#when the wolves all cry « IC »

[indomitus-ferox]

“Wise idea.”

Besides, talking to Nor Fel would be the boring part of their day. If anything, she was most looking forward to travelling along the Forgotten Highway at high speeds with the wind in her hair and the roaring and shaking of her Warthog to remind her that she was alive. It would be interesting to see Church’s reaction not only to the high speeds she was capable of reaching, but also, the highway itself.

It was sad, but in a melancholic, poetic way. A reminder that not everything on Venezia was as built up as New Tyne, perhaps never would be.

“I shouldn’t be long, anyway. I just have an outstanding payment to make and I’ve gotta pick up my Ninja.” The sleek sports bike still needed some fine-tuning, and if she needed to go out into New Tyne while working on her bike and things for Nor at the same time, she tended to leave the vehicle under the Skirmisher’s watchful gaze. She knew the Kig-Yar wouldn’t steal her bike — wasn’t in the old bird’s interest — and that Nor valued her enough to ensure nobody else stole it.

Her Ninja was a valuable commodity, if only because it was a working vehicle in good nick — much like her Warthog — and that wasn’t always easy to come by. It could make a decent ride for a hopeful... or a fuckton of credits.

@thestupidmeanone || thread shuffle

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / masterlist

It’s the sundress. 

The way it flows off your hips, your body moving beneath it, skin glowing just under the hem. You're lucent in it, radiant in a way he's never seen, brilliance so stunning it catches his breath. You’re a perfect peach, juicy and ripe, plump and sumptuous, skin so soft he’d only need a nip to tear into it, the barest bruise of pressure allowing him to drink his fill of precious honeyed nectar. 

There are dozens of people in the café, but he only sees you, can’t tear his gaze away, sick with the heavy tug in his heart, drawing him closer and closer, fingers tense around the flimsy paper cup. He stares, openly, even after Simon clears his throat, scuffs his foot against the sidewalk, says his name. 

Johnny has no patience for a kill, or a meal. He likes to rip into fresh things, soak his maw and stretch his jaw around them, swallow them whole if he can.

Swallow you whole, if he can.

A bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck, and he traces its path between your shoulder blades and below, mouth watering at the singular thought of a taste. 

His tongue licking down your spine to the cleft of your arse, soft, sweet skin parted for him, face crammed between your legs, panting, pushing, desperate for more, and more, and- 

“Johnny.”  

“Pretty thing.” He barely looks at his partner, the heat simmering in his stomach curling into a snare. “Little pocket a’ sunshine.” 

“Johnny.” 

“Ye see ‘er?” Simon’s eyes dig into him, and then you, following the seam of your dress from thigh to shoulder. There’s insatiable insanity in his face, and Johnny knows- 

He sees it too. 

“I do.” 

“Ye dinnae want a taste?” 

“Not enough time.” He nods next door, where the darkness looms, waits for them expectantly. A meeting, a negotiation, a riotous push and pull. The things he’s good at, the part of his job that doesn’t include intimidating or killing or orchestrating a disturbance. 

His hands sow choreographed chaos, but in this moment, he’d rather they do something else instead. 

Pin you down. Pry your thighs wide. Bury his face in your cunt. Would you struggle? Would you cry? Would you take it like a good girl, breathy and sweet, lips shocked into a perfect O for his thumb, pad of it pressed down on your tongue, taste- 

“Better think fast.” Simon warns, jolting him from the fantasy that has his cock swelling, and when he sees you heading for the door, dreamy smile on your face, iced latte precarious in your grip, a plan roars to life. 

It’s easy, to pretend it’s an accident. Easy to act shocked and embarrassed. Easy, to feel terrible about ruining your dress. 

Your gasp is music to his ears. 

“Oh my god-“ it’s almost too much, watching the crushing realization sink in across your features, the dismay at the sight of your newly acquired caffeine fix rushing down the front of your sunflower dotted dress. 

They’ll buy you a new one. They’ll buy you hundreds. 

“’m so sorry.” He croons, reaching to steady you, carefully gripping your elbow under the guise of balance. “Ah, bonnie. ‘m so sorry, I didnae see ye and I was rushin’.” 

“It’s… it’s okay.” You’re blinking too fast, trying to hold back tears, trying to keep yourself together. The patchwork, the glue and tape, parts and pieces easily crumble, even as you try to take a deep breath. ���I’m… it’s fine.” 

“Yer dress is ruined.” Obviously. “Let me pay to get it cleaned, at least.” 

“No, no… that’s… it’s okay. I’ll… I’ll just run home, no big deal.” He beats back the burn, the wildfire scorching away the last of his sanity. 

“Please.” Simon chimes in over his shoulder. “It’s the least we can do.” You look between them, confused, eyes wide like a little doe, lost all alone in the deep, dark forest.

Flanked by wolves.

“Or let us give ye a ride to yer place, so ye can change.” He jerks his head to the sleek black sedan, idling at the corner, driver still behind the wheel. The meeting can wait, they've got more pressing issues to attend, now. 

“Oh… uh-“ He can smell the rot of your hesitance. That’s the thing about a doe, they’re naturally skittish, trembling legs uneasy from the day they were born, nervous about their own shadow. “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s not far.” 

“I feel terrible, let me pay for it.” He pours it thick, and as expected, the guilt about making him feel worse locks into place. “I dinnae what I’ll do if we cannae help. If ye give me yer number, we can arrange to cover the cleaners?” Simon looms closer, fingers folding over Johnny's shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

You almost look relieved at the sight.

Poor little doe. 

In the end, you agree. When you give them your name, he traces over each syllable tenderly, memorizing the way it sounds on your lips, as Simon taps a phone number into your contacts.

"Ye go straight home an' change." Johnny murmurs, holding onto your hand a shade too long after you pass him back his phone. "Dinnae want ye walkin' around in a dirty dress all afternoon." You fidget, waxing crescent on your lips, and nod.

"I'll uh... I'll let you know how much it is." There's a hint of a tremble in the back of your throat, off key and off kilter, and he smiles to reassure you, before the two of them turn to take their leave.

"We'll talk to ye soon."

[drewsephrry]

guilty as sin?

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Words: 11.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, alcohol and drug consumption, cuss words, violence (punches mostly), cheating

Inspired by: Guilty as Sin? by Taylor Swift (and most of the songs from The Tortured Poets Department)

loml

party at top's 2nite

be ready by 8

Seen 5:53 pm

You

okay

i love you

Delivered 5:54 pm

You and Y/Bf/N have been together for three years now, but it feels a lot different than how it started.

At first he was really sweet, thoughtful and caring. He brought you flowers for most if not all of your dates. You loved him so much and trusted him with your whole life.

Although everyone around you seemed to have a very different opinion than you.

All the wine moms in their Sunday best would be clutching their pearls, sighing, whispering “What a mess!” whenever you would walk in the Country Club. They would shake their heads saying "God, help her" when you would tell them he's your man.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for you.

You had a lot of arguments with your parents about him and if he was taking care of you. Most of the arguments ending with you screaming “But daddy I love him.”

But lately, he was more distant.

When you went out or he was over at your house, where you spent most of your time together, he would sit on his phone. And you had gotten bored, feeling the need to cry when he left without kissing you or saying ‘I love you’ back.

But you couldn't just throw everything you had built away to the wolves or onto the ocean rocks.

You were in the middle of picking out an outfit for the party, when you heard the notification sound on your phone. You picked it up, expecting your boyfriend had replied but what you saw made you smile wider.

rafey

heard this today and thought of homecoming lol

*The Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile*

Seen 6:17 pm

Rafe had sent you the song that you had danced with him back in the homecoming dance that you hadn't heard in a while. You smiled at the memory and sent him a picture you had in your favorites folder, of you two in front of your staircase. Toothy grins and his tie matching the maroon color of your dress.

You

how could i forget?

*image attached*

Seen 6:18 pm

You and Rafe had been friends for many years, mostly because you and Sarah were best friends since you were both 5. That meant that you both spent a lot of time in each other's houses, going on vacations with your families and having family dinners almost each week.

You couldn't help but take a liking to the older Cameron, because he was always kind and sincere to you, despite what everyone else was saying. He was always there for you when you needed him.

When your homecoming date canceled on you at the last minute, Rafe stepped in without a second thought. Even if he was two years older than you and your friend group. Or when you first got your heart broken, he had gone out to buy you ice cream and stayed with you while you were watching ‘The Notebook’ with Sarah.

“He built her the house, Rafey!”

Or when you were in the Bahamas with the Camerons and your family and your period decided to ruin your vacation, Rafe was the one who went out and got you everything you needed.

“Can you unlock the door for me sweetheart? I got you the stuff.”

And afterwards stayed with you to ensure you were okay and did impressions of his family to make you laugh.

Or last year, when you and your friends had all decided to go to Florida. Everyone was high and they all reeked of weed. While you downed a bottle of wine and had accidentally locked yourself in the bathroom crying, wearing a short black skirt with the lacy details. Rafe was the only one who tried to help you out and when he finally got the door unlocked, he held you and tried to get you to quiet down.

“Shh, I know princess. You'll be alright”.

You were really ashamed to admit that Rafe had crossed your mind once or twice while dating your current boyfriend.

And you were mostly ashamed that he had invaded your mind in your more private moments with Y/Bf/N.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” Y/Bf/N’s head, between your legs, his chin glistening with your wetness, his fingers inside you searching for that sweet spot that made you see stars. The sweet spot only you had found.

But the way he whispered the nickname that you had only ever heard from Rafe, made you close your eyes and imagine it was him fingering you.

“Ye-yeah, babe. Can you go faster?” You whispered, your eyes still shut and your hips grinding on Y/Bf/N's face. He smirked and dove right back in.

Your mind was still on Rafe though, imagining his long fingers touching that sweet spongy spot, his mouth sucking your clit, while his other hand would grab one of your tits, playing with the nipple.

“Mine.” Rafe whispered, pressing a kiss on your upper thigh while his fingers worked wonders inside you.

And that brought you closer and closer to your release. Moaning loudly, thankful that your parents had gone out.

“Baby, you squirted.” Y/Bf/N whispered, making you open your eyes and staring at him, sighing.

Was it a crime?

rafey

will you go to top's party tn?

Seen 6:21 pm

You

yes

wbu?

Seen 6:23 pm

rafey

see you there princess

Seen 6:24 pm

You giggled and continued roaming your closet to find a dress. You needed to take your mind off of Rafe, quickly and effectively. But all you could actually do is play Taylor Swift loudly on your speaker and get ready for the party.

At 8, your phone rang and you saw your boyfriend's contact.

“Hey, I'm putting on my shoes right now. Do you want to come upstairs?” You put your phone on speaker, while tying your heels.

“I'm leaving my house now. I'll be there in five. Just wait outside for me, okay?” You could hear him, buckling his seatbelt.

“That's alright. I'll see you in a bit. I love you and drive safely!” You smiled, finishing with your right foot.

“Yeah, bye.” He said, hanging up. You sighed, trying not to cry to avoid messing up your makeup.

Why was this so hard? You could do it with a broken heart.

After five minutes, you went outside and he had just parked, looking up from his phone when he heard your front door close. You got in and leaned over the console to give him a kiss on the lips, which he accepted.

“Hi baby. You smell good.” He said, starting the car.

“Thank you. It's the perfume your mom bought me for my birthday. I've put it on before.” You replied, buckling your seatbelt, sighing once again.

When you reached Topper's house, he helped you out of the car and walked with you inside the house, searching for your friend group. You found them in the kitchen, mixing up drinks and talking shit about a pogue that crashed Kelce's car.

All of the boys started hollering when you and your boyfriend, holding hands, entered the kitchen, greeting him with high fives. Topper gave you a side hug and thanked you for coming, to which you just smiled and replied that you wouldn't miss it. You felt Y/Bf/N pulling away from you to talk more with the other boys while you just stood in the middle of the kitchen, playing with the hem of your dress.

“Hey! There's my favorite girl!” A familiar voice was heard and you looked up to find Rafe approaching you. Holding a beer bottle, dressed in a light blue polo that showed every muscle of his.

Crashing into him made you feel like he's a paradox, making you question everything, even your own sanity and morality.

“Hi Rafey!” You smiled and he hugged you tightly when he was finally close. His scent engulfed you in a daydream, as you hugged him back.

“Fuck, are you wearing that perfume your ‘mother-in-law’ got you? Smells really good, sweetheart.” He said, grinning like the devil.

You nodded, surprised and looked around to search for Y/Bf/N, who was now gone.

“Want a drink?” Rafe asked, making you nod once more. “Your usual?” His grin wider as he approached the cooler pulling out a watermelon flavored Whiteclaw. You thanked him when he handed it to you and you grimaced when a shirtless guy with sunglasses entered the kitchen and started yelling.

“Let's go outside. It's quieter. Come on” He said, pulling your free hand to follow him. You looked around once more for Y/Bf/N but nodded to Rafe and let him pull you outside. His tan, veiny hand, way bigger than yours making your mind travel at what his long fingers could do.

Are you bad or mad or wise?

You shook your head from the dirty thoughts fogging up your brain and flushing your cheeks.

“He is there playing beer pong with the guys. Don't worry.” He exclaimed, walking outside and sitting down on a chair, pulling you to sit beside him.

“How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” He asked, sipping his beer. “Why haven't you been to Tannyhill lately? Did you and my sister fight or something?” He continued asking, chuckling with the last question thinking that was impossible.

“I've been good. Just really busy. I was literally there last week.” You replied, taking a sip of your Whiteclaw, the drink refreshening you. You looked to the table, where your boyfriend stood with his friends as they yelled at someone to throw the ball. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the cerulean ones, you couldn't stop thinking about.

Thinking about how he would stare at you while he would lower his mouth where you would need him the most, leaving love bites all over your breasts, your tummy and thighs. Then he would come back and messily kiss you, as he would enter you, swallowing your moans.

“Y/N, did I lose you?” He chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of you as you removed yourself from your trance. You felt your skin heating up, as you looked down and played with the hem of your dress once more.

Without ever touching his skin, how could you be guilty as sin?

“I'm sorry. Just in my head these days.” You apologized.

“Why? What's up? Is something bothering you with mr. Boring guy over there?” He asked, nodding his head towards the guys.

“What? He's not boring. If somebody's boring me, I think it's me.” You said quoting one of your favorite poets.

“Dylan Thomas? Really?” you looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“Ho-Since when do you know Dylan Thomas?” you asked, never taken Rafe as a guy who reads poetry.

“Do you not remember? Last year? In Florida?” He asked, chuckling, also furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I called you a little alcoholic and you said that ‘an alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you do’. I asked you where you got that from and you said Dylan Thomas. So afterwards, I found some of his work and I was really enamored. I guess. I-It's lame.” He tried to explain, getting embarrassed and shaking his head.

“It's not.” You whispered, grabbing his hand, smiling. “It's really cool actually.” He shook his head grinning at you.

“So?” After a minute of silent stares, he asked.

“So what?” You asked back. “What's up with you and Y/Bf/N?” He asked again. You sighed, knowing you cannot lie to Rafe but also knowing that you cannot tell him the complete truth, which is you have been falling for him.

“I-we are…No. I can't and I won't lie to you, things have been…I don't know how to explain it. He's just been a little distant lately. And…I don't know if I should even be telling you this.” You tried to explain, chuckling.

“Come on, I've known you since what? Since you were 5?” You nodded. “I don't mind listening to you talking about this or anything. You should know by now that you can always come to me. Always, Y/N.”

“I know. Just feels kinda weird talking to the wrong Cameron.” You took another sip of your drink.

“Do you want me to wear a wig or some shit?” He said getting up, pointing towards the house like he was going to get an actual wig. Maybe he would, if you said yes. You pulled his hand to pull him back down and laughed at him.

“Don't! I just have never talked to you about stuff like that before.” You said, looking back at the beer pong table, noticing that your boyfriend was suddenly gone. You shrugged it off, thinking he went to get a drink.

“You don't have to. But if you ever want someone to talk to, you know where you can find me, sweetheart.” There it was again. You felt like melting on the spot.

“I know and thank you Rafey. I really appreciate it. I just feel-” “There you are! I looked everywhere for you!” Y/Bf/N slurred. You looked up and planted a small smile for him.

“Was here all along.” You said lowly to which Rafe snorted. “Got something to say Rafe?” Y/Bf/N scoffed and sucked his teeth.

Rafe and Y/Bf/N were never big fans of each other. They were forced to hang out because of the rest of their friend group and mostly, because of you even though you didn't want either one of them to feel uncomfortable being around the other.

“Let's just go. I need another drink.” You got up, grabbing Y/Bf/N's hand, before anything could start between the two. Rafe tightened his jaw and rolled his eyes looking away.

“I'll see you around, Rafe.” You greeted him, smiling sadly at him. He nodded, understanding and got up to join the rest of the boys.

The following weekend, Sarah had invited you over for a pool day. You were laying on the daybed, looking at your phone screen, waiting for a notification or a call to go off. You had texted your boyfriend, hours ago, to go to a party later the same day and he hadn't given a single sign of life.

