeroom]

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

💎 bf!toge inumaki who uses his cursed speech on you while eating you out. this wasn’t the first time you’d requested this out of him, but alas, he was too worried about hurting you. he’d seen the things that he was capable of when he got too reckless, and the last thing he wanted to do was turn you into a vegetable.

“bonito flakes,” his voice was stern, shaking his head adamantly as you stood in front of him with a pout. you could tell by the look in his eye that he wasn’t willing to budge on the matter, but you weren’t very keen on giving up. you asked him day after day, only to be met with the same response.

you’d understood inumaki’s concern completely. even you had gotten a glimpse of the destruction he could cause if he ever said the wrong thing, but you couldn’t help the way that your thighs instinctively squeezed together to relieve the pressure building between your legs every time.

you’d linger in the back of the group at the end of every mission, eyes staring holes into the back of the man’s head as you tried not to get consumed by the rather scandalous thoughts that plagued you.

the constant stream of images kept you from being able to let go, growing more insistent and vivid every time he ended up between your legs.

the knot in your stomach would strain, the brief thought of his husky voice filling your ears never failing to send you spiraling.

“toge…” the gasp slipped from you before you could stop it, eyes rolling as your back lurched from the bed. your fingers found purchase in the strands of hair that covered his eyes, giving you a full view of the violet hues. he peered up at you, marked tongue swiping between your folds as you tried to keep your body still, per his request.

"bonito flakes," he said as he pushed your trembling thighs open once more. you muttered out an apology as you tried to remain still, but you just had too much trouble following the man's instructions.

your hips launched off of the mattress as his lips curled around your engorged bud, sucking lightly before his hand reached around to tuck itself under your leg. a firm press on your lower stomach followed by a soft “tuna,” left you whimpering.

“m’ trying,” you whimpered, yet you couldn’t stop your body from jerking each time his lips connected with your puffy clit. it was too much, it felt like you’d been close for hours. a soft moan from inumaki went straight to your cunt, hips instinctively rolling into the warmth of his mouth. you wanted to come, wanted to coat his face in your arousal until his lips and nose were glistening. a brief dip of the man’s head allowed him to lick at your sopping entrance, a firm lick upwards sending the tip of his nose bumping into the sensitive bud. “oh my fucking-”

desperation seeped through your veins as you squeezed your legs together so tight your knees grazed each other, effectively trapping the purple eyed man in your heat.

his hand grasped your thigh tightly, groaning as his source of oxygen was suddenly cut off. another throaty moan slipping into the air at the vibration, you rocked your hips into the man’s face. foregoing his ability to breathe, you chased your high with fervor, the feeling of needles pricking at your skin a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. inumaki’s mouth slipped open, licking a fat stripe against your cunt rough enough to make your legs shiver, the grip loosening just enough to force them back open.

your brows furrowed deeply as he finally managed to pull away, breathing labored as you chased the feeling of his lips and tongue against you. a desperate whine was the last thing you heard before toge’s usually soft hands dug into the back of both your thighs, pushing the limbs as far apart as they could reach until-

“don’t move.”

the words flooded your system, eyes shooting open to bulge as wide as saucers when your body froze in place. with a heavy pulse your cunt leaked against the bed, arousal covering every last inch of your being as you attempted to curl your fingers, only to be met with no movement. your gaze shot down to the man between your legs, breathing growing even more labored when you immediately met his eye. he was observing you, trying to make sure that you were okay, but the sight of those violet irises and marked tongue left you with limited vocabulary.

“please,” was the only thing you could manage, eyes begging silently for him to drag you over the edge and into the depths of pleasure. at your approval inumaki dove back in, eyes never leaving your face as you watched him eat you out to his hearts content. where your legs would usually shaking and body convulsing, you could only mewl as you were forced to take it, eyes glazing over as two fingers slowly traced your entrance, collecting your arousal around the digits before easing their way inside of you.

another moan permeated the air as they reached the second knuckle, inumaki once again wrapping his lips around your clit before curling his fingers in your warmth.

the pressure would have launched you off the bed had you not been compelled, expletives leaving you left and right as you felt the knot in your stomach starting to unravel.

“gonna… gonna come!!” you’d moan, face contorting as that was the only part of your body that you still had control over. you felt him pull his face away for a moment, eyes peeling open just long enough to watch him stare up at you. he curled his fingers until they were fucking your g-spot, gaze never leaving you as he flexed his jaw. it looked like he wanted to say something, contemplation written on his visage until he seemingly made his decision. holding your attention as he pressed soft kisses along your inner thigh, you held your breath when his swollen lips parted slightly.

you briefly wondered what would come out of his mouth; tuna? salmon? or maybe he would just say-

“come.”

the word was firm and commanding, your mind barely having time to comprehend it before immense pleasure crashed through you in waves. his tone ran. straight between your legs, his usual tone being replaced by something deeper, darker. it reminded you of all the times you'd heard him during battle, forcing his words into their mind before they could even react. you could barely breathe with the way his fingers prodded against you, the pace only quickening as you cried out for him. “toge!”

“harder.”

it felt like his voice was echoing in your mind, it permeated your senses, leaving your body as a vessel for him to take advantage of. the thought made your head spin and pussy throb.

“FUCK,” you could barely keep up as the world started rotating around you. your body felt like it was cracking under pressure, mind and body numbing from pleasure. your legs shook instinctively, tears staining your waterline when his tongue started to lap against your clit once more. you pleaded softly, begging your arms to move so you could wrap your fingers around his soft tufts of hair. "s'too much.."

his movements slowed when your breathing started to sound too labored, you staring at the back of your eyelids until inumaki's voice broke through your haze.

“mustard leaf?”

there’s your sweet boy. you whimpered as he lowered your legs back down, a surprised grunt escaping when you tried to shift your body, your mind actually taking over control of your limbs once more.

a small, fatigued smile crossed your face, looking down at him with drowsy eyes. “i’m okay, baby.”

inumaki watched you for another few seconds as you caught your breath, making sure that you weren’t just trying to placate him before climbing towards the top of the bed. you gazed at him as his eyes ran from yours all the way down your body, a brush of his lower half against your upper leg reminding you that you were in fact not done for the night.

inumaki grinned as he took in your expression, placing a soft kiss against your lips before peering back at you.

“salmon.”

[atrwriting]

mercy — fem!highborn!reader x davos blackwood

was everyone else going crazy to find out that this man is actually named davos ?? absolutely wild. i refuse to believe it is davos, but alas — i must comply.

someone said that this guy would match your freak and i haven’t been able to unsee it and therefore i compose

as always, warnings: smuuuuuuut, knife play, choking, swearing, switch reader, power bottom davos, my very own self indulgence

____

with your family and several others declaring for rhaenyra targaryen, the one true queen, it led to others seeing women in a different light. a daughter of a highborn family like you would not be trapped to embroider for the rest of your life — unless you wanted to. that was the beauty of choice and what rhaenyra had started — you should have the same opportunities of men in that age, including the opportunity and ability to choose.

and so you did: you chose to fight.

with war brewing, how could you stand by and only wield a needle and thread when you didn’t want to and had the ability to do something else? what, were you going to embroider the war? some battle with red thread? illustrating the rage and fighting of men losing their lives with and against fire and blood? absolutely not. if you could wield a sword instead, and weren’t half bad — maybe that would save someone else from fighting.

and so you did. you started training.

you weren’t half bad, honestly — given your size and age. most men began when they were boys and very small, growing into their strength and work ethic. you could not be blamed for your lack of skill — it just meant that when you could wield a sword against a worthy opponent and beat them, you would gain the respect you deserve.

and you would work for it. you had to.

in order to achieve that, you had to actually find willing opponents. despite the fact that they declared for rhaenyra, that did not mean that other soldiers wanted to face a woman in a fair fight. you tried not to take it too personally — as they would probably fear for your father’s response if you had been hurt. you tried to understand, but you wanted to improve — needed to improve.

however, there was one person that was willing to spar with you.

you rolled your eyes just thinking of the name.

davos blackwood.

there was nothing wrong with him — but he bothered you. got under your skin in a way that no other man could, nor even dream of being able to. he taunted you the first time you had ever met him, and taunted you further towards the first time you had ever sparred with him. you did not mind someone baiting you, but to be constantly reminded of your lack of skill, your womanhood, and the approaching war was a weight on one’s shoulders that a beginner could not always bear the weight of. they would not expect a young boy to withstand that pressure, and didn't understand why davos would expect you to handle it. when that insecurity was opened and showcased for onlookers to see fighting in daylight, it was even harder. you didn’t understand why he was trying so hard to, frankly, haze you — and it’s not like he seemed open to fair or friendly communication.

so you tried to avoid him.

you tried.

you really, really did try… but in the end, he was the only one willing — and you had to learn.

you sighed with reluctance — knowing what you had to do.

when he was alone in the camp you were both staying at, you walked up to him.

“...lord blackwood?” you asked, trying to refrain from using a soft voice.

he turned around to face you, a smirk already growing on his lips. one of his hands was lazily gripping the hilt of his sword, while the other grasped his hip. his shoulders were wide and strong — indicative of how skilled of a fighter he was. you clenched your teeth — hoping you wouldn’t regret this, as you could only benefit. you had to keep reminding yourself of that — a means to an end. that's all this is and would be. it's worth it. you then tried to meet his eyes as the wind swept his brown hair from his line of sight.

if he wasn’t so snarky, you might have found him attractive.

might have.

“yes, my lady?” he asked.

you could hear his smirk in his tone — like he already knew what you were going to ask, and how much you did not want to ask it.

you folded your bottom lip in between your teeth. “...would you be willing to spar with me?”

“i would,” he replied. “you have not asked me since our last. i have some time now — should we find an open space?”

you shook your head. “perhaps this evening... when people have retired?”

he raised an eyebrow, obviously displeased with your decision. “...why is that, my lady?”

“less of an audience, my lord,” you tried to say confidently.

he raised an eyebrow at you. “battles are not won in private, my lady.”

you tried to keep your tone flat, fighting the urge to turn your nose up at him. “i’m aware.”

“so why do you not join me now?”

“i would like to make mistakes once or twice in private — and then i will feel more comfortable where others can see.”

“you would do fine now, my lady,” he spoke, but then dipped his head. “but as you wish.”

you felt dirty after he agreed — you couldn't put your finger on why. the dip of his head — like he was giving into the conquest and silly dream of that of a young girl. a young, naive, innocent girl who would never be taken seriously, no matter how hard she tried — but you couldn't think like that. you couldn't afford to — especially not during the time of war. you swallowed you pride, and waited for your meeting.

he kept his promise. later that evening, when the sun was setting, you finally met him in the sword shed before you intended to meet him in the makeshift arena. you found him sharpening his sword, face being illuminated by the lamp light. you entered the shed.

