#It just came into my mind and I had to draw it

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Squid game Season 2 men saving you when you almost die in the game

Characters: player 001, 230, 124

Warnings: canon violence, near death experience, toxic relationships, drug use, mention of suicide, romantic tension, f! Reader

A/N: this is no diss to anyone bc I respect the grind, I truly do, but everything I see of squid game is nsfw. I have to HUNT for sfw shit. I just gave up and just read everything anyways. So I’m trying to balance the scales a bit for rn. Again no diss bc yall nsfw writers COOK.

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ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 001

(Weird ppl attacking you in game)

- ok so for this one I’ll say that you are just a average player in the games he happened upon. You two met because you were on the ‘X’ team, and more specifically in gi- Huns group.

- he normally is pretty resistant to the ‘worthless sob stories of the poor’ as he puts it. But for some odd reason, yours got to him

- thrown out of home, forced to survive and fend for yourself out in the streets, hopping from job to job because you can’t pay rent on time 8/10 and you get evicted. Pulling loan after loan to keep yourself afloat, and even that is starting to fail you. You are at the very end of the road and if you can’t manage to leave here without some money you are 100% fucked. You genuinely think the only way out of the hole you’ve dug is either a miracle in here or checking out of life manually.

- in-ho LOVES sad wet cat type people, he can’t help it. And even though he’s heard basically the same stories from hundreds of people yet somehow you stuck with him

- life was unfair to you, you were cast out. If that didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have to be living “like garbage”. Almost everyone else put themselves in their financial hole, you started in one. Not fair, see? He’s doing so much mental gymnastics and logistical jumping to validate himself. You’re different, you don’t count.

- you really weren’t a extremely strong individual , you didn’t draw attention to yourself like many of the others, you didn’t argue much or ask many questions. You came with a goal. And he respected that.

- after game two though, the marathon, you and many others decided it was time to call it quits. So you voted ‘X’ with gi-hun and everyone else. And surprisingly in-ho, or young-il as he named himself, also picked ‘X’

- you both didn’t really talk much besides maybe a few sentences to each other about how your group was meant to survive. But after the second vote, having a X on your shirt also meant having a target on your back. And being the “minding my own business” type it doubled that factor.

- a group of three people, two guys and one girl approached you. Sorrounding you and pestering you on your vote. It turned to raised voices and getting in your face, to shoving from all three people as you just stood there and took it, unwilling to change votes. Though you might not fight like some others that doesn’t mean you aren’t brave.

- though as soon as young-il (for simplicity) saw those men put hands on you he was already trudging his way cross room, leaving gi-hun mid conversation to aid you.

- you were backed against the bed frame of the stacked sleeping quarters, these three lunatics yelling and shoving you, telling you that you have to vote ‘O’ “or else”. You assumed it implied you leaving this place in a box.

- that’s when young-il made it to you. “That’s quite enough” he says, eyes cold as ice and facial expression locked in stone. His posture was straight and his head was held high. Very intimidating, it’s almost like he had a military commander type vide (hahaha- odd right??)

- the girl was quick to scamper off, giving you a glare as she informs the boys she’ll be waiting by their group. The men however puff their chests out and square up a bit, and you get second hand embarrassment because young-il doesn’t even flinch or break the deadly eye contact. “Are you sure.” Is all he said. It didn’t sound like an actual question, more of a “are you sure you wanna get your ass beat in front of all these people” threat.

- they got the memo from his venomous words and slowly creeped off back to wherever they came from, looking like puppies with their tails tucked as they walked away.

- “thank you so much” you say, bowing slightly in gratitude for his kindness. He gives you a nice chuckle before lifting your shoulders back up.

- “oh no no, it’s nothing. Those boys should know better, I bet their mothers would chew their ears off if they saw their lack of manners” he jokes, earning a giggle from you.

- it makes him feel kinda fuzzy, but he compartmentalizes that feeling for when he’s alone and can process it. In the mean time he just places his hand on your lower back, guiding you back to the group where you will be safe (and in arms reach)

- this just opened a Pandora’s box of possessiveness and lies, and he doesn’t even know how it will end

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

(Mingle)

- for this let’s just say that you met up with thanos for the second game, the marathon one, and yall clicked a bit, leading him to tell you that “you should stay with me and my crew, for safety”

- and so you do. What could be the harm? He’s clearly deranged and a loose cannon, wouldn’t it be better to just go along before he kills you?

- is what you originally thought. Turns out after that conversation and you joined, he really isn’t that bad to be around. When he’s high he always makes you laugh, constantly cracking jokes and making fun of people at their expense to make you smack his shoulder a bit, saying “be nice!”

- you noticed he thrives on attention, and you give it to him freely. It’s hard not to when he’s got bright purple hair, hand tattoos WITH rainbow painted nails, and he’s rapping and dancing like he was in the comfort of his own home. Plus nam gyu, the guy who lowkey bullied the shit out of you the first few days was now told to “chill out man”

- now, you were all standing on a spinning circular floor, a cute little cheery jingle being played from over the speakers. Thanos and nam gyu danced together to the music, high in ways you didn’t even know you could get. It was pretty silly though, acting like kids.

- then the music dropped, and a number was said. You had to run with that number of people into a room to live. Those left behind will die

- the first few rounds were easy, the numbers were quite high and you held onto thanos’ jacket to stay with the group. The sounds of people begging to be let in followed by being punctured with bullets rang in your mind and the number for people in groups got lower and lower, until the number was two.

- you, thanos, nam gyu and min-su all stared at each other for a moment, frozen on who to pick before thanos started throwing his head from side to side before turning and gripping your arm and nam gyus, running full speed and pulling you along, forcing you to leave min-su. Though you felt horrible once you saw his shocked little face, you just kept going. Choosing to save your life instead of feeling bad and dying there.

- thanos shoved nam gyu towards the door next to the one you were about to be tossed in, luckily he saw someone was waiting by themselves in the room, so he was safe with two. Nam gyu gave him a small nod to let him know he was safe and set to survive.

- thanos rushed you in, slamming the door behind him and peering out. This was the last round, you made it. The door beeped behind you and locked, ensuring your victory of the game.

- adrenaline was still pumping through your veins as you gazed up at him from your spot cowering against the wall as gun shots rang. You didn’t even hear the people screaming or the poor souls who were locked from the room right behind you and thanos, damming you to hell for getting to the room first as they die. “Holy shit” you say as you look at him as he smiled back. “We did it.”

- “yup” he says confidently “now let’s see how much money we earned” thanos says as he pulled open the door for the final time. Before he can step out you grab his sleeve “hey- uh thank you” you mumbled

- he could have just left you like min-su and went with nam gyu, but he chose to save you.

- “what? Nah it’s nothing. Don’t worry” he says, patting you on the head and steering you out of the room

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

(Lights out fight)

- there was a obvious tension in the air, one that nearly suffocated you as you sat with nam gyu on a bed… thanos’ bed.

- the vote ended in a tie, meaning the vote was to be redone the following day. After that was announced, your friends thanos and nam gyu went to the bathroom to ‘help even out the votes’. Specifically to talk to that poor min-su they’ve been harassing non stop. Only just nam gyu came back out. Eyes blown wide and covered head to toe in thick splashes of blood. Your heart nearly died when you saw him stumbling dazed out of the bathroom. You knew SOMETHING had happened when no thanos returned safely to you.

- after that, he tried convincing you they didn’t start the fight, which you saw right through. Eventually he dropped that act and told you straight up what went down. How your friend was murdered. Nam gyu tried covering his pain up by insulting thanos and taking two of his pills from the cross he stole from him. Calling him an asshole and an idiot. Again, you saw right through.

- you brought your hand up to his face to wife some blood off with your sleeve. And he leaned right into it, sighing very very deeply as he crushed the drugs between his teeth. He held your hand to his face, which you thought was just him being cute until he started talking about how there needed to be a total blood bath that night. To ensure team ‘O’ wins and you both could keep going. You tried to pull away but his grip kept you like in your spot next to him.

- “no nam gyu, we can’t just kill these people. They are just like us they just need money-“

- “yes! That’s the fucking point. We need that danm money, can’t you see? We won’t fucking win with all those stupid fucking cockroaches leeching our money” he hisses, harsh words contrasting with his hands tracing patterns gently on yours. “We won’t win this vote with them alive, we won’t get more money with them all alive. This is the only way”

- he just kept going and going until you agreed, saying you’d at least let him go out and kill and you’d be his little look out. Only nothing can go smoothly for anyone ever here.

- while there’s lights flashing and people screaming, blood and gore being sprayed from the alive and leaking from the dead, you are trying to make out what is going on around you. You can (faintly) see nam gyu out in the room, grabbing people and ripping them to shreds with his fork, the very fork that killed thanos to be exact.

- while you were looking around for nam gyu, someone had come up behind you, grabbing you by the neck and trying to choke you out. You screamed out nam gyus name as loud as you could as the attackers grip tightened and tightened to the point where you thought your neck was bound to snap. Your vision going out slowly as all you can recognize becomes the sound of the chaos. Until suddenly you were freed, and your assaulter was ripped off you and pinned to the ground by nam gyu.

- he started repeatingly stabbing the person, blood flying onto you and him as he slit the person open. When he stopped you basically flung yourself at him, crying “thank you! Thank you!”. He just saved your life, though You could barely recognize him, he was lost completely in drug fueled blood lust and rage.

- maybe not completely you figured, as he rushed to you and scooped you up. He returned you to a bunk, telling you to hide there and wait for him. Promising you he’ll come back, that he will keep you safe. And he did, as the lights came on and the gun shots rung out, he was alive and on his way back to you

______

Bet yall can’t guess who my favorite is >:3

[eatfishies]

your touch sets me ablaze | 🔞

summary: Rafayel is determined to make all your worries go away.

or

Rafayel giving his "Miss Bodyguard" the time of her life.

word count: 3.5k words tags: NSFW, rafayel x reader (afab), porn without plot, oral sex (cunnilingus), clit play, swearing, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, exhibitionism, overstimulation, public sex (or semi..? idk), pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: rafa fingers owo .. that’s it . i jus have an obsession w his pretty fingers ok . hehe hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !

The long-awaited day of Rafayel’s exhibition is finally here. She smoothed out her dress, ensuring that there is no speck of dust or any creases. The dress hugged her curves like second skin, a dark blue shade that matches the ocean — she heard it faintly as she fixed herself on the mirror. The tidal waves swished around with fluidity as the birds chirped merrily, giving her a sense of peace despite the gnawing anxiety bubbling up inside her. She sighed, biting her lip as she mulled over her thoughts when the door opened, revealing Rafayel. 

Dressed in a white buttoned shirt, paired with a dark blue suit jacket and black tailored slacks. He looked mesmerizing as he always does whenever she sees him. Many people claim that Rafayel’s paintings are beautiful, each brushstroke has its own story and together, mixed with the soft colors is enough to draw someone in. It was easy to get lost in his artworks hence why his buyers are eager to get their hands on the latest pieces of his art. Every art dealer was entranced by the beauty of it. One could say, if you gaze at his painting, the sight of it could linger in your mind even as you slumber, dancing around and luring you into the depths of the ocean.

He smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her figure appreciatively, “Hey cutie, looking good there.” He walked towards her, placing his hands on her hips, “Why the long face…? It’s my exhibition, not yours.” She knows he was just teasing, trying to quell her dwelling thoughts but she can only give him a faint smile.

“I know that… I just…” She sighed, unsure of how to properly form her sentence. Her mind is constantly racing, overlapping each fleeting thought. “I’ve just been… overthinking about all sorts of things, I suppose. Maybe it’s just the stress of everything…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the side.

The Lemurian hummed, studying his lover’s face with deep concentration, “Well, we still have some time left to kill. Do you wanna do something to take your mind off things?” His hands cupped her face gently, making her stare at his handsome face. 

“Uh… I’m not sure.” She responded, still preoccupied with her troubles. 

Rafayel’s hands fall to the side before grabbing her wrist and leading her out of the bedroom and into the center of the studio. He gently pushed her down to the couch, “Stay here.” He said before stalking off to grab something from the desk. She could only watch with curiosity, wondering what Rafayel had planned to distract her. 

When he came back, he was holding a box of Pile It Up. She couldn’t help but smile, already feeling a surge of competitive spirit bubbling inside her. “Oh, you’re so on!” She grinned at him.

And yet, after a few minutes of playing, she felt the same thoughts resurfacing. Rafayel didn’t need to be told twice to know that his partner is deep in her worries, he could see the frown etched on her features or the way she subtly tapped her fingers repeatedly against the block. 

He sighed, standing up and taking a seat next to her, “I hate seeing you like this.” He paused, searching her face before caressing her cheek tenderly, “We don’t need to talk about it but I wished I could take all your troubles away. It makes me sad to see you look so blue.” 

A small hint of guilt crept up, she forced herself to hold Rafayel’s gaze. “I’ll be fine, really. Just… stress, the usual.” She spoke tiredly, relishing the feeling of his hand on her cheek. 

Suddenly, an idea popped up inside the painter’s head. “Then… let me put your mind at ease, yeah?” But before she could inquire, the Lemurian pulled her into a soft kiss, effectively drowning out any single thought she had previously. Their lips moved languidly in a passionate yet loving kiss. His hands slid down to feel her curves, swallowing her needy whimpers as his fingers hiked the hem of the dress up, exposing more of her skin. 

He gently laid her down and pulled away, hovering above her, admiring the way her lips are now swollen and glistened with his saliva. No doubt that the lipstick has smeared onto his mouth as well but he couldn’t care less, slowly inching closer to her most intimate place. She bit her lip, growing impatient at his deliberate and sensual movements but the words of protest died in her throat when Rafayel finally touched her clit, feeling the wet patch growing as he kept stroking her.

“You’re already so wet for me… you sure are eager, aren’t you?” He smirked as she gripped his arms and bucked her hips. “Come on, let me hear your pretty sounds, cutie.” He purred, effortlessly pulling her panties to the side and rubbing her slick folds. A string of moans and whimpers fell from her lips as Rafayel continued to touch her, staring intently as her expressions contorted to one of pleasure. The worry lines on her face, the frown and the anxiousness emitting off of her earlier are all gone, replaced by fervent lust and desire. 

With a swift motion, Rafayel plunged two fingers deep inside her wet pussy. Her velvet walls clamping down tightly as he curled his digits, “Ha…! F- fuck! Raf…” She moaned out, it was the sound that he could never get tired of hearing. Her body writhed beneath her lover’s skilful ministrations. 

“That’s it… keep feeling good around my fingers. You’re doing so well for me, baby.” He uttered sultry and low, pressing kisses on her neck before biting onto the flesh. He knew that once she was clear-headed, she would scold him for leaving a mark, especially when they were both due to attend his exhibition later. But Rafayel couldn’t care less, he was addicted to her scent, her taste, her sounds and everything about her makes him want to lose himself completely, surrendering himself to the woman he holds dear to. 

The heat in her stomach coiled, the tell-tale signs of her climax approaching her as Rafayel fingers her faster and deeper, noticing the pitch of her moans getting louder. Her wet cunt squelched obscenely around his long digits as he worked to bring her close to her release. He licked her earlobe and nipped at it, “Be a good girl and come all over my fingers. Come on, you can do it, can’t you?” 

Spurred by Rafayel’s encouragement, she squeezed her eyes shut as her pussy clenched tightly around his plunging fingers. “I’m… I’m close! I’m gonna come!” She cried out, her cunt clamping down on his digits as she came hard, pussy juice gushing out and all over his hand and wrist. 

“Good girl. You did so great, my little conch.” He pulled his soaked fingers out and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Rafayel felt a swell of pride at seeing the state of his lover like this, she’s no longer concerned with troubling thoughts or anxieties. Only a look of pure bliss. 

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean, savoring the taste of her. “You taste divine, my love.” A blush spread through her cheeks as she stared at the sight of Rafayel delightfully tasting her essence. 

“But… I’m not done yet. Not even close.” His voice drops an octave lower as he spread her legs wide and tugged her damp panties off, tossing them on the floor. Her cunt fluttered around nothing, dripping with slick from her orgasm earlier. “I can’t wait to devour you.” And with that, he leaned in and lapped her pussy tentatively, keeping his gaze fixed on her face as her fingers tangled in his purple hair, gripping it. 

Debauched cries and moans bounced off the walls along with the erotic sounds of Rafayel eating her cunt out with vigor, like a man starved. “F- feels so good!” She whimpered as the Lemurian held her thighs, spreading them wider, giving him more access to her sopping core. 

Unable to resist, Rafayel delved in deeper, sealing his lips around her clit and suckling the sensitive nub. He flicked his tongue faster, determined to bring his dear bodyguard to her peak once more. The needy sounds spilling from her lips were like music to his ears, urging him on, to give her the pleasure that she so desperately sought. 

“D- don’t stop, Raf! Please!” Her hips bucked wantonly as she ground her slick cunt against his mouth. Rafayel smirked in response, letting her tug on his hair fiercely as he thrust his tongue deep inside her clutching heat, fucking her with his mouth, feeling incredibly turned on and eager to watch her fall apart beneath him. 

He could feel her juices flooding his mouth, could taste her arousal coating his tongue. Rafayel could go on for days burying his head in between her legs, couldn’t ever get enough of her sweet essence. “Come for me. Come on my tongue like the good girl that you are.” He spurred, the words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. 

The all-too familiar sensation coursed through her body as she moaned out, “I’m gonna come! Raf, I’m gonna come!” At that, Rafayel vigorously sucked hard on her clit, feeling her walls starting to flutter and clench around his plunging tongue. He could feel the heat of her core climbing, threatening to spill once more. The Lemurian easily slipped in two fingers, knuckle-deep into her dripping cunt. He pumped them in and out, curling them just so to hit that spot that made his lover writhe in utter bliss. 

It was too much, the stimulation was overbearing as her body tensed, her thighs clamped around his head as she teetered on the brink. Rafayel gripped her hips tighter, holding her in place as he ate them out with wild, desperate abandon. 

“Rafayel!” She cried out, arching off of the couch as her orgasm crashed over her for the second time. The painter moaned as he felt the flood of arousal coating his tongue and chin, lapping it up greedily as she shuddered and quaked beneath him. He could feel the way her walls gripped his fingers, sucking in and reluctant to let go, milking his hand for all it was worth. 

“P- please… too much…” She whined, riding out the intense wave of her climax. Rafayel gave her dripping wet pussy one last lick before pulling back slightly to catch his breath. “I could just drown in your taste for the rest of my life.” He spoke breathlessly, slowly withdrawing his fingers and bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean, just like he did earlier.  

Just as Rafayel was about to lean down and kiss her, the unmistakable sound of his ringtone snapped both of their attention. Rafayel stared down at her, a look of surprise on his face, “Let me get it.” He stood up and walked over to the desk, grabbing his phone. Frowning, he reads the message and pockets it away, looking back at her with a sigh. “It’s Thomas. Says we need to be at the exhibition in 20 minutes.” 

A small part of her felt disappointed at the fact that they would need to go out soon but she wasn’t just the only one whos’ feeling it. Rafayel gazed at her with a slight pout, he had hoped to fuck her silly before they were called to the gallery. But alas, duties calls and if they stalled any longer, Thomas would suspect something was up, even though Rafayel is known for arriving late to his exhibitions or not even appearing at all. 

“Should we just ditch this and not go?” He said exasperatedly, crossing his arms in annoyance. She smiled softly at him, sitting up straight and pulling her dress down, still panty-less underneath. She could feel her own slick running down her inner thighs, a faint blush spread through her cheeks as she briefly recalled the way Rafayel had brought her to climax twice. 

However, her gaze lowered to the sight of Rafayel’s painfully hard and obvious bulge, straining against his pants. Biting her lips, she quickly squashed down any lewd thoughts, refraining from losing her focus by daydreaming about sinking her tight wet cavern onto Rafayel’s thick cock. No, she needs to get it together and actually drag her Lemurian lover to the gallery, lest they face the wrath of Thomas. 

With a reluctant smile, she stood up and bent down to pick up her panties, slipping them on. “I guess it’s time to go. Come on, you pouty baby.” She pinched his cheek, earning a glare from her lover but it lacked no malice, instead filled with tenderness and love. Rafayel sighed dramatically, intertwining their fingers together, “Fine, fiiiiinee.” 

As they began to walk towards the front door, she paused, “Ah wait, I need to grab something.” But Rafayel wouldn’t budge, clasping her hand tightly as he stared ahead. He leaned in and whispered hotly in her ears, “Just keep your panties on. Don’t think this is over just because we’re going somewhere.” Heat rises up to her cheeks at the suggestive implication, was Rafayel planning something? It was a risky move, she knew she should go and grab the short pants to wear beneath her dress but Rafayel only gripped his hold on her, sensing the slight confusion. “Trust me, cutie. I know a way to make the exhibition waaaay more entertaining.” 

Alas, she gave in and nodded, “No funny stuff, alright!” She warned but Rafayel only smiled cheekily at her in response. “I’ll be a good boy and behave, dontcha’ worry, my darling.” He gave her a wink, a silent promise to be on his best behavior, yet there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes.

‧───────────────‧

The gallery was filled and buzzing with prestigious art dealers and other VIP guests, mingling around and admiring the exquisite artworks that were displayed on the walls. She stood to the side, a glass of champagne in her hand as she glanced at Rafayel who is, no doubt, forced to converse with the guests by Thomas. She hummed, taking in the scene before her, it was clear that Rafayel has always been popular but to witness it entirely was a different feeling. It warms her heart knowing that Rafayel is loved and cherished by many people here – a respected artist in his own field, earning awe-struck stares and quiet excited cheers. 

She took a sip of her drink, enjoying her solitude when Rafayel sauntered over to her. “How is my princess doing?” He smirked, standing next to her, his gaze briefly flickering down to the hem of her dress. She could tell a thing or two about what he’s thinking, all of the thoughts are most likely inappropriate. “I’m doing okay.” She replied casually, “Shouldn’t you be talking to your esteemed guests? Wouldn’t want Thomas to come hurling complaints again, hm?” 

At the mention of Thomas’s complaints, Rafayel grimaced and looked away, “Puh-lease, I’m his boss here, not him. He can’t control me, no matter how much he wants to.” His hand found their way on her hips, pulling her close. “Besides, I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere private, yeah?” Before she could voice out her objections, Rafayel immediately dragged her to the quieter, lonely 

 side of the gallery. There were no artworks framed on the walls nor are there any people here to disturb the couple. “Raf honey… are you sure we're allowed here? Isn’t this section of the gallery closed off?” Her voice tinged with uncertainty and maybe a little bit of unease at the blank and empty part of the gallery. 