“Y/N, turn it off. It's going to bother you for the rest of the day if you don't.” Sarah stated, coming out of the big mansion holding drinks in each hand. She handed you one, sitting down on the other daybed beside you.

“I'm sorry. You're right. I…it's just that things are weird between us. He's been ghosting me a lot lately and he's really distant. We barely hang out and when we do he's mostly on his phone or playing video games with the guys.” You confessed, sighing. Feeling like a weight has been lifted, finally getting the chance to talk about this with your best friend.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She asked, swirling her straw around her drink.

“No. Whenever I try talking to him about it, something happens. But there's more. Can I confess something to you?” You worriedly ask.

“Dude, did you murder someone?” Sarah jokingly asks, raising her eyebrows. “No! Sar!”

“Not yet!” She adds and you chuckle, shaking your head and then put your drink down.

“I need you to promise me to not say a word about this Sar. It's so embarrassing and wrong on so many levels.” You expressed taking hold of her hands.

“Y/N, you're scaring me. Of course, I promise.” She said, extending her pinky as well, intertwining with yours.

“Okay, so these last few days, maybe even weeks, I have had some thoughts. I have been thinking about someone else while I'm with Y/Bf/N. I-There's this guy that I think I have feelings for but I really shouldn't. I mean, it's wrong. It's so unfair towards Y/Bf/N. Fuck, I'm such a bad girlfriend.” You rambled, holding your head in your hands.

“Okay. Stop. You're not. You're the best girlfriend anyone could have. Y/Bf/N has never treated you properly and I know what I'm going to say is going to hurt, but he's not the one for you. Especially after treating you like this. And having these thoughts doesn’t make you a bad person or a bad girlfriend. I mean there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only actions talk.” Sarah reassured you, pulling your hands away from your face and giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“Okay, now that we got that off your mind. Who is it?” Sarah asked excitedly. You raised your eyebrows, opening your mouth to reply but you couldn't form any words.

“I…it's-”

“Hello, ladies!” Topper appeared just in time, Kelce and Rafe following.

Sarah got up to greet the boys and you stood up, walking towards the older Cameron first.

“Hey Rafey!” You greeted, wrapping your arms around his waist. His large biceps curled around your shoulders, bringing you in a tight embrace.

“Hi sweetheart! You okay?” He whispered and you pulled away from his chest, nodding with a small smile. Then you hugged Topper and Kelce, making small talk with both.

“Hey, wanna help me in the kitchen?” Rafe suggested.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, walking inside the house, Rafe following you towards the kitchen. You sat on the counter and saw Rafe grabbing three bottles of beer from the fridge, leaving them on the counter beside you.

“What's up?” He asked, coming to stand between your legs, his two arms caging you. You felt your breath hitching, your whole body warming up and your swimsuit getting damp at the sight of his tan chest and abs.

“What do you mean?” You asked, clearing your throat.

“You don't seem okay. And I'm kind of worried.” He confessed.

“I'm good. Yeah. Thanks for asking.” You looked down at your thighs. “You sure? You can always talk to me. If you want.” He rambled, as you smiled once more and nodded before looking into his eyes, filled with concern and wondering if he had ever thought of you as something more than his sister's best friend.

“Yeah, I know. And thank you, truly. I just am in a weird situation with Y/Bf/N. He hasn't answered any of my texts today and we have barely hung out lately.” You confessed, pouting. Rafe's blood was boiling, seeing how Y/Bf/N had upset you so much.

“I'm sorry sweetheart, it sucks that he treats you like this. You deserve better, you know?” He admitted, reminding you of what his sister told you mere minutes ago. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asked, only then making you realize how close you are to each other. His chain dangling from his neck, his abs and biceps flexing with each small movement and the black swim shorts clinging on his thighs that you'd want to ride.

“Honestly,” you sighed, “I have no idea. I need some time to think about everything.” You exclaimed, Rafe nodded giving you a compassionate smile.

“Come here.” He pointed to himself as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, making you wrap your own around his waist.

“I don't like seeing you sad. Especially because of him.” He added, making you chuckle in his chest.

“And you know what they say. Though lovers be lost, love shall not.” He exclaimed, adding another Dylan Thomas quote, this one happening to be one of your favorites too.

You pulled away from his chest and smiled wider, your eyes flickering between his blue ones and his plump lips. He licked his lips out of instinct and leaned in slightly.

“Yo, where are those beers bro?” Kelce entered the kitchen, making you and Rafe immediately pull away. You got off the counter grabbing two of the beers and walked towards Kelce, handing him one, before going outside to give Top his own.

“Fucking cockblock.” Rafe whispered, under his breath.

Some hours later, you were reading a book on the daybed, while the boys and Sarah were playing volleyball in the pool. They all got out and spread out to sit on the other daybeds by the pool to dry.

“You can join me, if you'd like.” You suggested to Rafe seeing he didn't have anywhere to lay down, pulling your sunglasses on your head.

“Do you mind?” He asked, approaching the daybed. “No, not at all!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and making space for him. He laid down, his skin touching you and cooling you down from the North Carolina heat.

In the span of a few minutes, quiet snores were heard as his chest went up and down with each breath he took. You couldn't help but sit and admire him and you reached with your hand to scratch his head.

The feeling of your hand in his hair, awakening him.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You apologized profusely. Rafe smiled and laid his head on your chest, wrapping one of his arms around your waist falling back to sleep while you continued the scratching, pulling a strand or two on the back of his head making him sigh in pleasure.

Thinking about how you would pull his hair while he ate you out or when you would make out and he would lower his lips to leave sweet kisses on your neck.

Suddenly you felt consumed by your fatal fantasies, despite knowing they're make-believe but they feel like binding promises with him that needed to stop filling your thoughts.

Looking at his eyelashes fluttering, his cheeks now red from being in the sun for the whole day and the freckles that adorned his shoulders started making you think about who else could satisfy him, if not you?

Who else could hold him like you? Who's gonna know him like you do?

Hours later, after taking a shower and doing your hair and makeup, you were in Sarah's bedroom trying to decide what to wear for the party.

“I still have that green dress you wore to Kiara's birthday last year, you could wear that.” Sarah suggested from her ensuite bathroom, as she applied mascara. You sighed, still roaming her closet for a cute dress. Suddenly, a knock was heard.

“Come in!” Sarah yelled from the bathroom, the door opening revealing a dripping wet Rafe with just a towel around his hips.

“Hey, do you have any idea where my shaving cream is?” Rafe asked, looking around the room for his sister, his eyes landing on you searching around the closet wearing an old shirt of his and shorts that didn't leave much to his imagination.

“Oh, sorry Y/N needed it.” Sarah said, pulling you out of your trance. “What? Oh, yeah. I'm sorry for that!” You apologized, walking to the bathroom to grab it.

“It's no problem.” He thanked you as you handed it to him. “In how long do you reckon you'll be ready?” He asked both of you, since he was the designated driver for the night, staring at you chewing on his gum.

“If Y/N ends up finding an outfit, I think in about 20. Maybe 30.” Sarah replied, coming out of the bathroom.

“You'd look good in anything, Y/L/N.” He winked, walking out of the room, shutting the door. You were left standing with your mouth open.

“Did you find something?” Sarah asked, putting deodorant on.

“I'm gonna do the green again.” You smiled, clearing your throat and walking towards the closet to grab it.

Rafe drove you and Sarah to the house where the party was held. Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you inside, before you got the chance to thank him.

You reached the kitchen and got drinks, before finding the rest of your friend group. You couldn't help but look around, searching for him.

Your eyes finally reached the ocean blue eyes and you smiled, as he took a sip from his drink nodding slightly at you. You shook your head smiling, feeling your phone vibrating in your bag. You pulled it out and your boyfriend's name popped up.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered. Sarah saw your shocked expression and looked down at your hands holding your phone.

“You're not picking that up. He fucking ghosted you for a whole day!” She exclaimed, taking it from your grasp and throwing it in her own bag. “Let's go dance! Get your mind off him.” She suggested, grabbing your hands and running to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room. The rest of the girls joined you, as well as some tourons who seemed to take a liking to all of you.

Rafe was staring at you, as a guy put his arms around you. You seemed uncomfortable, grimacing and pushing him away as gently as you could. Sarah even tried pulling you closer to her, shaking her head at him. But he was stronger, pulling you even closer than before. He started grinding his hips on your behind and you seemed disgusted and wanted to get out there. Rafe walked through the crowd, pushing some people to get to you faster.

“What's up man?” He asked, putting his arms on this guy’s shoulder pulling him from you.

“Yo, I'm kinda busy dude.” The touron replied, slurring mostly, grabbing your waist to pull you closer again.

“You're not. She's with me.” Rafe was irritated that he couldn't take no for an answer. This time he pushed the guy away from you.

“Yeah, right. Dude go find some other girl to fuck.” The guy exclaimed, coming closer again before Rafe stopped him by grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck dude?”

“You're going to leave her alone and you're going to get the fuck out of here.” Rafe's jaw tightened.

“You cannot tell me what to do.”

Rafe scoffed and looked at you.

“Can you hold my beer, sweetheart? Thanks.” He asked, handing you his bottle. Before you could look up from the bottle in your hand, a loud smack was heard and people hollered.

You looked up and the guy is on the ground, his nose bleeding and Rafe keeps throwing punches at him. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, as Sarah pulled you towards her.

“Rafe! Stop!” You yelled, pulling away from Sarah. Rafe, at the sound of your voice, stopped the punches. He got up, spitting on the guy, before walking away.

You looked around, at the crowd of people staring at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to say something but you just sighed and walked to the direction, Rafe had gone.

You were reaching the staircase, when you felt something or rather someone, pulling on your hand. You turned around and Y/Bf/N was there.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring my calls?” He demanded, tightening his grip around your wrist.

“Not right now Y/Bf/N.” You tried to escape his grip but he was stronger than you.

“What the fuck do you mean not right now? You fucking ghosted me!” He exclaimed, pulling you towards him.

“Now you know what that feels like.” You replied, finally escaping his pull on you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Get the fuck back here!” He yelled, but it was no use. You were already up the stairs, searching for Rafe. You entered two bedrooms until you reached the third to find him sitting on the bed holding his head in his hands.

“Rafey?” You whispered, entering the room and closing the door.

“I'm okay, Y/N. Go back downstairs.” He advised, raising his head to look at you. His hair was messed up, probably from his fingers dragging through it.

“How is your hand?” You asked, approaching him and taking a seat beside him. Softly, you grabbed his hand to examine it. His knuckles were bruised and bloody.

You got up and walked in the ensuite, searching for a first aid kit or anything that could help you clean up his hand. You found some gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You sat back beside him and pulled his hand in your lap as you carefully cleaned his knuckles, grimacing whenever he hissed from the pain and lastly you wrapped his hand in gauze.

“All better now.” You exclaimed, sighing.

“Thanks.” He whispered. “I'm sorry that you had to witness all of that.” He apologized, looking at his now bandaged hand.

“I should be thanking you. That guy was…I-I really appreciate you helping me. I don't know what would have happened if you didn't step up.” You reassured him, grabbing his hand once again. He looked up and stared into your eyes, as you got lost in his gaze.

“My sister is probably searching for you.” He reminded you as he pulled his hand out of your grasp, making you frown slightly.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” You said, playing with the hem of your dress. “Y/Bf/N is here too.” You whispered.

“Wait, really?” You nodded as Rafe sighed.

“Do you want to talk to him?” He asked and you sighed, shaking your head.

“No, not right now. I don't know.” You replied confused. “He had the fucking audacity to grab me and yell at me ‘cause I didn't answer his call a few minutes ago while he hasn't even replied to one of my texts.” You rambled, rolling your eyes.

“He grabbed you?” Rafe asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern and his jaw tightened.

“Okay, easy tiger. I can handle him.” You chuckled and he did the same. “He'll shit his pants.” He joked and you snorted.

“Yeah, right. Who's afraid of little old me?” You asked, rolling your eyes before turning to look at him again, catching him staring back at you. This time, you were closer than before. His lips mere inches away from yours. Your eyes flickered up and down his face.

“Y/N-” “Can I kiss you?” You blurted out. His eyes looked deeply into yours.

“You're drunk. I-We can't.” He explained. “I never finished my drink.” You said quickly. You felt like your heart was going to explode, your breaths were deep and quick.

“Sweetheart-” Before he could finish his sentence, your lips were on his. You pulled away for a split second, before he put his hands on your face pulling you back into him. Your tongues fighting for dominance inside your mouth, as one of your hands traveled down his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder and into his hair pulling strands. He groaned into the kiss as he pulled you to straddle his lap, your dress bunching up over your hips, your lacy black underwear appearing, as you messily made out with him. His hands pulled your hips to grind on him, as he groaned.

After a few minutes, you pulled away, seeing his lips glistening with your lip gloss, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed. You felt a poke on your inner thigh and you giggled, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Sorry for that.” He apologized, chuckling breathlessly. “I just feel so high school every time I look at you.” You giggled and nodded. “The feeling's mutual.”

“I can't believe that this actually happened. Holy shit.” He cursed, falling backwards on the bed, pulling you with him giggling.

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” You whispered, as your lips brushed his jawline. “With you?” You whispered, as you bit the lobe of his ear.

“Y/N…” He shuddered. “I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you or anything. I know that things are messy with Y/Bf/N, but I can't handle being a rebound or something for you to make up your mind about him. Cause I'm down bad for you.” You sat up, listening to him.

“Rafe, I can't stop thinking about you. That's mostly the reason I want to break things off with Y/Bf/N.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, his hands finding home on the curves of your hips.

“My relationship with Y/Bf/N was good at first, but I couldn't help myself but compare him to you at almost everything. Eventually my mind would just fog up and the only thing that was clear was you.” You confessed.

“Since wh-” His phone started ringing, interrupting him. He groaned as he pulled it from his pocket and answered it, after seeing it was his sister.

“She's with me. She's okay. Yeah. Bye.” He hung up quickly. “Y/Bf/N is searching for you. You should head downstairs.” He exclaimed, tightening his jaw once more.

“I don't w-” “We'll talk about this some other time, okay?” He said and you had no other choice but nod your head. You got off of him and walked towards the door, after pulling your dress back down and fixing your lipgloss on the vanity mirror.

“I'll see you around Rafey.” You greeted, as you reached for the door handle.

When you walked downstairs, you found Sarah in the kitchen with Kiara.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked immediately when she saw you approaching, wrapping her arms around you.

“Yeah, I'm alright. I just wanted to check on Rafe.” You nodded in assurance. “Hey, where's Y/Bf/N?” You asked, looking around the kitchen.

“I think he's with Topper.” Kiara replied, pointing towards the living room. You nodded, thanking her and walked there, Sarah and Kiara following not far behind.

You looked around for a few seconds, before your eyes fell on him sitting on the couch, with a blonde touron under his arm talking to Kelce while Topper was making out with a girl on the other side of the couch. Your eyes filled with tears and your jaw tightened.

Even though you were doing far worse things upstairs with Rafe, seeing this was killing you. You cleared your throat and approached them and when Y/Bf/N saw you, he removed his arm from around the touron and got up to greet you.

“Where were you? I was so worried, baby.” He said while you put on one of your fakest smiles and nodded. “I-I was in the bathroom upstairs. I felt kinda sick.” You lied, still smiling.

“Oh no. Let me order an Uber for you.” He said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I-What?” You were furious but also really confused. “I'm feeling fine now and I want to stay but would you really just get me a fucking taxi to go home?” You asked, scoffing.

“Don't.” He said in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the girls.

“Let's get the fuck out of here.” Sarah advised, sending Y/Bf/N a death glare.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you outside towards Kiara's Jeep.

“He's a fucking douchebag. I, seriously, cannot understand what you saw in him!” Kiara exclaimed, as she put the key in the ignition. Sarah smacked her arm from the passenger seat, while you played with the hem of your dress.

“Yeah, neither do I.” You agreed.

The next morning, you woke up from your phone ringing. You groaned as you picked it up before checking on the contact name.

“Hello?” Your voice was still groggy from sleep.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, baby. I was just wondering if you'd be up for brunch at the Country Club.” Y/Bf/N suggested and you groaned once again before nodding your head even though he couldn't see you.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed.

“Great, I'll pick you up in an hour. See you then.” He replied, smiling.

“Okay, bye.” You said, hanging up the call before he got the chance to say anything else. You looked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, seeing as it was 9am. You got up and went into your ensuite to Take a warm shower. When you came out, your phone pinged signifying a new notification.

loml

love you

Seen 9:12 am

You just stared at the text, before leaving Sarah a voice message about what's happening. Then began getting ready, putting on one of your favorite sundresses and a pair of sandals.

When you reached the Country Club, you noticed that he was fidgeting and squirming in his seat.

“Are you okay?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, yeah baby. What do you wanna eat?” He said, picking up the menu, as the waitress approached.

“I'll have the blueberry pancakes.” You ordered smiling.

“I'll…um…I'll have the eggs benedict.” He said, as the waitress thanked and took the menus before she walked away. His eyes captivated on her walk back to the counter, making you roll your eyes.

“I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have reacted that way.” He apologized. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, I could've handled it better. But Y/N, I feel you slipping away and I cannot lose you. I love you so so much. You're the love of my life.”