"good evening, my lady," he greeted, with a hint of grit in his voice.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "good evening, lord blackwood."

"following in your fashion — should we start with something easy? something, say — one starts with at the wee age of — eleven, perhaps?"

“i never asked you to go easy on me — but i would have hoped that after i voiced my concerns as to why i would prefer not to have an audience when i spar with you, you would’ve understood.”

“and — pray tell, my lady, why would i have understood?”

you slapped your sides in defeat, beginning to get frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t read between the fucking lines. your cheeks were beginning to pinch at the feeling of flush. “because it was like you were constantly reminding me that i am new to this and that it was unlikely that i would ever get better!"

he raised his eyebrows then, eyes widening. the smirk was still playing at his lips, as he couldn't help but let an amused chuckle push past his lips — intending mockery. “my intention was to make you better, my lady.”

you shook your head in disbelief, almost scoffing. “i just — it would’ve been nice —“

“nice?” he scoffed, walking towards you then. he approached you with his hands behind his back, but his walk was led by his head, neck, and shoulders. it stuck out at you like he couldn't wrap his head around as to how you could believe or say such a thing. “my lady, there is no nice on the battle field. not only do you have to beat the swords you go up against, but also the men wielding them. i was not nice to you because there is not enough time. you do not have enough time to learn at the pace of a boy, because you are a learning to fight as a woman during the time where another woman is fighting for her crown. you need to be good — for your family, for your army, for your queen — and because i want you to be good.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, sucking in a sharp breath at his words. there stood davos, pleading with you to have confidence in your own ability and skill — despite how he always made you doubt it. you didn't know what to think, let alone believe. “i am not naive enough to believe that the battle field is nice — just forget it, i can’t —“

you went to turn away, but he stopped you. he grabbed you by the elbow, and you immediately turned to face him. within almost an instant, you had stopped his other arm. you shoved his grip down at the same time you pressed a knife to the skin of his neck with your free hand.

you bared your teeth at him, the tip of your nose pulsing into a snarl. there was a dagger to his throat, but nothing compared to the ones you shot with your eyes. your pupils dilated so the only thing in your vision was blackwood and his dark eyes, only focused on yours. both sets of eyes had seen peace and danger, fire and ice —but neither knew the feeling you had when you looked into davos blackwood's eyes and witnessed the exact moment he realized you had been the one to best him. to have his throat at the mercy of your wrist, and have him still smirk down at you — was a feeling that startled you, and excited you.

he pushed against the blade, forcing you to reluctantly allow his head to lower to yours. you could feel his hot breath on your face, shrinking your space. "is that what will make you feel more confident, my lady? — you think you can best me, with a knife to my throat?"

he walked forward, forcing you backwards. you continued taking steps backward when he did not stop. soon, your back was pressed up against a table your lower back had been stopped by. the force of davos' hips collided with yours, pressing you against the table. the plumpness of your ass was pushed into the wood as davos planted himself between your thighs. "is this how you make yourself feel safe? — because even if i am stronger, that does not negate the fact that in a moment's time you could bleed me."

"i could —" you bit — as if that statement was something monumental. as if you hadn't agreed with his own statement. as if it wasn't pathetic.

you watched as he realized that fact the same time you did.

"but will you?" he asked, in a soft, taunting voice.

"i could," you spat again.

pathetic, you spat to yourself in your head. at that same moment, davos smirked down at you.

"there is nothing more enticing than a woman who knows her strength," he spoke, tone threatening to break. "especially against a man whom they both know could end her.”

“testing me, davos?” you spat, nose turning up at him. his smirk wavered when he felt the sharpness of the blade scrape his skin, threatening to draw blood.

“oh — i find myself doing more than that, my lady,” he pressed forward once more, so your noses were almost touching. there were inches — barely inches — between your lips, words ghosting over your skin. his breaths hit your lips with such force you almost believed they were touching. you couldn't let it show on your face — couldn’t let him know he was winning, or that he won. “you want to keep that blade at my throat? be my guest — as long as you let me do this.”

with your lower back pressed against the table and the knife flat on his throat, davos locked you in by placing both of his hands on either side of your thighs. he leaned forward, and he took what he wanted. he took, and took, and took until you were putty in his hands. he held your lips hostage with his own, leaving you at his mercy. mercy, mercy, mercy. you were jailed in his embrace, hating and relishing it at the same time.

your free hand gripped his collar, pulling him into your knife and you. you didn’t even realize you were doing it — or maybe you didn’t want to admit it. maybe you didn’t want to admit that you liked the man who constantly bullied you, nor that you liked the boldness in his smirk before he kissed you.

“you bastard —“ your insult was breathless. pathetic. ridiculous. it made him smile, and it only made your pride and shame swirl in your chest more. how dare he? how could he? “you fucking — !“

“that’s right, my sweet — “ he grunted, pushing your skirts to the side. you felt the cool air hit your exposed thighs, a blush rising to your cheeks. he laughed against your lips before sliding his tongue into your mouth. you could’ve if you wanted to — you so could’ve — you could’ve, you could’ve, you fucking could’ve, but you didn’t want to — you didn’t want to push him away. the knife, still pressed against his skin, wanted to push him away. wanted to cut him. wanted to bring him pain. wanted to get him away — but you? no. your body’s reluctance fell away once you felt his hands slips between your thighs. “hate me — come on — show me how strong you are — show me how much you fucking hate me.”

his thumb was on your clit, sensitive with excitement and anger — never been touched before. his finger drew circles; a long curve on the top of your bundle of nerves, fast when it made he made his way towards the top of the circle once more. long, and drawn out was his torture. he wound you up tight, only for him and at his mercy. he shoved his middle and ring finger inside you, letting the pads of his fingers rub the length of the roof of your cunt. the beckoning motion brought you closer and closer to him, no matter how hard you tried to fight him inside.

“keep that knife at my throat, my lady,” he spat. “let’s see if you can keep a steady hand without drawing blood when i make you cum. — i’m betting you can’t.”

“fuck…” you trailed off off, getting lost in his movements. “f-fuck you.”

“that’s all the brave fighter’s got?” he spat into your ear, making your hair stand. “weak words? you claimed you were of a higher skill — am i going to be the one to prove you wrong?"

you couldn’t concentrate. you couldn’t. there was no way. it would’ve been useless to even try. your let your neck relax as his lips found the length of the side of your jaw, kissing and nibbling at the clammy skin. he found your pulse point — thumpthumpthumpthumpthump — and sucked the blood from the source, and to the surface. you couldn’t see, but you felt the blood rise to the top of the skin and settle. your blood, your veins, your fucking heart was pounding as it rested at his mercy. his. him. davos. he controlled every part of you — including where your blood moved, pooled, and clotted — and you didn’t know how to feel about it. you were swimming in his embrace, holding onto him for dear fucking life.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried.

“that’s right, my sweet,” he spoke. groaning in your ear, “that’s it. show me. show me how much you hate me. i want that knife to almost cut me when you cum. i want to see the look of hatred in your eyes when you make a mess on my fucking sword hand.”

you couldn’t stop it.

you couldn’t.

it was useless. pathetic. worthless.

your head fell against his strong, broad shoulder and you felt every part of your being lose control. every single one of your muscles tightened. your grip on the hilt on the knife tightened and the grip on his leathers tightened. everything was so fucking tight you didn’t know how the strings inside of you that were wound so tight didn’t fucking snap. it should’ve snapped. it should’ve snapped like the light behind your eyes, blinding white being the only thing you could see. you thought you could hear your own cries, his grunts — but you weren’t sure. your were lost, floating in your own release while his fingers didn’t relent against you.

“so-so sensitive,” you choked out, vision still hazy.

“you think i’m done with you?” he spoke. your strength was beginning to waver, as was your knife from his throat. you could feel the exact moment he realized it. “can’t even keep a knife to my throat at your most vulnerable? how do you expect to fair, yeah? in battle? — shall i get you a needle and thread instead, my lady?"

something inside of you snapped inside you for a second time that night — but this time it was anger. your gaze, aflame, caught his. how dare he? how fucking dare he? with a snarl, you spat, “unlace your fucking leathers, blackwood.”

fire also danced within his irises as the corners of his mouth raised once again. for the first time that evening, you had me davos' fight as an equal match.

you would not back down.

his fingers left your dripping cunt, and he began working at his strings. you struggled to catch your breath as you came down from your high, forcing yourself to regain composure. and, yet — there was davos. smirking. confidently. not fearing the knife at his throat, nor fearing the girl who held it, nor that she was now his match.

his tore his eyes away from you to spit on his hand, coating his long member. though angry, you couldn’t help but grow hungry at the sight of his red, leaking tip. there was no desperation on his face, but davos blackwood had control over his expression. his demeanor. his emotions. but his cock? red and neglected? there was no control. it plunged into your sopping wet cunt, buried in you until the hilt.

your cunt blossomed around him. you felt your walls blossom for the man on top of you. your womb, warm and welcoming, wanted to suck him in and never let him leave. you had never known pleasure like this, wanting even the most frustrating of men to give it to you.

you threw the knife on the ground.

you pressed your flat palm to his throat, curling around it. your squeezed the sides of his throat. your teeth were bared once more, fighting for dominance against the predator before you.

davos smiled, diminishing your resolve.

“there she is,” he spat, smirk wide with his teeth on display. “there’s my fighter.”

"fuck you," you replied.

"good," he responded, before sliding his length inside of you.

that was the thing with davos — showing vulnerability like succumbing to pleasure made you feel weak, whereas davos never felt weak. even in a vulnerable state such as this — this, joining bodies as one, each thrusting their hips against the other seeking to reach their own peak, while also relishing in the fact that you were helping the other reach theirs. his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, deliciously painful and bittersweet. even in his most vulnerable state, davos radiated power. there was dominance in his state of weakness and pleasure that was asserted over you, and you had no choice to bow — no choice but to give in.

“you missed me so bad, didn’t you?”

there you were — a light sheen of sweat on your skin glistening with the dim light of the lantern as you thrusted your hips to meet his. there was one firm hand of his, pressing down on your stomach. every time he could feel the thrust of his own cock through the soft skin of your stomach, you witnessed a flash of mischief in his dark irises. a groan collected in the back of davos' throat — building, building, and building until it came out in a growl. carnal. animalistic. untamed, and all yours. you couldn't help but moan at the sound, sending a gush of pleasure swirling around his cock. he glanced up at you, smile being illuminated by the lantern.

“that’s it, my sweet — whine for me.”

and you did. oh fuck, you did. it was all you could do besides let your muscles go taut at the idea of losing all control to the pleasure of the tip of his cock hitting that space behind your clit deep inside you. once more. that's all you needed. once more. one more peak. your pride would understand — you could not feel shame with the feeling of pleasure so electrifying. every crook of your body was hot and clammy — but you didn’t care. you couldn’t care, and neither could he.