“It’s fine, no one ever comes home.” He reassured her, letting go of his hand and cupping her face, “Now, it’s just the two of us here.” Rafayel captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his pent-up desire from before into it. She could taste the remnants of her pussy juice, rendering her completely into a puddle of mess as Rafayel’s fingers trailed down and slipped underneath her dress with ease. She whimpered against his lips as Rafayel rubbed her clit through her damp panties, soaked from the pleasure she received back in the comfort of his home. 

“R- raf… ah! Mhmm… we- we can’t” She murmured helplessly as Rafayel began to nip at her neck, licking the hickey he left there. It had bloomed beautifully, his mark on hers – a sign to everyone that she was his. Only his. 

Of course, she hadn’t been a fool, she did try to cover up the hickey before they stepped into the exhibition but Rafayel wouldn’t stop pestering her and telling her to just leave it be. In the end, she caved in and proudly showed off the mark, albeit with much reluctance and embarrassment. Rafayel rasped, “Need you… need you here, right now.” 

Swiftly, Rafayel tugged her panties aside and unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He pressed her against the wall, her back facing him, “N- now?!” She sputtered but Rafayel was already stroking his aching shaft on her sopping wet mound. 

He lined himself up, the broad head of his cock nudging insistently at her entrance. Rafayel wanted nothing more than to slam inside, to consume her entirely, his body blazing with need but he knew she was still sensitive from the overstimulation. “Keep quiet, okay?” He whispered hotly before thrusting deep inside her slick walls, burying himself to the hilt, feeling it tighten. 

“You feel so fucking good.” He gripped her hips, staring intently at his lover, biting her lips to stifle the moans and cries of pleasure. Without wasting any time, Rafayel set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucked into her dripping cunt with deep, powerful strokes. Anyone could walk in on them, going at it like rabbits in heat but all caution and care was thrown out of the window. Rafayel could only feel her wet, clasping heat, determined to bring her to the edge and make her feel good. There was no denying the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, if a guard were to catch them, they would no doubt be in trouble.

Then again, the risk is what makes it exciting. Rafayel groaned softly, nuzzling into her neck as she held back her cries of ecstasy, the familiar coppery tang of her blood sinking into her tongue from biting her lips too hard. Rafayel’s hands slid up to cup and knead her breasts through her dress as he pounded into her. The sensation was too much, her brain was all mushy as her pussy fluttered around him, sucking him in deeper, wanting more. 

Her hands pathetically scrambled to hold onto the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as she desperately tries to not let a single sound fall off of her lips. Rafayel’s voice was low, “You're clenching me so tightly baby. Ha… what a dirty girl, taking my cock like this out in the open. You love this, don’t you?” 

A whimper escaped from her throat as Rafayel slammed his hips forward fast and deep into her dripping, clinging heat. He noticed the way her breath quickened, her face etched in a fucked-out expression, losing herself to the overwhelming pleasure. Her pussy clenching around him, velvet walls fluttering wildly as he drove her closer to the edge. 

Rafayel withdrew from fondling her breasts and gripped her face, turning her towards him as his lips met hers in a messy, desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth as he fucked her towards her release. “Come for me, you can do it. Come one more time for me on my cock.” He murmured against her lips, feeling his orgasm nearing.

He felt her body stiffened, coming undone as he drowned out all her cries with a wet, sensual kiss. Rafayel grunted, his hips stuttering and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her soaked cunt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he pumped her full with his seed. Rafayel pulled away and panted, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, a sheen of sweat trickling down from their coupling. He gazed at her with adoring eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before he reluctantly pulled out of her cum-filled cunt. Rafayel tugged the panties to the center of her clit, covering her as she caught her breath. 

Wordlessly, Rafayel scooped her into his arms around her, letting her rest her head against his chest. Her eyes shut closed, her mind dancing around cloud nine from the intensity of it all.  

“Let’s go home, my love.” He said softly as he made his way towards the exit, ignoring the curious stares and ogles from the people in the exhibition. When Thomas tried to question him, Rafayel dismissed him and continued to walk to his car, gently putting her down onto the passenger seat.

Once they were home, Rafayel put on a bath and scrubbed her clean with much affection. Afterwards, he prepared dinner and cuddled her, staring down at her peaceful expression as she slumber. 

“I love you, my treasure.” He spoke quietly, kissing her forehead before falling asleep with his lover in his arms. 

[moonchildcovenxx]

Making Sevika Beg

a/n: this was so fun to write guys. Sub/switch! Sevika finally begging bc hell yeah

told @justhereforsubsevika that I was maybe probably definitely gonna write this… look at me holding myself accountable

Sevika was stubborn. As her girlfriend, you probably knew this best. Whether it be something trivial or a moment like this: A vibrator pressed to her clit, no relent in sight. Despite her previous three denied orgasms, your girl was just too headstrong to beg for anything.

“‘m not gonna—fuck—I’m not gonna beg for shit.” Sevika punctuates gritty. You delight in the drunken slur that dampens the harshness in her bitten out sentence. You’re not surprised that she’d held out so long, but you enjoy how the cracks in her demeanor deepen with each passing second. “Think of how many times I could’ve fucked you already baby.” You purr watching as Sevika shudders at your words, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stop the whines from leaving her. All muscle and sharp tongue, a puddle beneath your touch.

Sevika’s arm flies up to cover her face as you turn the toy up a setting. This had to be the highest level, right?  She’s embarrassed of the mewls that are leaving her—devastated, desperate, and filthy. “Oh Vika.” You coo, feeling the pit in your stomach flip at her noises.

You’re moving the vibrator in cruel, teasing circles, and as Sevika’s abs tense, she realizes with sickening resolve that she is close again. Sevika swears loudly as you pull it away again.  “It’s not that hard honey.” Your saccharine lilt makes Sevika groan—in annoyance or pleasure she was yet to decide. “Just let me fucking cum.” She grunts, attempting to move your hand back to wear she wants it. Her arm that outstretches usually with confidence is shaky, and you marvel at the effect that you have on her. You wriggle out of her grasp quickly, and Sevika’s gaze turns lethal, leaning back on her elbows to eye you with a look that would scare anyone—unfortunately for her, it wouldn’t work on you. 

You giggle merely, shrugging. “Like I said, you don’t have to beg. But I’m not helping you cum.” Sevika grits her teeth, still glaring at you.  Her eyebrows furrow however, when you press the vibrator back to her clit, you smirk as her whole body jumps. Sevika whimpers, hips bucking up, the stimulation all too much and all too little. 

You hum as Sevika’s hands fist into the sheets, eyes rolling back. “You close Vika?” You murmur smoothly. She nods slow and wordless, afraid of what sounds might come out if she opens her mouth.

You tut carefully, hand caressing her boobs as you begin to pull the vibrator away again.

Sevika finally snaps letting out a guttural sob. “Fine! Fine— please I need it— I need you to—”

She goes dead silent. You’ve turned the vibrations up even higher and Sevika lets out an unrestrained keen as she grabs at your arm shakily trying to keep it there.

“I’m gonna let you cum now honey.” You drawl satisfied. Sevika intakes a swift breath as you press the toy harder down into her. 

“Fuck—oh my Fuck—“ Sevika lets out a strangled surprised moan.

Her whole body continues to shudder as she rides out her orgasm. It feels all too good as she pants out your name in insistent, quiet, gasps. 

You’re not turning it off. She realizes a beat later when the sensitivity sets in, a nearly unbearable buzz in the back of her mind.

“What are you doing—I just—ah!” Sevika bites her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “I just came.” She finally gets out, looking at you for pity. “I’m not done.” You say simply, making her roll her eyes. It amuses you to see her attitude still shining through. Her attempted glare quickly falls as you run the vibrator slowly up her soaked heat.

“Please don’t— I’m close— please.” Sevika groans out hoarse. You’re sure there is a damp spot in your panties from this. Seeing Sevika this flustered was a rarity. She trembles as you move the toy back to where her clit is pulsing with need. Neither of you expect the wail that leaves her lips as Sevika squirts, eyes rolled so far back you can only see the whites. 

“There we go honeyyy.” You smirk down at Sevika when her cheeks flush, legs canting closed. Small hiccuped whimpers fall past her lips no matter how hard she tries to suppress them.

“Oh fuck—no more.” Sevika rasps urgent after a second. You finally nod listening, turning the vibrator off with a click. 

Sevika’s lying there, hands pressed to her forehead as her muscles jump every so often. “I can’t believe I let you fucking do that.” She huffs. You chuckle crawling up near her. “Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, huh?” you quip, shrieking as her arms circle you manhandling you to her chest. “I almost feel bad for you.” She tsks, placing a kiss to your jaw. “What for?” You bait knowingly, smiling triumphant, until she flips the two of you, arms on the either side of your head. You gasp. “Well I just know after this you’re gonna wish you were a bit nicer to me.” 

You swear harshly as her calloused hands begin to trace down your figure.

[harryhighkey]

don't let go

hi! this is a part three to my Frontman series.

thanks for all the love on this series so far!!! I've been loving writing it so I'm super happy that people are loving reading it!

here is a link to part one and part two if you haven't read them yet!

"(Y/N)," Player 001 quietly called your name, he'd awoken twenty minutes ago and had been enjoying the serenity of having you sleeping in his arms.

At some point in the night, you'd rolled over and were now facing him, your face nuzzled into his neck. Your slow breaths tickling his skin in the best way. He hadn't felt such a profound sense of peace around him in such a long time. This was a bad idea, because now he couldn't stand the thought of losing it. Hope was something he'd let go of, but there you were, right beside him with the face of an angel, you'd quickly become his ray of light at the end of the dark tunnel he'd been stuck in for years.

Last night after he had helped you calm down and knew you were fast asleep, he'd fallen asleep in your little bed too. He hadn't intended to, he knew if people saw - whether it be the other contestants or his guards - the two of you would become a talking point. Luckily you'd managed to find a bunk that was pretty hidden away, but he didn't want to draw more attention to you. Over his time of being the Frontman he'd come to learn that attention in this place usually meant you were more of a target.

It was very early, most people were still asleep, he wanted to get up before everyone started to wake up. But he just had to talk to you first, today's game was going to be the most brutal yet. He knew that, because he planned it. He knew it was going to be tough to get through, physically and emotionally. He was terrified of what it would do to you.

He moved his head, his cheek grazing yours so he could whisper right into your ear. "(Y/N)," he repeated your name, you mumbled in response, still very much closer to still sleeping than waking up. "You need to wake up, angel." He moved his face back and brought a hand up to caress your cheek, he dared to rub his nose against yours, hoping to rouse you more from your slumber.

"Hmm.." You briefly opened your eyes, only to wince and shut them tight at the sudden onslaught of light. In-ho laughed, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss you at the sight of your bottom lip pouting. "I'm sleepy." Your voice came out whiney.

"I know, (Y/N), but I need you to listen to me."

"I can listen and sleep. I can multitask."

He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. How badly he wanted to give you whatever you wanted. Soon he would be able to let you rest for as long as you desired, he just had to get you to survive this hard part first.

"This is serious, come on pretty girl, open your eyes for me."

Butterflies. You felt them explode in your stomach. He had your attention. You listened and opened your eyes, it took you a few long blinks to be able to leave them open, and a stretch that had you arching your back more into him. He had to fight off the way that movement turned him on.

"There she is, good morning." Player 001 greeted you.

"Good morning." You smiled so sweetly at him, he was so warm beside you, so comforting. You could get used to being his little spoon. There was already minimal room in the bunks but with how close the two of you were right now, it seemed you didn't need much room, anyway.

"May I ask, why did you come here?" This question hadn't left the front of his mind. He had to get this answer before bringing up the game.

"Well, I was told I could play some games for money, I won Ddajki right away. I thought it would all be that easy." You paused and took a breath. "I have a big debt I need to pay."

"But you're so young, how could you owe so much money?"

Yours eyes danced back and forth between his. You hadn't told anyone why you were here, you hadn't really planned on doing so, either. But you trusted this man, he looked at you so sincerely, he held you so tenderly, he looked out for you. "My mother, she had been sick since I was 11. There were so many medical bills building up, she couldn't pay them because she was too sick to work. I worked odd jobs when I was old enough around school, but never earned no where near enough to pay them all back." Tears started to well in your eyes. "She died when I was 19."

"(Y/N), I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You shut your eyes, enjoying the intimacy in his comfort. "What about your dad?"

You clenched your jaw and spoke with venom. "He left when I was 14. He met another woman. We never heard from him since."

In-ho was piecing you together. The twisted side of him had just discovered the reason you felt drawn to him - an older man. The dark side wanted to kill your father for abandoning you during such a tumultuous time, causing you to be here right now. The gentle side you'd brought forward was going to immediately pay off all those debts for you the second these games were over.

"You had to look after her?"

"Yeah."

"That's a lot for a young girl to go through. You didn't deserve that."

You shrugged. "I can't change it now. Death is a part of life." You said so simply. "Not in the way people are dying here, though."

That guilt he hadn't felt over any other player consumed him again.

"Anyway, I've been trying to pay the debts back since, I just can't. It's so hard. I've worked full time since graduating school and still, there's so much left to pay."

"You've been on your own since she passed?"

"For the most part." You answered honestly. He started to realise you had been living with the same loneliness he had.

He shouldn't have been surprised to find out you weren't here for greed. It wasn't even your own debt to pay back, just one that had unfortunately been left to you. Of course his good girl wouldn't be like the rest of the selfish people who compete in this contest. He wanted to scoop you up and get you out of these games now, but people would see.

Holding your eye contact, his gaze was serious. "I need you to stay by my side in the next game, okay?"

You frowned. "What if I can't?" You questioned, remembering how you got split up playing the six-legged game, luckily both your teams survived.

"You must," He paused, moving his hand that was on your face to grab one of your hands instead. "I won't drop your hand, don't drop mine."

You looked down to where his hand engulfed yours, squeezing your fingers around his, he mimicked the action. "It could be a solo game, right? What will we do then?"

How could he tell you he knew what was coming? How could he tell you he designed this next game to be so deadly? How could he tell you he knew that carnage would take place? How could he without ruining what amazing thing was forming between you both that he so desperately wanted to hold onto?

"We'll just have to see when we get in the arena."

You nodded and suddenly your mind was whirring. You were trying your hardest to think of what was to come today, your breathing got shallower. In-ho noticed your overthinking kick in, and he once again squeezed his fingers around yours.

"Hey, I will keep you safe."

"What if you can't even keep yourself safe?"

"I will be fine."

"How do you know?" Your eyes shot back to his, worry was written all over your face. You were worried for yourself, but now you were worried for him, for the people you'd grown closer to over the past few days here.

He didn't have an answer for you, at least one he couldn't admit to you. Not yet. So you spoke again. "I don't want to compete anymore, Young-il."

"I know. I don't either." That was honesty, he really didn't want to, especially not anymore now that he had you to think of.

"I wish we could escape." You sighed.

It was his turn for his mind to whir. He started having an internal battle then, over if he should confess who he was and get you out right now before too many people woke up.

"We just need to get through this next game and then surely we'll win the vote to leave." He decided against confessing. You still knew him as Young-il, not even his real name - In-ho - how could you handle everything else there was to learn about him?

"You really think we'll make it through?"

"Yes, I won't let anything happen to you."

---

The curtains opened to a colourful room, a big round platform stood in the middle of the room. As your eyes darted around the room, anxiety started to fill you.

That was when Player 001 grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Remember?" He said, you turned to look at him, nodding quickly. Knowing he was talking about not dropping each others hands. He could already see the terror written across your face. Guilt started to fill him.

As you were all walking towards the platform, the announcement was made over what the game would be. Mingle.

255 was displayed. The amount of players currently. "If they're displaying the contestant count, that must mean a lot of us are going to die, right? They want us to see that number go down." You said out loud, the group of players you'd grown closer to who were all standing around you, turned towards you. They knew you were right, it was a dark truth.

"No matter what happens, we must stay calm." In-ho spoke up, directing it to the whole group but he gave your hand a slight tug.

The platform began spinning. Your chest went tight, so did your grip around In-ho's hand.

Ten.

Everyone started forming groups, the lights were flashing. You knew you needed four more in your team to make the count. "Player 120!" You found your voice, spotting that they were a group of four.

"Run! Green door!"

It all happened so fast, but it also felt so slow. Your heart was thundering. But you were inside and the door was locked, you'd made it, you were safe.

At the sound of gunshots you jumped and turned towards the direction the noise had come in, only to met with the horrifying sight of all the contestants who hadn't made it into a room being shot to death through the little gap in the door. The colour started to drain from your face.

"Don't look." In-ho's commanding voice sounded out as he pulled you into him, placing his hands over your ears to block out the noise of the gunshots for you as much as he could. You squeezed your eyes shut.

Time seemed to move extra slow being in that room, and you knew it was because they had to move all the dead bodies away. There was enough that it was taking so long.

That was when the announcer started listing off the players that had been eliminated, the door was unlocked and you all started to exit.

You froze as a squelch noise sounded out under your shoe as you took a step. You made an audible gasp at the giant pool of blood on the floor underneath you. It was enough that you could see your own reflection in it. "Young-il." You squeezed his hand, he still hadn't let go of you.

"Look at me." You lifted your head at the sound of his voice. "You made it through, you're safe. We'll make it through again." He was so calm for you, you were so grateful.

Four. Was the next round.

168 was the amount of players left. Almost 100 people had died only after two rounds.

Three. Was the next round. This was when people really started to turn on one another, pushing, kicking, punching each other to form groups to survive. Pulling people out of rooms so they could have it, leaving the others to die. Player 001 and Player 456 made sure you got into a room with them.

You weren't doing well by this point. You couldn't take in a full breath, you were so overwhelmed. You'd never heard so many gun shots, you'd never seen so much blood, so much death. You were trying your hardest to keep a clear mind but it was feeling nearly impossible.

"I can't do this anymore." You said out loud.

In-ho and Gi-hun turned to look at you.

"I know it's hard, but you have to, (Y/N)." Player 456 said as he placed his hand on your shoulder.

"There's only likely to be a couple more rounds." Player 001 spoke this time, he knew exactly how many more were coming. "We've made it this far, we'll get through the next rounds. Remember, just keep hold of my hand." He spoke very clearly wanting to make sure you heard him, it was visible on your face that you were struggling to remain present.

Six.

There was seven of you. Everyone frantically looked around the circle.

"Should we split up?" Player 390 suggested.

"Is there enough players left to do that?" You questioned.

"I'll go." Player 001, spoke, you turned to look at him so fast your neck made a crack.

"No."

"I'll be okay." He assured you, placing your hand into Dae-ho's despite the jealous monster inside him wanting to snatch it back right away. You didn't know it but he was putting you first, he would be okay sneaking off and hiding in a room on his own, the Frontman wouldn't get killed. You wouldn't make it trying to form a new group now. "Don't let go of her." In-ho commanded him.

"Of course, sir." Dae-ho responded, quickly grabbing your hand tight.

Before you had a chance to protest, he was gone. He'd left you.

"Young-il!" You called out, but you'd already lost him.

"We have to hurry!" Player 456 yelled out, all of you moving quick towards a free room.

You turned your head over your shoulder to see if you could spot Player 001. That was when you were lifted up, your hand being ripped from Dae-ho's as you got dragged away.

"Sorry, we need her more!" Thanos held you tight in his arms, pulling you to a different room.

"No!" Dae-ho yelled out, but he was already being pulled by Jung-bae.

"Let me go!" You tried to fight against Thanos, but he was stronger.

You were pulled into a room at the last second and the door was locked behind you. As the men you were in the room with cheered, you cowered into the back corner.

You didn't know if any of your friends had made it, what if the five you were supposed to be with didn't find their sixth?

What if Player 001 hadn't found a group to go with?

What if you were truly on your own here.

You slid down the wall, you felt like you wanted to pass out. Your body trembled, your face went white, your head felt heavy and your body felt light. You were having a panic attack.

---

"Gi-hun!" In-ho called out upon seeing him exit a room. He had a smile on his face.

Gi-hun didn't return it.

Player 001 watched as everyone else left the room. When the sixth person wasn't you, he panicked, but his panic showed with rage.

"Where is she?!" Instantly he lunged at Dae-ho, grabbing him by the collar.

"I don't know! I'm sorry! I had her hand but someone just grabbed her and took her so fast. Time was running out, I'm sorry Young-il!"

"I told you not to let go of her!" He shook Player 388. What he really wanted to do was snap his neck.

“Looking for your girl?" Thanos interrupted, bouncing over to the group like he was having the time of his life. "She's in that room over there. She’s having a full mental breakdown. Baby girl can’t handle it!”

Just as In-ho began to make a move towards the room, an announcement was made.

“All remaining players must return to the platform, immediately.”

Guards moved to usher the players towards the platform, one stepped into the room that you were in, In-ho surged forward. A guard stepped directly in front of him.

“Let me help her! I’ll get her out here with the rest of us!” He yelled, his calm demeanour completely shattered at the thought of losing you.

“Just kill her! She won’t make it through the next round anyway.” Someone from the platform yelled out. In-ho turned to see who it was, knowing he'd want to remember that face. He was going to pay.

“It’ll be more money for all of us.” Player 100. The eldest man here joined in. If In-ho didn't have you as his top priority, he would have grabbed the guards gun and shot them both dead. These were the disgusting, evil, selfish displays of humans that made him keep the games running.

"Let me get her, she doesn't deserve to die for being scared." He commanded, his voice strong, still angry but more balanced. Finally the guard stepped to the side.

As In-ho approached the room he heard you begging the guard, “Just kill me, please kill me.” His heart broke.

Instantly he dropped to his knees before you. "(Y/N)," He cradled your face in his hands, angling your head up to look at him. It pained him to see the state you were in. So much horror showed on your face, he knew today was going to leave with permanent emotional scars. He'd spend his lifetime trying to heal them.

"Young-il," Your eyes went wide, you looked at him in disbelief for a few moments before you leapt forward, swinging your arms around his neck. "I thought you died."

He wrapped his arms around you so tightly, holding you against him. "I'm here, I'm sorry for not staying with you."

"Don't leave me again. You let go of my hand. Don't let me go again."

"I won't, baby. I promise I won't." He could feel your body shake, he could feel your quick and uneven breaths. He'd never second guessed being the Frontman until this moment. How could he have put you through this? "You're okay, you're alive. We're almost done, then I'm getting you out of here."

You nodded against him, your face buried in his neck.

"Put your legs around me, okay?" His hands landed on your thighs and he aided in wrapping them around his hips. "I'm going to hold you through the next round. Keep your limbs gripped strong, can you do that?" You nodded. "I need to hear you, (Y/N), I need to know you understand."

"Yes."

"Good girl. Alright, one, two, three-" He grunted as he stood up, taking you with him, his arms were wrapped tight around you, holding you in place. Your had your arms locked his neck and your legs locked around his hips, clinging to him out of pure terror.

Running to a room was going to be hard like this. He turned his head away from you, whispering directly to the guard.

“I’m going to run towards the yellow door, make sure it is locked until I'm right by it, then unlock it." His voice was very quiet, but the coldness in his tone was unmissable.