“And I know this might sound crazy but I told Lucy I'd kill myself if you ever left. That's how much I've fallen for you” He said, chuckling, recalling a conversation he had with his sister. Gazing at you starry-eyed and you wondered if anything he was saying was true.

Your mind was trying to decide what to do. If you brought up Rafe, he would storm out, creating chaos. And if you broke things off now, he would make a huge scene, embarrassing you and tarnishing your family's name and reputation. Taking everything into consideration, you remembered what your mother always told you growing up. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Last night was…eventful. I am not going to lie to you but I was hurt that you hadn't replied to me for a whole day, I was hurt that I found you with that touron. And after seeing how you've been behaving and-and treating me these last few weeks, I did not think we could recover from it. I thought we were done.” You confessed.

“I love you Y/N. You are the love of my life and I'll love for the rest of it. I'm so sorry I've ever made you feel like this. I truly am. But I am here, from now on. And I-I will change. For you.” He rambled, grabbing your hand from across the table. You smiled and nodded, letting him pull you for a kiss.

During the week, Y/Bf/N, truthfully had been a changed man. He was calling you every day to see what's up, hung out with you a lot more and even slept a few days at yours.

On Wednesday, you would be staying at Sarah's, as planned, but she had taken Wheezie on a shopping spree in the main land.

sarbear

the fucking ferry broke

might be extra late

go at mine

rafe is there

Seen 5:34pm

Your body covered with shivers, by Sarah mentioning her brother. You hadn't gotten the chance to see him after the party the previous week. You were really caught up with hanging out with Y/Bf/N, that you didn't get the chance to talk to him about what went down between you two. Even though your mind kept going back to the night of the party and the way he kissed you and touched your body.

You

hang in there

did you end up buying anything?

Seen 5:37 pm

sarbear

haul l8r

love you

sorry

Seen 5:40 pm

You

stfu

love you too

Seen 5:41 pm

After putting down your phone, you started making your bag for tonight before driving to Tannyhill. You rang the bell of the large mansion, a shirtless, tan adonis opening the door.

“Y/N? Sarah's not here.” He said, looking around the house.

“That's how you greet me? Come on, Cameron!” You smirked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, where are my manners?” He asked, sarcastically.

“Sar said I could wait for her here.” You continued. “If that's okay?”

“Of course, yeah. Come in.” He opened the door further for you to enter. He walked to the kitchen, where he had left the fridge door open.

“I came downstairs to grab a bite. Do you want anything? Something to drink?” He suggested closing the fridge door.

“Water's just fine.” You smiled, reaching for the cabinet with the cups, pulling the purple one you've been using since you were 9, when you and Sarah went to Ikea with her parents and got matching ones. You have the other one in your home, for whenever Sarah comes over.

You filled it up and brought it to your lips taking a sip, as Rafe was searching through the pantry for snacks. He came out holding a few bags of candy and a bag of chips. You laughed at the sight and he looked at you confused.

“What? I'm hungry. You know, Rose says I'm still growing.” He muttered in a serious tone, making you cackle.

“I'm playing GTA with the boys upstairs. Wanna join?” He asked, making you notice the headset around his neck. He was already heading towards the staircase, after he grabbed your bag, where you followed like a lost puppy.

You entered his room after him, that was dark with the curtains closed, red colored LED lights lighting it up. The room was cold due to the air-conditioning, so cold that when you went in you started shivering, trying to cover up yourself with your hands. Rafe dropped your bag on his bed and noticed your shivering figure, immediately turning the A/C off, opening the windows.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come on.” He said, sitting down with his back on the side of his bed, his ankles crossing. You followed him and sat down beside him, grabbing one of the bags of candy when you heard him chuckle.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“Nothing. I really wanted those Sour Patch Kids.” He replied, pointing at the bag of candy.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Take it.” You shoved it in his hand. He shook his head and put his headset back on.

“Kelce, you still there?” He asked, as he pressed some buttons on the Playstation controller and you could see a tiny person walk around on the screen.

“Can I play too?” You whispered and Rafe chuckled.

“Yo, Kelce!” He called. “Is Top joining?” He asked.

“Okay, you got about 10 minutes.” He spoke, handing you the controller, removing his headset. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Can I punch someone? Or, or can I drive?” You asked excitedly and he nodded, showing you what buttons you have to press to steal someone's car and drive it. On your first try, you crashed on a building and started running.

“Okay, let's try again. Triangle to enter. There you go.” He encouraged you, while you threw a grandma out of her car and started driving.

“I'm doing it Rafey!” You exclaimed. “I know, I see that. Come on, press R2.” He advised, smiling at you.

“I did it!” You screamed, jumping on him when you parked the car. “That was so cool!” You whispered in the crook of his neck, as you hugged him. His hands traveled around your back, holding you close to him. When you pulled away, you stared at his blue eyes.

“S-sorry.” You apologized, getting off of his lap and removing your arms from around him.

“That's alright.” He whispered, putting the headset back on and grabbing the controller from your hand.

“Hey Kelce, you there?” He called, as you started biting your lip, chipping the nail polish off of one of your fingers, feeling embarrassed.

“You okay?” He asked, still looking at the screen. “Y/N?” He whispered and you looked at him, thinking that he spoke to one of the boys.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't want to make things awkward between us. Again.” You confessed and he nodded.

“You didn't. And I meant to talk to you about last weekend.” He admitted. “I do not regret what happened between us. And I know you probably did and I don't want to hear it. It's going to make things just worse for me. I'm already-” “Rafey.” You interrupted him. He turned to look at you, pausing the game. When you looked at his flushed from the heat cheeks and ocean blue eyes, you could not resist and every ounce of logic flew out the window. You grabbed his face and smashed your lips with his, your tongue entering his mouth as your hands traveled in his hair and chest.

“Y/N-” He pulled away “Touch me, please.” You whispered, begging him as you pulled him back on your lips. His hands faltered, as he brushed them on your back, pulling you on his lap. You both messily made out with each other, as Rafe's hands grazed your breasts and your ass, before hearing Kelce yell from the headset. You pulled away with your eyes wide.

“I have turned off the mic.” He admitted and you nodded, noticing your lipgloss, now transferred on his plump lips bringing you back to the last time you did this with him.

“You have to know I did not.” You confessed, your hand scratching the back of his head.

“Did what?” He asked, confused as Kelce continued talking on the headset.

“I did not regret it. I've wanted you for such a long time. Thought about you for such a long time. And I do want this, all of this…but-” “You're with Y/Bf/N.” He finished your sentence for you and you sighed.

“I tried to finish things off with him‐” “You love him, Y/N, I shouldn't get in the middle of this.” He said, trying to pull you off of him.

“No, no. I don't. I lo-love you.” You confessed, Rafe's eyes widened. “I do. I love you. You don't have to say anything and it may seem like I'm just saying it but I do mean it. I've loved you for such a long time.”

“Do you really mean it?” He whispered and you nodded, before Rafe crashed his lips back on yours.

“I'm so glad you said that.” He started. “Because I do too. I love you, Y/N. For, fuck, 8 years?” He scoffed and you smiled. He crashed his lips on yours again, before taking hold of the back of your thighs and swiftly lifted you in his arms before he laid you down on his bed. He removed his headset, throwing it beside the controller and then hovered over you, starting to kiss you messily once more.

His kisses started traveling down your body, slowly and gently. Your neck, your breasts, your tummy, your upper thighs.

You felt like your body was on fire, as his hands traveled on your torso, over your tank top.

“Can I?” He asked and you nodded, helping him remove it.

“Someone's eager.” He teased with a smirk on his mouth. “Very.” You answered, pulling him back to kiss him and then pushed his hand lower on your body where you needed him the most.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked and you nodded. “I need words, sweetheart.” That's all it took for you to make up your mind.

“Yes, Rafey. I want you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything.” You confessed and Rafe nodded before removing your shorts and panties in one move.

“Fuck.” He whispered. “You're gorgeous.”

Feeling more exposed than ever, you felt the need to close your legs, but he held them open.

“Don't be shy with me.” You nodded and you let him do his work on you. His fingers in delicate moves, traced your thighs and your pussy lips, before pulling them apart. You moaned, feeling his hot breath on you. He smirked, before he dove in with his mouth, licking and sucking your clit and shoving a finger in your hole. His finger entering and easily touching your sweet spot.

“Rafey!” You whimpered. He continued as he stared at your Y/E/C eyes. Moans were spilling out of your mouth as he added another finger, continuing his previous motions.

“Mine.” He whispered, kissing a spot on your upper thigh. You felt your body warming up, you were panting as he made you feel so good.

“Rafe, I-” “Go on, baby.” He encouraged, as in the span of a few seconds you felt the coil inside you snapping, cumming all over his face.

“Fuck.” You whispered, his face covered in your juices. He pulled his fingers out of you and pulled them in your mouth, making you moan once more.

“Than-” “Don't. It was my pleasure.” He exclaimed, coming over and kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself.

“Do you want me to help you?” You suggested, taking a glance at his cock, now hard and begging to get out of the confined space. “You don't have to.” He quickly brushed you off, shaking his head. He got off of you and into his ensuite to grab a towel so he could clean you up.

“Thanks.” You whispered, when he returned to bed. “You can take a shower, if you want.” He suggested, giving you yet another kiss.

“Y/N? Rafe?” Sarah's voice was heard.

“Shit.” You cursed, noticing you were still naked on Rafe's bed. He grabbed your articles of clothing and handed them quickly to you, as you did your fastest to put them on. Just in time, Sarah opened the door, finding you dressed sitting on Rafe's bed and he had fallen on the floor to grab his controller and headset, whilst also trying to cover his erection.

“I am so sorry. This day has been so chaotic. Come on, Wheezie wants to show you her new clothes!” She said, entering further into the room. You got up from your place on the bed, grabbing your bag.

“See you later, Rafe.” You greeted as Sarah pulled you out of the room, he winked at you and you chuckled before closing the door.

You and Sarah were watching 'The Breakfast Club’ in her bed, when Sarah fell asleep on your shoulder, drooling on your sleep shirt. Your phone pinged, from the night table beside you and you grabbed it smiling.

rafey

you asleep?

Seen 11:39 pm

You

not yet

your sister is tho

Seen 11:41 pm

rafey

fuck

i wanted to see you

finish what we started

Seen 11:43 pm

You bit your lip and smirked at his suggestion

You

i wish

btw i am going to talk to Y/Bf/N

break up w him

i don't want to lie to either of you

i want to be with you

if you want as well

i mean

we do not have to rush things

but it's up to you

Seen 11:47 pm

The dots on your screen disappeared, coming back minutes later

rafey

i wanna be w you

i love you Y/N

Seen 11:53 pm

You

i love you

good night

Seen 11:55 pm

“Can you grab me my water bottle?” Sarah said groggily and you smiled, handing her the bottle beside you. She took a few sips, before wrapping her arms around your torso and falling back asleep.

Saturday came around and it was a special one as you had planned a movie night with your best friends in Tannyhill.

Y/Bf/N had begun being distant again. You had called him many times since your last encounter with Rafe, to meet up and talk. But he never answered.

When all of your friends arrived, everyone sat around the living room as you helped Sarah carry the snacks and drinks from the kitchen. When you came out, you saw that there was one spot left besides John B, probably kept for Sarah. You looked around and saw Rafe smirking and nodding in his direction. You followed and stood in front of him.

“We can share.” He whispered, smirking. “If you'd like.” You nodded, seeing him make space on the loveseat. Before you could sit down, he pulled most of your weight to sit on his lap.

“Rafe!” You warned, whispering, pointing with your eyes to all of your friends.

“Don't worry, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear, before he pulled a blanket over your legs. You made yourself comfortable on his lap, as his hands traveled low from your waist on your thighs, where your breath hitched.

“You're gonna have to be quiet. Can you do that princess?” He whispered in your ear and you nodded.

His fingers stroked your thighs, as you bit your lip trying to contain any sound from coming out.

“Y/N, what do you think we should watch?” Sarah asked, still looking on her phone searching for a movie, John B kissing the side of her head.

“I don't mind.” You whimpered, as Rafe brushed his fingers over your clothed private parts. “I'm okay with everything.”

His hand passed the elastic of your shorts and your panties, cupping your pussy. You shuddered and bit your lips once again, when you felt one of his fingers opening you up.

“You're soaking wet and I have barely touched you.”

“Rafe, it's already hard as it is to stifle my sighs and moans. Don't start with the dirty talk.”

The assault in you continued happening, Rafe pressing a few kisses on the side of your neck too before bringing you to an orgasm. You bit your hand, as you released.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Kiara asked, from the couch. You looked at her and nodded.

“Yeah, I just think I'm having cramps or something. I'll go grab a painkiller.” You said, raising yourself from Rafe's lap, making him adjust in his seat and running to the closest bathroom to clean up and throw some water on your face to cool down. Thankful that no one suspected anything.

It was Thursday when you were talking on the phone Rafe, about your birthday party that was on Saturday when your doorbell rang.

“Hold on, someone's at the door.” You said, walking from the kitchen to the front door, seeing that it's Kiara.

“It's Kie. I'll talk to you later.” You assured him.

“Okay, I love you.” He left a relieved sigh and you smiled, even if he couldn't see you.

“I love you too. Bye.” You hung up, before opening the door. “Hey, Kie. What's up?” You smiled kindly at her, but the look on her face made you wipe it off right away.

“I need to talk to you.” She exclaimed and you opened the door further so she could get in.

“You're scaring me, what's going on?” You asked her, as she sat down on a stool in front of the kitchen island.

“I was going to J’s and when I was going through the Cut, I saw Y/Bf/N's car parked outside of Barry's.” She explained, you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Barry? The guy who sells weed?” You scoffed.

“Yeah. Well he doesn't sell just weed, you know that right?” She explains but you feel lost. “Coke, Y/N.”

“What?” You were confused. Y/Bf/N has never done anything other than weed.

“He wouldn't-” “ I saw him walking out holding a baggie of a white substance.”

Your face dropped. You couldn't believe your ears.

“What the actual fuck?” You whispered.

“Have you talked with him? I figured he didn't tell you about that.” Kie explained.

“I haven't since last week, no. I have called him multiple times but he has completely ignored me. It's like I don't even exist. And especially after our last talk, all his empty promises about changing. Fuck.” You rambled, Kiara nodding, holding your hand. This conversation making you consider if he was high at the Country Club when he was apologizing or the party where he grabbed you.

“You told him about this Saturday?” She asked and you nodded. “Yeah, last week. I don't know if he still remembers though.”

“Try calling him again and if he doesn't answer, don't bother anymore. We all knew he was an asshole, but treating you like this? And on top of it all, he does drugs? This guy is dangerous, Y/N.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here to tell me Kie, I really appreciate it. And I know. I…I'm kind of trying to break things off. I deserve better.” You whispered the last part, making Kie smile and squeeze your upper arm before she got up and left. You immediately grabbed your phone calling Y/Bf/N three times, with no luck of him answering.

You

you better have a good explanation as to why you don't answer my calls or texts for more than a fucking week

i really need to talk to you

it's important

Sent 12:28 pm

On Saturday morning, you had started prepping the house, cleaning up even if it will get absolutely destroyed later and putting up the decorations Sarah bought from Party City. Your phone pinged, signifying a notification and you pulled it from the back pocket of your shorts.

rafey

good morning

happy birthday sweetheart

i love you

do you want me to come over and help?

Seen 10:23 am

You smiled at his texts, quickly replying before Sarah sees you slacking off. And also because she doesn't know about you and Rafe yet.

You

thank you so much rafey

i love you too

no it's okay

your sister is here to help

gtg

Seen 10:26 am

In the evening, you and Sarah had started getting ready. She had helped you with your hair and you were now doing your makeup when your phone rang.

“Oh, it's my brother. Want me to pick it up?” Sarah asked, as you applied your eyeliner.

“No, just leave it.” You answered before she handed it to you.

“Y/N, I'm not stupid. I've seen you and him all these years. How close you always have been.” She confessed. “And I know that something is going on with you two. And I am happy for you two. Truly.”

“You're not upset?” You asked cautiously, putting down the eyeliner and your phone.

“I am more upset that you didn't tell me anything. Of course I am happy for you two. My brother may be an idiot and sometimes a total asshole, but he never has been to you. I just want what's best for you. For either one of you.” You got up and hugged her tightly, as you thanked her profusely.

“I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want, Sar.” You whispered.

“At least now you don't have to sneak into his room while I'm sleeping.” She joked and you looked at her with widened eyes.

“You knew?” You asked and she nodded.

“I was fucking awake dude. And you didn't do a good job at being quiet.” She continued. “In or out of my bedroom.”

“Sar!” You warned.

“Just make sure that I don't get a niece or nephew anytime soon.” She smirked and you grabbed a pillow from your bed and threw it on her. “Shut up!” You screamed, chuckling.

After an hour of getting ready and pre-gaming with Sarah, the guests started coming. Soon the house was filled with Kooks and Pogues, even some tourons.

You in a short purple sequined dress searched around the house for the one person who you were hoping had already arrived. People stopped you to wish you and give you presents and others invited you for drinks but you refused continuing your search for Rafe.