“you just want to cum, don’t you?” he asked. “i know you do, yes? — answer me.”

he slapped your your sensitive clit. it sent sparks up and down your nerve endings, making you squeal and jump. you glanced up at him, and immediately connected your gaze with his dark one. his eyes tested you — your pride, your shame, and your being. however, the want and need in your hips was stronger than you — but that didn't matter. that was the strength and fight davos' wanted, and he would lose to.

“i do,” you whimpered, folding your bottom lip into your mouth. your eyes, like a doe’s, pleaded with him through your thick lashes. you thought you saw a flash of pride on his face, but you couldn’t tell. “fuck, youfuckingbastard — please, davos, just a little longer… ‘m so close.”

“ohhh — that right, my lady? yeah?” his gaze was heavy — dark, tired, but fueled by lust. his throat was worn and scratchy, and the thickness of his voice mirrored it. “showing that fight you promised me, yeah? just like i asked? so beautiful and fucking strong —”

"fuck..." you sobbed. your womb was blooming once more, sucking him in farther and farther into you. he welcomed the pull from your warm, wet, and gummy walls — for you had no strength to push him from you, and neither did he.

"shall i spill my seed into you, my sweet?" he asked, chuckling darkly. he cock continued to pound into your throbbing cunt until you could only think davos, davos, davos. your grip on his throat grew tighter — but not because of your anger, but because you could only cling onto something to hold you present. "shall we create the bravest, most dangerous fighter there has ever been?"

his words were beginning to slur together, like ears underwater. your brain was swimming, being pushed and pulled through saltwater waves that wove ropes around your lungs and hips.

"if you dare..." you whined, failing at sounding brave.

"i would dare," he immediately spat, plunging his cock in once more.

your grip on his throat tightened as he spanked your clit once more, sending you spinning. your thighs locked around him, pulling you into your core and trapping him there. it only enraged him — energized him. it was the final fire that spread throughout him to snap his hips once, twice, thrice more into you and spill himself inside you. your peak made you cling to your lover in the lamp light — holding onto him as you both fell forward into each other, clinging to each other.

you had fallen onto his shoulder, seeking rest. his cheek was pressed against the side of your face. his lips pressed a warm, wet kiss on your cheek — and then another onto the love bite he left on your skin. you felt his tongue poke through his soft lips and lick the bruised skin, sealing his mark in. with his dark gruff voice, davos stated, "that is how you best a man, my lady."

"fuck you."

----

so what do we think? love u guys xoxoox - L

[wonyowonyo]

Tales of Arcana (Y. "Karina" Jimin X M! Reader)

Alas! The much awaited Karina oneshot is finally here. I actually was wrong when I stated earlier that I was finished with the story, since I had to do many last minute revisions that my back hurts like a bitch rn. I actually tried new things in this fic, such as using your perspective instead of the usual 3rd Person stuff. This is also my first time writing a fantasy-themed oneshot! So I'm apologizing in advance if it may seem like a mess, as I tried my best to finish this as a whole before I take my awaited rest. And this is also my longest work right now, reaching 7.5k! I never knew I could write that much lmao. Anyways, enough with the yapping and let's actually get into this one! Hope yall enjoy this one and I'll catch yall next time, wonyowonyo out!

New Arcadia is a city of contrasts, where magic and technology intertwine in a delicate dance. The neon lights of the skyscrapers illuminate the streets below, casting eerie glows on the cobblestones and alleyways. Magic is everywhere—in the air you breathe, the water you drink, and the very fabric of reality itself.

You, Y/N, are a Disenchanter, a specialist in nullifying magical artifacts and spells. Once, you had a promising career at the Arcane Institute, a prestigious institution dedicated to the study and control of magic. But an experiment and an incident gone wrong five years ago changed everything. Branded a pariah and a traitor, you were banished and forced fled into the underbelly of the city, where you now work at 'The Gloom,' a bar that caters to New Arcadia's magical misfits and outcasts.

The Gloom is a haven for those who live on the fringes of society. The patrons are a mix of spell-slingers, rogue alchemists, and enchanted creatures, each more bizarre than the last. Your boss, Grimgar, is a grumpy old troll who treats you like just another cog in his crumbling empire. Your coworkers are a motley crew of fae and shapeshifters who come and go like the wind.

Tonight is like any other. The bar is packed with its usual clientele, and you're busy mixing potion-infused cocktails behind the bar. As you work, you notice a familiar figure enter the bar. It's Karina, a former colleague from the Arcane Institute. Her eyes meet yours, and a flicker of recognition crosses her face.

"Y/N! You're here? I thought you were... well, vanished into the ether."

Your heart skips a beat. You quickly make your way over to her, grabbing her arm and dragging her outside before she can say more. As you leave, you hear her tell her companions she'll be back soon, claiming, "My old friend wants a private chat. Who am I to refuse?" Their laughter echoes as you exit out the back door into a dimly lit alley.

————————————————————

Once in the alley, you release Karina and hiss, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Karina's eyes glint in the dim light. "I didn't even know you were still around. Rumor was that you angered the Elder Council, and they put a curse on you. Every bounty hunter in the city was after you."

You shove her away. "That's right. I had no place to hide, so I fled to this corner of New Arcadia to lay low... What was supposed to be temporary became five years."

Karina smirks. "Actually, I'm working on a big heist. There's a relic in the heart of the city, guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights. My team isn't up to the task, but you... you could nullify the defences."

You shake your head, turning away. "Not a chance. That life is over. I have a new one now."

As you start to return to the bar, you hear the distinct click of a magical ward activating. Karina's voice is cold. "You know, Y/N, there's still a bounty on your head, and I'm willing to collect."

You freeze, realizing the trap you're in. You turn slowly to face her, your mind racing. "What's your game, Karina?"

Karina steps closer, her expression softening slightly. "I don't want to turn you in, Y/N. I need your help. This heist is important. It's not just about the relic—there's more at stake than you know."

You narrow your eyes. "And why should I trust you?"

Karina sighs. "Because we were friends once. Because I know you, and I believe you're the only one who can pull this off. And because if you don't help me, the consequences will be far worse than anything the bounty hunters could do to you."

Reluctantly, you agree to hear Karina out. She leads you to a hidden safehouse in the depths of New Arcadia, where her team is waiting. The team is a ragtag group of specialists, each with their own unique skills.

Karina lays out the plan. The relic they're after is an ancient artifact known as the Heart of Thalos, hidden deep within a fortified vault in the heart of the city. The vault is guarded by a dragon and a squad of enchanted knights, and protected by powerful magical wards. Your role is crucial—you'll need to nullify the wards and the dragon's defences to give the team a fighting chance.

The plan is risky, but you can't deny the thrill of the challenge. It's been years since you've done anything like this, and part of you misses the excitement. As you listen to Karina's detailed strategy, you begin to see the pieces falling into place.

However, you're still hesitant. The life of a Disenchanter isn't what you want anymore. You've built a new life, a quieter one, away from the chaos of magic and danger. Just as you're about to decline, a commotion erupts outside the safehouse. A group of bounty hunters has tracked you down, having followed Karina's trail.

————————————————————

The bounty hunters storm the safehouse, weapons drawn and spells at the ready. Karina's team springs into action, defending their hideout with everything they've got. You find yourself in the thick of it, your Disenchanter skills becoming the key to survival.

As spells fly and blades clash, you focus on nullifying the attackers' magic. With each gesture, you dispel their enchantments, turning the tide in your favor. Giselle's brute strength keeps the enemies at bay, while Winter's agility and Ninging's illusions create confusion and chaos among the bounty hunters.

Karina fights alongside you, her combat prowess just as sharp as you remember. Together, you push back the attackers, slowly gaining the upper hand. The battle is fierce, but eventually, the last bounty hunter falls, their spells fizzling out as they collapse.

In the aftermath of the fight, you realize the gravity of the situation. The bounty on your head isn't going away, and neither is the danger that comes with it. You look at Karina, who is nursing a minor wound from the battle.

"Fine," you say, breathing heavily. "I'll help you with the heist. But this doesn't mean I'm back for good."

Karina nods, a relieved smile spreading across her face. "That's all I ask, Y/N. Just this one job. After that, you can decide what you want to do."

Over the next few days, as you prepare for the heist, you find yourself growing closer to Karina again. The shared danger and old camaraderie bring back memories of your time at the Arcane Institute. You catch her smiling at you more often, and you can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about the heist.

One evening, as you're fine-tuning the final details of the plan, Karina pulls you aside. "Y/N, I've been thinking... After this heist, maybe we could—"

Before she can finish, Winter interrupts with an urgent update on the vault's security changes. You share a knowing look with Karina, silently agreeing to revisit the conversation later.

————————————————————

The night of the heist arrives. The team assembles at the edge of the city, ready to embark on the mission. You feel a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you don your gear and prepare to face the dangers ahead.

Karina leads the way, her confidence and determination infectious. You follow her through the winding streets and alleys, moving silently and swiftly. The closer you get to the vault, the tighter the security becomes. You use your Disenchanter skills to disable the magical wards and traps, clearing the path for the team.

Finally, you reach the vault. The dragon is a formidable guardian, its scales glinting in the dim light. The enchanted knights stand ready, their weapons poised to strike. This is the moment of truth.

With a deep breath, you step forward, focusing your energy on the dragon and the knights. Your powers surge, nullifying their enchantments and rendering them vulnerable. The team moves in, engaging the dragon and the knights in a fierce battle.

As the dragon falls and the last knight is defeated, Karina makes her way to the vault door. She uses a combination of spells and lockpicking skills to unlock the door, revealing the Heart of Thalos—a glowing, pulsating artifact of immense power.

Karina carefully retrieves the Heart, her eyes shining with triumph. "We did it," she says, turning to you with a smile.

But before you can celebrate, the ground beneath you shakes. The vault begins to collapse, triggered by the removal of the Heart. The team scrambles to escape, racing against time as the structure crumbles around you.

You and the team make a mad dash for the exit, dodging falling debris and collapsing walls. Your heart pounds in your chest as you push yourself to the limit, using every ounce of your strength and agility to stay ahead of the destruction.

As you reach the exit, a massive piece of rubble falls towards you. Karina shouts your name, her voice filled with fear. In that split second, you realize just how much she means to you. You throw yourself out of the way, narrowly avoiding the falling debris.

Outside the vault, you collapse to the ground, panting and exhausted. The team is safe, but the Heart of Thalos is gone, buried beneath the rubble. Karina kneels beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

You nod, struggling to catch your breath. "Yeah, just... barely made it."

Karina helps you to your feet, her grip steady and reassuring. "Thank you, Y/N. We couldn't have done this without you."

————————————————————

In the aftermath of the heist, you and the team return to the safehouse. The Heart of Thalos is secured, and the danger has passed. As the team celebrates their success, you find yourself alone with Karina.