“But-“ The guard began to respond.

“Do it. Nothing happens to her.” The Frontman cut off his guard. This was a demand that was non-negotiable. Once he was walking back towards the platform, he could feel the eyes of the other contestants locked onto the two of you. A few gasps sounded out, a few muttered comments. He blocked them all out. You were his top priority in this current moment.

“Young-il, are you alright holding her? I can take her from you if you need.” Dae-ho asked once you were back on the platform, in Player 001's arms. You dared to peek your eyes open, spotting Dae-ho and everyone else, relieved they were alive.

“I’ve got her. I’m not letting her go.” In-ho kept his gaze forward, fighting the urge to call him an idiot for suggesting such a thing when he couldn't even keep ahold of your hand last round.

Two.

Chaos started, this was the worst people had acted yet. As In-ho immediately took off in a sprint, you watched over his shoulder in horror as people turned on one another. You tightened your grip around him, and he did on you in response.

Player 001 managed to dodge most of the frenzy taking place, it was almost a clean run right to the yellow room. He reached out his arm towards the door handle, his hand was almost touching it when someone slammed into the two of you. You flung out of his arms and crashed into the floor with a thud.

In-ho watched in rage as the same player then tripped over you, kicking you in your side as he fell over. If he didn't have to get you in the room so quickly, he would have killed him.

"Come here." Adrenaline surged through him as he swooped down to pick you up again. You groaned, your ribs in so much pain from the fall and kick. Tears filled his eyes, a range of emotions swirled through him. Rage for what you were going through, guilt that he was the reason this was happening to you, frustration that he couldn't just free you from it right now.

Finally, he carried you into the room, he placed you down on your feet, and turned to shut and lock the door.

"Young-il," Immediately he snapped his head around to see what had caught your attention. It was him, the man who first said to kill you. He must have snuck in when you fell to the floor.

Rage. Rage. Rage. It was all the Frontman felt as he neared the man.

"(Y/N), close your eyes and cover your ears."

You did as he said, part of you knew what he was going to do already, but part of you wanted to act like it wasn't real. With your eyes squeezed shut and your hands clasped over your ears, your tried your hardest to ignore the snapping sound, but it still made you flinch.

You flinched again at the feeling of bigger hands being placed over yours that were still pressing down on your ears. "It's me." Player 001 assured you. "Keep your eyes closed for a little longer, I'll tell you when to open them, but you made it, you're okay. The game is over now."

"Young-il, did you..." You let your voice trail off, afraid of an answer you already knew anyway.

"I did what I had to do to keep you alive."

[wagconts]

F1 Alert | Formula 1

➤ summary :: Where you create an interactive game for Formula 1 fans, and become the new star of the pits.

➤ warnings :: a quick imagine, with prior development.

➤ word count :: 0.839 words

➤ masterlist | sportify

➤ Notes :: I had this idea because Swifitie fans know about "Swift Alert", which was a game where we bet on the clothes from The Eras Tour. So I wanted to bring this into the context of Formula 1.

Working on F1's social media was a daily grind, but you loved every second of it. Between creating posts, planning content, and keeping up with trends, your mind was always spinning, thinking of ways to make fans feel more connected to the drivers. Then, one brainstorming night, the idea hit: an interactive game where fans could bet on little details of the race weekends.

— What if we created something like a more elaborate 'Fantasy F1,' but focusing on the small stuff? Helmets, suits, celebrations... — you suggested, drawing curious looks from the team. — We could call it 'F1 Alert'.

After a few weeks of planning, meetings, and tweaks, the app was ready. It was simple: fans could make predictions about visual and behavioral items about the drivers before the GPs. Each correct guess earned points, which could be redeemed for virtual prizes or discounts on official products.

On launch day, you were nervous. Would it be a hit or a flop? It only took a few hours to get the answer: it was a phenomenon.

The app had questions that kept fans hooked, especially with the fact that those points were worth something.

— Leclerc’s helmet in Monaco: same as always or something special?

— Which driver will complain the most on the radio?

— How many drivers will retire from the race? And who?

The numbers didn’t lie. In the first weekend, a little over 70 thousand people signed up. And the drivers quickly took notice.

At the pre-GP press conference, Russell was the first to mention it:

— Did you guys see that app? F1 Alert? Are you betting on my training suit now? That’s a lot of pressure! — he joked, drawing laughs.

Next to him was Charles, who also smiled.

— I saw it too. Someone bet my helmet will have gold on it. — he made a confused face. — Gold? I don’t know if I’m that fancy.

You didn’t realize the impact would be so big until that moment. Seeing the drivers talk about something you created was surreal. But things got even more intense in the paddock.

At the Italian GP, while you were tweaking a post backstage, Pierre showed up out of nowhere behind you.

— So, you’re the one behind the app? — he asked, crossing his arms with a big grin.

You laughed, a little startled.

— It depends. If you like it, then yes. If not, marketing came up with it.

— Oh, I like it. But now I have to think of new helmets every week, because I don’t want the fans to get bored. — He winked before walking off, leaving you laughing alone.

The F1 Alert craze grew with each race. Fans’ discussions on social media were massive, and even journalists started mentioning the game in their reports. Some drivers, like Norris, began directly engaging with the fans.

— Do you think I’ll use a special helmet in Singapore? Place your bets on the app. — he smiled at the line of fans in the stands.

Meanwhile, you started getting recognized in the paddock. It wasn’t something you expected, but the drivers and teams now knew who you were. At the Las Vegas GP, Max Verstappen stopped you during a technical meeting with a rare smile.

— Just wanna know... Who was the creative genius that put “Max will smile on the podium” in the game?

You tried to keep your composure but ended up laughing.

— My bad. Sorry, but it was irresistible.

— Well, I hope no one bets on that. It’ll be money down the drain. — he joked.

The interactions with the drivers became more frequent, but the peak came at the last GP of the year, when the season had ended and some fans were satisfied with their scores on the game. And the burning question was whether the game would continue the next year.

During the final press conference, Daniel Ricciardo — who was making a special appearance as a third driver — decided to mention you.

— I wanna thank the person behind F1 Alert. Thanks to them, I’m already thinking about how to celebrate before I even know if I’ll be on the podium.

The cameras zoomed in on you in the corner of the room, as everyone laughed. It was the moment you realized how much your idea had impacted the world of Formula 1.

After that GP, you got nicknames in the paddock: “the pit star,” “the mind behind the game,” among others. And while you tried to stay grounded, you couldn’t deny that the app’s success had put you in the spotlight.

Now, you were more than just another face in the paddock. You’d built an incredible bond with the fans who always asked you questions like, “What’s the next update for the game?” and you’d made amazing friendships with some of the drivers. It was all like a dream. F1 Alert was just the beginning.

[saphig-iawn]

A Maid Doll's "Day Off"

My special doll took a very big leap with me today. It wanted to have its first narrative hypnosis session.

It had blossomed under my care, changing its boundaries when it felt comfortable, really enjoying the safe space I had built for it to explore hypnosis and dollhood.

It came to and explicity stated it wanted something full bodied and powerful. It had waited so patiently for me to come off my break and it was ready to be woven into a story that changed every part of it.

After discussing ideas, it loved the idea of being completely reduced to nothing but a toy to be used however I see fit.

I was so proud of it for wanting to give so much of it to me to look after, to reshape and rewire. So we discussed a little more, focus on some fine details and we began.

It wanted to try gentle fractionation with me, and I firmly believe that that is one of the best ways to go down for a long session of sensual storytelling.

It had been such a good maid doll for me while I was away so it was only fitting that our story was about giving it a day off, a day off in the way that only Miss Saphi could provide.

After taking it on a gentle walk through gentle fractionation, nestling it in my lap and weaving a ribbon around it, we began our tale.

It found itself in the rustic kitchen of my beautiful house, the kitchen that lead into the conservatory where I loved to paint the pretty things that stayed in my home.

There was a pile of dishes in the basin, but it didn't mind. It liked serving the house and serving me. It loved how its uniform and dress helped it sink into servitude even more.

It could hear other dolls in the house, tottering about their business. Some were maids like it, others were playing with other dolls, some were just toys, mindless going about their day under whatever spell I wove into them.

Then its vision turns dark.

It freezes in place, like a good doll does.

Its shoulders ease and melt as my voices curls into its ear and mind.

"You've been such a good maid doll darling, you work so hard and every doll in here appreciates all you do. But we all think its time you had a break."

It felt itself being lifted up, as more arms entered its sensory periphery. What the maid doll didn't see as it was carried out of the kitchen was another doll taking up its old station at the sink.

The rustic warm light of the kitchen gave way to cascading natural sunlight that spilled through the skylights of the tall main hallway. It had walked this hallway a lot, dusting the ornamentations and finery. This was the first time it was carried through. It could hear all kinds of play in the connecting playrooms. Out of sight were rubber dolls cavorting in shiny bliss, pliable blank dolls stood in bright pink display boxes, drones undergoing maintenance.

When it could finally see, it found itself in a playroom. A beautiful high ceilinged space, with two couches in the centre of the room. A low table sat between them, rings attached to its corners. The maid doll's mind raced with the idea of being put on display as a centrepiece and strapped down so it couldn't move.

I had a different plan for this doll.

I entered the room, and stood in front of the maid doll.

I began to undress it.

Every button unbottened, every lace unlaced, every fastener undone, heightened its arousal. A breath caught in each moment.

Soon its uniform was pooled at the floor, but a swift clap from my hands prompted two dolls to enter the room, gather the uniform, and neatly fold it and place it on one of the couches.

Then we all began to caress its tired doll body.

The dolls pay attention to its arms and legs, running nails up and down its skin, drawing lines of erotic sensation. I paid my attention to the rest of the doll. Its moans were so delicious, I could sense just how much it had worked and toiled. How much tension it held in its joints. Sometimes it liked that, that it was doing good work and there signs of its diligence on its skin. But sometimes it can lead to overwork, to putting aside the rest. Sometimes such a diligent doll needs to made to have a break.

A click rang out through the room.

The doll gasped as it felt the dolls starting to push on its hands and feet.

A slick surface began to press against its behind, its hands and feet. Then it moved... through? Like it was sinking into water and the surface tension was shaping to its body.

It looked at its hands to see that the dolls had pressed them into shining black latex. It had begun to envelop and suspend them, like a standing vacuum bed.

It turned back to say something to me, but it was met by hand on its cheek, and with a single smoothe across it's lips, its lips had been reduced to flat shining latex.

It moaned in pleasure, the burden of speaking so swiftly and lovingly lifted left room within its mind for more pleasure. It pulled at its rubber bonds, but the elasticity sprung its arms back out wide.

I took great pleasure in watching it writhe and buck in its new rubber prison. I placed my hand on its doll parts and began to rub and stroke. I couldn't help but bite my lip at the stifled moans it was making.

It could feel the rubber beginning to spread, slinking its way up its body. When I felt it reach its doll parts, I decided to make a little fantasy of the doll's come true. I buried my fingers deep into its folds and stroked and stroked, stretching it out into a perfect fuck hole. I then began working at its clit, caressing it, coaxing it out. As it began to swell, I changed my hand's motion from caressing to stroking, enlarging it, engorging it into a sensitive rubber shaft.

Its eyes widened as new sensations spread like wildfire across its body, and when a doll shows such powerful emotion I can't help but capture it. I press my hands into its face and spread the rubber further, turning its head into a sweet rubber facsimile.

The other dolls began to work too, spreading the rubber further still.

Soon the maid doll was now just a rubber toy, sealed to a vacbed.

It shuddered as I snapped my fingers again.

It quivered and trembled as the dolls now began to tease and play with its rubber body. Kissing, biting, teasing, pinching, stroking, rubbing.

An avalanche of arousal crashed into the rubber toy's mind.

But we were not done.

The final touch was to completely smooth out its face. A vague humanoid shape. A hint at what used to be there.

Its moans were so changed now, they almost felt like simple vibrations through its rubber facade.

It was so lost in pleasure, every hole and part being used and used and used. It had no idea how much time had passed, how many people and dolls were using it. All of those hazy thoughts parted when it felt something it had been longing for.

My length entering its hole. I pushed deep until my stomach was pushing its rubber cock flat to its tummy. Every rut, every thrust filled its hole and rubbed its cock.

Even though entirely rubber, it could feel a climax beginning to build. Every single atom of itself was growing in pleasure, united in the rubber that bound it together. Every part of it was feeling the climax approach and there was no stopping it. It was just a toy after all now, it had no say on whether or not it was going to cum or how many times. They were just byproducts of being such a good toy for all the dolls and for me.

(This writing is about a real hypnosis session with real hypnosis and real people. If you would like to see more writing like this, then please support me over at https://ko-fi.com/saphig, where you can also commission 1-on-1 hypnosis sessions and have your own piece of writing just like this!)

[buzzingroyalty]

how to grub your karkat

or you can use this for any other plush or if you wanna make a whole new plush entirely or whatever

disclaimer im not a professional in any sense of the word and theres anything technical im doing wrong or you think you can do it better by all means dont hold back

Things you’ll need

sewing machine unless youre really dedicated but doing it by hand is gonna be an agonizing feat i promise. I just used a straight stitch for everything

Fabrics: for the main body i suggest a minky or something soft, for the inner lining something in the same color as the main body and ideally with some stretch, and anything black for the legs. Less than a yard of each will do

if youre using minky or anything furry get a lint roller. Trust me

stuffing, i used polyfil

threads that match your fabrics

good fabric scissors

sewing needle for hand sewing/fixes

karkat plush (optional)

Heres the pattern i came up with! They are numbered for your convenience and pieces with the same numbers are going to be part of the same row of segments. cut everything out on the black lines (Make sure when you’re printing to fit the image to the page size.) on the left we have the belly pieces, the right is the main body, and we have the foot in between

Im using a relatively thin minky fabric, im sure you can use whatever but something with some fluffiness kinda helps to mask any imperfections in the sewing. When drawing out your patterns keep in mind what direction your fibers settle in and try to keep it consistent

On the wrong side of the fabric measure out at least a half inch seam allowance around each piece of the pattern, i used a centimeter and that worked but had me sweatin a bit.

For the main body pieces fold your fabric in half before you cut so you can have 2 of each segment that are mirrored to each other, i also extended all of the #1 pieces an additional centimeter/half inch at the top so we can fold them over at the very end. I highly suggest numbering the insides of all the cut pieces, especially in a way where you will remember what direction they are each meant to sit

After you’ve numbered all your pieces, set them aside and start making your feet!

Each of the 6 legs is made of two pieces, but i because i only had a swatch of the black minky i made up for the rest with some random black scrap fabric from an old project. Try to keep your fabric consistent if you can lol

I didnt give these pieces any more seam allowance on the fabric but i recommend adding a centimeter or half inch to the base of it to extend the length and have some more wiggle room

like so

Instead of cutting out 12 individual pieces and struggling to stitch them all together i started with 6, then pinning each piece real tight with the right/furry side down onto my secondary fabric, and slowly stitching around the shape real close to the edges- DO NOT CLOSE THE FLAT SIDE as we are going to stuff the feet through here

Now cut the shape out of the fabric and repeat till you have 6 feet

Now flip those bad boys inside out, stuff up, and if you wanna you can match them to their best pairs

now grab a pair of feeties and your #1 pieces and line them up, in this picture my belly #1 piece is shorter bc i forgot to add the extra centimeter and i recut that once i realized. Line those sides up with the right/furry parts touching and with the feet in between, flip it around to make sure everything's sitting the way you want it

Note. i didnt realize until later but i sewed my feet in upside down. save yourself the time it takes to fix it and dont make the same mistake

Straight stitch these layers together and repeat with the next two segments our good friends #2 & #3

Repeat this for the #2 and #3 sections but NOT THE #4, that part doesnt need feet! just line those edges up right/furry sides together and sew

the secret to the squish of the suit is making this inner lining from another fabric and stuffing it! I used what i had leftover from a stretchy red fabric for a kanaya skirt. For this we need to make a new pattern for each section, making sure it follows the curve of the round edge but the piece itself is shorter, almost like youre removing the seam allowance you added. Mine is a centimeter shorter on the top and on the bottom and reaches to the middle

Make one of these for each numbered segment,you only need to make half the pattern and you can fold your fabric in half on a crease and you end up with one symmetrical piece (bars)

Now you need to pin these pieces right on top of the wrong side of your numbered furry sections and line up the straight edges like so (disclaimer for LOTS OF SCARY NEEDLES !!)

Admittedly i didnt estimate how long these pieces needed to be very accurately and overshot it a bit, if you start pinning it from the middle and continue outwards on either side thatll ensure its not too lose and you can cut off any excess after

The only exception is piece #1, if you recall we gave this #1 section extra seam allowance. This is so we can sew down that excess at the neck later and hide any of the inside that might show once its all put together. Do not connect the top edge to the inner lining! Since i added an extra centimeter earlier im gonna leave that hanging and pin + sew down the inner lining a centimeter lower than the top edge. LEAVE THE CURVED EDGES OPEN! DONT SEW THEM TOGETHER! those stay open to stuff

Straight stitch the lined up edges together

Now you have all these skinned pieces of little freak and we need to connect all these segments together making sure to sew UNDER the existing stitches so we dont see those on the outside when its all put together

Inside looks like a bit of a mess but thats fine bc its not the part that matters

Now stuff it! you might need a stick or pencil or something long and thin to get stuffing into the middle bits

Now thats its stuffed you can finally close those curved edges. Try not to sew over a thick mound of stuffing, push it in a little further to give yourself some space and you can fluff it back out after everythings closed. I cut off that excess lining fabric after sewing

Ough… they filleted my boy…

Finally, match up all the edges and lines and HAND SEW them right sides together. You will destroy your machine trying to work around that stuffing i promise. You also have an excuse to get up from your work desk and sew on a couch or smth. I used a standard backstitch for a tight finish and again, make sure you sew under any existing stitches so they arent visible on the outside!

Speaking of the outside, once you stitch everything together you can very gently flip this sucker inside out

This is @hatamonu’s cat Cocaina, aka Coco. Her perfectly square figure made it into my grub files somehow so shes essential to the tutorial

Check the fit and all thats left to do is roughly baste stitch down that excess neck fabric onto the stuffed lining and youre set! I gave the thread slight tugs as i went to tighten the opening a bit put dont tighten it too much

tadaaaaa

It fits pretty snug but starts to slip a bit with motion. Heres a bounce test

 If you do shake your baby make sure to safety pin the plush to the suit so he doesnt prematurely shed his exosekeleton

Now spread that baby fever and show your baby to the world

pics from the ALA 2025 homestuck meetup and supplied by para.dox.cos

Tysm for coming along this ride with me especially if you followed the prototype journey on twitter, much thanks to my more sewing savvy friend for the solution to my grub dilemma and for helping me design and build my dolorosa cosplay <3 much love and hopefully many more homestuck cosplays and meetups to come in the future!

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

Could you do a one-shot where alastor is super nervous when meeting reader, not really on his face but more his body language where when she shakes his hand he continues shaking it or doesn't let go immediately. nervous smile too lol, thanks love your stuff!!

Heeey I wrote it hope you don't mind some interpretation on my part! You didn't mention why Alastor was nervous so I just did whatever ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tags: Oblivious Alastor, Cartoonist Writer, Humor, awkward affection, Alastor is either oblivious or in-denial, Nifty is Nifty and you should all love her

-----------------------

Alastor’s introduction to you was not a willing one. Charlie had started a bit of a bookclub at the Hotel as some odd attempt at bonding. Alastor wanted no part of it, but after the 532nd time Charlie asked him he said something particularly scathing and the princess was cruel and told Vaggie, and the ex-exorcist would NOT stop stabbing his door until he finally relented.

Of course, his choice of book was one called ‘Blank’. It was a notebook with nothing written in it. Very easy to discuss at a bookclub.

Charlotte was not impressed and Vagatha once again starting throwing vague threats in his direction. How tempted he was to just kill both of them, but alas this hotel has been the greatest form of entertainment he’s had in years (is what he tells himself.)

Darling Nifty came to his rescue, offering up a variety of different light-reading to be discussed in the future. Most of which were….not to his taste. Nifty’s interests highlighted most definitely, but Alastor quickly chucked the books out the window when the story turned to ….that.

As the number of books dwindled, he was just about prepared to give up on this stack entirely and fetch something meaningless to pretend to read (who’d check, anyway?).

He picked up one, a flimsy comic-book like thing and rolled his eyes once before giving it a go. The story wasn’t anything particularly interesting. The plot was just two bunnies going to get some ice cream. But the wordplay, the exaggeration of all the smallest obstacles, how self-aware and absurd it was gave him a good laugh. The Radio Demon’s first introduction to your work.

Although the bookclub idea ended up going nowhere, Alastor found himself seeking out more of your works. Another about a man just making a taco, one about a woman folding her laundry. So many little, day-to-day situations amplified to a ridiculous amount. Clever one-liners and humorous puns sprinkled throughout kept it intelligent enough for him to maintain interest despite the absurdity of it all.

Eventually he got a cartoon you drew that seemed just the same as the rest. Some random cute cartoon raccoon drawing some random little cartoon things. There was a scene in it though that stuck to Alastor’s mind (and dare he say, heart) like glue.

In it, the raccoon was confronted by a shark. “Why do you bother making these?” the shark sneered “No one reads these but you, no one looks at them but you, there’s no point.”

“Why does there need to be a point?” The raccoon said. Alastor’s ears straightened up on their own accord as he read “Even if no one sees it, it’s something I made and it’s some I enjoyed making.”

“Even if you put it out there, no one will care about it.”

“Someone will. They might not say anything but there’ll always be at least one.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound? No one gives a crap about your ‘passions’!”

“I do.”

“Do you know how stupid you sound-“

And then the raccoon pressed a button and an anvil fell onto the shark, comedically turning it into a pancake. “Your argument doesn’t have any depth.” The raccoon said. The story moved on from there.

It struck a bit of a chord with Alastor, he could admit that much to himself. And the raccoon’s way of dealing it was something he’d keep in mind for his next encounter with an annoyance. He didn’t put much stock in it, as storytellers and their stories don’t always agree on all things.

Your comics were a little joyful distraction when he needed them, that was all. Nothing deep and profound.

“BOSS!”

Alastor slammed shut the book he was reading, his grin never faltering though his twitching ears indicated a slight nervousness. He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Hello, Nifty! Did you need something?”

Nifty scamped up his chair and onto his lap, settling down andstaring up at him with her one big eye. “BOSS BOSS BOSS BOSS I MET THE DEMONESS WHO DRAWS THOSE CARTOONS YOU LIKE”

Alastor’s eye twitched “Oh? Well, that’s neat.”

She stood up, squishing his face between her hands and stared more as her grin grew wider and more manic “Did you want to meet her?”

Yes

“Now, now, Nifty.” Alastor said as he removed her hands from his face “There’s better ways to waste one’s time.”