When you entered the kitchen to grab a drink, you saw many familiar faces approaching you.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Kelce yelled, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around while you giggled.

“Happy birthday!” Topper approached, after Kelce put you down, to hug you.

“Thank you guys!” You spoke with a wide smile on your face as you looked around the kitchen.

“He's on his way! Sarah asked him to pick up more ice.” Topper pulled you closer and talked into your ear.

“W-who?” You asked, still going on with the act.

“We know, Y/N.” He smirked. “We are really happy for you two. Rafe has always had a crush on you. He was non stop talking or making everything about you. It was fucking time you two got together.”

You chuckled and nodded at Topper.

“Thank you, Top.” You whispered, making Topper wink at you. “Anytime.”

“Hello there, my birthday girl!” You felt strong arms wrapping around your waist, like they always did and his chin on your shoulder. You looked on your side and smiled.

“Hey!” You whispered and he leaned in for a kiss which you accepted. You hummed as he tried to deepen it, but you pulled away.

“I brought ice.” He pulled away to show you the bags of ice and you chuckled, pointing where to put them.

“And I brought you this.” He showed you a small black bag in his other hand. “I know you said that I shouldn't get you anything but I couldn't help myself.” You smiled and pecked his lips once more.

“You really didn't have to. But thank you.” You thanked him as he grabbed one of your hands in his.

“Wanna go somewhere quiet? So you can open it?” He asked and you nodded, pulling him with you towards the staircase. You got upstairs and unlocked your bedroom door, getting inside with your lover. When you closed the door, Rafe pinned you against it smirking.

“Don't get any ideas, Cameron!” You warned and Rafe groaned, before leaning in kissing your lips and then your jawline and neck. You pushed him backwards before things could escalate further and pulled him to sit on the bed beside you.

“It's not a big deal. I just hope you like it.” He handed the black bag to you and you smiled, opening it eagerly. You pulled out a black velvet box and an envelope. You opened the box, revealing a beautiful chain with Rafe's initial in diamonds.

“Rafe!” You whimpered, your eyes gathering tears.

“No crying on your birthday, sweetheart!” He warned, quick to wipe a tear that fell down. “You'll ruin your makeup.” He added, making you nod and try to stop the tears.

“I love it!” You said, genuinely.

You then opened the envelope and smiled at the scrawny handwriting.

Y/N,

Happy Birthday my love. I hope that it's a good one. It's the first of so many we have spent together that I get to call you ‘mine’, in some way. I hope you love the necklace. It's a reminder that I really know you, I don't own you (Yes, I did listen to Taylor Swift). I love you. Forever and Always.

-your Rafey

“Rafe! This is so cute! How can I not cry?” You wondered, hugging him tightly. He rubbed your back to try and calm you down.

“Can you help me put it on?” You asked, pulling away from him as he nodded, grabbing the box and removing the necklace carefully. You moved your hair on one side, as he put it on you and did the clasp in the back. You held the letter on your fingers, before leaning in and kissing him once more.

“It's the best gift anyone has gotten me.” Rafe smiled and got up.

“I'm glad. But now there are so many people down there waiting to celebrate with you and even though I feel honored to be up here, we should get downstairs.” He continued. “And because that dress is really distracting and I won't be able to resist if we stay any longer.” You chuckled and got off your bed, walked out of your room with him and locked the door.

Downstairs the party was going in full swing. Some people were dancing in the living room, others playing beer pong in the dining room and others were just drinking and mingling with everyone.

You were dancing with Rafe in the middle of the living room, all eyes on you two. Your fingers entwined and cheeks pink in the twinkling lights. There in your glittering prime as the lights refracted sequin stars off your silhouette.

“I'm gonna go get a drink. Want anything?” Rafe whispered in your ear and you shook your head.

“No, I'm fine. Thanks.” You replied, shaking your hips from side to side, Rafe squeezing your hip. “I'll be right back.” He pressed a kiss on your temple, before unwrapping his arms from around you and walking towards the kitchen.

On his way back, his sister stopped him, pointing at you.

“She's having the time of her life" She smiled. “Don't fucking ruin it.” Sarah warned before she noticed the one person none of you wanted there, entering the house.

“Shit's about to go down.” She nodded her head towards Y/Bf/N walking in the house with Barry and a girl under his arm. Rafe's eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

“I'll take care of it.” Rafe exclaimed. “Just get Y/N. Keep her away.” Sarah nodded, already walking in your direction.

“Sar!” You yelled over the music, the drinks making you a little tipsy.

“Hey, Y/N/N. Are you having fun?” Sarah asked, smiling at you.

“So much!” You started. “Where's Rafey? Have you seen him?” You asked excitedly, searching around for him. Sarah pulled you closer and hugged you tightly in her chest, trying to make you avoid any sighting of Y/Bf/N.

“I love you so much!” Sarah exclaimed and you smiled wider, looking up at her. “I love you too, Sarbear. You okay?” You asked, worry filling you.

“Yeah, just fi-” “There's a fight going on outside!” A touron yelled, grabbing everyone's attention, including yours.

“What?” You pulled away from Sarah, shocked.

“It's probably drunk tourons fighting. It's no biggie.” Sarah shrugged and you examined her face carefully.

“What? Oh” You realized. “It's Rafe, isn't it?”

“Y/N/N-” “Don't fucking lie to me, Sar.” You warned and she nodded slowly, before you took off running outside on your porch, as well as you could with your high heels. You pushed people to pass and find him. You needed to find him. You caught a glimpse of the back of his head, before you pushed some others ending up locking eyes with Y/Bf/N.

“There she fucking is!” He yelled, making everyone that had surrounded the two guys, look at you. Rafe turned around and came close to you.

“Go inside, sweetheart.” He advised and you shook your head when his hands touched your shoulders. Sarah came up running behind you, pulling you away.

“No, I'm not going anywhere. This is stupid.” You admitted, stepping up in front of Y/Bf/N. Rafe was close behind you, in case something happened.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at him in disgust.

“Come on, baby. It's your birthday, I couldn't miss it.”

His eyes were bloodshot, white powder still on the bottom of his nose. You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Like you ever cared.” You started. “You came here to what? Win me back? Tell me that you'll change?”

“Y/N, baby, I love you so much. I'm sorry.”

“You don't get to come here and tell me you feel bad. You have said that I'm the love of your life about a fucking million times and you didn't mean it once! You only wanted to show me off in public, whilst all you did was slide into inboxes and slip through bars. You have fucking hurt me time and time again. And like the fool I am, I fucking believed you.” You rambled, everyone looking at you as Rafe yelled at them to leave.

“Y/N, you don't mean any of that. You love me too. Come on now. Fucking behave.” He exclaimed, approaching you.

“I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning of yours.” You scoffed.

“Was any of it true? Did none of our time together mean anything to you? Are you that heartless? Or did you really think I'm that stupid and I'd let you treat me like shit so you could get your dick wet?” You asked, pushing him.

“Stop it.” He whispered, his jaw clenching.

“Here, everyone! The smallest man who ever lived!” You yelled, making a show for everyone.

“Y/N, I said stop it! Fucking bitch.” He scoffed.

“And you know what? You never measured up in any measurе of a man.” You chuckled, as people around you hollered and laughed.

Y/Bf/N furrowed his eyebrows in anger, launching towards you. Right before your eyes, he was suddenly on the ground, with Rafe on top of him pushing him on the grass.

“Still pussy-whipped Cameron? She's too high up her ass to even notice you.” Y/Bf/N said, while struggling to get up with Rafe's weight holding him down. Rafe turned him around and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“I'll give you about 5 seconds to get the fuck away from here. You'll never bother Y/N again. And if I see you around, I won't hesitate to fucking rip you apart.” He spat on his face, before getting off of him. Y/Bf/N got up and raised his middle finger towards you, before walking away.

“Good riddance asshole!” You yelled.

Rafe sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulder pulling you into a hug.

“Go back inside folks! The party's back on!” Sarah shouted, making everyone run inside the house.

“You okay?” Rafe whispered in your ear, after ensuring no one could bother you two. You nodded.

“Thanks to you.” You confessed. “If you hadn't been here…I don't even want to think about what he could have done.” Your body shook and Rafe hugged you tighter.

“You're okay.” He kissed the temple of your head. “I'm right here. Always will be.”

You turned your head, grabbing his head and pulling him closer to you, attaching your lips to his.

“Now, let's go celebrate me!” You smiled, walking towards your house, making Rafe chuckle.

Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer

A/N: i have been working on this since ttpd came out. i tried my best to add as many taylor references and if you're not a fan of her music, i'm sorry lol. hope you liked this, it's finally yours!!! also huge thank you to @rafeandonlyrafe for proofreading and helping me with her support and love!!!!!

[bg3galore]

Sleeping headcanons

Wyll

-Will hum you a soft tune and rub shapes into your back, while you're settling down for the night.

-Would definitely tell you stories of his life growing up and about his dreams for the future, while you listen closely to his breathing; until you fall asleep.

-Always kisses your forehead before falling asleep.

-Chuckles softly to himself every time you fall asleep before him and will take it as an opportunity to watch your sweet face sleeping; wondering if you're dreaming and what about.

Karlach

-Is a loud snorer and a very deep sleeper

-The perfect cuddler, especially for a harsh winter night; that infernal engine will actually be put to a good cause- comforting the two of you from the prickle of ice, snow and cold alike.

-During the summer, she tends to smother you a bit so you have to squirm your way out of her hold a few times if you're to get any rest at all

-Gets particularly soft and vulnerable when you tuck her hair behind her ears and tell her every little thing you love about her; it makes her feel like her engine is going to combust on site- but in the best way possible.

Shadowheart

-Plays with your hair and enjoys it when you do too

-She always prays right before and right after sleeping and always mentions you in her prayers; she wants you to be safe and healthy forever and always.

-On rare nights that she does have a nightmare (not doubt featuring wolves) she'll reluctantly wake you up and want you to spoon her and comfort her tenderly with words or reassurance; she knows it's silly that they are just wild dogs with no table manners but they terrify her to her core.

-She takes a couple of hours to fall asleep, so in the meantime she likes to read, meditate and admire every inch of you while you sleep or chill in your shared bedroll; it reminds her how lucky and blessed she is everyday.

Gale

-Snores mildly on nights his orb is particularly vexing but will still insist on you cuddling up together; he will apologise for all the trouble he knows he causes although he knows he can't control his situation or habits.

-You have a nightly ritual where you'll lay adjacent to each other and get lost in each others eyes, which tends to lead Gale to slowly getting flustered and eventually crumbling and being very keen for some sleep- he can't control his love or actions in relation to you very well so having you looking at him like that really switches something in him.

-If you ever have trouble falling or staying asleep he'll cast a sleep spell on you to make sure you will get your well deserved rest, and watch over you for a little while just in case something should happen or change.

-On nights where he struggles to sleep and you have long been taken ahold by sleep, he'll wonder off to a quiet place on the other side of camp and quietly play with his magic.

Lae'zel

-She's the type to kick and move around a lot in her sleep, maybe even growl- although she has no memory or idea about it; she would be too proud to admit it willingly anyways.

-Very light sleeper, from as early as she can remember she never wants to give any potential enemies the upper hand so she applies this too to her sleep- she will be the one with a blade to their throat.

-Initially she's not a huge fan of the cuddling idea but once you've been together for a while she starts warming up to the idea of it, and will try it once everyone is asleep; she's full of a soft joy and ever so slightly god forbid drops her guard.

-Falls asleep very easily despite her guard being up so much, she has a lot of pent up rage, anxiety and just general exhaustion so this wears a toll on her body taking her completely out before you even realize it.

Astarion

-Is prone to frequent nightmares/reliving his past with the Szarr household, which causes him to jolt awake and sometimes cry or scream.

-Otherwise he's a quiet sleeper and a wonderful cuddler, he always wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in.

-His favorite sleeping position is to have his head directly on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat, he finds it incredibly comforting and reassures him that he's not alone and won't ever have to be again- not at night, not in the day and certainly not against his demons.

-Takes a minimum of 4 hours to fall asleep especially if he's left alone with his thoughts; they eat at him with anxiety and doubt- so he tends to get to bed much earlier than everyone else in camp.

Halsin

-Only tends to snore if he's been in wild shape for too long

-Wonderful big spoon, also loves to hold you against his chest while you lay by the camp fire and watch the stars and reminisce on stories long past.

-Like Astarion he relives/has nightmares about some of his traumatic experiences from his youth but he's much more discreet about it and will do his best not to wake you up; and instead will go for a brief walk to clear his head and take in the scent of nature and all its bounties.

-Adores it when you nuzzle your face into his neck and will absolutely make you lay completely all over him so he can be closer to you; unless it embarrasses you of course.

[indomitus-ferox]

Neither one of them should have still been drawing breath.

At this rate, it was hard to tell who was the more battered and wounded, out of the two of them. They were both in bad shape, being held together by Biofoam, their damaged armour, and sheer force of will. Perhaps luck was on their side, if one could call it that. Perhaps the universe had a sick sense of humour. Or, perhaps fate was not done with them yet.

Either way, this was an opportunity.

Spartan-IIIs were bred for vengeance. Retribution was their calling, the reason why they had been forged into weapons of war. Their predecessors were humanity’s defenders. They were humanity’s avengers.

( Well, all of them save for herself. But at that point in time, it didn’t matter. She had long ago adopted their very reason for being. )

Artemis backed up a pace, giving the Commander room to stand up. Logically, she knew they couldn’t linger there any longer. That if they stayed to rest, they probably wouldn’t be able to get back up again. It was better to get moving, get somewhere safer, get the hell off Reach.

Her damaged grey helmet snapped quickly in Carter’s direction the moment he began speaking. The fact that he did not view himself as being very capable of command was not surprising. Neither one of them was operating at full strength. And rank held little importance when there was only the two of them left. There was no more fireteam; they were a duo, now.

“A smash and grab?” she echoed, seeking clarification. “What exactly do you mean by that? See if we can steal whatever human transport is left down here, or...?” The second option being: hijack a Covenant vessel. Which, to her, did not sound like a smart move. A dropship, maybe, but anything larger than that would have been out of their realm of capability.

         A pulse of frustration bled through the pain his mind and body both remained saddled with. Telling her commander to be silent - it was gross insubordination at best. But this wasn't the time to stand on rank and ceremony, and as that thought crossed his ailing mind, his irritation subsided. They were probably the only HUMAN life remaining on Reach. Not to mention he'd just crashed head-on into a Scarab and miraculously lived, notably without his helmet; he had to be concussed to some degree.

         He could see it in the sky, that mix of noxious colors, occasional dropships and phantoms soaring overhead. It was official. Reach was lost, and as the words left Six's mouth - Emile's dead - Carter felt for the first time in many, many years of service, that he had failed a mission. That he could have done more. That he had somehow let them down. Hopelessness settled itself in the back of his mind, threatening to overturn his discipline and allow panic in. He balled his right hand into a fist, slamming it with all his strength against the metal beneath him. The strike wasn't hard. He was weaker than he'd been since the augmentations.

         It wasn't hard to bury that feeling. Especially with Six's assurance that he wasn't dead. She was right. As long as he was still breathing, he owed it to Emile, to HIS TEAM to show the Covenant what a poor choice they'd made in opponents.

         As the last of the Biofoam seeped into his wounds, he felt the familiar cool sensation, the wounds sealing, the flow of blood halting. It started with a new rush of pain, excruciating, debilitating; it faded as quickly as it began, the pain lingering, but dulled. Manageable. It wasn't a complete seal; it was a shoddy patch job that would only last hours, and that was if he was supremely lucky. Getting out of here would be difficult. Impossibly so.

         Wouldn't be a Noble mission if it were easy, words he spoke only too recently ringing in the back of his mind.

         The surge of pain mixed with his lungs working properly again brought him fully back to his senses. That inviting darkness, calling him home, calling him to see his comrades again, was ebbing away. He pushed it back. Rejected it. He wouldn't go out that easy. Carter pushed himself up, raising an arm to rip the last piece of metal from his chest; it hadn't hit anything vital, and wasn't as deep as he thought. His vision cleared, the fog in his mind lifted, like a curtain lifting on a play. Tactics began to rush through his mind, playing battle strategies and simulations in his mind like watching a slideshow. They had so few escapes now. Almost every space-worthy ship was already off of Reach. They could go back to that installation, see if there were any Longsword fighter craft left...

         ...or, a plan just crazy enough that Kat would've smacked him for even suggesting it: hijack a ship from the Covenant, and try to follow the Autumn. He'd run simulations, though it'd been years; he was at least semi-confident he could pilot one, if needed. The real dilemma was how they were going to accomplish such a feat while being attacked from all sides, in the shape they were both in. With a deadened, tight-lipped frown, the thought occurred to him that their odds were so staggeringly low, even Noble Team at full strength would be hard-pressed to pull this one off. They'd make it work, though.

         They had to.

         "Six. I'm not claiming I've ever been infallible, but right now, my calls aren't reliable. It might be best to forget chain of command, for the moment. If I make a bad call, you check me. Getting off of Reach is the only priority, but as it happens, I have an idea as to how we can do that. You up for a smash and grab?"