She takes your hand, her touch gentle but firm. "Y/N, I need to tell you something."

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding. "What is it, Karina?"

She takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "I've missed you. These past five years, I've thought about you every day. Seeing you again, working with you... it's made me realize that I still care about you. A lot."

You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that you've longed for. "Karina, I..."

She steps closer, her voice soft but earnest. "I know you said this was just one job, but... what if it wasn't? What if we did this together, for real? It's complicated, and I know we've both changed. But I want to see where this goes. If you're willing."

You turn to her, your heart pounding. "You mean, like old times?"

Karina nods, her eyes hopeful. "Yeah. Like old times. But better. We can make a difference, Y/N. We can use our skills to protect the city, to fight for those who can't fight for themselves."

You take a deep breath, considering her words. The life of a Disenchanter is dangerous and unpredictable, but it's also where you belong.

You look into her eyes, seeing the hope and vulnerability there. In that moment, you realize that despite everything, you still care deeply for her too. The heist has reminded you of the thrill of adventure, but more importantly, it's shown you that there's still a place for love in your life.

With a smile, you squeeze her hand. "I'm willing, Karina. Let's see where this goes."

She smiles back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Thank you, Y/N."

————————————————————

The day after the heist, you and Karina wake up in the safehouse, the morning light filtering through the cracks in the boarded-up windows. The team is still asleep, exhausted from the previous night's escapades. You feel a mixture of relief and anticipation as you think about the Heart of Thalos, now securely hidden in a magical vault beneath the safehouse.

Karina stirs beside you, her eyes fluttering open. She smiles, her face soft and relaxed. "Morning, Y/N."

"Morning," you reply, your heart warming at the sight of her.

Before you can say more, Giselle enters the room, her booming voice shattering the peaceful moment. "We've got a problem."

You and Karina jump to your feet, following Giselle to the main room where the rest of the team is gathering. Winter and Ningning look tense, their eyes darting to the entrance.

"What's going on?" you ask.

Winter holds up a small, enchanted device. "This was found outside the safehouse. It's a tracker. Someone knows we're here."

Your blood runs cold. The bounty hunters must have planted it during the siege. Karina's face hardens with determination. "We need to move. Now."

You and the team quickly gather your belongings, preparing to leave the safehouse. As you step outside, you hear the distant sound of engines revving. A squadron of bounty hunters on motorcycles is speeding towards you, their eyes gleaming with greed.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Giselle roars, her enchanted strength crackling with energy.

You hesitate, but Karina pulls you along. "We need you, Y/N. Giselle  can handle them."

Reluctantly, you follow Karina and the team through the winding alleys of New Arcadia. The bounty hunters are relentless, their engines echoing through the narrow streets. You and the team split up, hoping to confuse your pursuers.

As you run, you use your Disenchanter skills to nullify the magical trackers the bounty hunters are using. The air is thick with tension, every corner potentially hiding an ambush.

Finally, you reach an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The team regroups, panting and exhausted. Giselle  arrives last, battered but victorious. "We need to lay low for a while," he says, his voice grim.

Inside the warehouse, you and Karina find a quiet corner. The adrenaline from the chase slowly fades, leaving you both feeling drained. Karina leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder.

"Y/N, I was so scared we'd get separated again," she whispers.

You wrap your arm around her, pulling her close. "I won't let that happen. Not again."

She looks up at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "I don't want to lose you, Y/N. Not after we've found each other again."

You tilt her chin up, your lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment. When you finally pull back, you smile at her. "We'll face whatever comes together."

The team gathers in the center of the warehouse, discussing their next move. The Heart of Thalos needs to be kept safe, and the bounty hunters won't stop until they have it.

"We need to take the fight to them," Karina suggests, her eyes blazing with determination. "If we can find their leader and take him down, we can buy ourselves some time."

You nod, agreeing with her plan. "And I can use my Disenchanter skills to disrupt their operations. We need to hit them where it hurts."

Winter, Giselle , and Ningning agree, their resolve matching yours. Together, you formulate a strategy to infiltrate the bounty hunters' headquarters, a fortified building in the heart of New Arcadia.

————————————————————

Under the cover of night, you and the team make your way to the bounty hunters' headquarters. The building is heavily guarded, its perimeter bristling with magical wards and security measures. You take a deep breath, focusing your energy on nullifying the enchantments.

Karina leads the way, her nimble fingers deftly disabling the locks and traps. Winter and Giselle follow, their movements silent and precise. Ningning uses her illusion magic to create distractions, drawing the guards' attention away from your group.

Inside, the headquarters is a maze of corridors and rooms. You move cautiously, avoiding patrols and security cameras. Finally, you reach the central chamber where the bounty hunters' leader, a ruthless mage named Vesper, is holding court.

————————————————————

Vesper is a formidable opponent, his presence commanding and intimidating. He stands surrounded by his elite guards, his eyes narrowing as he spots your group.

"Well, well, well," he sneers. "The infamous Disenchanter and his ragtag team. You've caused me quite a bit of trouble."

You step forward, your voice steady. "It's over, Vesper. We're taking you down."

Vesper laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "You think you can stop me? With the council’s support, I’ll be more powerful than ever! You're all nothing but a thorn in my side."

The group was surprised with the sudden mention of the council. It seems that the figureheads of the city wasn’t as clean as they present themselves.

Karina eyes flash with anger. "We're more than that. We're here to end your reign of terror."

The battle erupts, a whirlwind of magic and steel. Vesper's guards are skilled, but your team fights with a fierce determination. You focus on nullifying Vesper's spells, creating openings for Giselle and Winter to strike.

Karina and Ningning work together, their combined magic creating powerful attacks that push Vesper back. The room crackles with energy as spells clash and swords meet.

Finally, with a powerful surge of your Disenchanter energy, you break through Vesper's defences. Giselle and Winter seize the opportunity, their combined strength overwhelming him. Vesper falls, his body crumpling to the ground.

With Vesper's defeat, the bounty hunters' organization crumbles. The team breathes a collective sigh of relief, the tension finally easing. You and Karina share a triumphant smile, the weight of the past few days lifting from your shoulders.

As you leave the headquarters, the dawn breaks over New Arcadia, the city bathed in a golden light. You feel a sense of hope and renewal, knowing that you've made a difference.

————————————————————

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of activity. Karina introduces you to her network of allies and informants, each with their own unique skills and connections. Together, you form a new team, dedicated to protecting New Arcadia from the hidden threats that lurk in the shadows.

Your days are filled with intense training sessions, honing your Disenchanter abilities and learning new techniques from your teammates. You work closely with Karina, who teaches you advanced combat tactics and spellcasting methods. The bond between you grows stronger with each passing day, rekindling the friendship and trust you once shared.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling training session, you and Karina find yourselves alone in the training room. Sweat drips from your brows as you catch your breath, the air heavy with the scent of exertion and magic.

Karina grins, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You're getting better, Y/N. I can barely keep up with you now."

You smile back, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "Thanks, Karina. I couldn't have done it without you."

She steps closer, her expression serious. "There's something I need to tell you. The Heart of Thalos... it's more than just a powerful artifact. It holds the key to a greater mystery, one that could change everything we know about magic."

Your curiosity piqued, you listen intently as Karina explains. "According to legend, the Heart is connected to an ancient source of magic known as the Nexus. If we can find the Nexus, we might be able to harness its power and protect New Arcadia from any threat."

The weight of her words sinks in. This mission is far more significant than you initially realized. The stakes are higher, and the risks greater, but the potential reward is too important to ignore.

"I'm with you, Karina," you say firmly. "We'll find the Nexus and unlock its secrets."

————————————————————

The quest for the Nexus takes you and your team to the far corners of New Arcadia. You follow leads and decipher cryptic clues, piecing together the puzzle one step at a time. The journey is fraught with danger, as powerful enemies seek to stop you at every turn.

One night, you find yourself deep within the city's ancient catacombs, searching for a hidden chamber said to contain vital information about the Nexus. The air is damp and musty, the only light coming from the faint glow of enchanted torches.

As you navigate the labyrinthine tunnels, you hear the faint sound of footsteps echoing behind you. You signal to the team to halt, your senses on high alert.

Winter, ever the keen observer, whispers, "We're being followed."

Karina nods, her eyes narrowing. "Prepare for an ambush. Stay sharp, everyone."

Moments later, a group of shadowy figures emerges from the darkness, their eyes glinting with malevolent intent. You recognize them as members of a notorious organisation, known for their ruthless pursuit of magical power.

The leader of the organisation, a tall figure shrouded in dark robes, steps forward. "You've meddled in matters beyond your understanding, Disenchanter. The Nexus is ours."

Without warning, the enemies attack. Spells crackle through the air, and weapons clash in a flurry of violence. You and your team fight with everything you've got, the confined space of the catacombs amplifying the intensity of the battle.

Karina unleashes a torrent of fireballs, her movements fluid and precise. Giselle wades into the fray, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower multiple foes at once. Winter darts between enemies, her daggers flashing in the dim light. Ninging conjures illusions to confuse and disorient the cultists, creating openings for the team to strike.

You focus on nullifying the cultists' spells, disrupting their magical attacks and turning the tide in your favor. The battle is fierce, but your training and teamwork prevail. One by one, the cultists fall, until only their leader remains.

Desperation flickers in the cult leader's eyes as he realizes he's outmatched. With a snarl, he raises his staff, channelling a powerful spell aimed directly at you. You react instinctively, raising your hand and nullifying the spell just before it reaches you.

The cult leader's eyes widen in shock, and he stumbles backward. "No... this can't be..."

Karina steps forward before she knocks the leader out cold. The group managed to hold captive a disarmed member of the organization. Karina points her sword at the man, her voice cold and commanding. "Tell us everything, What is your purpose and what you know about the Nexus, or you'll wish you hadn't crossed us."

The member, now disarmed and defeated, reluctantly reveals what he knows. “We’re a shadow organization for The Council, tasked to find the Nexus. The Nexus is a source of unimaginable power, hidden deep beneath the city. Only the Heart of Thalos can unlock its true potential. The Council plans to use the nexus as leverage to gain more power and to expand their control over the nation."

You exchange a glance with Karina, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. The cult leader's information confirms your suspicions and provides a crucial lead.

With the cultists neutralized, you and your team press on, following the clues deeper into the catacombs. After hours of searching, you finally discover the hidden chamber. The walls are covered in ancient runes and symbols, glowing with a faint, otherworldly light.

In the center of the chamber stands an ornate pedestal, upon which rests a stone tablet. The tablet is inscribed with a detailed map, marking the location of the Nexus.

Karina carefully examines the tablet, her eyes scanning the intricate markings. "This is it, Y/N. The Nexus is real, and we've found the key to its location."

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The journey is far from over, but you've made significant progress. The map points to a secluded area in the heart of the city, a place known as the Veiled Sanctum.