Nifty tilted her head, staring at him as though it would allow her to see into his mind. Her expression shifted into….One he hadn’t seen on Nifty, admittedly. The best way he could describe it was ‘smug’. But what would she have to be smug about?”

“If you say so, Boss!” She chirped, hopping off his lap and trotting off “But yeah I was at the Evermore Book-Store and she was there working ‘cause I guess that’s what she does for a livng….” Nifty’s voice faded away as the little maid walked off, not caring her rambling were being said to no one.

After Alastor had finished his errands for the day, he happened by that very store…for…Reasons. Upon entering it, he realized he had no idea who- what- he was looking for. The store itself wasn’t large. A couple patrons, one large hulking demon with tiny spectacles at the desk and a much smaller one organizing shelves.

One of the workers, then?

Not that he cared.

“Pardon me!” Alastor chirped to the desk demon. Their big eyes seemed to move in slow motion to him, a low grunt accompanying the acknowledgement. “I’m looking for someone, yes? The author of some silly comics?”

The demon slowly narrowed their eyes, lips curling up into a snarl as a growl emanated from them.

“Ah, so she is here?”

The demon planted their very large hands on the desk, pushing themselves up to stand at their full height. They were taller than Alastor by a good three feet, and much more muscular as well. Their nostrils flared, blowing hot air into his face.

Alastor wasn’t the slightest bit phased. (He found it funny, actually). “So may I speak to her?”

The large demon opened up their gaping jaw-

“That’s me, hi! How can I help you?” The shelf-stacking demon interrupted, getting between Alastor and the clerk demon. A nervous little lady with a wobbly unsure smile and bags under her eyes that looked like they could carry the entirety of Hell in them.

Alastor held up one of your comics- a book that has been very obviously well-read “You’re the creator of these splendid little things?”

“Splendid…?” You repeated him, trailing off into an amused snort “Er. Yeah, I wrote and drew those.” The Clerk behind you closed their mouth, setting back down on their chair and adjusting their spectacles. The glare didn’t leave Alastor.

“Well, my dear, I find I quite enjoy them! It’s quite a pleasure to meet you.” Alastor said, not paying the larger (glowering) demon any mind. He found himself wondering why you were so tired and so timid. A woman like you should be so much more cheerful! Alastor was a tad offended….Because you weren’t smiling like he did. That’s it. Really.

“Well. I’m glad you like them.” You said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” You offered your hand for him to shake.

One of his ears twitched. You must be fairly new to Hell, to offer a handshake so easily. Or perhaps a bit sheltered or on the naïve side. Alastor briefly considered making a sly deal to take your soul, but… Well, there was no need for that.

He took your hand and gave it a firm shake. Your hand was so much smaller than his own, but it felt as though it warmed his entire body. This was strange. Perhaps you were casting some spells on him? Why was he finding it so hard to focus- why did he feel like he didn’t know what to say next- why-

The Clerk gripped Alastor’s arm in between two fingers, gently but assertively pulling it away from you. You took half a step back, cradling your arm to your chest as if he burned you. Alastor glared up at the Clerk “Is there a problem?”

The large demon growled. You intervened again “Er….You were just. Holding my hand for a while. It was……kind of weird.”

“Ah.” Alastor cleared his throat, straightening his posture with a flourish “My apologies! Mind was elsewhere, you know how it is with us creative types.”

You blinked. Then your timid smile turned a bit more confident. A bit more…like a smirk. “Er. Yeah, I guess so. Well. See you around, I guess?”

“If I have the time, I suppose!” Alastor grinned “Well then, I must be off! Ta-ta!”

You watched as the strange demon disappeared into shadows and slivered off. As soon as all trace of him was gone, you laughed quietly into your hand “Well, I can certainly say for certain I know someone ‘awkward as hell’ now.”

Your friend groaned, gently pushing you over as they continued their own work.

[illubean]

Nerd!Gojo x Goth!Reader

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: College!AU, Oneshot, Gn!Reader

part of a mini series of oneshots :3 lmk if you want a p2

Warnings: none? reader wears makeup/dresses but is still gn

For someone with the hobbies and interests of the likes of Satoru Gojo, he was pretty popular around campus. Men and women alike often talked about his looks, or the fact his family owned a large corporation, but what they didn't care to talk about was that Satoru Gojo was a complete loser.

Despite how popular or known he is, he only has about four friends and is the captain of the varsity E sports team for crying out loud. Not only that, but he was a computer science major..

Let's just say they're not really...known for good things.

Despite how nerdy and awkward he is, he still managed to draw attention to himself, whereas you preferred to separate from the masses. There was no doubt your dark, elaborate outfits and heavy makeup turned some heads while you roamed the corridors and quads, but other than that you've kept a relatively low profile. Though most people never really paid much mind to you aside from an initial glance, you managed to catch the eye of the aforementioned varsity E sports player.

He thought you were stunning.

From your flowing black dress and large boots to your eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch, the white haired boy was completely and utterly enamored with you. And when a dopey smile forms on Gojo's face and his head gets all spacey, that's when Geto and Shoko realize he's spotted you somewhere across the field. Despite almost everyone preferring the weekend, Gojo's favourite days were Mondays and Wednesdays.

The days you sat in front of him in creative writing.

He spent most of the class periods staring at the back of your head, leaning against his palm with hearts in his eyes as he fantasized about what it would be like to be yours. He would watch as you scribbled away in your notebook, perfecting your story for next week, which he always looked foreword to reading during critique. Gojo has never once had the courage to approach you directly, though. Your ethereal beauty scared him; there was no way someone as perfect as you would even spare him a passing glance.

So, his friends got to listen to him sigh and daydream about you with no end.

"Did you see their outfit today? That lacey corset compliments them so well. And that dark lipstick. I wonder if it's flavored-"

"Holy shit can you shut up? We get it, you like the goth kid," Shoko complained, taking a drag from her cigarette.

Geto chuckled at her annoyance before making a remark of his own.

"Instead of spending all this time wondering, why don't you actually go talk to them."

'You know I can't do that! They're just...they're just so cool," Gojo whined, shrinking into himself and resting his head against the table they were sat at.

"Tough luck then," Shoko said, putting her cigarette out before gathering her belongings and standing from her spot.

"I have to get to my bio lab."

"I should head off too. I have civics in 10 minutes. See ya, Satoru."

And with that, Gojo was left alone having already finished the last of his classes for the day.

Damn it. What do I do now?

Gojo pouted while he continued to sulk for a moment, pondering what he could do with the rest of his day. After a while of sifting through his options, the snowy haired male picked up his bag and made his way to the library.

Maybe I can check out the new VR center.

Gojo's mind began to wander as he thought about all the things he could try on VR. He was lost in thought, feet taking him down the halls of the library before stumbling into someone, the sound of books thudding against the floor snapping him from his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry about that," a soft voice spoke.

Upon raising his head, his eyes came in contact with a pair of (color) ones, his cheeks heating up slightly upon realizing who he just bumped into.

After a beat of silence, his eyes widened as he scrambled to help pick up all of the books you dropped, noticing one in particular that he recognized.

“...'Mythology of Ancient Civilizations’?” Gojo asked before realizing how silly he must have sounded.

You raised an eyebrow. “You familiar?”

Gojo nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ve read it like… five times. I mean, the whole concept of storytelling through myths is incredible. The gods and monsters… They’re like the first fantasy novels, you know?”

Your mouth twitched into a small smile, intrigued at his words.

“Huh. I didn’t take you for someone who’d read stuff like this.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t look it,” Gojo chuckled, scratching the back of his head nervously. “I’m usually more into… y’know, video games and stuff.”

“I could tell,” You comment, motioning towards his street fighter T-shirt. He looked down towards what he was wearing before his face flushed with embarrassment, sinking into himself as you chuckled at him.

"Gojo, right? You're in my creative writing class. I assume you like story telling, huh?"

The male's face lit up at this, before going on a tirade about the topic.

"I love story telling! I'm a computer science major and I'm trying to be a game dev which is why I'm taking creative writing. My favorite types of games are RPGs, like the LOZ franchise or Final Fantasy. They're not just about shooting stuff or solving puzzles, but they're interactive worlds that should matter just as much as books or movies! I'm actually working on a game right now about-" he cut himself off, seeing you now had a sly smirk stretched across your face.

Feeling shy once again, he cast his gaze down before saying "Sorry. I kind of went on a rant there..."

You let out a small, melodic laugh at this.

"It's okay, you're passionate about something. I think that's cute."

His heart fluttered at your words while his blue eyes wandered everywhere but to meet yours. He realized he was still holding on to your books, and he rushed to hold them out to you.

"Uh- sorry again. Here."

You gently took the books from him, fingers slightly brushing past his, setting off the butterflies in his stomach.

Their skin is so soft...

"Well, I'd love to hear about your game sometime, but I gotta get going. You free friday?"

Gojo couldn't believe his ears. You were asking him to hang out!?

"Um- yeah! I have practice from 1-3 though..."

"And by practice, you mean playing League of Legends for 2 hours?" you teased.

He nodded, slightly embarrassed by this.

"Meet me at 4 then. See ya!"

You sauntered past him, waving as you made your way towards the exit.

No way.

I have a date!

[notlongtolove]

thanks to the light you shower

it flashed a muted grey, understated but stark as ever in the dim of your living room—blocked. you stared at it, blinking like it might change with every refresh. it never did. you thought, maybe you should’ve seen that coming, too. if she can leave—what’s to stop spencer from walking away too? what’s keeping him here?

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: angst, hurt comfort

content: based on this ask! reader spirals during a friendship breakup and spencer is there to comfort and reassure her tldr spencer reid best bf ever agenda lives on

word count: 3.3k

note: thank you sm for requesting, i hope you like it! also thank you to the ever so lovely @angellic4l and @floraisunwell for helping me proof read this !! <3 was feeling RUSTYYYY i didnt mean to format it like this but i came across a lovely little poem that i loved and hopefully you like it too!

a line: Nostalgia might make a good glue, holding the cracks together when things get shaky, but it’s never to be used as a foundation.

My notebook has remained blank for months thanks to the light you shower around me. I have no use for my pen, which lies languorously without grief. - ha jin

You hadn’t seen it coming.

Well, maybe you did. Lesser texts, lesser calls. Shorter silences that stretched and grew into no texts, no calls, nothing. You should have seen it coming.

What you hadn’t expected was the notification. It flashed a muted grey, understated but stark as ever in the dim of your living room—Blocked. You stared at it, blinking like it might change with every refresh. It never did. You thought, maybe you should’ve seen that coming, too.

You live in a house of cards, its edges delicately balanced with relics and routines you’ve spent years upholding—But houses of cards aren’t built to last. Nostalgia might make a good glue, holding the cracks together when things get shaky, but it’s never to be used as a foundation. 

You hadn’t planned for it to end like this. You’d planned for something else entirely. You’d thought through the steps before the call, rehearsed the words—openings, explanations, apologies, questions. Hi. Hello. I know it’s been a while. Did you forget about today? I waited. It’s okay; I didn’t mind waiting. You’d planned for every possible response, every tangent of the conversation. You’d even practised sharing the updates you were sure she’d care to hear. The call had been brief at best. Few words exchanged, each one clipped and hurtful nonetheless. You don’t make time anymore. You never make time. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not in the slightest. There was the trip you’d booked together five months ago. She’d said the tickets were refundable on the call, her words were painfully unbothered even then. The email with the refund had been the last thing she sent you. 

You’ve changed. Have you really? You’d wondered for hours afterwards. She said you did. Now, you’re starting to believe her.

You don’t hear Spencer come in. Don’t register the sound of his keys clinking against the counter or the soft thud of his bag hitting the floor. He’s standing there in the doorway for a moment, watching you sink deeper into the couch. Normally, you’d already be burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the familiar warmth of his hands sliding around you—But not today.

Today, you don’t move. So, he does.

It’s clear something is wrong, he just doesn't know what. Quietly and carefully, he sets aside the book you’d abandoned onto the coffee table and then slides onto the couch beside you. His arms find their way around you like they always do—one hand threading through your hair, the other drawing slow circles on your thigh.

You surprise the both of you by speaking first. “She cancelled the trip,” you say dryly, eyes unmoving from the hardwood floor even when he nuzzles his face into your hair. 

“Something came up?” Spencer asks innocently. 

You shake your head. “Just cancelled it,” you reply, flat and matter-of-fact. 

He starts to say something, but you cut him off. “She blocked me.”

That lands heavier than the rest. You feel Spencer still beside you, his hand pausing mid-circle on your thigh. For all the ways Spencer always seems to know what to say and how to say it, you know he doesn’t have an answer for this. 

She’s been in your life longer than he has. Perhaps the one person who knows you as well as Spencer, maybe even better than yourself. He knows this, too. Spencer’s never had someone like that, other than you, other than the team. He’s spent too many years with his nose buried in books, his childhood built on facts and pages instead of people. But he’s learned and seen enough from everyone around him to know what it means to lose someone like that. 

Spencer can hypothesise the reasons. He’s good at that, good at putting pieces together, even the ones you try to keep from him. The distance had started long before the trip was planned—your recent promotion, longer nights at the office instead of out with her. Unanswered texts, missed calls. Spencer’s schedule didn’t help, his half-weeks spent in other cities. The move to his place had made sense at the time, it had seemed like the obvious next step. She’d been happy for you then, encouraged you to be closer to him. But “closer to him” had also meant “further from her.”

It had seemed like a fair trade at the time. Necessary.

Spencer presses his face into your hair, giving your hand a light squeeze. “I’m sorry,” he says finally. It’s so simple, so achingly gentle.

It’s much too nice, much too kind. You can’t bring yourself to start rebuilding your little house of cards. The cards lay untouched, scattered around you in a meek, pathetic, little pile. 

You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him. 

The couch creaks softly as you stand, letting Spencer’s hand fall away from yours as you move slowly towards your kitchen. As much as things had changed when Spencer entered your life, you could never put this on him. You know him, love him too much for that. “Don’t be,” you say thinly, “It’s not your fault.”

You didn’t call. You missed her party at that one club she was always raving about. You stopped showing up for drinks. You did this.

“It’s not yours either,” comes Spencer’s reply.

The sigh that escapes your lips is shaky and shuddering. Exhaustion weighs it down, and Spencer doesn’t need to look at you to know tears are already streaking your face.

“You don’t know that. You didn’t hear her, Spence. You didn’t hear the way she was talking. It was—god, I was horrible,” you whisper, your voice barely steady. “Do you know I missed her birthday?”

“Sweetheart, you were working on a brief,” he says, like it’s supposed to absolve you of any guilt. “Even I barely saw you that week. It wasn’t your fault.”

You shake your head, your breath catching on a bitter laugh. “No, Spencer. I didn’t just miss the party—I missed everything.” You’re pacing now, as much as the small kitchen allows. When that proves too constricting, you stop, gripping the edge of the counter. Your eyes bore holes into the granite surface. “I called her at three. Three in the morning. Do you get how ridiculous that is? I’ve always been the first to call her. Always. And this year, I didn’t even remember until it was already over.” 

Your gaze trails upward to the small window above the sink where a framed caricature rests—a silly, exaggerated version of you and Spencer, drawn at some carnival she went to last year. She gave it to you for Christmas. It’s hard to think that you'll never receive another one from her. Birthdays, Christmases—she’d always said she’d be the one in charge of your “something old” on your wedding day.

You don’t even realise Spencer’s left the couch until you hear the gentle clink of a cup being set down on the counter beside you. You know he’s making tea—chamomile, with a dash of milk. Just the way you like it. Spencer steps closer, stopping just short of your space, giving you some room. 

“And you know what the worst part was? When I finally called, she just... she didn’t even sound angry. Just tired. Like she was expecting it. At first, I thought she was sad, or mad, or—I don’t know. Something. But she didn’t even bother to show up today.”

“She didn’t show up?” Spencer asks quietly as he reaches for the milk in the fridge. 

You shake your head slowly, your shoulders sagging just a little more. 

Spencer tries to keep his disappointment at bay seeing as his suggestion to meet her in person had been a hopeful one, born from his belief that face-to-face conversations could convey things that text messages or calls couldn’t. After all, studies showed that emotional confrontations were better handled in person—fewer misunderstandings, more connection.

It’s why he despises technology, why he once made the 45-minute drive back to your apartment after your sixth date, just so he could tell you he loved you in person. He’d thought the same principle would apply here, that sitting across from her over coffee might bring back some clarity or some form of resolution. That it could help mend something. But the thought of you sitting alone in a café, waiting for someone who never showed, splinters his heart.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

The tenderness in his voice threatens to undo you entirely. The tea sits untouched as you sink to the floor, your back pressed against the cool cabinets of the kitchen. You hear Spencer move, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull you up, fuss about how the kitchen floor is no place to sit—how it’s probably crawling with bacteria and god-knows-what-else. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he lowers himself to sit cross-legged in front of you. “I’m sorry honey, you didn’t deserve that,” he says softly as he reaches out gently to brush away a stray tear from your cheek. 

And because he’s Spencer, he knows you well enough to sense when you’re drowning in your own spiral, battering yourself with equal parts blame and self-doubt. So, he leans in just slightly, adding, “You’re not horrible, sweetheart. You’re human. Everybody forgets things sometimes. Even birthdays.” The cup of tea scrapes lightly against the tiled floor as Spencer nudges it closer to your thigh. He pauses, offering a small smile. “The team forgot mine last year.” 

“I don’t think that makes it any better, Spence.” He tilts his head, considering. “It doesn’t,” he agrees, “But it doesn’t make you horrible either. I know you care, you care more than most people do. That’s not nothing.”

“Do you think I’ve changed?”

“How so?” 

“I don’t know,” you murmur, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. “I’ve never missed her birthday. Ever. I don't do that. I never thought this would happen. Like, we used to talk about the kinds of houses we’d get when we were kids. We always said we’d live next door to each other with one of those gardens that connected, with those big bay windows to read by. And now she’s just... gone?” you huff a sharp laugh. “How the hell does that work?”

Rebuilding your house of cards means reshuffling your deck entirely—creating a new order, moving forward with new people and leaving some others behind. You’re not sure if you have it in you to learn new rules for a game you’d grown so comfortable playing a certain way.

“It’s normal for things to change as we grow up,” Spencer says again gently. “It doesn’t mean what you had wasn’t real or important.”

“I know that Spencer, I know things change. I know people change. But I don’t—” You pause, shaking your head. “I didn’t think I changed.” You know you’re being short with Spencer, snappy even, but you can’t help it. All certainty feels like it’s crumbled beneath you, your sense of normalcy torn apart. 

Everything changes. Nothing stays the same. If she can leave—What’s to stop Spencer from walking away too? What’s keeping him here? 

Certainly not the way you’re curling into yourself now, your knees drawn up, arms hugging them tightly. The tea sits forgotten beside you, it's steam curling into the air. Spencer’s kindness lingers around you but you can't bring yourself to hold on to any bit of it. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that even that will disappear if you even try to reach for it.

“I don’t like change.” You can hear the petulance in your voice, the way it makes you sound like a child begging for time to stop. You can almost picture yourself, small and desperate, hands outstretched to hold the world still for just a moment longer. 

“In a way, she’s not wrong,” Spencer says softly, breaking the silence, “I think you’ve changed. I think deep down, you know that too.”

You look up at him sharply, blinking through teary lashes. You wonder if he means it as an accusation.

“I just don’t think it’s a bad thing,” he adds gently.

Your voice is bitter when you finally speak. “I don’t see how it isn’t.”

Spencer hums thoughtfully as he reaches out, taking your hand in his. Slowly, he coaxes you closer, guiding you to sit in his lap. You resist for a second but his patience doesn’t falter. So, eventually, you let yourself be pulled in, resting against his chest.

“Well, you got that job you wanted,” he starts. “And the promotion you worked so hard for,” he adds after a moment.

You huff, the sound half a laugh and half a sob. “That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a job.”

“It’s not just a job,” he counters, his hand stroking along your back. “It’s something you wanted. Something you earned.”

Your head shakes against his chest, your cheek brushing the soft fabric of his shirt. “Yeah, but at what cost? I messed everything else up. I got so busy, and I started—”

“You got busy because you were doing something you loved,” he interrupts softly, grounding you before the spiral takes hold again. “And I know it’s hard to see it like that right now, but it made you happy. You know over 65% of working adults report feeling disengaged with their jobs? But you found something you care about, and yeah, it made life busier, but it made you happier too. That’s more than just a great thing—that’s amazing.”

“I guess,” you mumble, sniffling into his shirt. 

“I’m just saying,” Spencer continues patiently. “Change is an enigma. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad. But there’s always a reason for change.”

“Bad reasons,” you mutter, almost under your breath.

“Not always,” Spencer says softly. “Change is growth.”

“Will you tell me? If I’m changing too much?” you ask quietly after a beat of silence. “It’s not that I don’t want to grow but… I just don’t want us to grow… apart.”

Spencer leans forward, his forehead brushing lightly against yours. “Sweetheart, I’m in love with you. I don’t think there’s a version of you I wouldn’t love.”

“What if I work too much?” you ask, tilting your head.

“I’d send a SWAT team to shut down your office.” A small smile breaks through and for a fleeting moment, you actually consider whether he could pull it off. Knowing Spencer? He probably could.

“And if I forget your birthday?” 

“I’d remind you by celebrating it for an entire week,” he grins. “But you’d never forget. You’re too thoughtful for that.”

“What if I’m not, though?” you press again, not entirely convinced. “What if I forget things, or miss out important stuff, and you’ll get sad or mad at me and—”

Spencer’s expression softens further, his hand reaching to cradle your cheek. “You will change,” he says calmly. “And I’ll change. That’s inevitable. And yeah, maybe I’ll get sad or mad one day—” 

“You got mad this morning,” you point out quietly.

Spencer’s lips twitch in a knowing smile. “You were mad at me first,” he counters.

“You didn’t kiss me goodbye,” you grumble.

“I did!” he insists, chuckling softly. “You were asleep, and I kissed you on the forehead. Twice, actually. And regardless, honey, I love you because you’re you. And you’re not going anywhere—not if I have any say in it. We’ll both change. We’ll grow together, and I promise that every version of me will love every version of you. I don’t think that will ever change.”

“You loved me even when I spilt scalding hot cocoa on your cashmere sweater on our first date?”

“I think I fell in love with you then,” Spencer says without hesitation, his smile mirroring your own. “Lots of things change, honey,” he continues, “Like how we’re getting a cat next week. You wouldn’t have been able to do that at your old apartment.”

You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips. Spencer’s never been an “animal person” outside of his fish—which he hadn’t even bothered naming until you came along. But getting him on board with a cat had been surprisingly easy. Even if you’d asked for a zoo, Spencer’s fairly certain he would’ve found a way to make it work just because you’re you. 

“Stupid apartment manager,” you grumble. 