[mawlaeina]

отчаянный | Desperate

(adj.) having a great need or desire for something.

🍊 content: Obsessed! Childe x fem! reader, implied red string of fate (sort of)

✦ content w: religious themes (if you squint), praise and worship (if you squint?), implied violence and murder by Childe, general angst

Childe had to fight.

Ajax was not older than 14 years old when he suddenly fell into the abyss on a regular snowy day in Snezhnaya. He closed his eyes for one moment, and the next thing he knew he was falling down towards dark colored waters of what looked like a dimly lit cave.

In seconds, Ajax felt himself crashing down harshly against the surface of the water before he began to slowly sink. He shivered, the water constantly staying icy and cold even when he was below the surface, and there was also an uncanny atmosphere that he felt as he continued to sink.

In a panic, Ajax swam up—the feeling of such a heavy weight on his entire body almost choked him off of oxygen as he managed to break to the surface of the water.

He gasps for air as he steadies himself before be swims to some nearby land. He clings to the sandy ground once he was out of the water, choking and gasping as the density grew greater on his body—as if it was going to crush his lungs and ribs at any given moment.

But he manages to grow accustomed to it a bit as he composes himself once more. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he asks himself what was happening.

He looked around for a moment and realized that the entire place was packed with wolves with shadow-like features that were focused on him upon his arrival.

The creatures were simply staring at Ajax with some kind of dark madness and hunger—albeit slow, some were already approaching him on the little island that he was on.

He had nothing to use to defend himself with—no armor, no shield, no weapons. When one of the wolves finally dashed forward with a jaw slightly hanging and ready to bite, all Ajax could think of was to run.

And he did run away—his legs moving light and fast as he tried to avoid all the other wolves that were coming in front of him. He was running even though his legs were tired, even when his lungs started to feel like they were bursting again.

For a moment, he was happy as he managed to lose sight of the wolves.

That was until he tripped.

He tripped over his own feet and began to roll down painfully against the rough and rigid ground. Once he finally landed at the bottom, his body had taken multiple fractures on the torso, and bleeding wounds on his face and arms.

Ajax groaned in pain, reaching and placing his hands on his hair before weakly clenching his hand on it. Ajax could hear the wolves coming as they howl with distorted voices from the direction he was just running away from.

He began to panic again, his breathing frantic and scattered all over the place. He closed his eyes for a moment as the darkness began to settle in his vision. For a moment he saw glimpses of mental images of his family—his mother, father, older and younger siblings.

Was this it? Was this his demise? He felt like crying, he didn’t want to die, not now, not when he was this young.

Why? Why? Why?

He questions desperately to the gods and celestia.

Fight.

His eyes opened, widening in shock as he wore a stunned expression on his face. He heard someone—the voice clear as day, with words spoken firmly as the frozen ice of Snezhnayan fjords, yet it was somehow spoken with the same desperation that he felt.

Fight, please. I’m begging you.

The voice’s tone broke momentarily, and Ajax could somehow picture someone in front of him as he lay on the ground—the person pleading, their warm and ticklish tears fell from their eyes and onto Ajax’s cheeks. Though their face was blurry and could be vaguely seen, he sensed some familiarity coming from them—even though he remembers no one with such a voice.

I don’t want you to die.

In an instant, Ajax rolls to the side as he avoids a claw strike from a wolf that had already came up to him. His back bumps into a nearby stone wall, but he manages to take a sharp rock before standing up with haste.

His hands are tensed, clenching the sharp stone and wielding it like a kitchen knife. Despite the state of his body, he felt the urge, the need to move and survive against the monster.

Ajax dashes forward as the shadow-like wolf lunges towards him. Before the ruined animal could bite his head off, he slides under the wolf and stabs its hide before slicing through its underbelly using the stone. Once the wolf’s body passes over him, it collapses onto the ground with a pool of blood quickly forming under its lower half.

For a moment, there was some sort of adrenaline that came over Ajax—one that made him feel stronger, more confident to survive, and his fresh kill ignited a newly sense of pride of winning.

He liked how it felt for some reason.

It wasn’t until the adrenaline wore off rather quickly. He coughed out some blood as he drops the sharp bloody stone to the ground, just before he fell to his knees—eventually, his body collapses onto the ground just like the wolf before passing out.

—

Childe had to survive.

When Ajax woke up, he found himself laying on the ground—his body covered in bandages. He groaned as the pain began to strike all over his body. He looked around for a moment and saw numerous wolves laying dead and bloodied everywhere.

He doesn’t remember doing any of this, and it somehow bothered him.

The next thing he knew, he was took in by a stranger who introduced herself as Skirk. He was taught multiple skills on how to survive in this place, which was called the Abyss. Skirk teaches Ajax how to survive and pass through the regions of the Abyss unharmed, and how to wield his hydro vision in the abyss—even though he wasn’t aware that he received a vision at all in the first place.

After a month of rigorous and intense training, Skirk teaches Ajax to wield Foul Legacy. For the first few tries, transforming and using Foul Legacy for even just a few seconds put such a heavy strain on his body, and he eventually ended up in critical condition every time.

When he passes out, he dreamt or had short visions. He saw someone making tea on a kitchen counter, their faces were blurry and could be vaguely seen but he could feel some sort of warmth emanating from them. Ajax somehow knew it was the same person who talked some sense into him on the first day that he fell into the Abyss.

He holds his hand out, reaching it gently towards the person.

He wakes up, his breathing heavy as he sweats profusely. Skirk was confused as to why Ajax woke up in such a way, yet she dismisses it as an insignificant nightmare that the young child probably had.

However, in Ajax’s case, he wanted more of that warmth that he felt just now. How long has it been since he’d touch something warm after falling into the cold Abyss? He doesn’t recall, he doesn’t remember—so, naturally, as a young adolescent, he wanted more of it, he craved it.

From then on, Ajax began to train harder, harsher—pushing his body to his limits everyday. He got stronger, and that’s what he told himself what his training was for—to get stronger, to be stronger.

To conquer the world.

A merely shallow form of self-manipulation to deny a more selfish reason he had in mind.

In truth, he wanted to see and feel more of that person, and he did—so long as he passed out. He passes out more frequently now as he continuously extends his limits—pushing himself until his body was in pain from just moving a hand.

Everytime he would pass out, he would constantly try to reach for them when they weren’t looking, he would try to see their face clearer, hear their voice clearer as they talked to him for even just a second. Eventually, he realizes they were a year younger or older than him—if not, they were perhaps the same age as he was.

But as another month passed, he began to pass out less, and when he did pass out, if wouldn’t be long enough to see that person again. While it confirmed that he did get stronger, he was irritated by the absence of such a warm presence. The only light that he had in the Abyss, and now it felt like he was losing it.

Stronger, I need to get stronger.

Ajax thought to himself angrily as he began to train even without Skirk. He continued to push his limits—training in the dark and heavy waters until his lungs almost gave out, training against stronger enemies using his Foul Legacy form, training against every other weapon that he could find in the Abyss. His bloodlust began to grow by the day as he relentlessly hunted the monsters that resided in the Abyss.

Yet for some reason, he no longer saw that person when he passed out. Did he recover too quickly? Were they going to leave him behind now? They wouldn’t right? Right?

He could feel himself losing his sanity, his thoughts full of silent pleas for that person to appear at least once every other day or so.

No, no, no, please. Don’t leave me here, come back.

COME BACK!

—

Childe needed to breathe.

When Ajax came back to Teyvat, he returned to his family cabin in Snezhnaya—to which he was welcomed back warmly and gladly with thankful sobs from his family members. Much to his surprise, he had been only missing for 3 days in Teyvat despite having trained for 3 months in the Abyss.

While Ajax missed his family so much, his thoughts were still plagued with the unknown warmth that he felt in the Abyss. Yes, he enjoyed the warm hugs and such affectionate love coming from his family, he enjoyed the warm sensation of his hands when faced to the fire of the cabin fireplace—but those, for some odd reason, could not compare to the comfort that he felt and witnessed first hand in the Abyss.

They were simply not enough.

It was a week after his return that Ajax looked up to the sky. The last shimmering gloss on his eyes reflected the clear blue skies of Snezhnaya that day, and he wondered if that was just the Abyss playing tricks on his head.

He sighed as he plopped down on the snowy ground. The Snezhnayan cold no longer affected him—not when the Abyss conditioned him with colder temperatures.

His hands twitch for a moment, just like it had been for the last week. He needed to move, to fight. He thought he could control himself, that he could return to just being his mother and father’s son.

But he couldn’t, and on that day, he ended up massacring all the ruin guards he could find in his region using his Foul Legacy form.

Ajax, stop, your body can’t handle any more stress.

His eyes widened after hearing a worried voice just as he was about to move to the next region—a small wave of warmth passes by him, the sensation was weak but familiar. He pauses for a moment, waiting for them to speak again—but there was only silence.

Where are you?

He looked around the snowy terrain, still in his Foul Legacy form. It took him a few seconds of silence before his body began to feel heavy—coughing up blood and collapsing onto the snow as he turns back into his normal self.

Where are you?

He repeats inside his head with desperation. He stood up and began to walk around, his other leg limping as he does so. His mouth was slightly agape, taking in shallow breaths of the thin air as blood trickled down his mouth.

Please, please. Answer me, where are you?

When he finally turned his head, he saw you.

Clear as day, warm as the sun.

His breath hitched as he felt your hand on his cheeks, your warmth constantly emanating and burning through his cold skin. He felt like crying right then and there, but he wondered if you were real—if this was real. He raised his hand to touch yours, and it did.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, your voice full of worry—yet its so soothing to his ears. It’s that same voice that Ajax could never mistake for someone else. Ajax just stares at you for a minute, too stunned to speak as he takes in your face. “Hey, you’re badly injured, we should take you home.” You suggest.

Ajax seemed to realize something for a moment. While he knew that the person he’s seen and heard in the Abyss was you, you were acting like a stranger to him—it confused him.

“You’re injured.” Ajax pointed out abruptly as he gently takes your hand off his cheeks and spins you around lightly, which catches you off guard for a second. “Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice low and angry as he runs a finger down your back—your spine crawls at the painful sensation.

“I got hit by a ruin guard earlier and passed out by that tree earlier.” You explained rather awkwardly. “But I’m fine now, so you there’s nothing to worry about. We should get you home since you’re in an even worse condition.” You say as you turned around to face him. “Can you tell me where you live? I’ll help you get there.”

Ajax tells you where he lives, and it surprises both of you that you two were neighbors. What a coincidence, how come you never saw in each other?

It was already midnight when Ajax returned to his family cabin, with you supporting him from the side. His mother was relieved to see his son back, but her concerned grew when she saw him covered in dirt and blood. She thanked you for accompanying him during his journey home.

You told them that you were going to leave, and Ajax couldn’t help but feel devastated by the idea—so he speaks to his mother, saying how you were also injured.

Naturally, as a loving and concerned adult that she was, Ajax’s mother told you that she could at least treat your injuries before you leave, and that you could stay the night in their cabin and return home the next morning.

The look of reluctance painted on your face somehow ticked something inside Ajax’s mind. He never questioned about what happened in the Abyss—how he heard your voice when he was on the brink of death, when he was barely going to survive. He simply concluded that it just happened, that your fates were intertwined so strongly that your voice reached him even when the two of you were worlds apart.

Don’t you feel the same? Why do you want to leave?

He wanted to be angry, but he can’t find it in himself to be angry at you—not when he thinks you’ve done so much for him, not when you saved him from the brink of death in the Abyss. You were his salvation, his one and only savior in this world—not even a single person from celestia came to put him back into his senses at the time, and for that he no longer believes in them.

He believes in you.

When you finally agreed to his mother’s offer, he felt glad—an understatement to the joyful emotion that he had swirling in his chest. He lets you sleep inside his room after being treated, and when you fell asleep, he took it upon himself to watch you.

He was kneeling on the ground, arms and head resting on the side of the bed. He continues to watch you in silence for a moment before he briefly caresses your cheek.

My god.

He lifts himself up a bit, enough that he hovered over your sleeping face. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead, feeling the comforting warmth that you had stinging his cold lips.

My universe.

—

Childe suffocated.

When he finally got recruited into the fatui, he was given a nickname, “Childe”.

Acknowledged by the Tsaritsa and the organization for having great strength at such a young age, he was given a chance to be promoted—to become a harbinger, but he had to sacrifice something or someone.

He was made to choose.

Blinded by the loyalty that he swore, he chose to sacrifice someone who would get in the way of the fatui ambition that he had. You.

With fates intertwined as strong as celestia, he was told by the Fatui that you would hinder his progress, his strength.

You were a distraction.

While Childe did return to be a fairly normal person ever since he had you by his side, the warmth that he felt from you slowly faded into something more common. Your warm hugs no longer felt special over time—it was as if you turned into another fireplace for him to stare at.

Snezhnaya was not as cold as the Abyss, and so he disregarded the need for something as warm as you.

So there he stood, in front of you with a knife held dangerously close to your neck. His hands trembled, and he seemingly fought every cell of his body from hesitating.

I just have to kill her.

He thought to himself, his inner voice lacking any sense of determination to do so.

You, yourself, was not surprised that he had come to kill you.

You knew this day would come, and you just hoped it wouldn’t happen to his family. While you were clearly against him joining the Fatui, you said nothing—a decision that you’ve come to regret every day.

As his hands trembled, you smiled sadly—closing your eyes as you held his hands. For a moment, his eyes widened, and everything turned silent as the sound of blood splattered on the ground.

Childe did not come home to his family that day like he said he would.

—

Childe has forgotten how to breathe.

“What do you mean you don’t know about big sister?” Teucer pouted, and Childe simply laughed confusedly at the young ginger.

“Who are you talking about, Teucer?” Childe asks his younger brother without a single shine of sunlight reflecting his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about!”

“Big sister Tonia?” Childe raises a brow, but Teucer shakes his head with a frown—he was getting upset with his big brother now.

“The one you always brought to go ice fishing with us.” Childe doesn’t know what his younger brother was talking about.

“I don’t recall bringing anyone other than you when we go ice fishing by the lake, Teucer.” Childe spoke honestly and knelt down to Teucer’s level. “Buddy, are you sure you aren’t tired?” Childe asks worriedly.

Teucer shakes his head, still frowning.

Everything was so odd for Childe ever since he woke up this morning. Everyone in his family cabin had asked him about someone he doesn’t know about—his family claims that the two of them were close, very close, and they wondered why Childe no longer remembers them.

Who on earth were they talking about?

Childe asks himself as he holds Teucer’s hand as they walk to the frozen lake nearby. He wonders who that person was, and how he forgot about them if they were so close.

Once they arrived to the frozen lake, Childe couldn’t help but stare at the scenery for a moment. It was as if he was stunned for a moment from the aching sensation that he deeply felt in his chest.

It was the same lake that he’d visited in his entire life, yet for some reason…

Why is it so cold?

✦ this is kind of bad.. idk how to feel about this

✦ I didn’t want to write this because I hate angst + my sweet boy, but if I suffer I’m dragging everyone else with me

✦ would rather praise and worship him instead ngl

✦ there’s gonna be an extended version of this if I don’t get lazy soon so look out for that

✦ Yes, there’s ivantill reference there

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #10

(#) = Notes at end of post

TW: mentions of human experimentation and blood

✦

The Sapphire Stone Sits Highest on the Throne

The GIW have done the unthinkable. They've captured Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms and ruler of all who reside within it. The government organization tortured and experimented on Danny so much and for so long that Danny was forced to recede into his core. While a ghost's core is relatively strong by itself --only another ghost of similar strength could shatter it-- it's also extremely vulnerable to misuse if left in the wrong hands.

The GIW use the King's core to ravage Amity Park --uncaring if human citizens got in their way-- as well as the Ghost Zone itself. The Ancients combine their efforts to search for the lost, little king, desperately trying to find Danny's core and take it back from the blood and ectoplasm stained hands of the agents. As a result of their dogged search, the Ancients bring worldwide destruction down upon the Earth in their hunt for every single white suit agent remaining, scurrying from one hiding place to another like rats in the walls of a dilapidated house.

One by one, almost every agent was hunted down and bound in unbreakable chains of ice, awaiting their trials for the atrocities they committed against the Infinite Realms and its King. The only one left is the leader of the organization itself, the one who holds Danny's core. The leader, however, is extremely slippery and has managed to evade capture for months now, going so far as to throw their own men to the wolves if it meant an easy escape with the jewel-blue heart of a scared, grieving, and injured child.

At this point though, the Ancients have caused so much destruction and natural disasters, that the Justice League has no choice but to step in. At first, the JL actively try to fight the Ancients, not fully understanding the situation but having little luck in actually hitting any of them regardless. It isn't until John Constantine runs onto the battlefield like a bat out of hell and skids to a stop right smack dab in the middle of the fight that things change. He's out of breath, his hair is in disarray, he smells heavily of smoke and alcohol, and that's definitely a still fresh coffee stain on his weather beaten trenchcoat along with red blood painting his knuckles.

Normally, one small human wouldn't be able to stop the wrath of the Ancients when they've set their sights on something. This instance, however, was very different. As Constantine raised his hands up towards the rampaging Ancients about to unleash their fury on the JL, one thing managed to capture every single one of their attention.