————————————————————

The Veiled Sanctum is a place of legend, shrouded in mystery and protected by powerful wards. As you approach the sanctum, you feel the air hum with latent magic. The entrance is hidden behind a waterfall, accessible only by solving a series of complex puzzles.

Working together, you and your team navigate the challenges, using your combined knowledge and skills to unlock the sanctum's secrets. Each puzzle is more intricate than the last, but you press on, determined to reach the Nexus.

Finally, you stand before the entrance to the sanctum, a massive stone door adorned with ancient glyphs. Karina places the Heart of Thalos into a recessed slot in the door, and with a deep rumble, the door begins to open.

Inside, the sanctum is a breathtaking sight. The walls are lined with glowing crystals, casting a soft, ethereal light. In the center of the room stands a grand altar, upon which rests the Nexus—a swirling vortex of raw, untamed magic.

As you approach the altar, you feel a surge of power, unlike anything you've ever experienced. The Nexus pulses with energy, its potential both awe-inspiring and terrifying.

Karina steps forward, her voice reverent. "This is it, Y/N. The source of all magic in New Arcadia. With the Nexus, we can protect the city from any threat."

Before you can respond, a powerful force slams into you, knocking you to the ground. You look up to see the cult leader, now imbued with dark magic, standing at the entrance to the sanctum.

"You fools," he snarls. "You think you can control the Nexus? It belongs to us!"

The final battle begins with a thunderous clash of magic and steel. The leader, empowered by the dark magic, is a formidable opponent. His attacks are relentless, and his spells crackle with malevolent energy.

You and your team fight with everything you have, determined to protect the Nexus and stop the cult leader. Karina unleashes her most powerful spells, while Giselle, Winter, and Ninging work together to keep the cult leader off balance.

The sanctum shakes with the intensity of the battle, crystals shattering and debris falling from the ceiling. You focus on nullifying the cult leader's dark magic, countering his spells and weakening his defences.

As the battle reaches its climax, the cult leader summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the cult leader's attack. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

When the light fades, you find yourself standing victorious. The cult leader lies defeated, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The Nexus pulses with a calming, soothing energy, its power now under your control.

Karina steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "We did it, Y/N. The Nexus is safe, and New Arcadia is protected for now."

You look at her, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and pride. "We couldn't have done it without you, Karina. We're a team."

Karina then stared at the horizon. “However, we still have more battles coming our way.”

In the heart of the Elder Council’s command chamber, tension hung thick in the air, charged with failure. The Elder of the Council, a tall figure draped in dark robes, slammed his gnarled fist against the ornate wooden table, sending inkpots and scrolls flying. His face was contorted with rage, the flickering candlelight revealing the deep lines of frustration etched into his skin.

"You incompetent fools!" he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. Council members flinched, shifting uneasily in their seats as they awaited his next outburst. "The Nexus was ours for the taking, and yet you let it slip through your fingers! How could you let this happen?"

One advisor, shaking like a leaf, took a cautious step forward. "Elder, the shadow organization reported that their plans were compromised during the heist. They encountered unexpected resistance—"

The Elder cut him off, his patience evaporating. "Resistance? Is that all you have to offer? What good are your shadows if they cannot perform a simple task? We had everything arranged!"

The room fell silent, tension mounting. The Elder’s fury radiated like heat from a forge, and the air seemed to crackle with his barely-contained wrath. He paced like a caged beast, his mind racing with thoughts of retribution.

Finally, he turned sharply, pinning the advisor with a steely glare. "And who was responsible for this fiasco?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Reports indicate it was Y/N L/N," the advisor said, voice trembling. "They orchestrated the heist of the Heart of Thalos and led the resistance that thwarted our plans."

At the mention of your name, the Elder's fury ignited anew. "Y/N L/N! The banished pariah returns to haunt me?" He slammed his fist down again, this time hard enough to crack the table's surface. "After all these years, they dare to defy the Council? They will pay dearly for this!"

His breath quickened, a storm brewing in his chest. Memories of your betrayal flooded back, intertwining with the present chaos. You had once been one of his brightest students, but now you stood as a symbol of everything he despised—defiance, rebellion, and the power of unity.

"You think you can simply waltz back into my domain, Y/N L/N? You will regret ever crossing me!" The Elder's eyes gleamed with a mix of anger and determination, his mind already plotting revenge. "Prepare the enforcers. Mobilize every resource we have. Y/N L/N and their little band of rebels will be crushed beneath my heel."

As he raged, the advisors exchanged anxious glances, knowing full well the consequences of angering the Elder. "We will not let them gain any more power," one advisor stammered, trying to placate him. "We will gather forces and track them down."

"See that you do!" The Elder snapped, his voice a thunderous declaration. "For every moment they breathe free air, they mock our authority. This ends now." His voice simmered with menace, sealing the fate of New Arcadia in his vengeful hands.

——————��—————————————

The next morning, as you and Karina are planning your next steps, a messenger arrives at the safehouse. He hands you a sealed letter bearing the mark of the Elder Council. You break the seal and read the letter, your heart sinking with each word.

The Council has learned of your involvement in the heist and demands your immediate surrender. They threaten to unleash their full force against you and anyone who harbors you if you do not comply. The bounty on your head has doubled, and they are now actively mobilizing their forces to hunt you down.

Karina reads the letter over your shoulder, her expression hardening. "We can't let them do this, Y/N. We need to find a way to fight back."

You nod, feeling a mix of fear and determination. "But how? The Council is too powerful. We don't stand a chance against them."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her eyes filled with resolve. "We need allies. There are others in New Arcadia who oppose the Council's tyranny. If we can unite them, we might have a chance."

————————————————————

Over the next few days, you and Karina reach out to old friends and contacts, seeking allies in your fight against the Council. You find support among the city's disenfranchised, those who have suffered under the Council's oppressive rule.

One by one, you gather a diverse group of rebels, each with their own reasons for joining the cause. Few notable members also decided to join the cause. There's Irene, a former Council enforcer turned rogue; Key, a tech-savvy hacker with a grudge against the establishment; Wendy, a wind mage with a deep connection to the city's underground networks; Winter, a nimble thief who can slip through the tightest of spaces; Giselle, a warrior with enchanted strength; and Ningning, a spellcaster with a talent for illusion magic.

One night, you hold a clandestine meeting in a hidden underground chamber. The air is filled with tension and excitement as the gathered rebels discuss their grievances and share their hopes for a better future.

Irene speaks up, her voice steady and resolute. "The Council has ruled with an iron fist for too long. They've crushed anyone who dared to oppose them. It's time we stand together and fight back."

Key nods in agreement, his eyes flashing with determination. "We have the skills and the numbers. We can disrupt their communications, hack their systems, and turn their own technology against them."

Wendy adds, her voice filled with a quiet strength, "And I'll ensure we move swiftly and unseen through the city. The Council won't know what hit them."

Giselle, her muscles rippling with enchanted strength, clenches her fist. "Let them come. I'll take them all on."

Winter, slipping a dagger into her belt, grins. "And I'll make sure we get in and out without a trace."

Ningning conjures an illusion of the Council's command center, the room flickering with magical light. "I'll create distractions and keep them guessing. They won't know what's real and what's not."

Suddenly, the ground trembles as a group of Council enforcers burst into the chamber, having tracked your location. A fierce battle erupts, your newly formed resistance group immediately put to the test.

Irene moves with deadly precision, her training as a former enforcer evident in her swift, lethal strikes. She disarms an enemy and uses their weapon against them in a fluid motion. "We can’t let them break us now!" she shouts over the chaos.

Key and Wendy work in tandem, the hacker disrupting the enforcers’ communications while the wind mage creates a barrier of swirling air to deflect incoming attacks. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" Key yells, fingers flying over his portable console.

Giselle charges forward, her enchanted strength allowing her to take on multiple enforcers at once. She lifts a heavy piece of debris and hurls it at the enemies, scattering them like bowling pins. "Is that all you've got?" she taunts, her voice ringing with confidence.

Winter darts through the fray, using her nimbleness to slip past the enforcers' defences. She appears behind them, striking with precision before vanishing into the shadows again. "Over here!" she calls, drawing their attention and leading them into traps.

Ningning weaves illusions that confuse and misdirect the enforcers, causing them to strike at phantoms and shadows. "This way, no, that way!" she giggles, enjoying the chaos she creates.

Karina, her eyes blazing with magical energy, unleashes a torrent of fire to keep the enforcers at bay. You join her, using your Disenchanter skills to neutralize their magical wards and weapons. Together, you form an impenetrable defence.

The battle is intense, the small chamber echoing with the sounds of clashing steel and explosive magic. Despite the surprise attack, your group fights with a fierce determination, each member holding their ground. One by one, the enforcers fall, and the chamber falls silent once more.

As the dust settles, you look around at your allies, their expressions a mix of relief and determination. "This was just a taste of what’s to come," you say, your voice steady. "We need to be ready for anything."

————————————————————

The night of the assault arrives. The resistance moves through the city in small, coordinated groups, avoiding detection as they make their way to the Council's command center. The air is thick with tension and anticipation.

You and Karina lead the main strike team, your hearts pounding as you approach the heavily fortified building. Using your Disenchanter skills, you disable the magical wards protecting the entrance, allowing the team to breach the outer defences.

Inside, a fierce battle erupts. The Council's guards and enforcers are well-trained and heavily armed, but the members of the resistance fight with a fierce determination born of desperation and hope. Spells and bullets fly, the clash of steel and the roar of magic filling the air.

Irene charges ahead, her combat skills unmatched as she takes down guard after guard. "We need to push forward!" she yells, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Key, tapping into the building’s security system, manages to turn some of the automated defences against the Council’s own forces. "Watch your backs, I'm rerouting the turrets!" he shouts, as the sound of automated gunfire joins the fray.

Wendy uses her control over the wind to disorient the guards, creating gusts that knock them off balance and leave them vulnerable. "Focus on the weak points!" she calls out, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges through the enemy lines, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower the guards with ease. She lifts a massive steel door, using it as a shield to block incoming fire. "Keep moving! I'll cover you!" she shouts.

Winter slips through the chaos, using her agility to navigate the tight spaces and flank the guards. She appears behind them, taking them out silently and efficiently. "We're almost there!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the tumult.

Ningning creates illusions that bewilder and distract the guards, making them strike at empty air or turn on each other. "Just a little more confusion," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

Karina, her magic blazing brighter than ever, fights by your side. Together, you make your way through the building, each step bringing you closer to the control room. You nullify the guards’ magical attacks while Karina counters with her own, creating a devastating combination.

The battle rages on, the corridors of the command center echoing with the sounds of conflict. Despite the overwhelming odds, your group fights with relentless determination, inching closer to your goal with every passing moment.

————————————————————

The final battle reaches its peak in the control room. The remaining Council leaders unleash their most powerful spells and weapons, determined to crush the rebellion once and for all.