“Stupid apartment manager,” Spencer echoes with mock solemnity. His lips twitch in a small smile. “And now all I have to worry about is my stupid hardwood floors.”

“We’ll train him,” you say with a smile of your own.

“Who’s we?” Spencer counters, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, swatting at his leg.

“Ow,” he says, the mock pain exaggerated as he rubs his knee. “See, I got shot in the leg. That’s change too.”

You scoff lightly. “Oh, and that’s supposed to be good change?” You ask, unimpressed.

Spencer leans back, his expression earnest. “If I hadn’t gotten shot in the leg, I wouldn’t have met you.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “That happened a year before we even met.”

“I got shot in the leg, which slowed down the speed I walked for a good year and a half. If I hadn’t been limping a little slower, I might’ve caught an earlier train or missed yours entirely. It’s a classic chaos theory example. Even the smallest variables can lead to the most significant outcomes. And I’d say meeting you was a pretty significant outcome.”

You roll your eyes, but this time a genuine laugh escapes you. The deck of cards may change, your house of cards may collapse every now and then and a reshuffle might be needed. But one thing always remains untouched in every game of cards: The Joker.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re perfect,” he counters, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

If there’s one thing you can always count on, it’s Spencer—Ever ready with his with his matter-of-fact tone and  Spencer-brand wit to coax a laugh out of you whenever you need it most.

Spencer, being Spencer, is right. Time passes, people change, and you have to trudge along with it—even as your fragile paper cards fall to the floor around you. There’s good change, there’s bad change, and sometimes there’s no change at all. 

Like how, now, even when you’re already smiling, laughter escaping your lips in small bursts, you still sit together on the kitchen floor talking for a little while longer, hands intertwined, cold tea by your side and all. 

When the cat arrives a week later, and his unexpected potty spot behind your fig plant by Spencer’s bookshelf is only discovered two days later? Bad change. Very very bad change.

When you finally get the cat fully potty trained and, three weeks later, track down a new version of The Iliad for Spencer with help from Penelope—a first edition, no less, despite his second edition being beloved? Good change. Great change even.

And when Spencer gets down on one knee 18 weeks later, right there by the same station where you first met, his knee now fully healed and you no longer rushing for a train? That’s perhaps the best kind of change.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you so much for reading! likes, comments or reblogs are very much appreciated!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: when you love someone by day6 (first kpop song rec hell yeah) a frame by jeremy zucker and chelsea cutler

[twddixonn]

Stay

Daryl Dixon x Reader one shot

desc: If I had asked you to stay, would you have?

wc: 3.074k

warnings/tags: not proof read!!! (I’m so sorry I never have the patience to re-read) very slight swearing, slight(?)angst

‘Everything changed that day.

The day Rick blew up the bridge to save his family, his friends - the other community’s.

We all mourned; for a man that might not even be dead.

The changes were slow at first, no one knew what to do.

I thought our family broke the day we lost Glenn and Abraham, the day we could have lost Daryl. The day that could have been our last.

The day we lost Carl.

But then we lost rick.

Dead or alive.

We lost him.

Michonnes screams still ring in my ears at times, the kind of times where everything gets to quiet and there’s no escape from it.

The expressions that glued on to everyone’s faces like a still image at the front of my mind when I try to sleep.

And then it was over.’

Slamming your diary shut, chucking it in some random drawer on your desk: you leaned back on your chair blowing a stray hair out of your face, staring at a drawing Judith and Rj did of you and uncle Daryl.

Over time, you slowly withdrew yourself from the others.

Nothing was the same anymore, Rick wasn’t around to keep everything in check and keep everyone together and gradually - everyone split for the most part.

Maggie left, leaving with Georgie in hopes of building a new community.

Michonne was mourning the love of her life, whilst bringing up Judith and Rj; the son Rick never got the chance to know about.

Carol and Ezekiel ruled over the kingdom.

Daryl left to go find his brother.

So you kept to yourself and mourned not only Rick, but your family too.

Three knocks sounded outside your room alerting your attention and snapping you back into reality yet again.

“Coming.” You acknowledged whoever was standing on the other side of that door.

Sighing you stood up and walked over taking a grip on the door handle before pulling it open, “What?” You snapped.

Carols eyes gleamed at you as she spoke with a small smile on her lips, “Hm, pleased to see you too Y/N”

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” You gave a thin lipped smile back to her.

“It’s fine. Come with me.” Before you could protest she grabbed your wrist and begun to drag you downstairs, heading straight to the front door and grabbing a backpack on the way.

“What are you doing? Are you going somewhere?” Why did she drag you down and out the house if she was just going to be leaving so quick?

“No.” She stated.

“No?”

“No, I’m not going somewhere. We are. Grab your stuff. Let’s go” Carols little grin never leaving her face.

You’d like to say you’re surprised at her bluntness and secrecy but she’s always had this side to her, she just knows how and when to play it.

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You’d been walking for a while, thoughts racing through your mind on what Carol could be up too: what little plan she’s concocted this time round.

You can’t remember the last time you actually saw her. It was rare for her to visit Alexandria and when she did you were always cooped up in your room or out helping with whatever was asked of you.

She never came to Alexandria unless she was-

“Stop.” You tried to assert dominance in your voice, yet the slight crack as you spoke didn’t seem very convincing.

“Stop walking Carol. I know what we’re doing out here. I need you to tell me why.” It was more of a statement than a question at this point.

She halted the second time round you spoke, muttering something to herself along the lines of ‘shit’ before turning and giving a smile, although it shared more resemblance to a grimace.

The kind of look a child gives to their parent after they’ve been caught doing something they definitely shouldnt be doing.

“Y/N.. I had to do something. You need to see him” She sounded exasperated.

“I had to do something because you haven’t. After everything we all went through.

You shut down on us.

You wouldn’t come out your room unless someone asked you for help with something.

You barely speak.

You just hide away, not letting anyone even attempt to get back in.

You let Daryl leave. You didn’t even try to stop him! You let him continue with these.. these sick delusions that Rick is still out there somewhere. You love him, and you still let him leave.”

Carols never been one to be afraid to say what she thinks: although never with you.

“You think I wanted things to be this way? I shut myself away because you left.

Maggie left. Michonne lost herself. I stepped back because it was the right thing to do at the time, furthermore it was still the right thing to do after the time passed.” Drawing in an uneven breath, you continued -

“I also didn’t let Daryl leave. He left because it’s what he wanted. You know as well as I do, had I of tried to convince him to stay, it would have been pointless. He believes his brothers out there so he went looking for him! Just like you believed Sophia was out there and we went looking for her!” Panic struck you as you realised what you had said in your last sentence, how could you be so cruel to bring up a woman’s dead daughter?

Carol let out a puff of air before placing her hand on your forearm and then dragging you into her arms, almost cradling you.

“I know you didn’t mean it. It’s okay. But we’re going to see Daryl and that’s final.” She backed up slightly, a hand cupping your jaw as she whispered, “You don’t deserve to lose the man you love, not in a world like this.”

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Anxiety.

It’s the only thing you could feel as you neared closer to the river Carol was due to meet Daryl at. You hadn’t seen him in.. you couldn’t even remember how long it had truly been.

All you remember was the day he packed his bag and announced he was heading out to look for Rick, entire belief filled with Rick being alive.

He came to see you before he left.

Explained why he was going: not saying how long he’d be gone.

You can still remember the feeling of his hands on your waist as he pulled you into his body, his head in the crook of your neck as tears lined up on your waterline; you remember making sure he didn’t see them fall.

You remember the way he leaned back to look at you, one hand still on your waist with the other trailing up to the back of your head as his eyes bored into yours before eventually looking all over your face- avoiding your eyes the second time round.

The way his intense stare ended up on your lips for just maybe a couple of seconds too long for this to be considered only a friendship.

You can remember his face inching closer almost as if he was going to stop fighting the thoughts in his head and finally kiss you; but it never came.

His hands left your head, left your waist.

Then he was gone.

That was the last time you saw Daryl.

Carol stopped walking and glanced back at you, noticing the distant stare and she could tell you were deep in thought, thinking of him.

“Why are you stopping? Come on! We’re pretty much here.”

A few more steps forward with your head bowed down, you saw the river edge right before your feet.

Bracing yourself to hear his voice.

It never came.

“Let’s go. He’s not here but he has to be around somewhere, his stuff’s still lying about.” Before you could complain and make the suggestion of heading back, Carols hand had yet again found its way to your wrist and she was dragging you behind her, determined to find him.

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“Hands up. Who are you and what are you doing on my property?”

Carol came to a quick halt, you bumping into her back as she dropped your wrist and slowly raised her hands, glancing at you with her eyes telling you to follow her actions.

You raised your hands right as the woman repeated her earlier questions.

You could practically hear the cogs turning in Carols brain before she decided to take on a familiar role, the role of the innocent helpless lady she’s played many times before -

“Pl- please don’t.. don’t shoot us. We don’t have anything on us. J-just trying to find a friend. We’ll leave, right now.. we’ll go. Just please.. d-don’t hurt us.”

You fought hard to not chuckle at her.

How couldn’t you?

She plays it so well.

“What’s goin’ on?”

Anything that was going to come out of your mouth, whether it be words or just air; got stuck.

He’s here.

He’s safe.

He looks healthy.

He looks.. happier.

“Y/N? Carol?” Daryl couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He’d seen Carol on and off since he left Alexandria, of course he had; she’s his best friend. Who else would care more than his best friend to keep bringing him supplies?

Seeing Y/N however, had him dumbfounded.

The look of rage the lady holding the shotgun at you and Carol had, never seem to let up before she spoke again.

“You know these people?”

“Yeah, s’my family.” He muttered to her.

Maybe this really was a mistake.

You shouldn’t have come.

Raising an eyebrow at you both, the woman whispered to Daryl then turned her back and headed inside, not without shooting you and Carol one last glare.

“Who’s ‘little miss I’m gonna shove a gun in random people’s faces and give relentless attitude until they tell me what I demand to know from them’?” Carols voice taking on a higher pitch as she mimicked the stranger.

This time you couldn’t hold back on the chuckle that left your lips.

Daryl’s eyes shot over to you, making you put your head back down and shove Carol slightly to make her talk as you hoped to just blend into the background again.

“Came to bring you stuff.” She chucked the bag at his feet before continuing on, “You were supposed to be at the river but obviously you had.. better plans. So we just followed the paths that looked most used and here we are. Surprise! Excited?” Sarcasm dripping from her voice the longer she spoke to him.

No one made any attempt to move or speak, so Carol spoke up again,

“I need to go for a pee. I’ll be back.” Her hand landing on your shoulder, her eyes looking into yours practically begging you to at least try and talk to him.

“How-“

“Is-“

You both began to speak at the same time.

You took this as the opportunity to quickly spit out some words, make him talk first to ease the tension.

“Sorry. You first.”

“How’re yer doin’?” It was a murmur, but it was something from him.

“I’m-“ taking a slight pause, debating between telling him the absolute truth or just making up a load of bullshit, the latter being more appealing.

“I’m good. Thanks. How about you?”

“Good. I’m a’right. I’m still searching. I ain’t givin’ up. Not till I find ‘im” Daryl was fiddling with his fingers, a telltale sign to you that he was just as nervous as you were.

He nodded his head towards a little bench, signalling you to sit with him.

Your mind is telling you to run as fast as you can, escape this situation before it’s too late.

Your feet move before you can take notice of your mind.

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The silence was beginning to grow deafening. Carol was yet to return, you knew she wasn’t going to though.

Not until you and Daryl had a somewhat decent, somewhat truthful conversation.

She was probably crouched down in one of the many bushes surrounding you, eavesdropping on everything you’re yet to say to one another.

“Are you any closer? To finding him? Finding anything?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.

Truth is, you weren’t certain you wanted to know.

Either way it would end in shit creek somehow.

A grunt left Daryl, “Nah. I ain’t gonna stop till I do tho.”

All you could do was nod in acknowledgment to him.

“How’s Alexandria? Michonne ‘n the kids? Yerself?.”

How were you expected to answer this?

He’d already asked you about yourself before, why again?

You stammered over your words before sighing and deciding you may as well be honest,

“It’s fine.. I guess. I don’t really see Michonne much nowadays. The kids are great, they come see me every so often usually with a new drawing or some fun new fact Judith read in one of her homework books. Sometimes they come to see me just to see if I’m okay.” You couldn’t help but sign again.

“Tha’s good. Least the kids are okay. Y’self? Y’never answered me.”

Daryl adored those kids so much. You could only imagine how much he must miss them. Miss his home, though you’re certain he doesn’t class it as that anymore.

“Fine.” What else could you say?

“Jus’ fine?”

“I’m alive, aren’t I? That classes as fine in my books.”

“Missed yer sarcasm, missed ya.”

Daryl’s confession of missing you made your heart thump the strongest it has in a long time, before it plummeted to your stomach and presented itself as a nauseous feeling.

“You seem like you’re doing well. Got a hot new girlfriend huh?” God, you tried to crack a smile and seem like you were happy for him but the words seemed to burn your throat as they rose up and scorched your lips the minute they left.

Daryl instantly noticed the disdain you had to the words that came from your own mouth.“Nah, s’not like tha’.”

His accent came out thicker in just that short sentence. Was he lying to you, to reserve your own feelings from getting hurt? To stop you getting upset with him?

“Oh. Keeping your bed warm then.”

Once those words left your mouth you began to doubt yourself.

Perhaps you should have adjusted your tone as you spoke; made it more of a question.

“No. It’s.. s’complicated s’all.”

Daryl found his mind wandering, stirring up all the things he wishes to say.

He used to see you every morning, go on a run for supplies and come back with numerous different stories to tell you.

Even made some of them up just to have an excuse to talk to you for longer.

Now he hasn’t seen you in so so long and he’s completely jammed up. Can’t find anything to say that will make this situation better.

“Can I ask you something?” It was now or never for you. You knew you’d most likely not see him again for an incredibly long time, if at all. So it seemed like the right time to ask him what’s been playing on your mind.

He hummed at you, edging you to continue with whatever you wanted to ask me.

You were so sure of what you were about to say, but hesitation still snuck in on you from every angle.

“The day you left. When.. when you held me at my door. Did.. were..” you trailed off, you felt so fucking stupid asking him, regret for even bringing it up.

“G’on”

Now or never. “Were you going to kiss me?”

He stayed silent. Just like that day, his eyes went everywhere but your eyes.

Fidgeting with his hands again, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

“I thought ‘bout it.” He thought about it every minute he was with you; every minute he wasn’t with you.

“Wanted to.” Wanted it like nothing else.

“I ain’t think it was the right thing to do.”

It was the right thing. He knows that.

“Why?” It’s all you could manage. You were so thankful to be sat, your knees felt weak and you’re half convinced your legs turned into literal jelly.

“Knew ya’d follow me. Couldn’t have you out ‘ere. S’not safe, ain’t wanna risk yer safety.”

“Oh.” It was all you could manage. You should have said more, you *know* you should have.

And yet you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Makes sense. At least I know now.” You couldn’t add anything further at this point.

You wanted the conversation about this over with.

You wanted him to kiss you now to make up for it. For him to come back with you. Despite you knowing it would never happen.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Phew. Such a long journey for such a short toilet trip.” Carols way of announcing she was back - she had never left - broke you and Daryl out of what ever trance you were in.

“What did I miss?”

You stood up abruptly, losing your balance slightly as you did so. Daryl’s hand made its way to your waist to steady you, just like it did the day he left.

“We need to go. It was good to see you.”

You pulled away from him, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder.

Carol raises a brow at you before saying a short goodbye to Daryl and giving him a hug, telling him when she’d roughly be back with more supplies.

You began to walk off, wanting nothing more than to get back to your own personal safe haven in Alexandria.

Also before you opened your mouth and blurted something out yet again.

“Y/N”

Turning around, Daryl took a couple steps closer to you, pulling you in for a hug.

Head in the crook of your neck, you could have sworn he inhaled the scent of your hair, your skin; something.

“Be safe m’kay? Y’can come whenever ya wanna.”

Your heart throbbed. You nodded at him, despite knowing the truth yourself; you wouldn’t be back.

You both stepped back, maybe it was more on your part because you needed to escape this situation.

Carol walked ahead. You went to follow in pursuit.

“Daryl?”

“Mhm?”

“Back then. If I had asked you to stay, would you have?”

“Y’never asked. Guess we ain’t ever gonna know.”

He knows.

He would have stayed.

Times like these he thinks he should have.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

authors note!: hi! If you made it this far I hope you enjoyed it!:) I got more into this one compared to the first fic I posted (hence why there’s a bit more effort with a banner photo and such!) feedback is welcome, I’m always looking for ways to improve! Thank you all :-)

[weregonnaneedabiggerboat]

That Stupid Rabbit!

Lee!You x Ler!Jax

CW: Some baby talk, lots of teasing, Jax is a mean ler, and obvs tickling so scroll if that's not your thing!

A/N: Your persona is a squeaky toy plush here! This fic is sort of an addition to this drawing of Jax that I did. Also, this is my first tickling fic so let me know if you enjoyed!!

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

Stumbling back into your room after a long and tedious adventure, you collapse in your bed and heave a huge sigh. You were mentally and emotionally exhausted, and also a little bit annoyed.

What made Caine think that doing a dangerous labyrinth would be a fun adventure!? Why can't it just be an easter egg hunt or something!

You grunted loudly and covered your head with a pillow, hoping to get some shut eye soon so you could forget about today. It wasn't just the adventure that bothered you, but also the troubling transition into a whole other reality. You loved all your new friends, but sometimes their cynical attitudes towards everything was discouraging to deal with.

Not that you could blame them, being stuck here for a long time must have done something to their minds, evidenced by the fact Pomni understood you the most.

You just sighed and turned over in your bed, trying to brush all these thoughts away. Your arm extended to reach out for the lamp next to your bed, when all of a sudden you saw a shadow standing at the doorway.

You yelped, a brief look of surprise crossing your face, but your expression fell flat in annoyance when you realized who came knocking.

Course you left your door unlocked, because how could this day get any worse?

The stupid purple bunny man, Jack or whatever his name was, grinned at you as he leaned on the frame of the doorway.

“Hey there, Squeaky,” he teased, tilting his head, feigning innocence.

Yeah. Squeaky. That's what he called you. So original.

“Someone's happy to see me~"

“@#$& off, Jax,” you grunted, collapsing on your bed again and covering your face with the pillow. “I'm not in the mood for another stupid prank of yours, leave me alone.”

Jax always looked for excuses to make your plush body squeak, either by dropping you from a small height or by pushing you against something. You only figured he came here for some cheap entertainment, since the others were all ganged up and you were alone.

“What? Can't a guy check on his best buddy in the whole world without it bein a crime?" he taunted, raising his arms as if he was being accused.

You heard him welcome himself into your bedroom, and he stopped right before you. From the limited vision you had looking at the bottom of your pillow, you could see his looming figure standing before you.

“I'm serious, you cottontail jerk, get out of my— H-Hey!!”

You jolted when you felt him poke your belly, making your stuffed body squeak again. Only this time, you squeaked too.

“J-Jax!!” you exclaimed, immediately flipping the pillow to cover your belly instead of your face. However, you quickly realized how awful of an idea that was, evidenced by your slight sinking into your shoulders, since Jax could now fully see just how much that move made you blush.

Betraying you, your face heated up the more his grin widened. If it got any longer it could probably wrap around his face, you thought, and that idea almost made you smile if it wasn't for your situation right now.

“This is new, Squeaky,” he teased, poking your side from below the pillow. Jax laughed as your hand swiftly came to the rescue, smacking his wrist out of the way. “What’s the matter, Squeaky? You're awfully squirmy today~"

“Jax enough!!” you growled defensively, though it came off way less threatening than you would've liked, especially with how much your face was blushing.

However, in typical Jax fashion, he totally ignored you and poked your side again, and again, and again. And each time you tried to cover it he'd just switch his hand to poking the other side.

You started to giggle and kick your legs, squirming even more to get away from his fingers. This reaction seemed to entice him even more, as the more giggly you got, the more he poked you in different places.

“Aww is the little squeaky toy ticklish~?” he cooed with a mocking voice, grinning smugly when you returned his tease with an embarrassed glare.

The t-word!? Seriously!?

How does he always find such effective ways of bullying you?

Also, the way he said it so confidently made you sink into yourself even more, using the pillow as some sort of shield to protect you so you can hide away and never come out.

And of COURSE your reaction to that word didn't go unnoticed by him, because his ears flicked straight up in curiosity once he saw you look away. He almost looked intrigued at this new vulnerability he discovered, lidding his eyes and raising his eyebrows.

"Sh-Shut up,” you murmured.

“What? Why?” he chuckled, wiggling his fingers in the air and snickering at your embarrassed reaction. “Are ya ticklish, Squeaky~?”

You let out a whine and tried to hit him with the pillow, pleading for him to get off. Which didn't help at all by the way, since he just grabbed it from your hands and tossed it aside.

“I said shut up!!” you scolded.

“Haha, there is no way you get flustered from the word tickle!” He was laughing at you at this point, and it was starting to make you feel embarrassed and a little belittled.

You looked away and pouted sadly, which he noticed, and his expression calmed down slightly as a result.

Of course he was just mocking you, what did you expect? There was no way he was ever going to—

“There's no need to be so ashamed, Squeaky,” he chuckled with a less taunting tone than before, interrupting your invasive thoughts. Jax didn't stoop as low as to make fun of something so vulnerable. Then he added, “Buuut, don't think this is going to save you from anything~”

He cracked his knuckles and grinned down at you, and your eyes widened in response, because now he climbed on top of your bed and sat on your legs, limiting your movement.

No. No, he wouldn't, he can't! You'd probably explode into a million pieces or something!! What the hell did he think he was doing!?

"What the heck are you—"

“Get ready, Squeaky, because I'm... going to…” He watched your expression with narrowed, amused eyes, looking down at you with maybe the most evil look you've ever seen come from his face. He then raised his hands and slowly made a clawing motion with his fingers.

“Tickle you~”

Before you could respond, he quickly descended his wiggling fingers into your ribs, and you squealed out in a fit of giggles, trying to kick your feet or push him or something! But his weight on top of you prevented you from squirming too far, and your arms uselessly wrapped around your chest.

“Tickle, tickle~” he cooed, and every time you squealed, it just encouraged him even more. “Yeah? That make you blush?" he taunted, moving his fingers into every corner that made you giggle.

"Hmm, what about... Coochicoochicoo~” he cooed, his fingers scrambling into your ribs, as he poked and prodded around in there.

“JAHAHAX!!” you shrieked through your laughter, feeling like you were about to have a heart attack from all this out of nowhere teasing coming from him. Your face felt hot with embarrassment, and you closed your eyes tightly to avoid eye contact. “STOHOHOP!! IHIHI’M SERIOUHUHUS!!”