That being the weakly glowing, sapphire-like core held in one of Constantine's outstretched hands(1 & 2) and the faint, echoing cries of a child begging the Ancients to put an end to the carnage they've unleashed upon the world.

✦

Notes:

(1) Constantine gives little explanation on how he got his hands on Danny's core. Little do the JL know, it was just pure, dumb luck. He ran into the leader of the GIW right as the bastard was leaving a coffee shop. Coffee got spilled all over Constantine and, being slightly drunk off his ass, he decides to deck the person in the pretentious white suit and knocks him out in one shot. Constantine's about to walk away when he hears a child crying. He finds Danny's core in one of the downed guy's pockets and has a panic attack when he immediately realizes what it is. Danny explains what's going on and Constantine books it towards where he can sense a large amount of necrotic energy gathering. The rest is history.

(2) ALSO, sapphire is a pretty significant gem. According to the internet, the sapphire symbolizes wisdom, royalty, prophecy and divine favour. It's a symbol of power and strength, but also of kindness and wise judgement. Which just fits Danny PERFECTLY in this prompt, imo.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have fallen deep down the mortal kombat rabbit hole and I have no intention of climbing out. Could you possibly write a smoke x reader where she can sense that Bi-Han will betray them before the mission the brothers go on and she and smoke get in a big fight about it. When they reunite she isn't even angry about the fight at seeing how heartbroken he is? Just lots of fluff at the end. You're amazing!

Needless to say you never trust Bi-Han, you couldn’t explain why but you just couldn’t bring yourself to trust the guy. The ice cold man always looked as though he was on the verge of betraying his own kin if it meant ascending himself and the Lin Kuei to a higher position of power. Bi-Han was always a condescending fucker in your eyes, who took great pleasure in reminding Tomas that his blood wasn’t ever Lin Kuei on a consistent basis; A statement of which you found as stupid as it was harmful.

Ounce upon a time Tomas looked up to Bi-Han but upon realising that the cryomancer wanted nothing to do with him, never less ever return the gesture, Tomas would then look for what he wanted from Bi-Han in Kuai Liang instead. Now Kuai Liang on the other hand was nothing like his brother, he was warm in not only abilities but in personality also. The best way you could go about describing Kuai Liang was that he was akin to that of a cozy fireplace, one where you could comfortably cuddled up with a loved one when cold and in need of respite.

You were happy that Tomas had finally came to his senses and -in your opinion- began looking up to the better brother, seeing as how Kuai Liang didn’t hesitate in treating Tomas as though he was his own flesh and blood, even going so far as to openly remind him that despite not actually being blood related; he was still his brother through and through. You could easily tell that was what Tomas had always wanted to hear come from Bi-Han’s mouth just from the way his eyes glossed over, as though he were on the verge of crying and the way he tried to fight back a wide smile, for Kuai Liang had single-handedly put to rest every insecurity that had burdened him since being taken into the Lin Kuei.

And you couldn’t be happier for him and be eternally grateful for Kuai Liang for doing what Bi-Han actively chose not to out of pride and self righteousness.

So when Tomas had informed you that him and his brothers were setting off to stop Shang Tsung, you felt a sense of unease overcome you, an itch you couldn’t scratch. They may leave as brothers but you had a gut feeling that only two would come back, broken by inevitable betrayal. Naturally you wanted to warn both Tomas and Kuai Liang about your assumption without Bi-Han nearby to eavesdrop, firmly believing the cryomancer to have all the plausible motivators for deception; After all he thinks that the Lin Kuei has become a ghost of it’s former self, a subservient laughing stock and wanted nothing more then to restore it’s rightful purpose, even if that meant betraying all he had been raised to uphold.

Without sparing a single second, you rushed to Tomas as to warn him, only for him to believe that you were instead spreading lies.

‘You think Bi-Han is going to betray myself and Kuai Liang?!’ Tomas asked in disbelief. ‘I can’t exactly put me trust in your assumptions when he has never shown signs of ever betraying us, betraying tradition.’ Apparently Tomas’ loyalty to his brothers knew no bounds, even if one of them in particular had treated him like shit throughout his entire life. It truly baffled you as to why he bothered defending a man who’d feed him to the wolves at any given moment. ‘Then signs all point towards him throwing away the values, upon which the Lin Kuei were founded upon by your father.’ You deliberately pointed out to him.

‘So of course i would firmly put trust into my own assumptions because they’ve never once proven me wrong, Tomas. Bi-Han can and will betray you and Kuai Liang.’ You finished but upon seeing his unchanging stance, you knew that your rebuttal was getting nowhere through to Tomas. It hurt not having him believe you, not even a little bit, but you had to keep trying and make him see reason, so you continued. ‘Bi-Han is growing ambitious and is more than willing to forsake tradition for a shot at gaining power, just so that the Lin Kuei may never be under anyone’s foot ever again. Don’t you see Tomas?’ You stepped towards him, watching his every expression morph into one of anger, hurt and denial. He knew you were right but was just too scared to admit that such a thing could be possible.

‘Under Bi-Han’s rule the Lin Kuei will be seen as a threat. He’ll become a tyrant of his own making.’ You were just about to place your hands upon his arms when Tomas took a step back, retching himself from your grasp, causing the hurt to strike itself even further into your heart.

‘You know nothing about my brother.’ Tomas snapped, something he very rarely did. ‘So don’t go pretending that you know him better then I do, like you know his character and then go and boldly accuse him of high treason just because you had a hunch. I’d much rather prefer you admit that you disliked Bi-Han and left it at that.’ Tomas then looked at you with utter disgust before showing you his back. ‘But I guess that too much of a tall ask. I’m going on that mission, and when I get back I don’t want you waiting for me, I want you gone.’ He said before then making his exit out the room, leaving you no opportunity to speak as you then collapsed onto the floor, placing your hand where your heart lied within you; desperate to stop it from shattering as you silently wept.

‘I’m sorry Tomas but I am not leaving until til I know you’re okay.’ You whispered before leaving the room yourself and headed off to bed to sleep the away the disaster that had been today…

‘You we’re right. Bi-Han betrayed us. Kuai Liang confined in me that he even admitted to willingly letting our father die.’ Tomas was happy that you didn’t actually leave, he knew you wouldn’t but some part of him had thought that you would’ve tempted the idea, given how horrid he had treated you. He wouldn’t even blame you if he had came back to a cold and empty home, he truly didn’t deserve you, not even a little bit. If he could go back and smack some sense into himself and tell him to put more faith in you and your words he would, but he guessed that was the whole point to life. ‘I’m sorry.’ Tomas said as he looked towards you with his sad puppy eyes. ‘I should’ve listened to you but instead i dismissed you and said some things that you should never say to a loved one. There’s no excuse for how I acted but I can only hope that in due time you’ll come to forgive me.’

Whilst furious as you were that he didn’t listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to express your disappointment, you did not want to kick him when he’s already down. ‘It’s nice of you to acknowledge when you’re wrong, but i must admit that I too am sorry for the way I acted during our fight.’ Tomas furrowed his brows as he placed one of his hands onto yours, squeezing it. ‘What do you mean? Everything you’ve said about Bi-Han was proven true. He was an ambitious tyrant who was biding his time to show his true colours.’ He then sighed, bowing his head before muttering under his breath. ‘He even gave Kuai Liang a scar as a reminder of his deceit.’ The way the words left his mouth, so full of venom and unbridled anger was enough to tell you that Tomas felt partially responsible for Bi-Han’s betrayal.

Even though he wasn’t here to torment him, Bi-Han still found a way to get inside Tomas’ head and you fucking hated it. However you managed to kept yourself composed for this wasn’t about you, but instead about Tomas and comforting him. ‘You didn’t know any better and you were defending your brother like any good sibling should.’ You told him, grasping onto his hand tightly. ‘Admittedly I had crossed the line, forgetting how closely you held Kuai Liang and Bi-Han to your chest. They’re your family and I went ahead and insulted that, all because I had grown worried for you and Kuai Liang. So much so that I had forgotten that Bi-Han is your brother too.’

‘Was.’

You looked at Tomas, who was staring straight forwards now. ‘Bi-Han was my brother but not anymore.’

‘You don’t mean that Tomas.’ You uttered softly, reaching a free hand out to grasp the side of his face and gently guided his head so that he was looking at you. ‘I do’ he told you, tired eyes looking deep into your own. ‘For all I’m aware Bi-Han is dead to me. I don’t understand why he would do such a thing, why he would betray tradition, betray us, his own brothers!’ At this point Tomas had begun sobbing and without missing a beat, you held him tightly into your chest as his strong arms held you in place, holding on ever tighter despite your hushed whispers of never leaving him. You continued to stroke his hair as his voice- while muffled- kept saying things along the lines of, ‘Why?’ Or ‘Why did you do it Bi-Han?’ Yet the longer this continued for the more you heard things along the lines of, ‘Was it something I did?’ But the one that broke your heart the most was; ‘Was I not a good enough brother for you?’

You remained silent through it all, only wanting for Tomas to release everything that had had been wanting to say to Bi-Han for a very long time. You even pressed a couple of kisses to his hair as to remind him that you were with him no matter how rough the road ahead looked. You didn’t care whether you had fights in the future because that was a natural part of life, you’re not always going to get along or stay in the honeymoon period forever; you’re both humans who had flaws, how had tempers, who had moments of weakness and vulnerability but that’s the beauty of being human. You may wish to take away all of Tomas’ pain but you also come to realise that he must experience pain to overcome it.

Which he would, you thought to yourself as you continued to soothingly rub his broad back, kiss his face and head whilst whispering words of comfort into his ear as his arms continued to tighten their hold on your waist, afraid that you might disappear on him. ‘I’m not going anywhere Tomas, not now, not ever.’ You reminded him as he pulled his head away from your chest, red eyed and with tear streaked cheeks.

‘You mean that?’ He croaked, desperate to hear you say that you’ll never leave him, he needed you in his time of need, he quite literally needed you to properly function at this point.

‘Yes.’ You replied without an ounce of hesitation before pressing your head up against his, feeling his uneven breaths brush against your face. ‘You’re safe with me Tomas. I promise, we’ll get our revenge on Bi-Han for all that he has done to you and Kuai Liang, his deeds won’t go unpunished.’

‘I love you.’ Tomas said sweetly, making you smile for the first time that night.

‘I love you too Tomas.’ You replied in kind, watching as his face visibly relaxed from your words, his eyes fluttered shut as a small smile graced his lips. For a man who had been crying just moments earlier, he sure as hell looked ethereal in his brief happiness. Now if only you could make that happiness last for a lifetime.

[indomitus-ferox]

Artemis clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth noncommittally, her mind working overtime. What reports did exist about Devanus, their current location, were minimal. Small population, one of the few colonies to have been passed over by the Covenant back during the war. Most of the terrain had not been noted to be harsh— humanity had simply never settled on Devanus because it was a backwater, and had little going for it. It was no agriworld like Harvest, nor a tourist-worthy destination like Arcadia.

It simply... was.

“I believe I recall reading about this place turning into an unofficial JOZ locale, like Venezia did, only less lawless and more tends to be forgotten by the UNSC.” She was certain that these bodies belonged to the local militia, now that she thought about it. They tended to take care of themselves, but that did not mean the UEG had forgotten about them entirely. “As far as we know, there’s nothing that suggests anyone is trying to take over the government here, because there’s no point. The citizens are content with their lot.”

The Spartan blew out a breath, and began sidling towards one of the closest buildings for cover. With one hand low at her side, she indicated Fox do the same; her other hand moved towards the M6H2 pistol that was magnetically latched to her thigh.

“You’re definitely not wrong about having a bad feeling about this.”

Somewhere in the distance, a metallic scraping sounded.

In case they were, in fact, being watched, Fox kept her chin lowered. Lids lifted, scanning the buildings around them. Every window, every roof, anywhere there was a surface that someone or something might be hiding behind. Nothing thus far had caught her eye nor looked out of place, not in the way that the bodies did.

“Do you know if there are any other reports about this place,” she asked the Spartan softly, returning her gaze to the bodies. They needed to do a little more investigating but being out in the open was setting her teeth on edge. If they were watched, they were easy targets. “For them to be working together…” An enemy of my enemy is my friend, but this, this was different. They were in rough shape even before they took their last breaths. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Artemis.”

[indomitus-ferox]

@thestupidmeanone || cont. from here

Artemis frowned down at her datapad's screen. A prank?

[Text: Church] I'm not sure I'm following.

[Text: Church] Did something happen?

[esther-dot]

The poor thing in the road, it's eyes still glistening 17k by @eruherdiriel

Hooves are not what wake Jon in the middle of the night, pulse racing and hands clammy with sweat. It’s fire. Orange and angry, eating away at houses and shops and shacks in his dream. Even now that he is awake, Jon can still taste burnt flesh on the back of his tongue. The wounds from his brother’s mutiny and Drogon’s gouge, frozen only hours ago, burn white. War leaves everyone broken, Jon perhaps most of all. Sansa finds even peacetime requires letting go.

the sky is big enough 15k @hopetorun

The war is over, except all the ways it isn't, and Sansa isn't alone, except for all the ways she is.

O Voyagers 28k WIP

Jon’s eyes are fixed on the floor at her feet. To a stranger it might look like respect, the proper deference shown to a queen, but Sansa knows better. If he wished to look at her, he would. He has not forgiven me, she thinks, her heart a stone in her chest. He likely never will.

daughters and queens bleed alone 4k

They crown Sansa with a rope of twisted steel, two wolves arching across her brow in a delicate embrace. No stags upon this crown—no branching antlers, no gleaming manes, no blooming hearts of southern roses. No fire, no blood, no graceful sweep of scales and wings, or the silver bite of dragon’s teeth. The Queen in the North stands before them, and Winter has come.

old wounds 2k by @jonsaslove

Jon left King's Landing and never returned. Sansa became Queen in the North and weathered the storm. When they see each other again, there is not much left to say.

stories to tell our children 1k by @jonsaslove

“You said that Old Nan used to tell you stories so scary you couldn’t sleep for a fortnight! That was a baby story!” Duncan nods, agreeing with his sister. Her father interrupts. “Well, Old Nan was a very good story teller. She could tell you a story about fairies and princesses and make it seem terrifying with just her voice and a menacing stare.” Or; Jon and Sansa tell their children bedtime stories.

Where the Shadow Ends 245k (I'm sure y'all have read this one, but it is THE post canon fic, so it must be mentioned!)

For years Sansa has ruled the North, wisely, justly, capably--and utterly alone. Everyone tells her she needs an heir; all she wants is a family. But after everything she’s suffered, there’s only one man she trusts won’t use her for her claim. Only one she trusts with her body. Unfortunately, she trusts him in no other way--especially not with her heart. For years Jon’s hidden in the far north, choosing solitude over the people he loves, choosing self-exile as punishment rather than atoning. But then Tormund tires of his moping and drags Jon back to Winterfell where guilt and consequences and a tempting offer await him. accompanying gifset by @thewindsofwolves

We Set Fire in the Snow 7k by @framboise-fics

Three days was long enough for moments of tenderness, for soft touches and gentle murmurs alongside the violence of their passions, but it was not long enough to burn this fire between them down to ashes, to put out the flames, he thinks ruefully, bitterly, achingly, as he rides out and looks back at her standing on the ramparts as he remembered her, her hair a curtain of fire, her body rigid like she has been sculpted from ice. He will take that fire back North, to warm him through frigid nights, he thinks; to burn inside of him so that he shall never find any peace; and let her feel the same, he thinks, let him not be alone in his agony. If he loved her he should surely wish her peace, so does he love her? Or is this how a wicked man loves, painfully, cruelly, selfishly? Is he her punishment just as she is his?

An Affair in Stages 13k by @justadram (not tagged post canon but works as one which is interesting as the first chapter was posted way back in 2013!)

It begins with a proposition, but where it will end neither of them knows.

Please Speak Well of Me 17k

A queen isn’t supposed to cry. So she’s learned to turn her tears to frost before they ever reach her cheeks. “Sansa,” Jon says to her, and the ice within shifts, weakens. Brackish water begins to leak through the cracks. She can barely remember how to speak, and it doesn’t come as much of a comfort that he seems to be fumbling as well. Over the foolish moons, Sansa had imagined that, if the time came that Jon ever returned, the mere sight of him would unwind the tangles of conflict inside of her. There would be something in his eyes, something she had forgotten about his face, something that would remind her what was real and what was not between the two of them.

breathe me in, taste my words 2k

Much to her surprise, marriage has only made Sansa less of a lady, not more. She doesn’t mind terribly, but maybe that’s because Jon doesn’t either.