You and Karina fight side by side, your movements perfectly synchronized. As you nullify the Council's spells, Karina counters with blasts of fire and lightning, her eyes burning with fierce determination.

Irene engages one of the leaders in a deadly dance of blades, her movements swift and precise. "You're going down!" she yells, striking with lethal accuracy.

Key, hacking into the command center's systems, disrupts their communications and disables their automated defenses. "I've got their security down! Focus on the leaders!" he calls out, sweat pouring down his face.

Wendy uses her wind magic to create a barrier, shielding the resistance from the leaders' attacks. "Hold the line!" she shouts, her voice carried by the wind.

Giselle charges at one of the leaders, her enchanted strength allowing her to overpower their defences. She grabs them and hurls them across the room, her voice a roar of defiance. "You're finished!"

Winter uses her agility to navigate the chaos, slipping through the tightest spaces to strike at the leaders from unexpected angles. "Keep them off balance!" she calls, her voice a whisper in the storm.

Ningning creates illusions that confuse and disorient the leaders, making them strike at phantoms and shadows. "They won't know what's real and what's not," she murmurs, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air.

The head of the Council, now cornered and desperate, summons a massive, swirling vortex of dark energy, aiming to destroy you all. You feel the pull of the dark magic, threatening to consume you.

But in that moment, you draw upon the power of the Nexus, channelling its raw energy to counter the dark spell. The two forces collide, creating a blinding explosion of light and dark.

Karina, sensing the moment of vulnerability, unleashes a powerful surge of magic that disrupts the vortex, causing it to collapse in on itself. "Now, Y/N! Finish it!" she yells, her voice filled with urgency.

With a surge of determination, you focus all your energy on the head of the Council, nullifying his dark magic and leaving him defenceless. Irene, Key, Wendy, Giselle, Winter, and Ningning join the final push, their combined efforts overwhelming the remaining Council members.

The head of the Council falls, his dark magic dissipating into the air. The command centre falls silent, the resistance standing victorious amid the wreckage. You and Karina share a triumphant look, knowing that the hardest part is over but that the fight for New Arcadia's future has only just begun.

————————————————————

In the aftermath of the battle, the resistance works to stabilise the city and establish a new order. You and Karina play key roles in the rebuilding efforts, using your skills and knowledge to help create a fairer, more just society.

The people of New Arcadia, inspired by your courage and determination, begin to rally around the new leadership. The city's magical misfits and outcasts find new hope and purpose, their talents and abilities finally recognized and valued.

One day, as you and Karina oversee the reconstruction of a devastated neighborhood, a young girl approaches you. Her eyes are wide with adIrenetion, and she clutches a small, hand-drawn picture of you and Karina fighting the Council.

"Thank you for saving us," she says, her voice filled with sincerity. "You're heroes."

You kneel down to her level, smiling. "We did it together. And now, it's up to all of us to make sure New Arcadia remains a place where everyone is free."

Karina places a hand on your shoulder, her expression filled with pride. "We've come a long way, Y/N. And we still have a lot of work to do. But I know we can build a better future."

————————————————————

As the city begins to heal, you and Karina take a moment to reflect on how far you’ve come. The bond between you has grown stronger, forged in the fires of battle and tempered by shared struggles and triumphs. The neon lights of New Arcadia shimmer in the distance, painting the night sky with vibrant hues.

Standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, you can hear the distant hum of life below, the mix of magic and technology creating an enchanting symphony. You turn to Karina, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights, and feel a rush of warmth.

With a soft smile, Karina gazes into your eyes, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and strength. “Y/N,” she starts, her voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, I feel like I’ve found a part of myself again. And that’s because of you.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you take a step closer, closing the distance between you. “I feel the same way, Karina. You’ve brought light back into my life when I thought it was lost forever.” The sincerity in your voice resonates in the quiet night.

She reaches up, cupping your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing your cheek. “I know we’ve faced so much uncertainty, but I want you to know that I love you, Y/N. I truly do.” Her confession hangs in the air, filled with the weight of truth.

You smile, warmth spreading through your chest. “I love you too, Karina. With all my heart.” The words come out effortlessly, a promise wrapped in passion and commitment.

With a gentle smile, you tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s next for us?” you ask, your heart racing at the thought of the future.

Karina’s eyes glimmer with excitement, and she takes a step closer, her breath mingling with the cool night air. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together. Always.” Her voice is filled with determination, but there’s also a tenderness that makes your heart swell.

You lean in, and the world around you fades away. At that moment, nothing else matters but the two of you. As your lips meet, it’s as if the city itself holds its breath. The kiss is soft at first, a gentle exploration, but it deepens, fueled by the unspoken promise of adventure and the intensity of your shared experiences.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless, the city lights reflecting in her eyes like a thousand stars. “I never thought I’d find someone like you in all this chaos,” you whisper, your forehead resting against hers.

Karina chuckles softly, her breath warm against your skin. “And I never thought I’d get a second chance to be with you.” Her fingers intertwined with yours, and you can feel the strength and comfort in her grip.

“I know there will be challenges ahead, but as long as we’re together, I’m ready to face them,” you say, your heart steady with resolve.

Karina nods, a playful smile lighting up her face. “Let’s make a pact. No matter what happens, we never lose sight of each other. Promise?”

“Promise,” you reply, sealing it with another kiss, this one filled with hope and longing. You pull back slightly, studying her face, and in that moment, you realize how lucky you are to have found love amidst the chaos.

As the night deepens, you both take a moment to savor the city’s magic—the flickering lights, the distant sounds of laughter, and the vibrant energy that surrounds you. Hand in hand, you step into the night, the world unfolding before you like a canvas waiting to be painted with your adventures.

With Karina by your side, you’re ready to embrace whatever the future holds—be it danger, excitement, or the sweet moments of peace in between. Together, you’ll write a new story, one filled with passion, courage, and endless possibilities. And as you walk towards the horizon, you know this is just the beginning of your incredible journey.

[hysteria-things]

english isn’t my first language so i probably wrote something wrong

but

can u write smut with matt or chris (i don’t care who) where it’s readers first time receiving oral

WOULDN'T MIND

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been talking to this kid from your school, and the first hang out with him will be something to remember.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, marking if you squint, titty playing lol, fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation (male)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 907

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: hello <3

being in the talking stage can be scary. on your birthday a few months ago, you got a notification on snapchat that read: chris sturniolo wants to be your friend!

you heard his name get thrown around all over school, so it wouldn’t hurt to add him back, right? what you don’t know is that this is the kid you’ll be almost dating.

the two of you lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and discussing whatever your minds think of. this is the first time you guys hung out outside of school, and you can sense that something’s there. even though your friends told you the talking stage is the most dangerous.

his head rests gently on yours, some strands of hair tickling your face. “you never had a boyfriend, right?”

you chuckle, solemnly from embarrassment, but nod. “nope. i haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

he only lets out a hum, and then it’s silent. your mind races with a million negative thoughts.

he is so going to kick you out of his house. he’s never going to want to speak with you again. he thinks you’re a loser—

“i wouldn’t mind being the first.”

eyes widening, you turn your head to see chris already looking at you. he smirks, taking his thumb and rubbing it over your bottom lip. “relax.” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss you soft and slow.

he rolls on top of you, depending the kiss before he starts running his hands under your shirt. he hesitates, but when you don’t protest, he gently cups your boobs and plays with them.

his lips travel to your neck. after a few pecks, your breath hitches, and that’s when he knows he found your sweet spot. squeezing your legs together, wetness starts to pool.

biting down, he sucks a mark carefully into your skin. a purple bruise forms as his fingers start to enter your waistband. “is this okay?”

“more than okay,” you answer out of breath.

when he gets your consent, his middle finger moves up and down on your folds, coating it with your slickness. you moan lowly, arching ever so slightly. you’re a straight-up virgin, but it’s not like you’ve never fingered yourself. alas, his fingers are much better than yours.

“m-more.” you beg. “please.”

the chuckle that leaves his throat tickles your neck. then, he takes his ring finger and circles your clit while putting the other one into your hole.

a high-pitched sound escapes your lips, mouth open with your eyes crossing. you rut your hips on his fingers, the tips of them brushing at all the right spots on your bud and walls. “f-fuck, yes.” you gasp.

the sound of arousal coating his fingers fills your ears, only making you moan louder and squeeze around him. “you like that, huh?” he whispers.

you nod frantically, moving your hips faster only for him to take his digits out. “want to feel my tongue, instead?“

a shiver runs up your spine, the softness of his lips grazing down your body as he also removes your shorts. despite it being dark and the only light in the room is his lamp, the glistening of your pussy is as clear as day.

to tease you, he licks the arousal stuck to your thighs. so close yet so far from where you want him most. you squirm, but stop once his arms wrap tightly under your knees and hold you in place.

you wince at the sudden contact with your clit, his mouth sucking on it with force. then, his tongue licks strands up your folds.

eyebrows furrowing, you pant uncontrollably. this just doesn’t feel real, but it is; and my god it feels good. his muscle goes into your sopping cunt, causing a whimper to leave your lips. “o-oh, fuck. oh-oh my god, chris.”

your hands have a mind of their own and run up your body to your tits, kneading them and toying with your nipples to get even more pleasure. he groans, the vibration having your eyes roll back.

he takes one of his hands and inserts it in your pussy along with his tongue. however, the other one finds its way into his underwear.

his palm wraps around his aching cock, pumping it quickly to the speed of the way his tongue and finger fuck you.

“don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you repeat loudly, gripping his hair harshly.

the moans that come from him don’t help with the way your orgasm starts to build. the way he’s moving at different angles inside of you has your legs shaking, squeezing tight around his head.

chris’ thumb twirls around his tip, pre-cum leaking from it as he whimpers into your pussy. your moans gradually get louder and higher, before the knot snaps and you smear your cum all over his face.

he removes himself, resting his cheek on your leg. you’re catching your breath, but he’s still groaning and whimpering while his hand moves rapidly.

nuzzling his head more into your flesh, his knees buckle together as he moans. his hot, sticky cum spurts out and makes a mess on his hand. dripping so much that it lands on the floor below.

in silence, you guys stay in the position to catch your breath. what you do know for a fact is that this wouldn’t be the first or last time you hang out with chris sturniolo.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @sturncakez

[feyascorner]

Food is not something he's indulged in since he was turned.

He must've enjoyed it once, as every other undead being he's surrounded by. But when he lifts a wine glass to his lips or sips at a broth, all he can do is scrunch his nose, disgusted by the way it tastes. The only thing that satiates him now is blood. He's gotten used to it by now.

So why in the hells he'd thought he could make you soup to soothe your aching throat, he has no idea.

Surely, it can't be terribly difficult? Just a few vegetables, broth, and a pretty bowl to put it in. It would make you feel better if you didn't have to get up and cook for yourself, and he'd get to sit by your side, teasing the way you seem to sneeze every few minutes.