“No way! This is way too good!!” He laughed along with you, experimenting with different spots, his fingers squirming and poking anywhere your arms failed to block, almost as if he was searching for something.

“Where's your tickle spot, Squeaky? I know you have one~” he sang. “Is it here? Or here? Or maybe here?”

You felt his fingers wriggle at your ribs, then your belly, then your neck. Each touch tickled even more than the last, and it didn't just feel like tickling, it felt like tickling that he was very much enjoying.

You swiped your arms up and down your body helplessly. Every time you blocked your sides, he tickled your ribs, and every time you blocked your ribs, he tickled your sides. There was no winning!

And then, you made a big mistake.

You lifted your arms to grab at his wrists and finally pull them off of you, but before you could catch them—

“Oh I know, HERE!!” he declared, pushing his index fingers under your arms and making you scream even more with embarrassed laughter. He laughed at his own victory, and you just couldn't seem to catch a break.

“NOHOHO!! NO JAHAX STOHOHOP PLEHEASE!!” you pleaded with the rabbit, clamping your arms down on his hands and trying your best to arch your back. It was no use, you just trapped his hands under your arms, and you couldn't find the strength to lift them.

“You're just making this easier and easier for me, Squeaky,” he chuckled, grinning down at you and continuing to wriggle his fingers under your clamped down arms. “Tickle, tickle~”

You couldn't even get any more words out now, not that it mattered because he wasn't going to stop anyway. Your indecipherable pleads for him to stop fell on deaf ears, and it seemed like he really was never going to stop until he was satisfied.

“Say it, Squeaky~ Say you're ticklish~” he teased, moving his fingers to that sweet spot right between your ribs and armpits.

“NOHOHO!!” you cackled, hugging yourself so tightly that you might as well be tying yourself up with your arms. You really wanted him to give you a breathing break, but the catch being that you had to SAY it? Out loud? To him of all people!?

“Say you're ticklish and I'll stop~” his voice cooed playfully to you, even with your eyes shut tightly you can still hear the grin in his words. His hand moved to your belly, and he scribbled his fingers all over your midsection, keeping his other hand poking your ribs.

“FIHINE I'M—” you whined through your laughter, trying force the word out through resistive lips. “I-I’m!! I- Hihi— I-I'm—!! @#&$!! I'm NOHOT saying ihihit!!"

“Oh well," he chuckled at your adorable reaction, humming in disappointment. "Looks like I'm not stopping any time soon, then, Squeaky~” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he could go all day with this.

“F-FIHINE I'm—" you giggled with a tiny voice, squealing as you felt both his hands scribble all around your belly and sides."Ihi'm ticklihish—!!"

Jax grinned at that, feeling quite victorious in doing his job properly. He pulled his hands away and sat up, resting them next to you.

You heaved a giant gulp of air, panting strongly from that entire episode. He was such an evil, evil ler. And way to jinx it, too.

“Say it again, but this time look at me,” he decided to add with a smug look, then wiggled his fingers again. “Or else…~”

You squeaked as he gave you a warning poke at your sides. No way he was really going to do all that again, right…?

You just stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place as you decided between enduring that again or actually having to say the t-word out loud. Both options sounded just as anxiety inducing as the other.

“Come on, Squeaky, we don't have all night~”

You yelped as you felt him poke you again, and quickly blurted the words out loud. “F-Fine I'm ticklish!! I-I am!!” you stammered, your voice high pitched and embarrassed.

Satisfied, Jax finally got off of you, stretching out his back, then poking your nose playfully.

“See ya around, Squeaky~” he chuckled with a wave, turning to walk away.

“Jax—"

His ears flicked curiously, and he looked back at you, hands in his pockets.

Your eyes flicked between his hidden hands and his eyes, but this time you caught yourself quickly before he could notice. Still panting a bit from the adrenaline rush, you managed to compose yourself enough to sit up and hug your pillow.

“...Please, don't tell anyone,” you pleaded with a small and timid voice, anxious at the idea of everyone knowing about this secret of yours. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with it, but it was way too vulnerable of a subject for just anyone to know about.

Jax raised his eyebrows with a smug smirk, he definitely noticed you looking at his hands. Part of him wanted to tell all your friends just to make you mad, but seeing your genuine expression made him reconsider. Making you feel unsafe was beyond his interest, and besides, having this just be between you two would make for some way more fun teasing.

Still, not wanting to give in so easily, he just gave you a vague answer and a shrug.

“Hmm... We'll see, Squeaky," he hummed, turning and walking out of your room, that ever smug expression on his face.

You saw his shadow disappear from your doorway. What did he even mean by that?? Was he going to tell them or no!?

You swallowed nervously, and got up to go and silently lock your door closed for the rest of the night, not wanting to face the others whilst being such a flustered mess.

Slumping back into your bed, you sighed heavily, trying your best to process what just happened. Your stomach flared up in butterflies as your mind played the past 10 minutes over and over in vivid detail.

Knowing Jax, there was absolutely no way he was going to let go of this so easily. And as much as you wanted to deny it for your own peace of mind, you knew he was going to tease you about this forever.

Still…

You curled up around your pillow, laying on your side and staring at the clock tick on the wall. As anxious as that thought made you, you still smiled a bit. And you couldn't help but feel a little excited at the same time.

Ugh… That stupid rabbit.

[cloudsmateria]

cloud strife x reader - are you ready to cry? cause i’m no good

this fic is impaired by les by childish gambino bc our little cloud is emotionally unavailable but he becomes infatuated with a girl he met at the club, both horribly drunk, leading him to catch some feeling and make some decisions he maybe probably shouldn’t have. they sneak around with each other until he has to cut this off. part 2 will probably come, we’ll see how i feel. this is my not proofread first draft, and is mostly an attempt for me to get better at smut since i don’t do it often. also my new fav song i’ve been previously gate keeping is here <3

tw: alcohol, drunk sex, a lot of sex

word count: 7.5k, most of it smut

wall street was party central beneath the plate, it was aerith who took him here promising a drink at the bar before he’d go back to sector 6, but one drink turned to two, turned to three, turned to 4 and the next thing he knew he was in a club on the dance floor with aerith, sending tifa a message telling her where he was.

it didn’t take long for you to catch his eye, you were already looking up at him, smiling and drawing him in. his head was swirling with everything revolving around you, but with a nudge from aerith it didn’t take much for him to approach you, not a thought behind those eyes to make him think twice.

“can i get you a drink?” he shouted over the music, your friends laughing and going off to the floor to let you have your moment.

“one more and i’m gonna pass out.” you giggled wrapping your arms around his neck to dance with him. “you’re not too far from your limit too.” he laughed, his hands naturally resting on your waist.

“how could you tell?”

”it took a good 5 minutes for you to notice me, you were in your own little world.”

”so you’ve been watching me since i came in, huh?”

”with that sword on your back? yes.”

”that the only reason?” he said smugly, leaning in to tease you. you smiled, going for a kiss, he pulled you forward without thinking. the warmth and softness of your lips engulfed his mind, you drawing away. he looked slightly shocked when his eyes met yours again, in a trance of your entirety. your giggle echoed throughout him. “what?”

“i don’t know, just you. i like you.” a sheepish laugh escaped his lips, looking down. he looked back to check if aerith was watching him, she luckily missed the entire exchange. tifa had come by and they had hit it off straight away, the two of them laughing at the bar. but he wasn’t too keen on them seeing him for the mockery that would come for the rest of his life.

“let’s get out of here, i wanna hear your voice better, see you in the light.” you said, like you were reading his mind, you pulled him gingerly toward the exit, his hand tightened around yours as you pulled him forward, spinning you around to wrap his arms around your waist when you got outside, kissing you like it was the first time against the wall, mindlessly. his hands feeling the skin of your waist in your silly crop top, he was too drunk to read what it said, it was something stupid undoubtedly.

he didn’t care, his lips wondered to your cheek kissing you all over, leading down the the back of your ears and kissing you down your neck, all he wanted was to taste you to feel the way your body shivered when his lips made contact.

“ah-“ your voice shivered. “i don’t know your name.” you whimpered, making his heart throb at your shaky voice, clear in the empty cold air.

“cloud.” he said, slowly pulling back, his breath gone at the look of your face. “you?” oh my god his voice was so hot. you tell him and he repeats it softly. you could’ve whimpered again right there, you could feel pink blushing your cheeks in the cold, something you hadn’t felt in ages and you didn’t want this to be just lust. you didn’t want to waste this moment.

his stomach twisted at your slight change in demeanour, slightly shy. to be honest he really wanted to kiss you more than anything, but decided to lay off for a second. how drunk you both were was also a concern that crossed his mind for a split second, he’d like to think he’d fight fine drunk. whatever, he’s a soldier.

”come on.” he held your hand, starting to walk down the street.

“you familiar with the area?” you asked.

“i have no idea where i’m going.” he said blankly, making you giggle.

”you must be far gone.”

”no, i just want to spend some more time with you.” you felt your heart pulse, skipping ahead a step to look at him.

“well, you’re in luck. i happen to know all the good spots, soldier.”

”lead the way, m’lady.”

you were already in the heart of wall market, the streets were bustling at this time of the night, the alleyways were filled with dodgy groups but you had your pretty little guard dog with you. his face was so pretty lit by the amalgamation of lights you walked through, red, purple, blue, he was beautiful, and a gentleman. 10 minutes into your walk your feet started to hurt so he ended up picking you up, a few giggly, teasing pecks being slung around until you were at the door of your small apartment, the elevated entrance looking over the street of wall market.

he hugged you from behind while you unlocked your door, picking you up on your way in to kiss you, pinning you against your entrance wall while kicking the door shut, pulling off your heels and pulling his sword off with his free hand to place against your door. your arms wrapped around his neck, focused on how soft his lips were. the alcohol had worn of slightly, you were both undoubtedly drunk which made everything about this feel that much more amazing.

“i’ve been waiting for this.” he whispered in your ear, nibbling your lobe while his hands got more adventurous, sliding up your dress to holding you by your ass. your breath caught in your throat, unable to resist the mako-infused trance his eyes cast over you, he carried you to your bed, laying you down gently. the room spun slightly, but it was a pleasant feeling, a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. his hand traced the curve of your waist, his eyes never leaving yours, breath shivering at the touch of the softness of your skin.

all of it was so intimate, so real, the way you looked at him made his heart throb. your hand found his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours, and in that moment, he knew he would never get enough of you, not the morning after, not in 10 years when you had split ways, he’d never forget your loving touch, soft skin, saccharine laugh. his hands moved to the hem of your dress, pulling it up slowly as his mouth was desperately pressed against your plump lips, revealing your stomach, your chest, your shoulders. the cool air hit your skin, but his touch was like fire engulfing you.

his eyes searched yours for any signs of hesitation, but all he found was desperation like his. he leaned in, kissing down your chest, making you gasp with every gentle press of his lips. your heart was racing so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, you felt so alive, so loved, so desired. his touch was tender, yet firm, leaving no doubt about how badly he needed you, you slipped your fingers under his vest, tugging it upward. he pulled off his top with one hand, you were shocked, staring at his chiselled chest blatantly. you should’ve expected this from his arms, but even then, none of that prepared you for this.

his body was a masterpiece, sculpted from clay like an idol. every muscle defined, the way his abs rippled with every movement was mesmerizing. his arms were strong, yet gentle as they held you down, his chest a book of scars. the light from the street lamps outside danced across his skin, casting shadows that played tricks with your eyes. you couldn’t help but run your fingers over them.

his breath hitched, and his eyes closed briefly as you touched his scars, trying to keep himself under control. his hands slid up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties, making you squirm. he pulled away from your chest, looking down at you with a smirk. “you enjoying yourself?”

you nodded, feeling a bit shy at his sudden question. “yes...” your voice was barely a whisper, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his hands continuing their exploration. he gently slid your panties to the side, his finger grazing your wetness. you gasped into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to slip his finger inside, making you arch off the bed, gasping loudly.

“oh, cloud!” you moaned out his name, your voice a mix of pleasure and surprise. his eyes lit up with satisfaction, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin.

“that’s it, baby.” he said, his voice deep and rough, making you press your legs together. his finger moved in and out of you, setting a steady rhythm that had you clutching the bed sheets. he leaned down to kiss you again, his free hand playing with your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger, making you whimper. his free arm leaning above your head to keep himself stable, his shadowed face watching your blissed expression. your hips rolled up with his fingers, desperately trying to get closer. he could feel your pussy twitch, the heat radiating from you and the warm smell of your perfume surrounding him, intoxicated by more than just the alcohol, it was your aura he was drinking in. he was throbbing so hard it hurt.

he buried himself into your neck in his breathlessness, panting right in your ear, your hand buried in his hair pulling him closer into you. he kissed your lobe softly, every touch left a mark on your soul, you could feel his intensity in every action, it all came out. he felt this was the only peace he had in his hectic life, you unwrapped him to his barest form.

his finger continued to work you, making you squirm under him. “what do you want?” he whispered, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. you bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan. “anything…. ah- you’re enough, anything, cloud...” you breathed out, your voice shaky, you were close.

his voice was a soft caress, the words coming out of his mouth were like a gentle storm, confusing yet comforting, the kind that left you breathless. “are you sure about this? about me?” he asked, his thumb circling your clit, driving you crazy. you nodded, unable to form more coherent words. his fingers moving faster, curling just right. your orgasm quickly building as your legs pressed tighter together, quivering. his thumb found your clit, circling it perfectly, you were at your limit.

“c-cloud!” you screamed, body convulsing as waves of your pleasure crashed over you. he was amazed. your sound was music in his ears, and his own arousal grew tenfold to the way your pussy pulsed around his fingers, everything you did was beautiful. his bulge was already uncomfortable, but now it was unbearable. he pulled his fingers out of you, making you twitch. you wrapped your arms around him as he kissed down your neck, teeth nipping at your skin.

he sat up to kick his jeans off, throwing them to the corner of your room. you could see his dick straining against his boxers, a wet spot at his tip from his leaking precum. you jaw dropped, his size was intimidating and yet unbelievably hot, you did not expect him to be packing this much. he palmed himself through his boxers, chuckling at your reaction. he pulls you on top of him, taking your hand and pressing it against his erection, skin hot to the touch.

“what?” he asks, a playful smirk playing on his lips, watching your reaction. you blush deeper, not breaking eye contact, your hand still wrapped around him.

“iis that even going to fit?”

“dunno. you having second thoughts?” he teases. you bite your lip, shaking your head. yes, you definitely were having second thoughts but that wasn’t going to stop you. you want him more than ever now. you lean down to kiss him again, feeling his cock pulse in your hand. his tongue slides into your mouth, dancing with yours, the taste of alcohol as you mix together. you can feel your heart racing in your chest.

he moves your hand away, sliding his boxers down, his cock springing free. he’s huge and dripping. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice soothing.

“mhm.” you nod, eagerly leaning down to kiss the tip of his cock, feeling him twitch in your hand.

"fuck." he whispers, the taste of saltiness coated your tongue as you wrapped your lips around it, making you want to taste more of him. you lick the length of him, watching his eyes roll back in his head, a low groan leaving his mouth. you swirl your tongue around the head, making him hiss before taking him into your mouth, feeling him fill your throat.

"shit!"

his hands went to your hair, gripping it tightly as you moved your mouth up and down his length, your tongue caressing every inch. he watched you with a mix of pleasure and disbelief, feeling his orgasm build rapidly. he could feel your throat contract around his tip, his balls tightening. but he didn’t want to come too soon. he gently pushes your head away, panting heavily.

“you’re too good at that, but it’s not what i had in mind.” he breathed. “i need to be inside you so badly right now.” his hand went to the side of your face, thumb stroking your cheek. the affection in his voice made you squirm, he brought his head down for another kiss. his hands roamed up to your hips, kneading the fat in his hands. he flipped over hovering over you with your back against the sheets, his eyes were filled with lust and something else you couldn’t figure out, whatever it was, it was intense.

he gripped your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. his free hand slid down between your thighs, prying your legs wide open for him, fingers slowly dragging up your slit, getting drenched in your wetness. his eyes searched your own for any sign of hesitation.

“i don’t know how much control i have over myself.” he said lowly, he has pushed himself to his limit with you. you nodded quickly, already desperate for him and ready for anything he wanted to do to you.

“that’s okay, cloud.”

”are you sure?”

”ive never been so sure about someone in my life.” you said, looking up at him tenderly. his heart swelled in his chest, feeling heavier than before. no one had ever looked at him like that, spoken to him like that, your words raw and ripping deep into him. he knew he didn’t deserve this, but in this moment, he couldn’t help but revel in it. if he only had sober enough of a mind to turn away now and stop himself from hurting you.

“fuck… stop looking at me like that.” he murmured, heart hammering in his chest. the look in your eyes was like a warm embrace, he looked down, trying to avoid it, it was overwhelming him. your giggle only made his heart throb more, he couldn't help but smile.

his grip on your wrist tightened, pushing your hips down to align with him, his tip could feel the heat of your entrance. slowly, he dragged it up your folds, drenching it in your wetness and making your body shiver until it hooked against your entrance, making you arch your back. he groaned, the friction was driving him insane. you looked up into his eyes, trying to prepare yourself to accommodate him. he took a deep breath.

“are you okay with this?“ he asked one last time, his voice strained with the effort to not rushing into this no matter how badly he wanted it. this was your first time and you were nervous but sure. you nodded eagerly, cheeks flushing red. it was all he needed. he pushed into you, slowly sinking the tip into you, it was so tight.

”fuck….” he breathed out.

you closed your eyes, you could feel them rolling to the back of your head, a mixture of pleasure and pain. you bit your lip though a muffled moan still managed to slip out as you stretched around him. he paused for a moment giving you time to adjust around him. he pushed in deeper, groaning, the heat was overwhelming as he felt himself getting deeper until he bottomed out completely and you’re sure your neighbours heard the disgusting noises that spilled from your mouth.

“shit, you feel too good. “ he twitched inside you, he cursed himself for being so close already. you felt so full, the pain of trying to adjust to him was wearing off slowly and all that consumed you was pleasure. he watched your face, all your reactions, it made his heart ache. “see what you’ve done to me?”

“oh, cloud.” you whimpered, he loved it when you said his name like that. his face trailed down to your, neck the peaks between your breasts until his hands lost the grip of your wrists to cup your breast, the thumb grazing over the sensitive peak, rolling them between his fingers. the other squeezing your ass. his lips latched onto your nipple, sucking them into his mouth. his hips drew out completely, until it was just his tip left in you just to push back in inch by inch. it was driving you crazy, and yet it was keeping him from spilling into you too early.

“you don’t know how bad i needed you, so good.” he whispered. your hand tangled into his hair, the other digging into the flesh of his shoulder. he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, flicking it with his tongue. you could feel your core clench around him as he switched to the other, his hands supporting your weight. the way his mouth felt on your sensitive skin was heavenly. you clenched around him from the shockwave of pleasure, you felt him twitch. he groaned, the vibration of his voice making you shiver. “you drive me insane.” you were going to ask what you were in a minute, the way he made you feel on an emotional level just made everything that much more intense. “i want you all to myself.”

his sucks grew harder, more insistent, the sounds of your combined breathing filling the small apartment. your moans grew louder, mixing with the occasional whine as he stretched you open, his cock thick and demanding. he could feel your nails digging into his skin, urging him to go faster, deeper.

he pulled away as his control thinned, hand leaning against the headboard while his other gripped your hip tightly, the sound of his groans filling the room. his pace picked up as he got more urgent, hips snapping with a rhythm that made you wrap your legs around his waist. you threw your head back pleasure quickly building in your belly, your pulses starting to get more frantic, begging for more.

“ah! cloud! yes- oh!” his need was getting more urgent with each thrust, the way your body was moving against him was mesmerising, your breasts bouncing in the dim light, his eyes were stuck on you as he quickened, getting rougher, watching your chest rise and fall with each irregular breath and moan, your lust playing out just for him in fusion with your flushed face, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, it was just enough to make him come undone as he felt you pulse and clench around him frantically.

his thumb found your way to your clit, teasing it as he fucked you. that was it for you. your walls clamped down on him, shaking as your orgasm crashed through you. you bit your lip desperately to stop yourself from waking everyone in the building up, nails digging into his back as he kept up his pace, chasing his own climax. he could feel it building quickly, balls tightening as he dug himself deeper into you, body begging for release.

“fuck, where do you want it?” your mind was gone, drunk with pleasure and the thought of his cum in you was too much to resist, you wanted to be his, all of him inside you.

“inside me,” you moaned. his eyes darkened, heart jittering in his chest, pounding against his rib cage. the idea of marking you with his cum, was so fucking hot, it sent a shiver down his spine and his cock throb even more insistently, movements getting more urgent and deliberate.

“are you sure?” his jaw clenched as he pushed himself closer and closer to the edge.

“yes cloud.” your voice with that pulse of your pussy around him sent him over the edge. he grabbed your hips, forcing himself as deep as possible, you felt it shoot inside you in waves as he groaned loudly, cock twitching with each spill.

“all of it, fucking take all of it.” he managed in ragged, raspy breaths as he buried himself deeper, you clenched and tightened around him instinctively, milking every drop, you were so sensitive you felt yourself get close again. everyone must have heard that. his body sloped over, wrapping around your waist tightly as he slowly pumped himself in you a few more times to fuck everything as deep as possible, all of his hot seed filling you completely, it couldn’t be possible to have that much cum. you moaned softly as you felt yourself get overcome with the sensation again, a second orgasm, becoming a twitching and shivering mess all over again.

he laughed quietly, his body still trembling with the aftershock of his release as he continued to pulse inside you. he leaned down to kiss you again, you could feel each other’s heart race as your bodies pressed against each other.

“you’re something else,” he murmured against your swollen lips, your legs were still trembling, and you were still deliciously full of his cum and hard dick. you realised how much you wanted this to be more than just a drunken hookup without any courage to say anything.

he took another moment to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours sweetly. “i want to go down on you until you pass out.” his soft voice did not match that nature of that sentence, you felt your cheek heating up at the words. “but i’ll let you get some rest, you need it.” his gentle kisses trailed down your neck, carefully flipping you over so he didn’t slip out of you, your bodies fit perfectly against each other as your head rested against his chest, his hands playing with your hair as you pulled the covers up.

his breath was warm and steady against your cheek, you felt so safe, he was so warm and big underneath you. your eyes grew heavier, the room still slightly spinning, in complete bliss. his other arm around you tightly, holding you closer, his heartbeat like a lullaby. and that’s when the gravity of what happened weighed on you, you didn’t want him to leave tomorrow, you really liked him, and he didn’t even know your last name.

you sat up, looking down at him, his eyes still closed and breathing steadily. “cloud?” you whispered, unsure if he was asleep. his eyes fluttered open, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “yeah?”

his hand squeezed your side, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through your body. “can i ask you something?” you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

“of course, what’s on your mind?” he sat up with you, his smile fading slightly as he sensed your shift in mood.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, your heart in your throat. “what is this going to be between us? i mean i know it’s not a relationship, and i just need to know if this means anything to you or if it’s just a one-night thing?” you whispered, staring at the ceiling.

cloud’s hand stilled on your back, his smile fading into a contemplative line. “what do you want it to be?” he asked, his voice low and serious. you felt his eyes on you, waiting for your answer.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, feeling the weight of your words. “i just know that i really like you, i don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.”

cloud’s gaze was intense as he studied your face, his thumb gently stroking the curve of your waist. “i like you too,” he said finally, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to resonate through you. “i just don’t want to hurt you. I’m not good at this sort of thing.”

the confession hung in the air. you could see the fear in his eyes, had he been sober it would’ve been a definite no. yet, here you were, entangled in each other’s arms.