Stone by Stone 8k

Finally, her words came in a rush. “But I seem to have built my own wall. Stone by stone, little by little, after each of them disappointed me, hurt me. And now that they are dead, I sometimes fear I may die behind my wall that no one can can walk thru.”

fire in exile 2k by @princemills

The thoughts of the others he’d lost were too unpleasant, and the thoughts of those who survived made him want to keel over like a babe, knowing he’d left them behind. It wasn’t really a choice, but it didn’t stop him from pondering his choices. From King in the North to bending the knee to Daenerys to stabbing her with a dagger beneath white ash borne from burning flesh, he’s never made the correct choice, and now he’ll burn in hell for it. Or, as Westeros deems hell: he’ll freeze his balls off at the wall, or Tormund will cut them off. Whichever comes first. - a quick study of jon and the choices he makes in exile.

watch me run right back to you 16k

Three times Jon and Sansa almost kiss…and three times they actually do.

come out of hiding (i'm right here beside you) 36k @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

AU after 8.05. After the death of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow chooses to live beyond the Wall, while Sansa Stark, the newly-crowned Queen in the North, marries a Dornish prince. Three years later, when Jon finally gathers the courage to return to Winterfell, he finds that while many things have changed, one hasn't: he's still in love with Sansa. (Featuring widow!Sansa, contrite!Jon, and a cute baby.)

Homecoming 31k @theoriginalsuki

Halfway to him, she broke composure; she flew at him, an arrow from a bow, and he opened to receive her, lifting her, clutching her to the soft, neglected animal of his body. Sansa has one request of Jon, and then he can leave her forever: help her to find a husband.

Gifsets: Jonsa and Their Three Children by @kingbuckley , Together We Build Our Empire by @aureliacamargo, Future Jonsa with Children by @amandapeetshusband, In Which They Live a Long and Happy Life Together by @baelerion, To See Him Once Again by @theirwinterfell, Maybe We'll Meet Again by @thatmansplayinggalaga

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 09

Kinktober Masterlist aurum potestas est - "gold is power" Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader Kinks > prostitution, coercion, corruption Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk. Warning: NONCON

You are hired by the FSB to plant a bug in Gaz’s coat pocket when he runs into you on the street. But he catches you in the act and drags you to his safehouse. As you realize that he plans to keep you as his prize, you wonder if this job was worth the money after all. 

I think @cod-z left a comment about how much they enjoyed mean Gaz, so I took that idea a little too far.

They had known you were just hungry enough to say yes. You had seen them, those fucking Red wolves, lurking around Building D in your bloc apartments. They were bullying the kids who ran through the outdoor balconies, trying to climb on the roof to throw snowballs or to piss off the side onto unsuspecting pedestrians. And yes, they were little shits, but when you started to see them with black eyes and busted lips, you wondered if the FSB knew that they were twelve year olds and not fully grown men. 

You wanted to scream at them to pick on someone their own size. To at least help the babushkas with their shopping trolleys. To maybe pick up a shovel and clear the path of ice and snow for a change. Maybe contribute to the community that they were policing so harshly? But, no. They didn’t give a fuck about the community. They were looking for those British spies. 

Four Brits had moved into Building E, the shadiest bloc of them all, and they’d stuck out like a whole hand of sore thumbs. Everyone knew they were there. Their Russian accents left a lot to be desired. And yet, no one ratted them out. The Landlord, Danila Kosteyv, made sure the entire neighborhood knew that the Brits were off-limits. They’d obviously done well to line his pockets with enough rubles to last through the winter. It was the way of things: layer upon layer of corruption like a fetid little medovik, each cruel slice more putrid than the last. 

So, when you were walking home from your job cleaning offices down Tverskaya street, it shouldn’t have surprised you that a menacing hand darted out from the shadows next to your apartment’s mailbox bank and curled around your arm. 

“Idi syuda, devochka.” Come here, girl. Your assailant snapped at you, trying to drag you into the elevator next to the boxes.    

You rolled your eyes at him, and put on your best Tajik accent, mimicking the women who worked with you on your floor, 

“Sorry, no Russian.”

“Zatknis', suka. Zaydite v lift.” Shut up, bitch. Get in the lift. He shoved you with all of his force, and it was enough to fling you against the wall, spilling the meager contents of your purse. 

“Fuck you, silovik. Tell your boss that the fucking chuzhaky are in the other apar–” A hard slap cut across your face without warning. One of the other brutes had raked his knuckles across your mouth, and now you could taste blood on your tongue. 

You fought the urge to cry, and instead, you channeled your mother and rolled your eyes at him again, daring him to just shoot you already. You were nobody, just a cleaner. What they wanted, you couldn’t give them. 

They boxed you in inside the lift, and their stale smell of cigarettes and sweat filled the tiny space, burning in your nose and throat. Once the doors shuddered open, they decided to walk you the rest of the way with each of your arms pinned in their big hands, bruising your skin carelessly. 

You didn’t need to tell them which flat was yours; they already knew. The man who had spoken to you snatched your keys out of your hand and let himself in. You were pushed inside your own house, suddenly a prisoner in a place that you paid for. Even though you should’ve been scared, all you really felt was indignant. 

The FSB bastards oozed into your dingy little flat like black tar, making everything that they touched dirty with their presence. They made themselves at home, eating your leftovers and drinking the dregs of the wine you’d been saving for your birthday. 

“Chto ty khochesh'?” What do you want? You said in your normal Russian accent, dropping the ruse. 

The leader, a fat, balding man with eyebrows like furry caterpillars and pock marks across his cheeks grabbed your hand and placed a device in your palm. 

“Polozhite eto v karman odnogo iz shpionov. Zatem zazhgite svechu i postav'te yeye v okno.” Put this in one of those spies' pockets. Then light a candle and put it in the window. He told you, pointing to your one and only window that overlooked another bloc of apartments. 

“Zaplati mne.” Pay me. You said, holding out your other, empty hand. 

You waited for another slap, but instead, the man with the eyebrows rooted around in his pants for a moment and pulled out a money clip. He placed it in your palm and closed your fist around it, making your bones ache from his grip. You winced, trying to pull away, but he held fast, forcing you to meet his eyes,

“Desyat' tysyach rubley seychas i yeshche desyat' tysyach, kogda zazhzhete svechu.” Ten thousand rubles now and another ten thousand when you light the candle. 

You looked down at the cash in your hand. This was more than you made in a whole week of cleaning offices, and you balked at the sum. These FSB men really wanted this job done. Eyebrows shoved his way past you, stealing your cigarettes from your countertop and pocketing them for himself. Just when he was about to close your door behind him, you rushed to it, holding it ajar. 

“Zhdat'!” Wait! You called out, “Pochemu ya?” Why me?

Eyebrows wore a sinister smile across his mouth, bending close enough for you to smell his rancid breath, and you felt his hand trace his way up and over the shell of your ear, swiping down your braid gently with his finger, letting it rest in his palm.  

“Ty dostatochno urodliv, chtoby ne vyzyvat' podozreniy.” You’re ugly enough to not arouse any suspicions. He sneered, “I ty deshevle shlyukhi.” And you’re cheaper than a whore.

He shrugged, slamming your own door shut behind him, leaving you to stew in your anger at his mean words. 

The next day, you called in sick and headed over to Building E. You were bundled, smoking a brand new pack of cigarettes, your belly full for the first time in weeks thanks to the silovik’s money. This was not an area for foreigners, nothing like the shops and rental properties near your job on Tverskaya. But, when you saw the Brits emerge from their ground-floor flat, they were looking more and more like they belonged. 

They’d taken to dressing in cheap but warm clothing, sporting hats and shoes and jackets they’d seen other men wearing around the bloc, and whomever had trained them in looking unapproachable had done a damn good job. Alas, they were still too noticeable to get away with much. Their nails were too clean, they were too well-fed, and the stain of an oppressive cycle of gray winters had not hardened their expressions quite enough. 

You lingered closer to their apartment, pretending to pass out pamphlets you’d found around the bus station, giving yourself a reason to get near their entryway. One of them, the tall, handsome one with dark skin, walked by you, ignoring your pamphlet, letting the folded brochure graze his shoulder as he walked. 

You chased after him, 

“Gospodin, podozhdite! Razve vy ne khotite uznat' o –” Sir, wait! Don't you want to know about –

“No Russian. Izvini, ya ne govoryu po-russki.” His voice was warm like a fire, even when he was trying to give you a cold shoulder.

“Here, sir. Please, take it,” you moved closer, slipping the bug into his coat pocket, pretending to stumble over the cracked sidewalk a bit, keeping your eyes pinned on his and praying that he would take the bait. 

He stopped walking, and for a moment, you thought you’d gotten away with it. He took one of your pamphlets, and you noticed just how much bigger he was than any of the FSB assholes who had come into your house. But, the pair of big, brown eyes that stared into yours were too bright, they held too much knowledge, too much experience. Behind his gaze lurked a smart, calculating beast, and when he let your pamphlet flutter onto the slick, icy path, you knew you had been caught. His full lips curled up into a smile, not unlike the one Eyebrows had given you when he degraded you in your own home, and he reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out the device you’d planted. 

“Drop somethin’, love?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the bug between his fingers. With very little effort, he smashed it in his hand, reducing it to platicky bits and letting them fall to the concrete, grinding them under his black, leather boot, crushing it to dust. 

You turned, bolting back to your building, but he caught you by the wrist, gripping you even harder than the FSB men, nearly breaking your small bones just like he had destroyed the bug. 

“No, please. They made me!” You protested, stumbling as he dragged you through the dimly-lit hall of his building, scraping your shoulder along the rough wall as he stomped off towards his flat. 

You fought him, knowing that once he pulled you over the threshold of his door, you were as good as dead. 

“They made you, huh? Did they threaten you? They holdin’ your mum hostage at the Kremlin, innit that right?” He rolled his eyes, showing the same disdain for you as you had for the FSB agents, sarcasm dripping from his sharp teeth. 

“No… No! But they –”

He shouldered the door open, letting it bang into the wall, landing in the same spot where dents already existed from years of other men doing the same exact thing. 

“They what? They said they’d come back and kill you, is that it?”

He sat you on the bed, your wrist still stuck to his closed fist, and he stood between your legs, towering over you like a giant. 

“No…” You sniffled, fearful tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“No. Then what are you doin’ this for, babydoll? Don’t you fuckin’ know better?”

“I needed the money!” You screamed up at him, shame flooding your voice. 

He paused, looking down at you for a moment, his eyes glaring but a fake smile warping his visage. He looked like a hyena when it laughs, hungry and ready to taste blood. 

“You needed the money? So, you risked your fuckin’ life. My fuckin’ life. All for what?”

He wanted a number. You stuttered, suddenly regretting telling him the truth,

“Ten th-thousand…”

“My life, all for ten thousand filthy fuckin’ rubles? Bloody hell…” He was laughing in disbelief, now. His hand wasn’t even holding onto you anymore. He was just shaking his head in disbelief, bitter and cruel in his appraisal of you and your morals.

“We come all the way out to this bloody fuckin’ shithole, tryin’ to stop a goddamn terrorist, tryin’ to save you bastards from fuckin’ war. And you’d sell me out for a goddamn hundred quid?”

His eyes peered down at you, and he seemed like he was full of thoughts. His energy was electric, and you could almost feel the edges of the room bending and warping as his mind raced, controlling you and this nasty little predicament like a magician, every movement was sleight of hand, every word was a riddle. 

“What else would you do, huh? I got the bleedin’ bills right here,” he ripped a stack of rubles from his back pocket, flipping them in front of your nose like he was counting them out for you, letting the corners slap against your skin, “How much do you want? I don’t have any fuckin’ bugs for you to plant. So, what else are you gonna give me, huh?”

He bent his body down to look you right in the eyes, too close and yet his breath didn’t make you recoil like Eyebrows’ had. You imagined, in another place, in another time, this man could be good. He could be kind. But, what motivation had you given him to be kind to you?

“I… I don’t know… What do you want?” You asked him, sniffling and pitiful, holding your arms to your chest like you were shivering from the cold. 

“How much for a kiss, hm?” He smiled, pretending to be sweet, and doing a poor enough acting job to know that he was still a threat.

He held up a red, crisp five thousand note, holding it in front of your eyes. Slowly, right in front of your face, he folded it in half and brushed the paper across your lips, watching with satisfaction as your mouth fell open in shock and terror.

“Yeah? One kiss. I think it’s a good bargain, love. What do you think?” His voice was low, like a lover’s, and yet you knew you were anything but. 

You didn’t know another way out of this situation, so you leaned forward, pressing your mouth to his, kissing him as if you were in a school play, performing the act and yet feeling only embarrassment and shame. 

“Mm,” he pulled back, his brow furrowing, “Let’s try again, yeah?” He pulled another note out, just as clean and crisp as the first, holding it up to your mouth this time, “Go on, then. Kiss me like you mean it.”

He kept the paper in place, moving his mouth over it, kissing you with the barrier between your lips, his other hand gripping you at the nape of your neck and forcing your head to move where he wanted it to. Then, as he kissed you deeper, the paper fell, wet and crumpled on the floor. His tongue invaded your mouth, and he sucked on your lips, making you forget that you were not supposed to be enjoying this. 

“You’ve such a soft little mouth, love. Bet you can do all kinds of things with it, huh? Or does it only know how to lie to me?” 

He glared, and you didn’t know what to say. So, you waited, watching as he counted out ten of the five thousand notes. It was twice what you’d made last month. 

Then, he raised himself up to his full height, holding out the cash in his hand like a fan, showing it to you like it was proof of your crimes against him,

“C’mon, baby. It’s all yours. Every goddamn cent,” his hand tightened in your hair making you cry out from the pain of his fist on your scalp, “What’re you gonna do for it?”

You stared up at him and then your eyes settled on the crotch of his pants, bulging and tight right in front of you. You looked up at him again, and he looked like he was holding back his laughter, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cackling at your helplessness. 

You looked back at his obvious erection, and you gingerly began to unbutton his jeans, the only sound in the room was the whir of his zipper and the breaths that were hitching in your chest. He was hidden behind black boxer briefs, so you peeled them away, freeing his heavy cock and watching it sway in front of your face. 

Then, you hesitated, wondering if he would truly force you to suck him off just for planting a bug on him. You looked up at his face, searching for the gentleness that you knew could be there. But, it wasn’t. He’d put that away, saving it for another, a prettier one, someone more deserving. You were just another problem for him that he needed to solve. 

“Come on, love. Don’t get shy on me, now,” he purred, using his fan of cash to brush down your face and mouth, petting you with it, over and over, creating a deceptively silky softness on your cheek, lulling you into thinking you were choosing to do this on your own. 

You leaned forward, taking just the head into your mouth, looking up at him for his approval. He grinned at you, smiling wide, winking at you audaciously,

“Tha’s it, baby. I knew you could put that mouth to work. Anythin’ for the cash, right?”

He was teasing you, watching you struggle to take even half of his length, rubbing your cash all over your face and nose, using it to grab you around the jaw and move you back and forth as you attempted to suck him off. 

“How much for me to see those heavy fuckin’ tits, huh?” He let each bill fall across your face one by one as you jerked his shaft and suckled from his drooling tip, working him like a pump, expecting him to flood your throat,  unfeeling and uncaring. 

 You pulled away from him and looked up in the same shocked way, not understanding how you could get yourself out of this. He had you under his spell, threatening in tone and stature alone, but it was enough. 

You shucked off your jacket, and you began to unbutton your sweater, wearing nothing underneath. Bras were expensive, and you couldn’t justify wearing them out on your days off. Button by button, his cock twitched, shining with your spit, still beading up at the slit with his precome, eager for more. 

Finally, your sweater fell open, and you removed it, laying it with your jacket, and looking up at him for another round of approval. 

“Wow,” he praised you sarcastically, “Such a good girl, aren’t you? If someone holds out a bill in front of you, you’d fuckin’ stab your own mum in the back, huh?”

“No! I was only –”

His cock was back in your mouth, and you choked on it, struggling to take it so deeply and upset by how much of the shaft was still left to go. He pushed himself forward again, forcing himself down into your throat, making you take him in such a way that you didn’t know was physically possible. 

“You just needed the money, I know, I know. You fuckin’ told me that. Short memory, me.” He laughed, watching you struggle to breathe as he held you in place, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got it right here.”

He reached back and grabbed another stack of bills, spreading some over your nose and face, using the other notes to tease and fondle your breasts, his hands neither holding them nor placing them deliberately. He was just smearing them across your flesh like it was paint, covering you in the notes, desperate to make you feel them against your nipples and your breasts and your sensitive neck, wrapping the paper over your body and squeezing it to you, groping you behind the money until it fell to the floor. Then, he could fondle you properly, pinching your hanging peaks, teasing them until they were taut, and rolling their nubs between his thumb and forefinger as you tried to bob your head up and down on his length. 

Then, once he was pleased with your body, he turned his attention back to your mouth, holding both sides of your head in his huge hands, guiding your head all the way down to his black, curly root, burying your nose it his pubes maliciously, his cock throbbing when you gagged and gasped around him.

He began to thrust into you, humping his cock down your throat, not bothering to stop to allow you to take a breath. 

“Tha’s it, baby. I knew you could fuckin’ do it. Just had to pay you the right amount, huh? A few rubles and this tight little throat opens right on up for me.”

Suddenly, with a show of strength you had never experienced, he held your face down to this body and jerked up into you, hard. He began to fill your belly with his hot come, cutting off your airway as he held your mouth in place. With each pump, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to coming. It was a natural reaction, and you had no say in it. 

Unfortunately, he noticed. 