Unfortunately, he's finding that he was horribly wrong.

"You can't feed them this!" Gale exclaims with a groan. "It really is a simple recipe, surely you can make this much."

Astarion glares at him, then back down at the pot of soup sitting pathetically on the stove. He sees Gale testing it one more time with a spoon and shuddering, flinching at the taste. He would taste it himself if it weren't for the fact that it would taste terrible regardless of the culinary quality, but alas, all he can do is narrow his eyes at the deceiving concoction in the pot.

The wizard sets down his testing spoon and sighs. "Look, we can try again tomorrow. We should really feed them soon, anyway."

Astarion frowns. He's killed people and defeated dozens of monsters, and he's brought down by this? A bloody soup? All while getting scolded by Gale, of all people?

He hasn't even tried the soup, but he feels a bit sick.

"Oh, did you guys already cook?"

His ears perk at the sound of your voice, and you pace into the kitchen, wrapped in one of his many blankets. His chest swells at this, but hells if he'd ever show that on his face. "You should be resting, darling."

"I will. I'm just hungry," you sniffle, reaching for the pot of soup. And before Gale can stop you, you're already pouring yourself a serving, and you slowly lift the bowl to your lips, taking a long sip while the said wizard gawks.

Astarion's eyes never leave your expression as you bring the half-empty bowl down to the counter, swiping at the excess in your mouth. You seem in thought, raising a brow before turning to Gale. "Are you experimenting with recipes?"

"It's certainly not one of my makings!" he recoils, almost offended. "I'm afraid I have to give this honor to my friend, here."

Astarion rolls his eyes, readying himself for your criticism of his cooking. He knows you wouldn't be as inelegant as Gale when speaking your concerns about the damned soup, but he thinks it might have more of an impact on him anyway, simply because it's you.

Getting his feelings hurt over a bowl of soup would certainly be a new low for him.

You stare at him for a moment in a painful silence before lifting the rest of the bowl to down the rest. Even Astarion blinks this time, watching in utter disbelief as you drink the soup like the finest wine in Faerun.

And when you set the bowl down, you shrug. "It's good."

Gale's jaw drops, but all Astarion does is stare at you with wide eyes. You yawn, trudging back to your room without another word, his blanket trailing behind your heels. He only snaps out of his trance when he hears Gale sigh obnoxiously loud at his side.

"It's your lucky day. It seems the sickness has rendered her tastebuds malfunctioning."

Despite the embarrassing way, he feels the tips of his pointed ears flush, Astarion cracks a triumphant smile.

[osachiyo]

°˖✧✿✧˖°SO HOT!°˖✧✿✧˖°

VARIOUS GENSHIN MEN X FEM!READER

➳INCLUDING! kaeya, diluc, childe, zhongli

➳CONTENT WARNINGS! grown ass men going feral over sudresses, spanking, breeding, outdoor sex, choking, impact play, nipple play, cunnilingus, fellatio, only a liiiiitle bit of assplay etc

➳SUMMARY! you wear a sundress and your man just cannot keep it in his pants

MINORS DNI OR YOU'LL BE BURNT TO A CRISP !!(like signora)

Kaeya Alberich

It was a scorching summer day in Mondstadt, meaning the absolute perfect day for you to wear that skimpy see-through sundress you had bought a while back! You bought it last summer but alas, had no chance to wear it. So you decided to wear it this year. Nothing could go wrong right? You knew your boyfriend, Kaeya, would adore it.

..Right?

Your back was arched like a cat against the wall of the cathedral as Kaeya went down on you. His left hand pinning you against the wall as his right hand lifted your leg over his shoulder. You could feel him mouthing your soaked cunt. He fucking loved your taste. You could feel his tongue flicking over your clit in fast circles as he moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice making you lean your head back with your eyes squeezed shut. Your hand found it's way over to his dark blue locks, clutching it for dear life as he groaned and shoved his face impossibly further into your dripping pussy. He flattened his tongue and ran it over your slit multiple times before spreading apart your labia with his thumbs. He spit directly on your twitching hole before slurping it all up and shoving his tongue inside. This was so embarrassing. So fucking sinful but you couldn't get enough of it.

Atleast you were right about one thing, Kaeya definitely adored the sundress on you.

Diluc Ragnvindr

You had begged Diluc to rate some of your outfits while you showcased them to him. He, of course, was a little reluctant of course but agreed nonetheless. He just couldn't help but give in to your demands. You both were currently in your shared room, giving him a tiny fashion show with all of your adorable outfits. He rated almost everything ten out of ten because come on, you look gorgeous in everything. You changed into your little sundress that you had bought and it was a little more revealing than you thought it'd be but that's alright. A little skin never hurt nobody, right?

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Diluc slammed into you repeatedly, making a mess on the carpet beneath you. You were currently bent over the bed as your husband pounded into your tight, gooey hole. He already came two times inside of you but alas, he still craved for more. Seems like seeing you in that sundress switched something in him. His fingers rubbed tight and fast circles on your clit, coaxing you into your 3rd orgasm. Or was it your 4th? You honestly couldn't remember. Diluc groaned as he saw a creamy white ring around his cock every time he pulled out, just to shove it back in.

If you had known Diluc would react like that to the sundress, you would've worn it a long time ago.

Childe

You and your boyfriend, Childe, were on a cute little picnic-date today. You packed some sandwiches and other stuff as well. You also did some light makeup and wore a cute sundress too! You were really really happy to finally spend some time with your amazing boyfriend. Yes, he was the best boyfriend you could ask for but he was quite busy due to his fatui duties. So you really looked forward today. But upon arriving at the picnic spot, you realized your boyfriend wasn't too interested into eating the sandwiches, rather much more looking forward to ravishing you.

"F-fuck, Ajax! What if someone catches us?!" You complained, looking behind your shoulder at your boyfriend, who had you bent over a tree while he kneeled behind you, too focused on your ass to care about whatever you're yapping about. He caressed the back of your thigh, laughing, "They'd be real fuckin' lucky, baby. Now spread those legs a bit more, yeah?" You grumbled angrily but complied nonetheless, spreading your legs more. He flips your skirt up as he felt his mouth water upon seeing the damp spot on your lacy panties. He curled his finger around the waistband pulled it back, before letting it snap against your waist, making you jolt at the slight pain. He suddenly buried his face between your legs, his nose bumping against your ass. Ajax pushed your panties to the side before licking a long stripe from your clit to your twitching hole, making you shiver in pleasure. He smirked then landed a harsh slap against your right asscheek, making you cry out curses at him. He only laughed in response as he landed another slap on your other cheek. He spread your cheeks apart and blew on your twitching hole. You whispered in anticipation. He then plunged his tongue into your hole, while gripping your ass. You moaned in appreciation as you gripped the tree harder. Ajax slurped at your pussy like he had been deprived of water for days. Then suddenly, you felt his finger prodding at your other hole before slipping right in, making you arch your back and push yourself more into his face.

God he loved eating you out from the back.

Zhongli

It was the hottest day you've encountered in Liyue so far. What better time than now to wear the skimpiest fucking dress you owned? Luckily, your husband, Zhongli, wasn't quite affected by it. He still couldn't keep his eyes off of your pretty tits, though. But he was a level-headed man with self control. But then you just had to eat some darn ice cream. It was on a stick, as well. Then you just fucking had to accidentally spill it all over your tits, the creamy, milky white substance sticking to your little dress and coating your beautiful tits. You should've known better, really.

You gargled around Zhongli's fat cock down your throat while he gripped your hair tightly in his still-gloved hand. The ice cream was still on your tits, all dried and sticky on your soft skin. You were getting his cream on them next though, worry not. Your eyes rolled back as he tried to push himself even deeper in your already stuffed throat, his own head tipping back when you whined around his girth. "Just a little longer, little one," he'd grunt, while thrusting up wildly into your mouth.

Level headed man with self control your ass.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

[thatfandomslut]

Healing You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: description of an injury & fluff that might rot your teeth

Request:

Can I re request properly for a Regina x reader where there’s loads of hurt/comfort and Regina’s back problems because the bus can be a part of it. Thank you so so much

Mean Girls requests are open.

When Regina George sent a text to her girlfriend that she was in desperate need of a back massage, (Y/n) made sure to pack all of her essential oils. Regina had finally lost her corrective neck collar but still had severe back pain due to the bus accident. Anytime she needed a massage, (Y/n) was there with essential oils and what could be a new career as a masseuse. Or, at least, that was what Regina deemed as (Y/n) gently rubbed out the knots that had formed down Regina's back. Regina wasn't sure if she was tearing up at how much pain she was in, or if she was tearing up because it felt so good.

(Y/n) gently kissed the back of her head as tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyes shut as her chin rested on top of the pillows gently. "What's wrong, princess?" (Y/n) asked as her thumbs gently rolled over her skin carefully. She made sure to work hard at the deep knots but to be careful to not further injure the girl. She was always so gentle when massaging Regina, recognizing all of her limits or signs of pain. "Does it hurt? Would you like me to stop?" (Y/n) inquired softly, easing up on her touch. She didn't want to keep massaging Regina if it hurt.

"No, no, please keep going," Regina gasped as (Y/n) fingers got right back to work. Regina wiped some tears away as she thought about all of the words inside her head. "I was just thinking of how I wasn't a good friend to Gretchen, Karen, or Cady. Nor was I always nice to you. And, I'm sorry. I know I don't use that word very often, but I genuinely mean it. I'm sorry I wasn't a good girlfriend, (Y/n)."

The notion rendered (Y/n) speechless as she took in Regina's words. Her fingers slowed to a stop as she lay next to Regina, gently nudging her so that she could meet Regina's ice-blue eyes. "You were never a bad girlfriend. Neither of us is perfect, but that doesn't make us bad. If you were ever mean to me, we talked it through. I am happy and content with you. I think an apology could go a long way with the girls, especially Gretchen, but you were never a bad girlfriend to me." (Y/n) whispered, letting her know that this growth was okay and normal to go through.

Regina nodded before leaning over to kiss (Y/n), who responded quickly, kissing her back. (Y/n) smiled on Regina's lips, glad to have brought her comfort in what seemed to be her hour of need. Gently pulling away, (Y/n) placed another kiss on Regina's nose and the other on her forehead. "Do you want me to keep massaging you, or would you like to take a nap? I could wake you up when it's time for your pain medication." Everything was on a schedule for Regina. Normally, (Y/n) would get calls and texts asking for massages around this time because it was when her medicine would be wearing off and she would need more.

Regina smiled as she thought for a moment. "Would it be wrong to ask for both? I could really take a good nap as you massaged me. When I fall asleep, you could also hold me." Regina offered as she tried to bribe (Y/n) into something she already knew she was going to do. (Y/n) moved to continue her massage, agreeing to Regina's offer easily. She didn't need Regina to bribe her with cuddles in order for her to massage Regina as she fell asleep.