”can we see where this goes?”

he took a deep breath, gaze not leaving yours. he wanted you so badly, but a hint of his sober self was warning him, he ignored it. “yeah, let’s see where this goes.” his arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you closer as he kissed the top of your head. his dick was still semi-hard inside you as you drifted off.

…

you were woken up by the orange glow across your room from the windows. cloud’s arms were still around you, you looked up, his face peaceful with his messy hair splayed across your pillows, chest rising and falling. his morning wood was still inside you, it was already starting to stir, growing in length and thickness as he slowly woke up, your body was still sensitive and full from last night, you squirmed slightly.

his eyes slowly fluttered open, feeling your movement, his sleepy eyes met yours. he smirked, remembering what was happening

“good morning, to both of you.” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly from sleep. his fingers circled your hip, his cock fully hard now, rolling it up into you.

“cloud!” he covered your mouth, not wanting to wake up your whole apartment block, his other hand sliding down to your clit, grazing it enough for you to gasp into his palm. your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he moved his cock inside you, shallowly thrusting in and out, feeling you clench around him.

“see, you don’t mind it, do you?” you felt his back muscles tighten under your hands, your face on his chest, flexing as he picked up his pace. he leaned in to kiss the top of your head, his hand moving to grip your thigh and keep your open for him.

his strokes grew deeper, his cock sliding in and out of you, lubricated by the mess of the night before. your breath hitched as you felt him hit that spot deep inside, making your toes curl. he was like a different person with you, easy going with no need to hide himself, confident. his movements got stronger and more demanding, so big he filled you up completely, stretching you out all over again.

his hips were slapping against yours, echoing throughout the room mixed with your muffled moans and his groans of pleasure. he hit that spot inside you repeatedly, making your mind go numb all over again, tensing around him, orgasm building up quickly. it didn’t take much for either of you to finish, both still sensitive from last night. his hips jittered, your pussy contracting around his cock as he pushed through your walls, pressing you down on him. it twitched inside you, sputtering hot cum inside of you again.

his breathing was ragged, flipping you over again so he was on top of you as he slowly pulled out despite the suction of your pussy, being left empty. some of it leaked out, but he fingered it back in, making you shiver and moan. he chuckled quietly, looking at the state of you.

“good morning to us.” you said as he lay his head on your chest, continuing to push in and out of you. he looked around your room, it was as big as his, though a lot more lived in and homely. books stacked up on the floor, notebooks and makeup from last night splayed out on your desk and a scythe in the corner of the room which caught his attention.

“i’m gonna go clean up.” you whispered, trying to slip out of bed, his arms tightened around you

“stay a bit longer.” he mumbled against your neck, it was clear he was about to sleep again. “it’s only 6.” the warmth of his breath tickling your neck.

“i would love to, cloud. but i do have work.”

his eyes searched yours, the conflict of his want versus your needs. "i'll make it quick." he whispered, kissing your forehead before rolling off you, his cock sliding out of you with a wet sound that made him groan. he stood up, grabbing your hand, pulling you off the bed. the warmth of his cum trailed down your thigh. "we can shower together."

you nodded, following him to the bathroom, the floor cold against your bare feet. the shower was already running, the sound of water hitting the tiles echoing through the room. cloud stepped in, holding his hand out for you, the water washing over him, his muscles rippling as he moved. you stepped in, the warmth wrapping around you, his arms enveloping you again.

his hands roamed your body, the water slipping over your curves, his eyes tracing your figure. “you’re so beautiful.” he murmured, pressing his lips to your neck. you leaned into his touch, his hands moving down to your ass, squeezing it gently, making you giggle.

cloud picked up a washcloth, soaping it up and moving it down your body, his eyes never leaving yours as he washed you off. the warmth of the water washed over you both, mixing with the steam that filled the small room, the scent of your combined arousal still lingering in the air. his soapy hand reached between your legs, washing off the mess of the night, his thumb grazing your clit, making you jump.

his eyes were on your face, watching every little reaction, the way your eyes would roll back at the slightest touch. “can’t get my hands off you.” he chuckled, kissing the side of your neck. his other hand cupped your face, tilting it up to look into your eyes. “you really do drive me crazy.”

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling his hardness press against your thigh. ”do you ever take a break?”

“this is your fault. you’re too tempting,” he said, his voice a low growl. he stepped closer, pressing you against the tiles as he dropped the washcloth. his hand went back to your neck, tilting it to the side, kissing the pulse point. “but i’ll behave for now.”

his hands were gentle but firm. you leaned into him, your breasts pushing against his chest. he took his sweet time, washing every inch of you, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he was afraid you would disappear if he looked away. your heart fluttered at the tender way he touched you, while your hands ran over his arms, washing him off.

his cock was hard again, brushing against your stomach. it was clear he wasn’t done with you, but he didn’t push it, he knew you had to get ready. instead, he kissed your forehead and stepped back, letting you wash off the soap. you watched him under the water, the way his muscles flexed.

you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself, feeling the warmth of the air hit your wet skin. he followed you, his own towel around his waist. you get into a clean set of comfy clothes, you gave Cloud one of your large sweatpants you normally slept in. "you can keep it," you said with a smile, watching him put it on. "i have plenty."

“why? you do this often?” he asked.

“the opposite actually.” you said.

you both looked at the clock again, it was only 5 AM, and the sun hadn’t fully risen. “why don’t we just cuddle for a bit longer?” you suggested, pulling off your bed sheets and changing them, he helped you spread ita cross your matress, your voice filled with hope. Cloud’s eyes lit up, he didn’t hide his enthusiasm.

“i thought you had work,” he said, walking back towards the bed and pulling the covers aside for you to slip in next to him.

“well, i do… at 5pm.”

“what?”

“i work at a bar, it's a night shift today so i've got the whole day off."

"i wish i could stay here with you but i have to get back to sector 7 at 8. my friend owns a bar and she does need my help if i want to continue to have a place to stay."

"that's cool, are you a bartender?"

"mercenary. i thought i told you this last night?"

"oh." you remembered, though it was still surprising. "sorry, i think i was just more focused on some other things from last night."

he laughed quietly. "don't worry."

you lay there for a bit longer, basking in the warmth of cloud’s embrace, listening to the rain tap against the window. His arm was draped over your waist, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin just above your panties.

“when will i see you again?” he asked absent mindedly.

you turned to look at him, his eyes still sleepy but filled with something that looked a lot like hope. “im free tonight after my shift, though it's about 1am.” you said with a playful smile. that was perfect, aerith and tifa would've been asleep by then, he could sneak out to see you.

“i’ll make it work,” he said, his voice filled with determination. you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your chest, his willingness to make time for you was something you weren’t used to. “i want to see you again, badly.”

cloud’s hand stilled on your shirt, his eyes looking at yours with a mix of guilt and excitement. the guilt was something he wasn’t used to feeling. he was a mercenary, used to taking what he wanted and moving on, but with you it was different. the thought of not seeing you again was unbearable, and he felt guilty for feeling this way, knowing he might be leading you on, he couldn’t help himself. he warned you last night.

you nodded, trying to keep the hope off your face. “i’ll be waiting for you.” you leaned in and kissed him softly, feeling his cock twitch against your thigh, it was clear he wanted more but he knew he couldn’t push it. you both laid there, your bodies entwined, talking about everything and nothing until the sun had fully risen, and suddenly it was 7.30, and he had to leave.

his kiss was gentle as he pulled away from you. “i’ll see you tonight then,” he said, getting back into his soldier uniform. you gave him a peck on the cheek before he left your apartment, the cold air of the early morning a stark contrast to the warmth he left behind.

…

leave a comment if u want a part 2, i’m undecided <3

[misettemisette]

Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clásico

Starting over In Madrid

Summary: After moving to Madrid as Real Madrid's new photographer, Nicky can’t seem to take her eyes off the pretty face Misa Rodríguez. But how will she handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her contract strictly forbids dating players? WC: 4K words TW: suggestive PS: French writer Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"You don’t come after training because we’re still grounded ?" 

Misa’s text lifted my heart. With the Clásico and games abroad coming, I had a huge amount of work keeping me out of the stadium. I had shut myself in my office for three days now, importing, retouching photos, and thinking about the next games’s visuals… Since resisting the goalkeeper was becoming more and more difficult, I had to admit I was relieved to be able to avoid her.

I thought for a moment about what to answer. As soon as she had stood up from that bench on the evening at the park, Misa had been her funny self again. She had joked happily. We had said goodbye at the entrance of the parking lot. Like friends do. If she had been disappointed, she had hidden it well. 

And now she was texting me about not coming to our photo meeting in a casual yet flirty way again…

"Feels like I’m the grounded one… work is keeping me trapped in my office!" I texted back.

"👉🤓" 

"🫠👋"

She started typing and stopped. Her text bubble didn’t reappear. I sighed. I hated having to be distant with her. I sighed again and buried myself back into work. 

Fifteen minutes later, loud, erratic knocks boomed against the door of my office. 

"What…?" 

Without waiting, Misa, Hayley, and Sofie burst into the room. "Here she is ! You believed to could get rid of us that easy Nicky?" Hayley asked as the three girls came around my desk. Misa had brought a ball and severals biscuits with her. 

"What are you doing here?!" I said, already annoyed. I had a feeling they weren’t here to help me… 

"We’re checking if you’re still Nicky and not a robot." Misa dropped the biscuits on my desk and started to play with her ball, bouncing it between her foot and thigh. Sofie was leaning toward my computer screen. "Do you have new photos of me?". Hayley was examining my cameras from every angle. "I’ve never seen this one, would you recommend it Nicky?" The dull sound of the ball bouncing rhythmically constantly filled the room. I couldn’t believe how quickly they had created such a mess.   

"Guys, a girl needs to focus right now!" I said, eyes closed, with a hand on my forehead. 

"Oh, you can keep working, don’t mind us." Hayley had taken a camera and was back to taking pictures. Sofie joined Misa and they went passing each other the ball. There was no way I was going to be able to concentrate in this chaos. 

Just edit ten more photos tonight, I told myself. I grabbed back my pencil and graphic tablet, opened a photo of Olga striking, and started erasing an unwanted grass twigs on one of her socks. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Misa’s face approaching the screen while chewing a mouthful of biscuits. "What’s this? Are you drawing?" She asked, pointing at my tablet. The sound of the ball still echoed as Sofie had taken over. A few crumbs fell from the goalkeeper’s mouth.

"Misa! The keyboard !" I blew hard on it to make them go away. 

"Perdòn!" She stepped back and tried to swallow her snack. She gestured for me to explain again. That girl can be such a pain! 

"No, I can’t draw, I’m just correcting details. A pen is more precise than a mouse", I said to her.

"Oh, vale! Can I try it?" I glared at her. "I mean not now! When you have the time. And… I can teach you football in exchange". She added with an innocent smile. 

That girl will drive me mad! 

"Misa! Leave Nicky alone and come to my IG Live, the fans wants to see you!" Sofie called from the farthest corner. 

"Coming! Nicky, take a biscuit, son muy buenos!"

They kept going like this until they were forced to leave with me. I had painfully managed to do half the work I wanted to finish. Tomorrow is another day…

***

Alas, the next day was just the same. They came after their practice, making even more noise than before, until my boss finally showed up to send them away. Despite the chaos, it was a miracle I managed to finish everything at a relatively early hour on the eve of the Clásico. That meant I could be on time to catch Misa and Hayley after the motivational speech following that day’s training session.

The speech wasn’t over when I arrived near the meeting room and peered discreetly inside. The players didn’t seem very captivated. Olga’s legs fidgeted with impatience, and Linda appeared to be slowly zoning out. Fortunately, it ended shortly, and I exited the building to wait for my friends.

They arrived among the first. I could sense their nervousness behind the frank smiles they both gave me as a greeting.

"Hey Nicky, great speech, eh..?" Hayley hugged me. She was so tense. "Thanks for waiting, but I need to go home. I’m off, girls, see you tomorrow!" Misa patted her shoulder as she left, and Hayley roughly brushed her hair in return.

I turned to face the goalkeeper. "How are you coping?" I asked gently. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"Estoy bien…," she answered, peering down, her foot kicking at the floor aimlessly. She clearly wasn’t.

"Do you want to walk?" I asked without any ulterior motives. I just wanted to help my friend feel a bit better. She nodded.

We wandered around the sports campus and tried to talk about anything but the Clásico. At first, Misa kept jumping in place every now and then to shake off her stress. She relaxed once we started teasing each other.

"Misa, you can’t be near a ball without showing off! That’s insane!"

She smirked. "I’m an athlete, Nicky! Football is my life—of course I play with my ball all the time." She side-glanced at me, her mischievous tone and satisfied smile returning. "I did 65 rebounds yesterday."

I giggled. "Is that a lot?"

Misa’s disappointed and irritated expression had me laughing out loud.

She slapped me on the arm. "Jajaja, muy divertido! I don’t care what a girl who works at Real Madrid but knows nothing about football thinks!"

It was my turn to feign annoyance. "I see Trainer Misa is long gone before she even started…"

She opened her mouth but had no response. I’d made her sulk again. Grumpy Misa was one of my favorites, but her well-being mattered more than my amusement tonight. I gave her an exaggerated, admiring look, stopping in front of her like a crazed fan.

"Oh my God, are you Misa Rodríguez? The best goalkeeper in the world?"

"Stop it, Nicky. It’s not even convincing!" she complained, though a small smile stretched across her lips.

I continued my bad acting, bowing to her, taking her hand, and speaking in a distinguished tone. "Lady Misa, would you do me the honor of teaching me football?"

I hoped the idea of training would lift her spirits.

She laughed frankly and bit her lip, still looking a bit vexed. "Have you even ever played football?"

We resumed our walk as I pretended to search my memory. "It happened... twice, maybe. The first was at school, and the second was in the alley in front of my parents’ house."

She snorted. "No puede ser…" She shook her head, but then her voice turned curious. "For real, why did you want to work for a football club?" This time, her mocking tone was gone, making me really wonder how much I wanted to share.

"Oh… well, it wasn’t really intentional." I paused, searching for words. "I needed a change in my life. Nothing was… going well. I had a rough breakup and was really unhappy in my previous job…"

"I’m sorry to hear that," she said with a concerned look.

I half-laughed, half-sighed. "It’s okay now. I’m glad to be here. I really like Madrid."

"Bueno… and do you like your new job too?"

"Yes, I’m quite fond of it… and of my new exasperating friends," I teased her as we headed to the parking lot.

"I’m happy you’re good with us," she said, ignoring the teasing once again.

We arrived in the middle of the parking lot, and I wasn’t sure we were going in the same direction, so I gestured to the right. "I’m parked this way."

"I’m parked over here, but I’ll go with you to your car. I could use a bit more walking," she replied, sounding far less stressed now.

We reached my car and faced each other to say goodbye.

"Thanks, Nicky," Misa said softly. Her features were more relaxed. The walk had soothed her a little.

"You’re looking better. Are you sure you’re ready to go home?" I asked one last time.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she simply smiled and looked away.

"Misa?" I frowned, unsure of how to help her anymore.

Her head turned back to me. She bit her lip, her eyes locking onto mine. Then she slowly stepped forward.

My brows lifted, and I froze in surprise as she took my hands in hers. I knew this was it—there was no escaping this time, and I didn’t give a damn.

I half-closed my eyes, my head slightly bowed as she leaned closer. My gaze stayed on her quivering lips as she neared mine. At last, she pressed her mouth to mine. I let out a short breath, surprised by the tenderness of her kiss. Her lips were soft, her movements slow.

I kissed her back, letting relief wash over me, completely surrendering myself as her taste and scent filled my senses. Our noses brushed against each other, and the grip of our hands tightened as we continued kissing softly, slowly.

Finally, she withdrew her lips from mine, a soft smile lingering on them, leaving me missing their touch instantly. My eyes couldn’t leave hers.

"I’m ready now," she whispered.

I exhaled and gave her a shy smile as she released my hands.

"Good night, Nicky."

She stepped back and turned away. I stayed frozen on the spot, my heart drumming in my chest, my gaze following her until she disappeared behind the birch trees growing between the parking spaces.

***

Aitana Bonmatí ran swiftly, skillfully dribbling past everyone who approached her. She prepared her strike and shot between Ivana and Olga toward the penalty area. The ball landed perfectly at Salma's feet, and she immediately sent a powerful kick toward the upper left corner of the goal. Misa leaped with all her strength, and the tips of her gloves deflected the ball, denying Barcelona another chance to score.

The match had been grueling and demanding from the very beginning. Barça had been pressing Real Madrid relentlessly, constantly cornering them near their penalty area. Misa had already made five incredible saves, but when Mariona Caldentey outpaced all the defenders for the third time and delivered a well-aimed pass to Caroline Graham Hansen, Misa had gone the wrong direction. The ball rolled effortlessly into the net. Misa swore, got up quickly, and sent a long clearance that Hayley skillfully recovered.

Hayley, a fast runner, sprinted forward and passed the ball to Athenea, who dribbled past Irene Paredes. Using a split second of disorganization, she found Linda. Linda’s header miraculously flew past the expert gloves of Cata Coll and crashed into the net, filling the stadium with an explosion of joy.

Returning from halftime, Barça pressed harder and harder but couldn’t score another goal. Thanks to a clever discussion in the locker room during the break, Real Madrid was holding their ground better than ever, with Misa’s numerous saves halting Barça’s brilliant sequences of passes.

Then the unbelievable happened in the 78th minute. Naomie managed to escape Alexia Putellas’ marker and intercepted a ball from Oihane’s throw-in. Her quick, arched pass found Olga on the left side. From a rather distant position, Olga unleashed a shot worthy of the World Cup. The ball soared straight into the upper-right corner, leaving Cata Coll helpless. The stadium erupted, Madrid players hugging in celebration of their first-ever lead over Barcelona.

In extra time, Misa’s body crashed onto the grass again after saving another strike from Salma. The Madrid players were visibly exhausted, their movements slowing, their feet barely making contact with the ball anymore.

As they all took their positions for the corner kick, Misa gave directions to her teammates, preparing herself for the next action. Salma struck, crossing the ball from the goal line. It descended perfectly onto Alexia’s feet, who sent it crashing into the net. Barcelona had equalized in the 95th minute, victory slipping away from the Madrid girls’ grasp. The match was headed into extra time, and I could see Misa’s frustration as she pounded the grass with her fists before rising to her feet. As well-trained as they were, the team looked drained, and with Barça clearly dominating, extra time was going to be a living nightmare.

Misa passed by me as she exited the tunnel, heading toward her goal after the short break. I snapped a photo of her face—a mix of deep concentration and extreme fatigue. My heart sank. I had been covering the match with other photographers from the start, struggling to focus on my job instead of the intense pressure mounting on Misa.

The game resumed. The Madrid team formed two compact lines in front of the goal. They had clear instructions: defend at all costs and allow no goals. This strategy, along with Ivana’s quick footwork, prevented another Barça attempt from finding the net. The only two shots Madrid managed were met by Cata’s gloves, her clearances swiftly returning the ball to Madrid’s half. But they held their ground, over and over, through the first half of extra time.

In the second half, fouls and cramps multiplied on both sides, disrupting the game and giving players unnecessary minor injuries. Misa’s attempt to grab a shot by Mariona sent her rolling to the ground, her knee colliding painfully with the goalpost. The ball luckily hit the crossbar and was cleared by Kathellen, but Misa stayed down, clutching her knee through the thick padding of her gloves.

I shuddered. No, please! Let it not be a serious injury! I silently prayed as the medical staff rushed to her. A cluster of teammates surrounded her, blocking my view of what was happening.

I waited, barely breathing, unable to look at the last picture I had taken of her curled up on the grass, her features distorted in pain. What felt like an eternity passed before the medics left, the small crowd dispersing to reveal Misa standing again. Though she was breathing heavily and limping slightly, she was back on her feet.

Relief washed over me.

Misa returned to her position in front of the goal but handed the ball to Ivana for a long clearance. It was clear she didn’t have the strength to keep up with the pace. The ball was back in her penalty area within moments, but Madrid had finally cracked the code to establish a solid defense.

When the final whistle blew, it was to end the match at last.

The penalty shootout would decide the winner of the Copa de la Reina. More than ever, the outcome rested squarely on Misa’s shoulders.

The goalkeeper huddled with her teammates and coach near the bench, their expressions a mix of determination and exhaustion. From where I stood, I caught Misa’s eye—or thought I did—and gave her a supportive smile, raising my fist in encouragement. But her focus was unshakable, her world narrowed entirely to the game.

Madrid opened the shootout with Olga. She stepped up confidently, struck the ball cleanly, and scored. Cheers erupted from the stands, Madrid fans roaring their approval.

Misa took her place on the line for her first challenge. Caroline Graham Hansen approached, poised and calm. She struck, and the ball soared past Misa into the net.

Next, Claudia fired a hard shot aimed at the right corner, but Cata had read her intentions perfectly. With a swift dive, she blocked it with precision. Barça's fans erupted in triumph, their cheers drowning out the groans from Madrid’s side.

Aitana scored. Athenea scored. Mariona scored. Hayley scored.

Now it came down to the final shot. Everything rested on Misa. If she couldn’t stop the next kick, it would all be over.

Alexia stepped up to the penalty spot, her face composed, her body radiating quiet confidence. She armed her leg, struck the ball, and sent it soaring into the top corner of the net.

That was it. Madrid had lost.

The Barcelona players exploded in celebration, rushing onto the pitch as Madrid’s players stood frozen in shock and heartbreak. My camera hung limply in my hands. I had forgotten to take pictures, unable to focus on anything but the figure of Misa lying on her back in front of the goal, her gloves covering her face.

As Barça celebrated, Alexia broke away from her teammates. She crouched at Misa’s side, murmuring words I couldn’t hear. Slowly, she helped Misa to her feet, removing her gloves with gentle hands. Misa’s face was streaked with tears, her swollen eyes shut as she sobbed quietly.

The two walked toward the tunnel together, Alexia’s arm draped protectively around Misa’s shoulders. One of the other photographers was snapping pictures relentlessly, the sound of his shutter cutting through the air.