“Look at you,” he clicked his tongue against his teeth, “You fuckin’ love it, don’t you? Swallowin’ my knob for money like a bloody hooker and comin’ in your knickers like a slag.”

The door to the flat opened up, and he ignored it, his fury and lustful rage focusing solely on you. You tried to get away, writhing and wriggling with desperation, trying your best to take a breath in whichever way you could. 

“Gaz,” a man’s voice purred through the room like a warning, “Who’s this, then?”

“I dunno, Captain. Said she’d do anythin’ for a few quid. She even tried to plant a fuckin’ bug in my pocket for those Kremlin bastards, but we found something else she’s good at, didn’t we, baby?”

Gaz ripped himself out of your throat, strings of drool and come connecting his gleaming head to your wet lips, open, choking, and panting for breath. He dragged his dark, ebon head across your soft cheek, just like he’d dragged the money, and he wiped himself on your face with abandon. 

“Don’t worry, love,” he grinned down at you, admiring the way he’d made a mess on your skin, “I’m sure there’s all sorts of talents you’ve got. Now, how much for me to fill up that pussy?”

“I don’t think I should… I can’t…” You whispered, unable to use the full power of your voice. 

But, Gaz was already shoving you down onto the bed, rolling off your pants, and staring longingly down at your shining cunt. He turned to the captain and smiled,

“Think she’ll give us a two-for-one deal?”

Their laughter turned your stomach, but when you saw them reach into their wallets to shower you with more and more cash, you spread your legs wide, admitting to yourself that you were nothing more than a filthy whore for them, letting them take you as many times as they wanted, the red paper notes sticking to your sweaty flesh as your body rocked back and forth across the mattress.

[indomitus-ferox]

The Spartan-III listened, patient and attentive, as Linda explained what she understood of the traditions of Valentine’s Day. Humanity had certainly changed much, over the centuries, but some things seemed to stick harder than others. Traditions had always been a staple in one culture or another, to the point where some even transcended multiple cultures, to be something celebrated no matter where you came from or who you were.

She could not begin to understand most of them, even when they were explained to her. Spartan traditions, on the other hand… They were sacred, close to the chest, only a few shared to the latest generation.

“…Should I ask what a herpes is, or would I be better off not knowing the answer?” That was about the only thing she could manage to say in response.

Taking a few breaths, Linda shifted her stance a little bit to the left. " Valentine's Day was a originally a celebration Feast for an old Earth 8th century Saint named Valentine. Somehow in the 14th and 15 Centuries it became associated with a Romantic Love with LoveBirds. At least that's what majority of the various sources state. Though it could be associated with a Roman Fertility Festival of Lupercalia prior to the 5th century. " A chuckle, " Which celebrated the coming of spring, included animal sacrifices and drunken revelry to honor Faunus, the Roman god of agriculture, as well as to the Roman founders Romulus and Remus. Men and women were also paired up together through a lottery system in matches that often led to marriage. May have Pagan origins or started off as a feast. But was heavily Commercialized by companies in the later centuries. "

Her emeralds scanned the area before fallen on a Marine giving bouquet flowers to a scientist. " However, I believe it's now just more of gift giving to ones you are very Familiar with or intimate with. Sometimes could be someone is cheating on their spouse with. " Emeralds fallen on another section of the bay, a ODST medic giving a heart shape container to an officer, who has a wedding ring. " I hope that medic knows that officer has herpes and no promises of leaving his spouse for them. " Gotta love Med Bay scuttlebutt, Linda mentally amused and hummed.

[bruciemilf]

Factually, I know Bruce is a bad cook. In my wonderland brain, however, he's a baker in some Hell's Kitchen-esque neighborhood, both flourishing and festering down the Narrow's ribs.

Curiously, The Bat seems particularly focused on protecting this joint. And whoever walks in it.

The classic myth of food is that it brings people together; That's the one thing everyone, under the greyscale rainbow in Gotham, has in common. Everyone has to eat, and everyone has to die.

And all kinds of people walk in there.

You get thieves with watchful, observant eyes nemorizing the concise, expert movement of your fingers and wonder how these machines of pain and violance can be delicate enough for sweets.

"I know what you are. I know who you are."

"I'm not exactly hiding. "

" I'm gonna rob you now."

" Take some tuna for Iris while you're at it,"

You get jesters with runny make-up and busted lips and a heartbroken hope in their eyes, crying over their fried ice cream,

" I'm stupid. I know -- I know what he's doing to me. And my mom's voice is just pounding in my ear, every fuckin' day, ' You're letting him, Harley. You're letting him and you deserve it. You should've married that fucking doctor. At least he didn't hit you, he just yelled and screamed and called you nasty names.'

Bruce drizzles some extra rainbow sprinkles on her ice cream. " And that voice is wrong." And he'll keep saying that voice is wrong till the day Harley doesn't like ice cream anymore. And that day doesn't exist.

And slowly, you learn not to be impressed. When you live with wolves, you sharpen your teeth. Dogs do what dogs do; they eat. An angry dog is a hungry dog.

And this boy, with a red scarf over his nose, waving a gun in Bruce's face, is looking plenty angry.

"Just fucking stay there, okay?" He'd probably sound more threatening without the glass tremble in his voice. "I'm just gonna take some cash, and,--"

Bruce's calm is frosty; He's got experience with guns being pointed at his face. " Your safety's on. "

Teal eyes are glossy, shining with feral, living fear, like it's Bruce who has him cornered, backed up to a wall and looming death over him. there's no kids in crime alley.

Whatever they are, they can't afford that title. But he looks exactly how boys in crime alley look; Young and scared and haunted.

"What's your name, honey?"

"...Jason."

" Are you hungry, Jason?"

The way he wolfs down three plates with tears running down his cheek answers Bruce plenty.

"You can have the cash, " I don't really need it, goes unspoken. It already feels slimy enough to take it. The charities and well- filled cups of homeless people don't ease that. "I'm guessing you need it."

"It's for my dad," 'Dad' drips from Jason's lips like liquid hatred, " He told me to rob you cause you never call the cops."

" Calling criminals to stop other criminals seems a little counter-productive, " He needs to do something with his hands; Or he'll take Jason and hug him and drag him to the manor, where Alfred can prepare the fluffiest bed, and the warmest bath. So he's packing him something extra, to take at home.

Still. Hearing Jason laugh makes it worth it.

" You can say you got dinner, too."

" I'm not giving Willis shit, " Willis. One of Harvey's guns. They need a chat about working hazards. " Gonna take this to Dickie and Timmy, thought. Dick's gonna love this..."

And Jason, Bruce comes to find out, doesn't know himself half as good as he knows his siblings.

He learns Timmy, the baby brother, loves to skate, and he's the reason they go to the ER every other Thursday. He learns Dick can never run out of energy; Learns he's running on spite alone and they can't go a day without fighting.

And when Bruce is fighting Nightwing, the newest villain in Gotham, he learns both he and Dick can land the meanest Produnova recorded.

[satorusweetgirl]

𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑬. 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘶 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: fem reader, slight angst, pushing, argument and making up, gojo spiraling, crying, angst to fluff, petnames, young!gojo, reader being labeled as ambitious and pretty

you don’t quite remember when gojo and you became friends, was it when he threw your plushie in the mud when both of you were eleven or was it when he apologized for it a year later?

you like to think it was since you first shook hands, even though he swore he hated you then. but ever since you both laughed when you two saw the messiness of the ice cream on your faces, he grew fond of you, very much so.

back to the present, you are sitting beside shoko as she talks with gojo and geto, you and gojo not speaking for two weeks now since the fight you had with him, even if you all hang out together you don’t look at him, nor talk to him, and neither does he.

the fight was about him ignoring you just the day after he kissed you, just the day after all those ‘sweet girl’, ‘my pretty girl’ whispers, soft spoken.

you doubted yourself ever since then, now it didn’t matter that you were labeled the prettiest or the smartest, now you felt like you deserved being labeled a fool.

and for one week (and three days, counting) you didn’t talk to him, you didn’t such as look at his direction, even if you’re hanging out with him technically everyday.

and after all of you say your goodbyes, before you can turn around gojo takes your wrist.

“not walking with me anymore, or?” you hear him, and you try to hide the way that all this was hurting you, that you were in fact crying about this and if he continues to touch you in any way you would burst.

“yeah, for a week now.” you speak up, or, croak out, your voice weak and nervous, as you look up at him, his blue eyes glowing through his glasses, hair messy and pretty lips in a soft smile, gosh.

“oh my manners, letting a pretty girl walk all by herself? there are wolves on the prowl, you never know who lurks when you’re all alone.” he says with a teasing smile, and you move from his grip.

“i’m fine by myself.”

“I don’t want to believe that, so act for me.” he says it, almost immediately, almost pleading as he looks at you so lovingly it hurts.

“what is it, gojo? what do you suddenly need?” gritted teeth as you say it, trying to be mad, so desperately wanting to be mad at him, but you’re voice is too soft and eyes too loving.

“i-look. i wanted to apologize-for what i did, it was stupid, i never wanted to hurt you. you’re my best friend i shouldn’t-..i shouldn’t have done what i did. let’s just forget it, I don’t want to lose you over a thing small like this.”

he says it, and you feel your lungs tying into a knot, something that was your first kiss was small to him, of course he didn’t knew that, all he knew was that you had the whole school fawning over you with your pretty eyes, so of course you had boyfriends that he doesn’t know about.

but you never had a boyfriend, and your first kiss was with him.

and again what you didn’t knew was that he swears that ever since you shook hands, he loved you, but that’s another story.

“forget it? that was my first kiss gojo, how can i forget it?” his eyes widen and your eyes are getting glassy

“I didn’t-“, “just because I’m labeled this o-or that doesn’t mean i just had so many kisses like you. but you probably don’t even care.” you cut him off, babbling nonsense as he sees your eyelashes getting wet

“I don’t care? i have been regretting the fact that this hurt you every day since then, i was beating myself up for it, i never wanted you this sad.”

“shame, i-i don’t know deal with it! I hate it when you’re like this i hate you.” he chuckles bitterly at that as you say it, almost whimpering it out.

“you don’t hate me and we both know it, in fact, what if i hate you, huh?” he asks, joking, forgetting already that he was here to apologize, and the fact that whatever i do he couldn’t hate me.

“nothing-because i already hated you first, yeah, and i hate you for hurting me and-“ you whimper, you were both fighting so childishly, you both didn’t know what to say, this was almost funny at how childish you sounded.

as you start to softly push him, with every mean thing you say, dramatizing everything that happened both you and him, he loses it when he sees your pretty eyes teary, your rosy lips trembling and your dewy cheeks stained with tears while you push him, he takes your wrists, looking at you like you hold the world before nestling you in his chest, and you stand there in his arms, sniffling as he kisses your forehead, making you feel all fuzzy.

“i know, sweetheart, i know. i’ve got you.” his voice so soft.

“i love you, you know that i do, yeah? ever since we were little.” it was hard for him to say it as he took your weet cheeks into his hands, making you look up at him.

“look at me, sweet girl. i was scared of losing you so i chose to ignore you, it’s stupid i know. but i promise you not ever will it happen again.” he kisses your forehead again.

“i could never hate you..” you mutter, voice all shaky and soft as his eyes soften

“i could never hate you either, angel.”

this is my first fic ever, so the writing is pretty bad

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Lone Wolf.

Whoever said that all wild wolves are lone has lied. But striking out by himself has always suited him better.

… Hasn’t it?

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Snow and ice don’t bother him. The cold never has, not when he has his fur and muscles keeping him insulated.

But it doesn’t keep his stomach from dropping when he looks ahead, shielding his eyes from the blizzard. The gray sky, overcast with clouds, makes the world blotchy and muted. If the sun were out, it would be much worse--the light upon the snow would blind him.

His lashes are coated in frost and dropping, and he can barely see ahead in the white world. The road ahead stretches on for who knows how long, and the storm is relentless.

There is not a single mercy granted to him, but he sees it now: a faint, glowing ball in the distance, piercing the veil of fog. It calls out to him.

He's like a magnet, inexplicably compelled to it.

Jack does not remember how he ended up in this situation, only that his consciousness starts and ends in the vortex of snowflakes. He's searching for something, but he doesn't know what.

He grunts, nestling deeper into his scarf and coat. His gloved hands burrow into pockets. Unfortunately, his face gets no reprieve from the biting gales and the chill freezing any bit of moisture in the area.

It hurts to breathe. It feels as though he's inhaling tiny shards of ice instead of air.

Still, Jack trudges forward.

Seeking out the thing he does not know.

It's more difficult than it has to be. The snow is up to his knees, almost his thighs. The weight of it, an obstacle to his journey--demanding that he raise his legs high enough to clear the wall or force his way through it.

A waste of time and energy.

Keep going, Jack encourages himself. You'll find what you're looking for at the end of all of this!

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"

With a war cry, Jack grits his teeth and sprints. He charges with reckless abandon, a man driven mad by his travels. Snow slams his limbs, his chest, particles flying into his chin and cheeks.

His muscles cry out in exertion as they're pushed to their limits. Pain, pain--and, for once, Jack is thankful for the numbing effects of the brutal winter.

A building comes into view.

A cottage, crowned in a halo.

His breaths shallow, his heart still pounding.

Jack throws himself at the front door and barrels inside. He closes out the cold, his body slumping to the ground in victory. The cabin's warmth floods him just as quickly as the exhaustion sets in.

His senses kick back in, and he realizes he has likely intruded in someone's home.

He hauls himself up and tentatively calls out.

"... Hello? Hello, is anyone there?" Jack asks. "Sorry for uh, breaking and entering. I just need a place to stay until the storm is cleared out."

There is no answer, which causes a fresh wave of relief to wash over him.

They must be out. I'll hang out for a little while and be out before they get back. They won't even notice I was here.

Jack dusts the snow off of him. Some of it has already melted, leaving frigid trails of water on his skin and coat. He shivers, the cold finally hitting him at once.

The cabin is tiny, but comfortable. Photographs line the walls and sit atop cabinets, throw rugs thrown over the floors, knickknacks scattered about.

The space is very much lived in. A family of seven, by the looks of it: seven rocking chairs--small to large--against the wall, seven bowls of porridge out on the counter, one giving off a hefty cloud of steam. There are even seven beds lined up in the next room over, one thin and hard and another overflowing with blankets and cushions.

If I sit on the furniture, I'll definitely get it wet.

His eyes wander.

At the far end of the room is a roaring fireplace. The flames leap up and crackle, beckoning Jack to come close, to warm himself beside it.

He shuffles over, the heat gradually growing and drying him. Crossing his legs and sitting, Jack basks in the cozy glow. His muscles melt, and a contented whine slips out.

This bliss, he knows, cannot last.

He will have to return to the blizzard soon.

Out there, in that kingdom of isolation. Barren forests, icy mountains, walking along a path that was his own.

Yet here, with the roof over his head and the fire at his feet, he is more at ease than he ever was in the snowstorm. Food, clothes, shelter—all the essentials he needs to bear that freezing, cruel world.

His heartstrings tremble, as if a hand had ran along them, setting them all into a song.

Something is still missing. Something you need, something even more important than the necessities.

What is it…?

Jack’s lids lower. They’re heavy, both with melted snow and the urge to sleep. To pass out right there, on the rug, damn it all if the family finds a massive wolf beastman snoozing on their living room floor.

It’s a tempting thought.

His eyes close, and they stay that way for a second longer than he’d like. He tries to open them again—stutter, stutter, collapse.

The warmth of the fireplace knits over him, lulling him deeper into the trance. The winds outside seem so far away now, muffled by the sturdy walls of the cabin.

He feels himself lolling forward, but doesn’t feel the hardness of the ground.

Somewhere, a door clicks open.

Voices float in, fuzzy around the edges. He's aware of them, but fails to scrounge up the names.

They're important people, he concludes.

"... Oh dear. It looks as though we have an unexpected visitor."

"Whoa, is that Jack?! Why's he passed out in front of the fireplace?"

"Does the reason matter? He looks as though he has been through quite a bit."

Footsteps. Jack senses a body nearby, but is too tired to rise, to offer an apology. Fingers come upon his neck, then over his mouth, testing for a pulse, for breathing.

"He is fine, he's just tired. Let him rest--he'll need to collect his strength. Although... sleeping in such a position is awful for his posture. We'll have to move him to a proper bed."

A pause, the feet pacing.

"Cucumber, you possess the greatest upper body strength of us. Carry him. Epel, fetch an extra blanket. Potatoes 1 and 2, towels. Ortho, you still have that heat lamp function, yes? Let's put that to some use."

"Yes, Vil-senpai."

"Command confirmed. Engaging heat lamp mode..."

Epel? Ortho...?

A light switch turns on in the attic of his mind. Other names bubble up, resurfacing, and he plucks them out one by one.

"IT SHALL BE DONE!"

Sebek.

"Roger! I'll get those towels right away!"

Deuce.

"Haaah~ Can't believe we gotta look out for Jack just cuz the big guy couldn't look after himself out there. Oh well. Can't be helped."

Ace.

The storm lifts.

That's right, they are...

Vil reaches him.

"Welcome home, Jack. You've found your way back to us at last."

My friends, my family.