It wasn't long before Regina's soft snores were heard, and (Y/n) stopped herself from massaging Regina's back. Sneaking off the bed, she made her way to Regina's bathroom as she washed her hands from the essential oils she had on her hands. Returning, she was happy to see Regina still asleep. (Y/n) laid in bed as she gently cuddled up to the girl, holding her close as she set an alarm. She wanted to make sure that Regina received her medicine.

The alarm's beeping woke (Y/n) up from her dozing as she pulled away from Regina, who groaned in protest. Retrieving the medicine, she gave Regina her water jug to take it. "Why do you stay here and help me so much (Y/n)? I really appreciate it, but don't you have other things to do? I don't want to be a burden." If there was anything that had changed about Regina since the bus accident, it was her speaking up about insecurities. And ever since (Y/n) had been coming over to help her, Regina constantly checked to make sure she wasn't being a burden or keeping (Y/n) from something.

"Healing you is very important to me, Regina. It's why I make sure you get proper rest to heal. I learned how to do massages, and what essential oils are the best, and I would do all of that again if you ever needed me to. I love you, and I will always take care of you whenever you need me to." (Y/n) said softly before sitting next to Regina and taking the water bottle back to sit on the nightstand. "It's what partners do. They take care of each other."

Regina smiled over at her, more comfortable and less insecure. "I love you, too. Thank you for all you have been doing to help me (Y/n). Your support and care have meant the absolute world to me." Regina admitted, laying down and motioning over at (Y/n) to join her. (Y/n) accepted the invitation happily before snuggling up to her girlfriend and pulling her into her arms carefully. She would always be there for Regina, no matter what, and she knew that Regina would do the same for her, too.

[o-sachi]

Shidou Ryusei ‧₊˚ ⋅ Relationship Heacanons + Mini Scenario

ଳ character; shidou ryusei (blue lock) ଳ tags; sfw, gn reader, no y/n

— Slow burn? What’s that? Neither of you know the concept of it because once you found each other… there was just absolutely no letting go. I mean, you have to be the rarest catch ever to be able to match the freak of Shidou Ryusei. Everything between you happens fast.

— Fast as it is, he’ll never let you forget how much he loves you. He’s so aggressive with his loving too (good luck; you’ll need it). Frenzied kisses, hugs that squeeze the life outta you, and all the weirdly sweet compliments are some of the things you can expect from him.

— Not much of a surprise, but the love language that he likes to give and receive would be physical touch. And we know he’s freaky as hell, but the touches don’t always have to be sexual. In fact, he looooves it when you pat his head and massage his scalp. It’s literally the only time when he’s calm and quiet.

— He never takes you out on dates and you don’t complain. Well, he doesn’t take you out on the TYPICAL kinds of dates. Neither of you like dinner dates or movie nights; they’re too boring. You’d much rather go get takeout at 2 AM and eat it in the parking lot. If it’s not spontaneous, then it has to be something that leaves both of you out of breath—laser tag, amusement parks, and paintball to name a few.

— Despite being on the same wavelength, you still fight quite a lot. However, it’s never so serious that you start shouting and hurting each other emotionally. Actually… most of your quarrels are super childish. The last thing you fought about was whether or not Gege should bring Gojo back. Spoiler alert: he’s a Gojo hater.

— I can totally imagine him watching anime with you. He’s lowkey a weeb, trust. It’s actually one of the more calm moments you have with him. That is, if you consider him reacting to every little thing happening to be calm. Best believe he’s shouting at the screen at the most hype moments of the show. He Naruto runs unironically btw.

— He’s… shockingly the possessive type? Like I can imagine that it took him forever to find someone like you, so the prospect of losing you to someone else pisses him the fuck off. He won’t try to hide it too. He’ll still be all sweet with you, but when you look away—whoever tried to poach you will be facing his wrath.

— People are convinced the two of you can communicate telepathically. You can just give each other a look and you both already know what it means. Soooo many inside jokes that if someone else heard the two of you talk, they’d give you a weird look.

— People wouldn’t usually invite Shidou out, unless you would be tagging along. With you around, Shidou isn’t much of a menace. The two of you become the fun couple that livens up the gathering. In short, y’all some crazy fun.

ᯓ Dancing scenario

It was one of those lazy Sundays that the two of you would spend hanging out in your bedroom. It was unusually quiet as both of you were busy scrolling through your phones. A different audio blaring from each of your devices while you scrolled through several Tiktoks.

"Ryu, look at this one," you say, thrusting the phone into his face. "Let's do this dance."

It was one of the simpler dances you found. Everything else was too complicated for the both of you to do in synchrony. You gave him some time to watch it twice and he grins.

The way he hurriedly got off the bed was enough to let you know that he was up for it. You followed suit, preparing your phone to record the two of you dancing like idiots.

Shidou was already practicing on the side. "Heh, this is easy!" But, alas, he was doing it horribly wrong as he always did.

Finally getting the phone ready, you smirk at his silly attempt at the dance and approach him. "You got it all wrong!"

Of course, he insists that he was doing it flawlessly. But you still show him how to do it. About 15 minutes have passed before he became decent at the moves. It's not like you wanted perfection—the mediocrity of your moves makes it funnier anyway. But at the very least, you wanted him to be able to resemble the dance.

"Alright, alright, just hit the record button already. Don't be so fussy. I dance better than you do!"

You playfully glare at him. "Yeah, whatever you say."

Once the phone started recording, you hurriedly went to your place beside him. The music starts and you were able to hit the first few moves. But as you neared the end, Shidou did a different move.

"See? Who messed up first?"

He doesn't own up to it, of course. Shidou, instead, demands for a 2nd take...

then another...

then one more...

then another take...

then, you finally couldn't take it anymore because how is it possible that the more you do it—the more mistakes the both of you do? In the last take, unfortunately, you were the one who messed up.

He gave you that look and you already knew he was going to rub it in your face.

"Hah! Told you I'm the better dancer."

Oh... he did not just say that.

Without another thought, you pounced on him like a wild animal. He should be thankful that your bed caught him, otherwise he wouldn't be attending football practice tomorrow.

You were a self-proclaimed jiu-jitsu fighter when it came to playfighting with him. Well, you don't know the moves or even the name of the moves—but the point is that you have to make him tap out no matter what.

To some extent, this was your little way of showing cuteness aggression—more so the aggression part. Sometimes he just gets on your nerves and this is the only thing that appeases you.

The two of you roll around on the bed, trying to gain leverage over the other. At some point, both of you almost fell off the bed. But he caught the both of you fast enough and flung you back to the other side of the bed.

As he recovered from that, you slipped him into a chokehold. It was a light one, of course. It wasn't like you wanted him to actually pass out.

"What? Gonna tap out?"

He smirks back at your cocky expression and taps your thigh to let you know he was throwing in the towel. He gave up without much of a fight, but that was his own way of letting you know how whipped he is for you.

Shidou might not be good with words, but you fall for his actions nonetheless.

You smile triumphantly at him. "Guess that makes me the better fighter huh?"

A devilish grin stretches across his dark expression

"I demand a round 2."

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

o-sachi © 2024

[holllandtrash]

gone | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)

I just know You're not gone You can't be gone

The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.

word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” 

You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.” 

Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team. 

So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone. 

And you both knew the answer to that one. 

That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference. 

“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”

“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”

The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media. 

When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.

“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”

He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”

Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.

Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.

He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time. 

Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well. 

You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago. 

“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.

The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.

Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”

You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”

You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.

“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”

You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”

You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.

“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”

“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.

“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.

“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction. 

For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.

But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.

You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you. 

“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”

“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.

But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you. 

It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.

You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.

Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.

Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at. 

You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.

“And Y/N, onto you-”

You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.

“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”

You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”

Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”

You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.

But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.

“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.

Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”

You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.

But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”

Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”

You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up. 

You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room. 

Unfortunately, so did Daniel.

He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”

Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”

Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”

You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”

It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.

The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.

What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap. 

But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage. 

“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”

Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2. 

You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.

Serves him right, you thought. 

God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind. 

Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.

Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening. 

Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him. 

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him. 

“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time. 

“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”

“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”

“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”

You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it. 

Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart. 

“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”

You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.

Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.

The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.

Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1. 

Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.

Of course he didn’t, though. 

Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud. 

That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.

You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.

But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri. 

You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades. 

When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season. 

Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel. 

Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.

It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done. 

Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel. 

You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were. 

Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case. 

And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do. 

You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.

The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.

You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire. 

You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you. 

Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him. 

But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.

“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset. 

“Plan F.”

Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.

“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.

“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”

From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position. 

Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight. 

Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind. 

You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come. 

You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust. 

You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors. 

He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.

Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.

Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.

You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme. 

You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.

The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.

There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.

It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications. 

You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.

It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.

Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.

The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.

But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours. 

This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.

Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?

Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought. 

The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to. 

You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you. 

That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.

Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt. 

You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with. 

“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.

“I need to,” you answered. 

“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service. 

It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.

Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you. 

The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol. 

He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.

Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver. 

You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.

“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners. 

“Get what?”

You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved. 

Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.

“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought. 

When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.

“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”

You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete. 

You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel. 

Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.

It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.

When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.

But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it. 

You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.

Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap. 

Why did he follow you?

This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver. 

The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was. 

You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.

But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case. 

You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.

Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything. 

“Checo’s gone after this year.”

You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”

You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024. 

But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened. 

And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?

You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”

“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”

The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face. 

But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue. 

“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out. 

The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together. 

Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.

You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?

“You’re not mad?” He asked.

The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.

“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible. 

“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid. 

“Enraged,” you said.

“Enraged,” he repeated.

“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you. 

You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.

You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around. 

“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”

“I want to talk.”

“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”

There it was.

“I knew you were mad.”

“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”

You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.

“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage. 

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.

“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”

You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.

But he didn’t go anywhere. 

And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.

“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.

“No, but I loved you.” 

You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.

“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”

“We could have had both.”

Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1. 

Clearly not.

“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you. 

Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.

“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.

It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.

He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior. 

The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024. 

The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.

And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.

His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.

No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium. 

You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.

Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.

People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.

You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.

Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence. 

This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.

But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.

You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.

You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.

How could the world move on if you hadn’t?

Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.

You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.

He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.

You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.

Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night. 

At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone. 

Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” 

Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.” 

Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back. 

You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.

There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore. 

You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.

“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”

You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.

“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”

Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”

You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”

Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you. 

Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove. 

That was a move you had to live with. 

“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this. 

“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”

We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.

Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall. 

“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded. 

You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.

“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”

You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.

You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore. 

And you couldn’t hold onto it either.

As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.

You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.

You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.

Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship. 

But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.

You had to look away.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him. 

Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be in love. 

And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan. 

But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.

You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.

__________________

is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?

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