A wave of anger surged through me.

I got up and closed the distance between myself and the man. "Give her a rest, okay?!" I snapped, my voice sharp and loud.

The man looked at me in astonishment, his blank expression suggesting he didn’t understand English.

Noticing the commotion, Misa and Alexia stopped a few steps away. Misa lowered her head, unable to meet my gaze. Alexia, on the other hand, looked at me kindly. Her guilt was evident, a silent acknowledgment that she had played a part in her friend’s pain.

"I can take her to the locker room if you want," I offered, surprising even myself with the words. My job had been the last thing on my mind.

Alexia turned to Misa, waiting for her approval. Misa hesitated for a moment before nodding.

I stepped forward, gently taking over from Alexia. Without a word, I guided Misa into the tunnel, her quiet sobs echoing faintly in the stillness of the corridor.

I made Misa sit on the farthest bench of the locker room. Everything was quiet here, the screeches of the celebration reduced to a distant echo. The goalkeeper had stopped crying. Her board shoulders and muscular body seemed fragile somehow. I took a seat beside her, unsure of what to do now it was up to me to comfort her. 

"I’m sorry," I said softly.

"We were so close!" she cried. "Let’s just go! I don’t want to be there, I don’t want the puta silver medal again!" She blew her nose hard and rubbed her red eyes with a towel lying nearby. Exhaustion oozed from her at every level. 

"No, Misa, you can’t go" I responded, catching a surprised side-eye, as surprise as she could be in her current state. "You can’t go because everything’s not about wining or being the best! Football doesn’t have to be about that. It’s not about the score, the cup or whatever. Football is an emotion, a battle, a shared experience. And first and foremost, it’s a spectacle, and you put on one hell of a show as a team and as a player tonight! If you leave, it would mean nothing remains. You have to go back, Misa." 

Silence settled between us. I felt exposed and embarrassed by the words I had just spoken. It was ridiculous to be saying something so obvious to a seasoned footballer when I was barely discovering the sport myself.

The goalkeeper exhaled deeply. "You lied to me," she said, confusing me. She chuckled softly. "You acted like you didn’t know a thing about football." She painfully stood up and gestured for me to do the same. "But you do," she added, smiling as we faced each other.

The tall woman pulled me into a hug, her head resting on my shoulder, and I held her tightly. I gently stroked her back. Her jersey was wet, and she clearly reeked of sweat, but I didn’t care. I just wanted us to stay like this, clinging to each other.

After a minute or so, we parted and smiled softly at each other. Despite her weariness, Misa seemed less drained. She was waiting for... something, her expectant gaze fixed on me. Her dimples returned with her grin, lighting up her tired face. I kept smiling, my mind racing to figure out what I should do, what I could do… what I wanted to do. When she thought I wouldn’t do anything, Misa’s smile faltered a little, and she began to turn away. 

"Misa, wait..." I grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward me. I caught a glimpse of her surprised yet eager expression before I kissed her.

I cupped her face, pressing my lips harder against hers. Misa let out a soft whimper, the sound setting my body ablaze. I slowly guided her backward until her back hit the locker room door. She gasped at the contact, one hand tangling in my hair while the other gripped the hem of my shirt. She parted her lips, and her taste filled me completely, drawing a moan from deep inside me.

Our heated kiss sharpened all my senses and turned my body into white-hot iron. My hand acted on its own, slipping under Misa’s jersey and gliding up her toned abs. She whimpered again, her fingers mirroring mine to touch the bare skin of my waist. Her soft, full lips moved over mine as our breathing turned erratic.

Fevered with desire, I let my hand drift down her stomach toward the waistband of her shorts. She groaned and suddenly froze.

"Wow! Nicky, wait..." she said, her voice gentle yet firm. I stopped abruptly as she took my face in her hands. "I need to go back," she said, her burning gaze locking onto mine.

 I exhaled, trying to tame the flames devouring my insides. 

"You have to go back," I repeated with a small smile. 

She placed a last kiss on my lips before leaving the room.

At that moment, Hell Clásico ended on a heavenly note.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

[riddlers-left-buttcheek]

Commission Advice? (pls help)

Hey heyy

I wanna start doing commissions, but I've never done it before, and have no idea where to start. So I thought I'd make this post and ask any artist, that would like to share how they go about commissions, for advice.

I've summed up some of the questions that came to mind below the cut. I would want to take requests outside of Tumblr as well, just fyi. I'm well aware that most of what I ask depends on the individual artist and their works, and that there won't be a single formula to follow - I'd just like to gain a bit of perspective and see how different people go about these things, so that I can get an idea for myself.

Any helpful links to other posts or websites on this topic are much appreciated 💚

Replies to this in DMs are fine too ☺️

Questions below ⬇️

Communication?

Do you text with the client entirely through Tumblr (etc.) DMs, or do you use a different platform (like Discord, WhatsApp)?

Pricing?

My biggest issue is how much to charge for an art piece. I know it depends on multiple factors, like what type of drawing it is, is it lineart only, is it in colour, etc. Then there's also taxes. I've looked at a couple artists, but the prices vary so widely, and I have no idea where to put myself on that spectrum. I also have a huge problem knowing my worth, which definitely doesn't help.

Payment?

Which payment method do you use? My first thought was PayPal, I also read that many people use Stripe (that I never heard of before my research). And when do you ask for the transaction to be made? I've seen 50% upfront, the other 50% once it's done a lot. Some say to not give the customer the finished piece until you've received 100% of the money.

Slots?

How do you decide on how many you have available? Do have a fixed number or just take requests until you think you can't take any more?

Time?

How long does it take you to finish a request? Again, I know it depends on many many things. A couple examples would already help a lot.

Updates? Previews?

Do you give the client in-between updates on your progress? Do you send a preview before sending the finished piece? I've read that, before sending the final file, you should always have the images in low quality and with a watermark over it.

Changes?

If the client is dissatisfied with the final piece, do you allow changes? If yes, how many, where do you draw the line? Do you charge extra? Also, what do you do if the client doesn't like the entire thing?

Licensing

I absolutely suck at this, my brain just doesn't want to comprehend legal language. So most I've read on this, I still don't fully understand, but probably because I've never put it to practice. Is there a specific type of licensing you use? What do you tell your client on what they can do, but more importantly, can't do, with the art you create for them?

Final files?

In which file format do you send the finished art piece to the client? I was thinking pdf, maybe jpg and png? Also, how do you send it? In DMs? Per email?

Scams?

Also one of the more important questions for me, since I get paranoid about these things easily (and turn out to be right most of the time). Any advice on scams? I've read Instagram is filled with them, and to best avoid requests over Insta alltogether. Any experiences you've had, anything I should definitely look out for?

Any other advice?

Anything at all. I'm probably definitely overthinking this and it's most likely really not that complicated, but I'm a very anxious, insecure and paranoid person. 🙈 So I'll take any and all advice I can get.

Thank you 🤗💚

[creatur3featur3]

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: implications of sex trafficking

A/N: i'll eventually draw a reference for reader's build since i aleady did for Sevika

enjoy my loves

Heavy, that’s what most things that filled Sevika’s mind reminded her of.

Heavy, like the damn boxes she had to carry from one place to the other for Silco- Heavy, like the knowledge of what was happening in the Undercity- Heavy, like her hooves clicking against the concrete paths.

Being a centaur was normal around these parts, well for the most part, it was seen as strange of course but no one spoke poorly of centaurs- to Sevika’s knowledge at least. She had seen a good bit of folks like her, just trying to live their lives, their body always being different from the next person’s. Some young kid could have half of a deer, while a full grown man could have half a bear. It was relatively normal, easy even, which did make Sevika tense to say the least.

She came to a stop outside the bar she usually came to, sighing softly as her hind legs shifted with unease, the muscles twitching here and there. She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge tonight, or any other night, it was just another game of cards or another drink from the bar. Nothing different, just a simple routine.

Good, the unexpected brought problems with it that Sevika really didn’t want to deal with tonight, or for the rest of her life that is- she was comfortable with her little world.

Sevika exhaled sharply through her nose, adjusting the weight of the crates stacked high in her arms before shoving the bar’s door open with her shoulder. The familiar musk of cheap liquor and sweat hit her like a wave, but it was a comfort rather than a deterrent. The place was dimly lit, full of bodies hunched over tables, exchanging coin and hushed murmurs. The usual crowd.

Her hooves clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way to the counter, the bartender giving her a nod before sliding her a drink without asking. Routine. Good. Predictable. She lifted the glass to her lips, the burn of alcohol cutting through the ever-present weight that pressed down on her.

She didn’t bother sitting; stools weren’t exactly built for her kind. Instead, she leaned against the bar, one arm braced against the counter while her tail flicked idly. The weight of eyes on her back was expected, but no one dared to stare too long. Sevika had a reputation, after all.

A sharp laugh broke through the general din of the bar, dragging Sevika’s attention to a table near the back. A game of cards was in full swing, and judging by the tense shoulders and clenched jaws, someone was losing, bad. She considered joining in. She had the coin to waste and a need for distraction but- something held her back.

Or well, the sight of someone.

Sevika’s eye fell on a smaller figure that sat near the table, though the way they sat, like their legs weren’t able to fully rest against the chair. She tried to focus through the haze of smoke, and then she finally saw it-

No, not it- she saw you.

You sat next to a burly man, who was laughing like he had heard the best joke in the world, your spindly little deer legs, one resting over the other– but you didn’t have the back two… just two front deer legs replacing what would’ve been your human legs- you looked uncomfortable, terribly uncomfortable. The way your eyes flickered around the bar like you were sure something would jump out at you, the way your long narrow ears twitched and flicked about- listening to everything. You sure as hell didn’t look like you wanted to be there, that much was clear.

“Alright you old lot!-“ the man you sat next to growled with a smirk, “Whichever of you fellas actually manage to beat me in this round, I’ll throw it my little dress up doll,” He finished, looking over at you with a smirk that screamed he was way to confident for own good. “Give ‘em a smile, pretty girl.” The man purred- your eyes flicked to the ground, ears pinning back before he gave you a forceful nudge.

You nervously looked up, flashed a quick smile and looked back away.

Sevika's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening as she watched the scene unfold. Her instinct, the one she'd long learned to trust in the dark corners of places like this, surged. The situation reeked of discomfort, the kind of discomfort she knew well—familiar in its dread. But there was something about you, the way you held yourself, the way your eyes darted about the room with tension she could practically feel from where she stood. It was almost like you were trapped.

The man beside you—loud, obnoxious, full of himself—was clearly trying to have his way, and Sevika didn’t like it one bit. Her tail flicked sharply, agitated, her hooves shifting as she eyed him. The last thing someone like you needed was more attention from people like him.

A few of the patrons around the table laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. But Sevika, her muscles tensed and her mind calculating, didn't care about their amusement. She was more concerned about the fact that the man had gotten toocomfortable with the idea that you were a prize for his games, a pawn in his little act.

She exhaled through her nose, her large hands tightening around her drink before she set it down with a little too much force. The bartender shot her a look, but Sevika just gave a shrug. She could take care of herself, but sometimes, there was something about watching others suffer that made her blood boil in a way she couldn’t quite ignore.

Her hooves clicked louder as she approached, her presence undeniable, though she didn't move too quickly. It wasn't about making a scene—it was about making sure the right kind of attention was drawn. The game was still in motion, and Sevika was more than used to walking into places with a certain weight about her. Her reputation was solid—if anyone wanted to question her, they'd have to do it directly.

She stopped just short of the table, looming slightly over you, but not so close that you’d feel more boxed in. Her voice, when it came, was low, calm, yet cold enough to slice through the laughter.

"You might want to lay off," she said to the man with a slow, deliberate drawl. Her words hung in the air, the silence after them thick with something approaching menace. "You don't want to upset the wrong person tonight."

The man blinked, startled by the interruption, then grinned, though the edges of his smile faltered when he realized exactly who had spoken. Sevika’s reputation preceded her, and no one with even an ounce of common sense wanted to challenge her in situations like this.

"You think you can just come in here and—" The man started, but Sevika didn't let him finish. Her gaze snapped down to him, sharp and unwavering, the kind of stare that made most people take a half-step back.

"Try me," she said simply, her tail flicking behind her, her posture unyielding.

The man hesitated, his confidence shrinking, just a little. It wasn't fear that seeped into his expression—no, this was a game to him, and he'd just realized the stakes had changed.

"You're a real piece of work, aren’t you?" He sneered, but there was no real bite to it now.

Sevika didn’t say another word to him. Her eyes moved to you instead, softer now, a quiet understanding crossing her features. "You alright?" she asked, her voice gentler, though still heavy with the weight of her presence. Her tone was genuine, but there was an underlying command in her words. She wasn’t asking for the sake of politeness; she was asking because she-

No, Sevika didn't care, she wasn't supposed to care- you obviously couldn't stand for yourself let alone scare off the creeps that kept you like a little prize- she was just helping you out, simple as that.

Like feeding a stray dog on the street, just helping it survive another day. 

“Look Sevika, we're just having a little fun, she doesn't mine, really- don't you, Doll face?” the man sneered, giving you a light tap on the shoulder- you jumped slightly at the contact, skittish, Sevika noted.

“..No.. I don’t really mind…” you whisper, your voice was softer than Sevika has expected, her sharp pointed ears straining to hear you.

Sevika didn’t believe that for a second.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked down at you, watching the way your hands curled into fists on your lap, the way your shoulders hunched in on themselves. The way your eyes refused to meet hers. You were lying, but not in the way most people lied to save their pride. No, this was different. This was a quiet, careful kind of lie, one shaped by fear and necessity. The kind Sevika had seen too many times before.

Her gaze flicked back to the man, who was still smirking, all confidence and arrogance. He thought he had already won this little exchange. He thought she would back down because you weren’t fighting back yourself.

Sevika exhaled slowly, then, without a word, moved. Not fast, not aggressive, just enough. One large, scarred hand landed on the table between them with a dull thud, her fingers curling slightly as if testing the weight of the wood beneath them. The air shifted, thick with the unspoken promise of violence.

The man’s smirk wavered.

“Didn’t sound very convincing,” Sevika murmured, her voice low, even. “Maybe you didn’t hear her right.”

The man scoffed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression now. “Come on, Sevika,” he tried again, laughter creeping back into his tone. “No need to get all tense. It’s just a bit of fun.”

Sevika tilted her head slightly, her dark eye gleaming under the dim bar lights. “That so?” she mused, fingers drumming once against the table. Her tail flicked sharply behind her, a small, subtle movement, but one that carried weight. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like she’s having any fun.”

Silence stretched between them. The other men at the table shifted uncomfortably, their own amusement curdling as the tension in the air became undeniable.

The man’s jaw tightened, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew pushing Sevika further wouldn’t end well for him. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he drawled. “Didn’t know you were feeling all heroic tonight.”

Sevika didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she simply straightened up, her looming presence casting a long shadow over the table. “Didn’t know you were feeling so desperate you had to bet people like coin,” she shot back, voice still calm, still unreadable. But there was steel beneath the words, a warning that cut deeper than any raised fist ever could.

The man huffed out something between a laugh and a scoff, then turned back to his cards as if the entire interaction had been nothing more than an inconvenience. “Whatever. Just trying to liven up the game.”

Sevika didn’t acknowledge him again. Her focus was on you.

She motioned you to get up, her calloused and steady hand, her expression unreadable. “Come on,” she said, not unkindly, but firm. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to—Sevika could see it in your eyes, the desperate, quiet yearning for an escape—but because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. If stepping away was something you could actually do without consequence.

Sevika didn’t rush you. She just stood there, an immovable force against the chaos of the bar.

And then, finally, with a shaky breath, you reached out and took it.

The bar was still filled with murmurs and lingering stares as she led you away, but Sevika ignored them all. She didn’t let go of your hand until you were outside, the cool night air wrapping around the both of you like a much-needed relief.

You seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you stepped out of the bar, your ears relaxing and nub tail shaking. Your legs looked about 4x smaller than Sevika, hell- they probably were.

Sevika’s hooves clicked as she shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, tail flicking as she stared down at you. You glanced around the street, ears perked up, eyes surveying the area around you. You seemed more deer than human to her…

“Hey, Bambi,” Sevika spoke, catching your attention as you turned to look at her, “You should get going, doubt those men won’t leave you alone for long.”

Your face twisted in curious confusion, “But I thought..-“ you started

“I did you a favor, I got you out of there, now you do me the favor of getting out of here,” Sevika stated, muscular legs straining as she turned and started walking away- leaving you… alone.

Sevika’s ear shot up, catching the sound of quick soft steps, hooves- Sevika turned slightly to find you trailing after her.

Great, now she’s got a lost fawn following her around. Just what she needed.

Sevika's patience thinned as the sound of your quick, hesitant steps came from behind her. She knew what this was, what it meant: you didn’t know how to be alone, didn’t understand the value of independence. She could hear the shuffle of your hooves, the soft scuffle of your uneven gait, and it annoyed her—greatly.

Her tail flicked, like an irritated lash, as she continued her stride down the dark, narrow street. There was a cool breeze, but it did little to ease the simmering tension in her chest. She didn’t want to feel responsible for you. That wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t a hero. She was just a damn fixer, someone who made sure things didn’t get too out of hand, someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone outside of what was in her own sphere.

Still, the soft patter of your hooves grew closer. Damn it.

Sevika came to a sharp stop, and without warning, she snapped her front legs out, the powerful muscles in her quadrupedal form propelling them back to deliver a swift, sharp kick toward you. The motion was practiced, quick—designed to push you back, to show you that you needed to keep your distance.

It worked, albeit not as much as Sevika had hoped. Yes you had jumped back, not as far as she had wanted, your reaction much quicker than her action. 

“Back off,” she barked, her voice edged with frustration, though it wasn’t angry, just... resigned. "I didn't sign up for a damn pet project, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her tail flicked again, the tip sharp and twitching as she turned slightly to look at you, her gaze firm and unyielding. It wasn’t pity, wasn’t kindness. It was just the harsh reality of what Sevika knew. You had to learn how to stand on your own. The world didn’t care about who you were, what you looked like, or how many legs you had. The world would swallow you whole if you didn’t fight back.

Sevika shifted on her hooves, the muscles in her back and legs tight as she stood, unmoving, waiting for you to either turn around and walk away or face the consequences of following her too closely.

She wasn’t here to take you in, to protect you. She was here to get away from that damn bar and the mess of that night. You were just a distraction. Just like the rest of them.

And yet, she couldn’t help but watch your face, the way you looked so lost. As if you didn’t know what to do next, unsure if her words meant anything. Sevika’s mouth twisted into a thin line. She didn’t care. She really didn’t, never had never would.

“Do you, know where food is…?” You finally asked, though, Sevika had to bend down a bit to even hear your voice.

“Sure, there's a butcher a few streets down,” Sevika said calmly. Your nose scrunched slightly at the mention of butchers, “I… don't eat meat.. can't, actually…”

Sevika paused, her brow furrowing at the unexpected response. She had already half-turned away, ready to keep walking, but your words stopped her. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, turning back toward you.

"You don’t eat meat?" she echoed, though it wasn't a judgment, just genuine curiosity. She hadn’t expected you to say that. Most people around here didn't have the luxury of being picky, let alone turning away from meat in a place like this. It was survival more than a choice for most. "Then what do you eat?"

You fidgeted, almost uncomfortable under her gaze. The dim light of the street lamps cast shadows across your face, and the vulnerability in your posture was hard to ignore. Your tail twitched nervously, and you seemed to shrink just a little, caught between wanting help and feeling ashamed for asking.

"I... I don't really know where to get vegetables, or... other things," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't really go out much."

Sevika studied you for a moment, something like understanding flickering beneath her usual tough exterior. You weren’t just some meek little thing to pity. You were a person with your own set of struggles, your own way of surviving in a world that clearly didn't care about anyone's comfort.

“Look, there’s a food stall over on the next block," Sevika said, her tone a little softer now, though still matter-of-fact. “They sell things like fruits, breads, and vegetables. Not great, but it'll fill you up if you’re starving.”

She didn’t wait for a response, turning her back to walk again, but her steps slowed slightly, her eyes glancing back toward you. You seemed almost hesitant to follow, like you weren't sure if you'd be accepted at all.

Sevika's lips pressed into a thin line as she exhaled sharply. She didn’t know what kind of mess you were in, but something told her you didn’t need to be left out here on your own, wandering the streets like a lost animal.

-

Sevika didn't know what she was doing here, she should be home, relaxing, getting ready for tomorrow, but here she was, stood next you as you carefully ate raspberries, your long legs almost touching the ground as you sat in the stool.

You nub tail flicked and wagged time to time, ears perking up here and there, just carefully listening. You seemed the most relaxed she had seen you the whole night just eating.

Sevika leaned against the counter, watching you with a strange sort of detachment. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stood there, eyeing the way you ate, your movements slow, deliberate. There was a certain calm in your posture now, like you weren’t so worried about the world falling in on you. You seemed small—small in a way that made Sevika feel like she had to force herself not to watch too closely. Not to care. She wasn’t in the habit of watching people unwind, especially not after she’d done a favor for someone.

But there you were, sitting on that stool with raspberries stained on your lips, your tail flicking like it had found some fleeting sense of comfort. You looked... normal. Like you weren’t constantly bracing for something bad to happen.

Sevika shifted her weight uncomfortably. The silence between you was filled only by the faint murmur of the stall's noises around you. People moving, talking, the clink of change. It should have felt mundane, but there was something about it that felt different tonight—like her world, the world of toughness and constant motion, was blurring a little.

She hadn’t meant to bring you here, hadn’t meant to stick around to watch you eat. But when you looked up at her between bites, those big doe eyes catching the dim light, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Don’t go making a habit of getting that comfortable,” Sevika finally spoke, her voice rougher than she intended. She didn’t know why she had to say something, but it felt like if she didn’t, she might just keep standing there until her feet fell asleep.

You blinked at her, chewing slowly, then offered a soft, tentative smile. It was one of those smiles that made Sevika wish she could shrug it off, but she couldn’t—because it was too... honest.

“Thanks,” you murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear over the background noise. “It’s nice to not feel... watched.”

Sevika’s jaw clenched for a moment before she relaxed it, her expression hard to read. She didn’t want to have to admit that there was something in your words that made her want to do more—something that scraped against the wall she’d spent so long building around herself.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice softening against her will. “Just don’t go around getting yourself into trouble, alright? I’m not always gonna be here to pull you out.”

You nodded quietly, but Sevika noticed how your shoulders lowered a little, how the tension seemed to slip away from you, piece by piece, with each bite you took. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her—why her mind kept drifting back to the way you looked so unguarded now, so small, so… human, in the best and worst ways.

She shifted uncomfortably again, eyes flicking to the door as if the action might ground her in the reality that this wasn’t her business.

And yet, she stayed.